Page 83 of What Should Have Been Ours

I blink hard, trying to clear the haze in my head, and push forward. I Just need to get back to Gabrielle and sit down for a second.

But my body has other plans. Halfway to the table, my legs give out. The glasses slip from my hands, shattering against the floor, and the last thing I see before everything goes black is Gabrielle’s face, her expression shifting from mid-laugh to pure terror as she runs over to me.

Then—

There’s nothing.

* * *

“Cam—Cam!”

Someone is gripping my face, shaking me. I blink as my vision swims, and the chandelier above me is blindingly bright when I try to open my eyes.

Gabrielle’s face finally comes into focus. Her fingers press against my cheek, her voice tight with panic. “Baby, talk to me. What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

I open my mouth to respond, but the words won’t come.

I don’t know what’s happening.

I feel…wrong. I feel heavy, and dizzy, and like I’m not really here.

I try to push myself up, but my arms buckle, sending me back down to the floor.

“Hey—don’t,” Wes’ voice cuts in, worry clear in his tone. “Stay down, man.”

I feel hands on me—so many hands. Someone’s checking my pulse, pressing a cool hand against my forehead.

“I need to get him to the hospital,” Gabrielle says, voice shaking.

“I’ll drive,” Wes jumps in immediately. “No way we’re waiting for an ambulance.”

“I’m fine,” I manage, but my voice sounds weak, like someone else is speaking for me.

Gabrielle stares at me, wide-eyed, pissed that I would even try to play this off. “Fine? You collapsed, Cam! Your pulse is erratic, your face is pale as hell, and you can barely hold yourself up right now.”

She doesn’t give me time to argue. She’s already pressing her hand under my arm, helping Wes as he pulls me up. The entire ballroom is staring—a sea of rich donors and their spouses with horrified expressions, whispering behind their champagne glasses.

Kinsley moves quickly, clearing the way as Wes and Gabrielle keep me steady, half-dragging me towards the exit.

My body feels wrong. My chest feels wrong. Everything feels wrong.

I hear Gabrielle whisper, “Please don’t do this to me.”

And that’s the moment I finally stop fighting them, knowing this isn’t something I can just shake off.

The drive is a blur, but I hear Gabrielle’s voice the whole way. I just can’t really make out the words anymore. It’s not until we’re inside the ER, the overhead lights giving me a pounding headache, that I start coming back to myself more, even as I’m in pain.

“Dr. Hayes?”

I blink up at the nurse. Confused.

Right. I work here.

I almost laugh at the irony—being on this side of things.

Gabrielle is still gripping my hand, and Wes is pacing all over the waiting room. Kinsley is harassing the nurses about getting me checked out faster when she realizes they’ve just called me back.

Blood work. Scans. EKG. All the things I just did a few weeks ago. Yet, this time, I can’t brush off how serious it feels.