“I’ll stop and pick us up some take-out on the drive home. I’ve not seen you eat a bite.”
She grimaced, shaking her head. “I don’t think I can eat anything. I’m sure it’s nerves, but the thought of food makes me want to throw up.”
“You need to eat.”
“I will, but not right now. I just want to lie down and close my eyes to reality for a while.”
She’d barely nibbled at a few crackers yesterday. Less than that today. He didn’t like her lack of appetite, but perhaps she was too exhausted to eat. He’d get some of the soup his cleaning lady had left him on her last visit and convince Liz to eat at least a little.
“Where are we?” she asked, pushing a strand of her dark hair away from her face and becoming aware that they’d long passed her street.
“I’m taking you to my place. You’ll rest better.”
“But I…” She paused. “You’re right. I really don’t want to face that empty hospital bed.”
He’d known, just like he knew so much about the woman in the car with him. For the past year she’d been a constant part of his life.
That was a year longer than any other woman.
Since he’d had no intention of committing to anything beyond his career for many years to come, he hadn’t thought it fair to become involved. Sure, he’d dated, but always with a clear understanding.
Liz had been different. She hadn’t been looking for marriage and children either. She’d already been a hundred percent committed to caring for her grandfather and no relationship would change that.
She’d been safe.
Not that he’d meant to date her, to become part of a couple with her, but from the moment they’d met he and Liz had hit it off. She was funny, intelligent, and sexy as hell. Without him realizing what had been happening, she had become more and more entrenched in his life until he couldn’t imagine not having her smile brighten his day.
With Liz he’d found himself wanting marriage, children, all the things he’d once found superfluous to his medical career. Had she been free, he’d have begged her to walk down the aisle with him, to be his wife, the mother of his children.
But Liz’s priority had been to her grandfather and he’d understood that. Understood and loved her all the more for her loyalty and big heart.
All the reasons hindering their relationship from moving forward had dissipated the moment Gramps had taken his last breath.
Another sharp pain cut through Adam’s temple, momentarily blurring his vision and reminding him that perhaps not all the reasons were gone. A pain that had become more and more familiar over the past two weeks, as had the blurred vision.
So familiar that he’d seen a family physician friend of his to get a prescription for a headache medication on Friday.
Only his friend had been concerned his symptoms were more than just stress-induced. Particularly when upon being questioned Adam had admitted to feeling tired and having had muscle cramps recently. Larry had scheduled Adam for fasting bloodwork and a magnetic resonance imaging—MRI—scan of the brain on Monday. Only Adam had rescheduled the tests because of Gramps’s death.
Surely Larry was being overly cautious?
But Adam couldn’t suppress the niggle of fear that his friend was right. Something more was going on inside his body. Something bad.
Something that Adam wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Had he not been driving, he would have closed his eyes.
“What are you thinking?” Liz interrupted his thoughts, causing him to glance her way. She’d quit staring out the car window and watched him with her soulful brown eyes.
“Just hoping I left the place clean,” he prevaricated. Now was not the time to tell Liz about the symptoms he’d been having. She already had enough to worry about.
“Mrs Evans keeps your condo immaculate and you’re a neat freak of the worst kind, Adam.” Her lips hinted at a smile. “I’d be highly shocked to find your underwear strewn around.”
“That’s because you visit after Mrs Evans has been there,” he warned, pleased at the smile on her pale but beautiful face. Neither the dark circles ringing her eyes nor their red puffiness could hide Liz’s beauty. She radiated from the inside with a natural exquisiteness he found irresistible.
Adam stared out at the road, squinted to clear his right eye of its haze. Unsuccessfully.
What if something bad was wrong with him?
He’d seen the concern on Larry’s face and he hadn’t even revealed his other symptoms to his friend.
Somehow saying out loud that his surgeon hands had gone numb for a few minutes last week, that at times pins and needles prickled his fingertips and that had been the real catalyst to his visit to Larry, seemed to make his symptoms all so much more real.
No, he hadn’t admitted to anyone that his internal circuits had seemed to be going haywire from time to time over the past two weeks. Not even to himself.
CHAPTER TWO
ADAM stared at the shadowy living-room ceiling and listened to the soft chimes of the mantel clock that had once been his mother’s.
One o’clock.
He owed it to his patients to get some sleep, but no matter how much his brain knew that, how many times he told himself to close his eyes, sleep remained elusive.
Probably because every fiber of his being was aware that while he was lying on his sofa with a cotton throw tossed over his body, Liz slept in his bed.
He’d planned to join her, but she’d been sound asleep. He hadn’t wanted to risk going into his bedroom since any noise he inadvertently made might wake her. She needed to sleep. He’d never seen her look so worn out.
He’d changed out of his suit into a pair of shorts he’d pulled from the dryer, and hit the sofa. Maybe if he checked on Liz, knew she was OK, maybe then he could catch a few hours before going to the hospital.
Who wanted a doctor taking out their gallbladder or repairing their hernia when he hadn’t slept much for three nights straight?
OK, so he hadn’t been sleeping much for the past couple of weeks, which probably explained why he was having the episodes of blurred vision, fatigue, and paresthesia in his fingertips.
It was apparent he couldn’t sleep until he knew Liz was OK. He’d sneak in, reassure himself, then he’d be able to get some shut-eye.
A few hours’ rest and he’d be as good as new. A few hours sleep, and he’d probably be able to laugh away the fear he’d been squelching for days.
That did it. He was going to check on her. Just a quick peek.
He threw the cover to the opposite end of his sofa and padded barefooted to his bedroom door. The door was partially open where Liz had left it prior to the hot bath he’d forced her to take in the en suite. He crept into the room without having to open it wider.
The lamplight shone, illuminating her face. She lay half on her side with her arm draped over his pillow. Her chest rose and fell in even breaths. Her hair was tousled about her face. Her eyes were closed and, although he could tell she’d cried herself to sleep from the lingering puffiness, she looked to be sleeping peacefully at the moment.
There. He’d reassured himself she was OK. Now he could go to sleep. He crept toward the door.
“Adam?” Liz’s sleepy voice stopped him.
He turned, met her heavy gaze. He should have known