Page 233 of Toxic Kiss

“You weren’t ready then. You are now.”

Cupping her cheeks, my thumbs trace her soft skin.

“I’m only ready because of you. I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. So, you’re still insisting that we get married, huh?”

“I told you, I’m not taking no for an answer. You can say no all you want, but I’m still marrying you.”

“You’re cocky.”

“I’m confident, there’s a difference,” I say and drop my lips to hers before she can respond.

I kiss her until she leans against me, as if her legs have gone weak. My heart is in my throat. The realization of how close I’ve come to losing Haven forever sits front and center in my mind. Reluctantly, I release her lips and rest my forehead against hers.

“By the way, Stevens called. You were right,” I say softly, loving the smile that spreads across her face. “I have an appointment to see him tomorrow. Will you come with me?”

“Is that even a real question?”

Laughing, I grab her hand, knowing that I’ll never let her go. It has taken me far too long to accept my feelings for Haven and who she is to me. I’ll never make that mistake again.

chapter

fifty-nine

“I was given a second chance I didn’t deserve. I won’t waste it on just surviving.” – Cyrus

CYRUS

Dr. Stevens’ lips are moving, and I hear him droning on like a cartoon character. But I can’t remember a single word to save my soul.

After I heard chronic, progressive, autoimmune disorder, and no cure, I spiraled.

Thank God for Haven. Her pen moves across a pad of paper as she takes notes, and in between her questions, she grabs my hand to ground me.

Every word that comes out of Dr. Stevens’ mouth sounds like a declaration of war. A daily struggle, learning to live with unexpected obstacles. I’m twenty-four. My entire future is ahead of me, and the unpredictability now seems as scary as not knowing. Maybe I wasn’t ready to learn all of this.

I’ve prayed for answers, and it’s exciting to have some, but now…Stevens is going on about managing flares and potential causes. At the end of the day, he may as well say life. Life will set you off from here on out. Good luck.

Needing a moment, I let go of Haven’s hand and walk over to the window to gaze out at the city. I’ve been living in a bubble. At least I was until I walked in here. But now…now all I can wonder is how many people out there are just like me? How many people have this disease or even another, and feel just as lost and scared as me? How many of those people don’t have a Haven in their lives?

Taking a steadying breath, I look over at the love of my life. Haven must feel my stare. She glances my way and gives me a warm smile. She is the only thing keeping me from a complete breakdown.

“Managing stress and diet will be very important, but there are other things that can trigger a flare. You’ll need to keep a journal and track what they are. And don’t think of stress as just feeling stressed, but rather the body’s reaction to any form of stimuli. Illness, working too much, excessive exercise, overexertion, not enough sleep, emotional stress, foods, they can all affect your body adversely.”

This conversation is triggering.

“I read that severe fatigue is common, along with joint pain and swelling. Can you tell me a few other things to watch out for?”

“I’ll give you what literature we have, as well as a few websites that have information. The thing to remember is that even if you think it’s under control, this disease is progressive. What caused a flare last month may not be what causes one this month, but that same thing can cause a flare down the road. I hate to say this, but it’s like Russian roulette. It’s never just one factor, such as poor sleep, but that does increase the chances of a flare. The damage builds as well, so where Cy didn’t have a particular issue five years ago, a new condition has arisen. Lupus damages organs that cannot be repaired. That’s why it looks different for everyone. I know this all sounds very scary, but we know what we are dealing with, and that is a major step.”

Stevens turns his head, and our eyes meet.

“I’m referring you to a specialist in California. They will be able to give you more information and start you on medication that will help control the disease long term.”

I don’t really acknowledge what he’s said because all I want to do is scream, I fucking told you so. I want to call up all the doctors who misdiagnosed me over the years and yell at every single one of them. Anger burns in my chest, and I’m trying to breathe through it to keep it under control.

But all I see are the pills that made me feel worse. The blank stares when they didn’t believe me. The nights I curled up in the fetal position while shaking from pain so bad it felt as if my bones were about to pop out of my skin. Too many blood draws to count, and no one bothered to think outside the box.