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Chapter 137: Someone's got a date
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Diagnosis: Love Chapter 138: Dinner for two
ALISON "I feel like such a loser, inviting you out to dinner and then having to ask you to do the driving." I stood on the front porch of Noah's beautiful home, and for a long moment, I couldn't even speak because somehow in the days since I'd last seen him, I'd managed to convince myself that he couldn't really be as hot and handsome as I'd remembered. It took me a few seconds to process what he'd said upon answering the doorbell, and when I did, I burst out laughing. "What?" He spread his arms belligerently. "It's true. I should have hired a car to come pick you up and drive us to the restaurant.""Noah." I spoke his name quietly, but it was all it took for him to stop ranting and look at me. "I told you last night, I don't mind at all. I'd rather do it this way-otherwise, we'd have a stranger playing third wheel most of the night." He studied me briefly and then nodded. "You're right.""Plus, why shouldn't I drive since the restaurant's closer to you, too? I promise, thi
Diagnosis: Love Chapter 139: Because I met you
ALISONI twisted my hand so that my fingers laced with his. "Are you sure you weren't lying about being the top of your class? That's some fancy word work there." "Lying . . .?" He squinted as if trying to figure out what I meant, and then his face cleared. "Oh, the hospital. Two lies and a truth. Yeah, I wish that wasn't a lie, but even my fancy word work didn't get me in the top ten percent. But I try to be the exception to the rule when it comes to dumb athletes." "You're definitely not dumb. I don't know many football players, but the two I have met-you and Jackson-tell me that the stereotype is a joke." "You'd be mostly right. I'm acquainted with a few idiots, but this career can be complicated. You can't be an idiot and survive." He waved the hand that wasn't holding tightly onto mine. "That's neither here nor there, and stop trying to divert me. You heard what I said a minute ago."I expelled a soft breath. "I did.""And are you afraid I'm right or worried about destroy
Diagnosis: Love Chapter 140: Final words
DEACON"Good morning, Noah. How're you feeling?" I gazed up at my surgeon, who looked far too chipper and awake for so early on a Tuesday morning. Then again, maybe alertness and optimism were traits one wanted in the guy who was about to cut into one's leg."Ready to get this over with," I answered him. "I traveled with the team this weekend to watch my teammates play against Atlanta. I made the trip just to sit on the sidelines and watch them lose when I knew I could've helped to change that outcome. I don't want to do that again." The doctor frowned. "You know I'm not making any promises about you playing again, Noah. No doctor in his right mind would. Let's get past this procedure, see how you heal . . . and then we'll talk." I rolled my eyes. "Please, doc, enough with the flowery words and apple pie promises. I'm not the kind of guy to drop trou when you bat your eyes and sweet talk me." "All evidence to the contrary." The doctor gestured to my hospital gown with a smirk
Diagnosis: Love Chapter 141: Silence
ALISON "When did I become this woman?" I sat in my office at my desk, staring down at my cell phone. My fingers were knotted together in my lap, and a bottle of antacids was open on the blotter because my idiot nerves had been souring my stomach. It had been five days since Noah's surgery. Five days and eight hours since my last text from him, the one that had read, They're making me give up my phone now, so I'll catch you on the flip side. Don't work too hard today. I'll just be lying around sleeping . . . talk to you in a few, beautiful.I hadn't responded because I'd figured he wouldn't see it until he was back in his hospital room. But that final text had come at seven-forty-five in the morning, and when I still hadn't heard anything by four that afternoon, I'd been mildly concerned. I hadn't been really worried, though, because I knew how hospitals worked. They might've taken his phone away and then surgery could've been delayed for hours. This wasn't emergent, and the OR m
Diagnosis: Love Chapter 142: Coma
ALISON The days all bled together until another week had passed, and then, slowly and painfully, another few days. I lived for the occasional text from Emma.No change. Running more tests.Docs are trying something today-fingers crossed.Off vent today-yay! His mom says he's breathing well on his own. Good news.When Noah had been unconscious for fourteen days, I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I left the office an hour early and drove to the hospital, my still-numb mind on autopilot. Once I was in the parking lot, I sat in my car and called Emma."Hey-am I catching you at a bad time?" "Eh-you know what it's like here." She sounded slightly harried. "If it's not one thing, it's five others. And that's on a slow day." "I vaguely remember." I tried to inject a little wry humor in my voice. "Have I mentioned that I don't miss that?" "Watch it, babe, there's talk that we're going to hire another full-time doc after the first of the year. I might be hitting you up to consid
Diagnosis: Love Chapter 143: Drowsy
NOAH My eyes were so fucking dry, it felt like I'd been on a three -day bender. I couldn't quite open them. And I couldn't move. It felt like just seconds ago that I'd been in the gardens with Angela, soaking up some crazy real or dream time with my wife, with the woman I'd missed so much. I wondered idly if I'd fallen asleep there in the grass. Maybe if I managed to get my eyes open, I'd see the flowers and bridges and sunshine. Or maybe not because I was just now beginning to hear some odd sounds around me. There were muted voices, the squeaking of rubber shoes on the floor, some beeping and a weird whooshing sound. I decided not to stress about opening my eyes just yet. I wasn't outside, that was certain. There was a smell in the air, and it wasn't springtime in Wisconsin. My fingers twitched, and I realized that I felt cotton beneath them. Memory began to ooze back in uneven spurts. I'd been in the hospital. My knee-the doctor was operating to fix . . . something. Tendons?
Diagnosis: Love Chapter 144: Shocker
ALISON"Hello, Alison." Brooke Slater was standing behind her favorite wing chair as I entered her office. "Come on in and sit down. How are you today?" Usually, I chose to sit opposite my therapist in the chair that was a mate to hers, but today, I sank down into the loveseat, leaning into the corner. "I'm . . . I'm a mess. That's why I'm here, obviously." I dropped my handbag onto the floor and kicked off my shoes. Brooke Slater and I had discovered early in our professional relationship-therapist to client-that we both talked better when our shoes were off. It was probably representative of shedding the need for cover and defense, Brooke posited. I didn't care; I was just grateful that I'd found a doctor who didn't mind that I liked to get comfortable when I was spilling my guts. "Well, you cancelled two appointments earlier this month, and then when you called for this one, you said it was urgent. That leads me to believe that you're struggling with something." I gave a hu
Diagnosis: Love Chapter 145: Not what I wanted to hear
NOAHIt took a solid week before I was able to stay awake long enough to begin to make sense of what had happened to me over the past month. At first, I tended to forget certain details each time I emerged from sleep, and I had to be reminded again and again that I was in the hospital, that I'd been unconscious, that I was recovering. Dr. Lawrence ran a gamut of tests to make certain that I wasn't suffering from a neurological issue that they'd somehow missed, but everything came back negative. The neuro doc's opinion was that I was fine, that I was just taking a little longer to come back to my full mental strength. Since I showed marked improvement every day, that seemed to be the most logical explanation.My frustration levels didn't help me, either. My mother hovered constantly, worry etched on her face. When I snapped at her, she began to cry and said she was just trying to help . . . which then made me feel guilty. My mother had been here in Florida at my bedside for a month
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