I collapsed onto the toilet seat and set my forehead to the cool ledge of the sink, willing my heart to regulate. “Ronan knows me. I know it’s quick, but he does. He would know I’m lying. I think.”
She hummed—the sound of her thinking that she’d done since she was a kid. “Fine. Put a pin in that. We’ll figure out another way to infiltrate his lair.”
I relaxed a bit. “So, what’s the third?”
There was a brisk knock at my door. The call ended, and then the sound of Megan’s voice shouted through the wood: “Open up, bitch!”
I took several more deep breaths, then got up to answer the door with a pasted-on smile.
“The third,” Megan announced as she flounced in with a large bag of takeout, “is dinner. I brought Thai—holy shit, you look awful. Laney, what’s wrong?”
I flapped my hand. I wasn’t as bad as before, but I still felt light-headed. “My heart, you know. I just took my last pill, but you know. It takes some time.”
Megan abandoned the takeout on a shelf near the door and proceeded to guide me back to the couch. “Okay, where’s the prescription? I’ll go pick up your refill now.”
I shook my head. “I—Dr. Palmer said he wouldn’t refill them until I came in to discuss surgery.”
“And when was that?” Megan wanted to know. She was still holding my hand, like that might calm the now-non-existent attack.
I muttered something unintelligible.
“In English, this time.”
I sighed. “Right after Vegas.”
“Excuse me?” Her voice rose about an octave. “Laney Harmonia Fisher, please tell me you have that appointment scheduled. And please tell me you did the right thing and scheduled the surgery you should have had years ago.”
“Please stop talking in italics,” I said. “And you know I can’t do that.”
“Can’t do what? Lie to me or have life-saving surgery?”
“Both.”
I sounded petulant. I knew that. Really, I sounded like a scared little girl, and maybe that wasn’t so far from the truth. No one, not even Megan, knew how terrified I was of going into that hospital and not waking up again.
No one except Ronan.
My heart skipped again at the thought of him, and not in a good way.
No. Not now.
“It will be fine,” I started. “The medication will start working within an hour. I’ll call tomorrow and convince him to refill my prescription, and—what are you doing?”
She was already on her phone. “Dr. Palmer, you said?”
“Yes, but?—”
Megan silenced me with a finger. “Hi, I’m calling on behalf of Delaney Fisher. She’s a patient of Dr. Palmer’s and needs to schedule her pre-op appointment for her cardiac ablation. And she needs a prescription refill. Immediately.”
“Megs, stop,” I hissed. “You don’t need to do this.”
“That’s right,” Megan went on as she turned to the side and steadfastly ignored me. “She just ran out today, actually, so I’m sure Dr. Palmer wouldn’t want her to wait—yes, I’ll hold.”
Before I could protest anymore, there was another knock at the door.
Megan and I both frowned at each other.
“Are you expecting someone else?” she asked with her hand over the phone’s speaker.
