Over the intercom, the flight attendant announces we’ve reached cruising altitude. This means I can put down my tray and pull out my laptop to watch game tape, like I always do.
Instead, I scroll through my photos. I start with the first selfie she ever sent me when I was on the road. Then I keep swiping into the rest. Seraphina naked in my bed, the covers strategically hiding her body. A random mirror selfie I snagged of us brushing our teeth one morning. Another selfie she took of us kissing. A shot of her clutching a cup of coffee outside, her cheeks rosy from the cold. One of her pretending to bite my face the night we went out for dinner at Rouge. Even now, that one makes me laugh.
We look so fucking happy.
Scrolling back, I set the first photo she ever sent me as my wallpaper and lock my phone. Then I hit the side button to keep the backlight on, tracing every single line and detail of her face. Big brown eyes I could get lost in. Plump lips with a perfect Cupid’s bow at the top. A cute little nose that scrunches up when she laughs. She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts.
She’s even more beautiful beneath the surface. Quick-witted and smart. Silly and bold. Caring and patient, even when I don’t deserve it.
As I stare at the picture in my hand, everything clicks. It’s like putting on glasses and seeing things clearly for the first time.
I’m not just falling for her; I’m already there. Have been for a while.
I love her.
That final realization hits hardest of all, and it runs through my head on repeat for the rest of the flight.
CHAPTER 33
ONE IN TWO
SERAPHINA
Monday morning has taken an unnerving turn.
From: [email protected]
Subject: North End Medical Center Patient Portal Update Message: A new test result is available in your patient portal. To view it, click here or download our app here.
Overwhelming nausea barrels into me as I read the email again.
This has to be some kind of technical error. The nurse I spoke to this morning said they don’t give test results of this nature over the phone, and that’s why I received an emailed appointment confirmation over the weekend.
Given that, it makes no sense they’d upload my results onto the internet for someone to see by themselves. Unless this is a good sign. Maybe it means it’s negative. There would be no harm in putting a negative test result up for the patient to see before their appointment, right?
Hands shaking, I navigate into the app and enter my login information. Before the landing page can load, I lose my nerve and swipe out.
I should wait.
My heart thunders in my ears as I stare at the screen. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I know I shouldn’t look, but I won’t be able to accomplish anything until I see that result.
Fifty-fifty.
One in two.
I hold my breath, watching the little rainbow wheel spin around and around as the page loads.
Please be negative. Please be negative. Please be negative.
It’s not.
CHAPTER 34
PRIORITIES
TYLER
The remainder of my flight feels like forty hours instead of four. I text Seraphina when I land, but she doesn’t answer. Again. She hasn’t answered me since last night. I’m well past worried.
Baggage claim takes for-fucking-ever. I low key resent every person whose bag appears before mine on the carousel. My equipment bag finally emerges on the conveyor belt, followed by my luggage. Grabbing it, I turn and haul ass to the parking garage to get my car. As I make the drive home, all I can think of is those last thirty seconds of a shutout when the pressure is more intense than it’s ever been—everything comes down to the final second where you either walk away with the win or get denied that big moment.
Seraphina still hasn’t written me back by the time I pull in. Entering the keycode, I go through the garage to put away my gear. Her SUV is sitting parked inside. My worry ramps up another notch. If she’s not in class, why hasn’t she answered any of my texts? Is she upset with me? Is she okay?
The house is silent when I step inside.
“Ser?” I call.
No answer.
With my duffel bag on one shoulder, I go down the hall to check her bedroom and find it empty. Could she be out with someone else? Maybe Chloe picked her up for school today.
I open the door to downstairs, greeted by the sound of water rushing through the pipes. Cautious relief sets in. If she’s in the shower, that would explain why she didn’t hear me come home. Still doesn’t explain why she hasn’t answered any of my texts all day, though.
My gut says something is wrong, and I no longer think it has anything to do with her being angry at me. I can’t explain it. I just know.
Adrenaline spiking, I take the stairs two at a time. When I reach the bottom, I ditch my bag and jog to the bathroom. The door is closed when I reach it.
Placing my ear to the door, I knock softly. “Tink?”
She doesn’t answer.
“Ser.” I knock harder this time, but I still don’t receive a response.
Give me something. Anything. Tell me to go away. Yell at me. Be mad at me. Just answer me.
Growing desperate, I try the handle and find no resistance. It isn’t locked.
“I’m going to come in for a second, okay?” I say through the door. “I want to make sure you’re all right.”
When I open the door, it’s like a knife to the gut.
Seraphina is sitting in the tub next to the faucet with her knees pulled up to her chest. Her gaze is fixed down, and her eyes are vacant. Above her head, the running shower pours down on the tiled surround. The shower curtain is half-closed like it was an afterthought, and there are puddles all over the floor.
Panic courses through my veins, and cold water seeps through my socks as I rush over to her. As I draw closer, a few stray droplets from the spray hit my face and bare forearms. Even though the dial is set to warm, the spray is cold too. Our hot water tank lasts for three or four showers, sometimes more. That means she’s been in there for at least an hour.
How long has she been in there under the cold water?
Kneeling by the side of the tub, I shut off the faucet and try to catch her eye to no avail. Her fair skin is dotted with goosebumps all over, her lips are pale, and she’s shivering. I’m fairly certain she’s in shock, and I have no idea why.
I’ve never been more scared in my entire life, but I need to stay calm for her.
“Ser.” I touch her shoulder to get her attention, finding her skin chilled to the touch. Her eyes lock onto mine, but she doesn’t react. “You’re frozen, baby. I’m going to dry you off and get you warmed up, okay?”
She nods silently, but she doesn’t look at me.
Turning away, I grab a stack of fluffy white towels from under the sink, draping one over my shoulder. While she doesn’t resist my efforts to dry her off, she doesn’t help me, either. It takes some maneuvering, but eventually I manage to wrap her in two of the towels before I lift her up, bridal style. She sags against my chest as I carry her into my room.
Holding her up with one arm, I rearrange my pillows and prop them at the head of the bed before I set her down against them. “I need to get you into some clothes, Tink.”
I get her dressed as quickly as possible, narrating everything as I go even though it feels like I’m talking to myself. She wordlessly cooperates as I tug my black T-shirt over her head, then lay the spare towel over her shoulders to stop the cold water in her wet hair from dripping onto her shoulders and back. Then I help her into the warmest pair of sweats I own and slip on a pair of thick socks for her feet. It’s all several sizes big for her, but at least she’s insulated.