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Before she can say another word, she’s in Luke’s arms and he’s standing. He looks over his shoulder as he exits the dining room, the concerned eyes of his friends and family on him.
“What do you need us to do?” Jace asks, wrapping an arm around Emmy Lou.
“Eat.” He says it only because he knows Sal would want them to. “I’m gonna get her upstairs.”
As he turns for the hallway, he catches a glimpse of his brother’s worried face. “C’mon,” he hears Seth order reluctantly. “You heard Luke. Let’s sit the fuck back down.”
Upstairs, Luke settles Sal on the bed. She blinks, the cloudiness leaving her eyes as she comes fully back to consciousness. “What happened?”
He sits beside her, smoothing a lock of hair from her cool forehead. “You fainted, darlin’.”
Sal’s eyes, her mouth fly open. “Oh god.” She groans in embarrassment, burying her face in her palms. “No one’s ever gonna come to our house again.”
Luke’s too worried to laugh. He peers at her, taking her in with shrewd eyes. Her pallor moon-white. Purple bruises beneath her eyes. “Stay here,” he says, giving her a look that means business.
Shoving off the bed, he goes to the bathroom. He finds her migraine medication in the medicine cabinet, only when he returns to the bedroom, he’s greeted by Sal shaking her head.
“No,” she says. “It’s not a migraine. My head’s fine...”
He sits beside her. “Then what is it?”
“I don’t know.” Her eyes narrow as she searches her mind. “When we sat down, I started to feel off. Really warm. Lightheaded.”
“How are you feelin’ now?”
A tilt of her dark head, as if she’s evaluating her current condition. “I feel fine now. Really.”
A flare of frustrated worry hits him as he stares at his wife. “You sure as hell ain’t fine, Sal.” He takes her hand, needing the contact. The feel of her, that she’s here and present. “Passin’ out at the dinner table ain’t okay. Something’s wrong.”
Sal’s lips thin out. “Luke.”
He shakes his head. He’s winning this argument. While he appreciates Sal’s stubbornness, she ain’t talking herself out of this. Not tonight, not after what happened back in the dining room.
“Darlin’, you’re workin’ double shifts. Runnin’ yourself ragged. Worryin’ about everyone but yourself. You’re gonna make yourself sick and I ain’t havin’ that.”
As proud as he is of Sal getting her job back as quick as she has, it also concerns him. He knows she’s thrown herself into her job, especially after they lost the two pregnancies. And it’s as much his fault as hers. Hell, he’s been dragging her on the road, touring too damn much when he should be thinking of her. It’s only been a year since he got her back. Only six months since her migraines, the nightmares stopped. He should have been paying closer attention. Damn him.
“I’m sorry,” he says to Sal, whose expression has gone shamefaced and sad. “I’m not angry, I’m worried. I’m worried about you, Sal.” He squeezes her hand. “Your mom had health issues. I don’t want you to wait until it’s too late.”
Inhaling deep, Sal closes her eyes at the mention of a mother she still cannot remember.
“Okay.” Her eyes open, resolute. “You’re right. I’ll get checked out when I go back to work Tuesday. I’ll ask Tawny to run a panel.”
“Thank you.” He leans in, sweeping dark hair from her face, some of his worry dissolving at the thought of getting an answer. “You let me know the time, I’ll be there. I’ll cancel—”
“No.” She shifts on the pillows, curling up into a small ball. Her hands beneath her cheek, she stares up at Luke. “You do the interview.”
Luke’s jaw tightens. He wants to tell her that her health’s more important than the damn interview, but he bites his tongue.
“Besides,” she says, “it’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.”
But he doesn’t miss the tremble in her voice that tells him she’s scared.
He leans down to kiss her, battling worry and doubt. “I want you to rest,” he says, laying a palm against the curve of her hip. Sal doesn’t answer. She just closes her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek.
Luke sits with Sal until she falls asleep. Downstairs, he can hear people scurrying around, cleaning up as quietly as possible. Gently, he slips Sal’s hand into his. The pulse in her wrist beats strong and healthy, but still, the fear that’s slowly dissipated over the last year bubbles up from its depths.
She has to be okay. She has to.
