The Romance Revival(23)

All this and I still can’t bring myself to leave his side and simply let him sleep. I haven’t eaten in… honestly, I don’t remember the last time I ate. I know I need to sleep, too. But adrenaline and anxiety streak through my bloodstream; I’m so jittery I’m trembling.

At around 5 a.m., I text Crash that Luca is under the weather, and after a series of thumbs-up emojis he lets me know he can handle their work solo today. Relieved, I drop my head onto the mattress at Luca’s hip.

Annie peeks into the bedroom. “I’m going to head out,” she says. “The dogs will riot if I’m not there to feed them by sunrise.”

I nod against the mattress, imagining the scene awaiting her. Annie takes all the abandoned animals, often performing surgery or treating them herself before bringing them home. She even bought a piece of property when she sold her clinic in the hope of one day turning it into some kind of animal sanctuary. Right now, she’s got Lieutenant Dan, a twelve-year-old Chihuahua who lost both his back legs to intervertebral disc disease but probably breaks land speed records in his tiny rear-wheel dog cart; Tiny, a five-year-old Great Dane who might be deaf but can smell the cheese drawer open at least two seconds before it actually happens; Butterscotch, a one-eyed Yorkie who works a thankless full-time job protecting the house against the UPS driver; and Miso, an anxious Lab mix that gives such voracious kisses she could probably remove fingerprints with her tongue.

“I want to bring Honey here,” she says in the doorway, and I grunt my interest into the mattress. “I think Luca will feel better seeing how good she’s doing, how healthy.”

Now I look up. I hadn’t thought of this, and honestly, I should have. Honey, a nine-year-old golden retriever–husky mix, was the first dog we brought back with the BioVIVE.

She’d been hit by a car and left on the side of the road with no other identifiable information but a collar with her name on it. She’d lost a significant amount of blood by the time she was found and technically died on a veterinary OR table, but was successfully revived using the BioVIVE protocol: injection with Compound Y within ten minutes of clinical death, followed immediately by treatment in the BioVIVE pod.

Annie took her in, nursed her back to health, and monitored her recovery. It was clear Honey had once been someone’s pet, but she wasn’t chipped, and nobody checked with the office to claim her. She also didn’t seem to recognize her name or even remember she had once been potty-trained.

Luca and I have long talked about getting a dog, but I always argued that I wasn’t home enough and wouldn’t want to put a pet through that. God, the obliviousness of past Emery.

I don’t plan to make that mistake again.

“That’s a really good idea. It could be good for them to have each other.”

She smiles at me. “Are you going to be okay if I leave?”

Exhaling, I feel the full weight of the day and everything that’s happened. I am absolutely not going to be okay. But Annie has done enough. “Yeah,” I say.

“You’re not going to draw a blood sample and try to take it to the lab to study?”

I should be offended that she thinks the first thing I’m going to do is leave Luca now that he’s alive again, but I guess I can’t be that indignant.

I hold up my hand, making the Star Trek sign. “Scout’s honor.”



* * *



Luca sleeps for twelve hours; I do not. I can’t. He wakes only to eat and drink a little before falling back asleep for another solid eight hours.

I’m trying not to panic and remind myself that of course he’s exhausted; every system in his entire body is working to recover in unison. He was dead, Emery. Give the man a break. His vital signs are good; his coloring is good. He’s even started lightly snoring. Now all I can do is wait, get something to eat, and try to get some sleep, too.

I change out of my favorite dress and aggressively shove it and the ruined lab coat in the trash. I manage to eat a bowl of cereal and drink some water; I log every medical detail from the moment Luca was injected until now. The sun comes up, goes down, and comes up again, and still, sleep eludes me.

I long to curl up beside him, to rest my head on his chest, to hear the sturdy thumping of his heart, to gain calm and reassurance in the familiar comfort of our bed. But as far as he’s concerned, we’re strangers. If I sleep, it’ll have to be on the couch.

But then what if he wakes up and needs something? What if his temperature or pulse takes a nosedive? What if he dies… again? I quickly smother these thoughts in Bubble Wrap, tuck them in a box, and hide them away in a drawer in my brain labeled THINGS TO FREAK OUT OVER LATER.

Unfortunately for my restless energy, there isn’t much to do around the house. As the weekend passes, I fold a basket of laundry and unload the dishwasher. I order some groceries and update Annie; I continue to log Luca’s vitals. I organize my closet, and his.

Annie drops off Honey on Sunday afternoon and reminds me that she put the compound in the back of my fridge for now. She still doesn’t know what we should do with it, and frankly, neither do I.

When Annie leaves, I follow Honey around as she explores the house and investigates a sleeping Luca before happily curling into a ball at his feet.

She is the picture of contentment. Meanwhile, I am losing my goddamn mind.

Desperate for more ways to stay busy, I drag myself to the kitchen.