Weak.
“Meg says the photographer’s downstairs already. Are you—”
He opened the door.
Then stopped.
I remember the expression on his face more clearly than I remember the pain.
His smile disappeared.
“Jesus.”
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I think something I ate—”
I tried to stand.
My knees folded.
Daniel caught me before my shoulder hit the tile.
His hands were warm against my cold skin.
“Claire. Look at me.”
“I’m looking.”
“Can you stand?”
“I just did.”
“No. You collapsed.”
“I’m dramatic, remember?”
It was supposed to be a joke.
Daniel didn’t laugh.
He touched my forehead, then grabbed his phone.
“We’re going to the hospital.”
I panicked.
Not because I wanted to stay.
Because Linda’s voice immediately appeared inside my head.
Megan’s wedding.
The photographs.
The schedule.
Daniel escorting Linda down the aisle.
“Daniel, you can’t.”
He stared at me.
“What?”
“Your mom. Megan.”
“I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do.”
“My wife can barely sit upright.”
“It’s probably a stomach bug.”
“Then a doctor will tell us that.”
“Daniel—”
Another spasm hit.
It felt as though somebody had driven a metal hook into my abdomen and twisted it.
I folded forward.
The last thing I remember was Daniel shouting my name.
Then darkness.
When I opened my eyes again, ceiling lights were racing above me.
Bright rectangles.
One after another.
My body moved, but I wasn’t walking.
I realized I was on a gurney.
Someone wearing blue scrubs leaned over me.
“Claire? Can you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Good. We’re taking you for imaging.”
“Daniel?”
“Your husband is right outside.”
The pain returned.
Harder.
I gasped.
The nurse squeezed my shoulder.
“I know. We’re giving you something.”
Everything blurred again.
When my awareness sharpened, Daniel was beside me.
His wedding suit jacket was folded over one arm.
His white shirt was damp at the collar.
He was holding my hand.
A doctor stood near the foot of the bed.
“We believe your appendix has ruptured.”
I blinked.
“Ruptured?”
“There’s evidence of perforation and infection. You need surgery.”
The room went silent.
Not truly silent.
Machines still beeped.
A cart rolled past in the hallway.
Somewhere nearby, a child was crying.
But inside me, everything stopped.
Daniel tightened his hand around mine.
“How soon?” he asked.
“As soon as we can get her upstairs.”
“What happens if we wait?”
The doctor’s expression shifted.
He looked directly at Daniel.