He rests his hand on my back. "We're running tests. Caleb and Rowan are with her. I'll take you to them."
Tests. The word itself doesn't define a thing. She's had tests before and each time the results have been the same. She's anxious. She gets worked up. She demands attention.
"Did anyone call Asher?" Her voice is the first thing I hear when I push the blue curtain separating her cubicle from others aside. "Will he come? Is he coming to see me?"
Caleb is sitting in a plastic chair, drawn close to the bed. Rowan, still in the silver sheath dress she wore earlier, is standing behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders.
"He can't right now, Gianna," she says quietly. "I told him we'll call him once we know more."
"I want to speak to him." Her voice quivers. "Can someone get him on the phone?"
I step forward, not only to answer her question, but to relieve my brother from his post. "I'm here. I came when I heard."
Her eyes drift lazily over my face, never stopping to acknowledge my presence. "If you tell Asher I need him, he'll come."
"Tell me how you're feeling, Mother." I pat Caleb on the shoulder signaling for him to move. "I'll sit with you now."
"Her blood pressure spiked." Rowan glances at me. "She was having trouble breathing. I was in the kitchen making her a coffee and Caleb was changing in the bedroom. I heard her fall."
"She went home with you?" I ask with a cock of my brow. My mother has a suite at the hotel the company owns in midtown. It's a private space dedicated just to her for when she's in New York.
Caleb squeezes my shoulder. "I thought it best. I was hoping we could both speak with her in the morning together about the latest development with dad."
I cast my gaze down at the bed. It's obvious that this is more than an anxiety attack. The color has drained completely from her face. She's visibly shaking.
"Are you alright?" I lean down to kiss her forehead. "What happened? Did you feel faint?"
Her bottom lip quivers slightly before her eyes settle on Caleb and then me. "He called when I stepped into the powder room."
I take a deep breath, understanding now. She knows. Father called to tell her.
"I think my heart is broken." Her hand, with a tube attached to administer an IV, rests in the middle of her chest. "He loves someone else. He's never going to love me again."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Isla
"Have you ever been in love, Isla?"
I wonder if this is a trick question. It might be genuine but it's doubtful. I'll answer honestly because that's the best policy, or so they say. Besides, this conversation may actually help to get my mind off of Gabriel. I'm still floating after what happened in his car last night. "No, I've never been in love."
"Is it because of your weight?"
Well, fuck. I stepped right into that.
"What's wrong with my weight?"
Cicely's eyes run over the same pink wrap dress I wear at least once a week. "Nothing. I mean you're not exactly overweight. I guess you're what people refer to as curvy."
I guess you're what I refer to as a raging bitch.
"I haven't had any complaints." I smooth my hands down my sides to my waist.
"You said you have a boyfriend," she segues effortlessly. "Don't you love him?"
"No." I pull more bras out of the cardboard box at my feet. "I had a boyfriend and I didn't love him."
"He dumped you, didn't he?"