He was right, but going home meant Val would have another reason to keep me there.
“I was so close to being back,” I told him, my words heavy and thick.
“I know, and you will be. Just… not today.” He released a long breath and met my gaze with one that wasn’t nearly as hard as my own. “You know I don’t want to do this, but I need to have you removed from the hospital. You’re unfit to work.
Your heart and body might be fine, but your head’s not in the game. Go home, get some rest, and we’ll start fresh next week.”
“Next week?” I seethed, resisting the urge to clench my hands at my sides. What’s wrong with me? I never got short with Jerry. I was as mellow as they came.
“Do I need to make it a month?” he asked, his brows lifting above his eyes. “I might not call the shots around here, but all I have to do is set up a meeting with—”
“Fine,” I bit out. “I’m going. But next week, I’ll be back.”
And I’ll be back to my usual self as well.
I was sure of it.
The walk to my car didn’t go any better. With the hospital far behind me, the fresh air should’ve helped. Instead, every gust of wind brought another smell along with it. There were the extra potent marigolds someone had planted out front, followed by the heavy smell of exhaust and gasoline from those driving in the city.
The once delicious smell of caramelized onions wafting over from central was enough to make me sick.
Okay, maybe I really was coming down with something, but what? No cold—no matter how strong—hit this hard or this fast after exposure. They took time to incubate. It should’ve taken a day or more for me to feel the way I did.
Besides, most colds started with a cough, the sniffles, or an
itchy throat. Not a heightened sense of smell, hearing, and taste. That was definitely new.
The more I focused on it, the harder it was for me to ignore. Breathing through my mouth only caused my salivation glades to go into overdrive, and every single sound grated on my nerves. The bees buzzing around the flowers sounded more like they were flying right next to my ears.
“Just get home,” I told myself, ducking into the parking garage to get my car.
Gravel shifted under my shoes, echoing inside walls of concrete the deeper in I went.
By the time I reached my car, I had a migraine the size of Mount Vesuvius and could barely stand without losing my breath. My muscles ached like those belonging to an eighty-year-old. When I tried to get in my car, pain rolled up the length of my back, forcing the air from my lungs.
Now I knew it wasn’t the flu. Muscle aches, sure, but this?
The flu shouldn’t have left me doubled-over in pain.
Panicked, I looked back on my schooling and tried to pinpoint where the pain was coming from. There were a lot of illnesses we didn’t deal with on a regular basis, but if someone brought a contagion into the country, I wasn’t the only one at risk.
Sadly, the blood pooling and throbbing behind my ears put a quick end to that. Knowing Val would never let me out of the house ever again, I fished my cell out of my back pocket, cursing under my breath as it clattered to the ground.
When I went to pick it up, my fingers tensed and locked into place.
“Breathe, Jo. Remember to breathe.” All pain, no matter how strong, would eventually pass. My body was just having a panic attack. If I waited long enough and counted my breaths, it would pass.
Deep breath in.
And out.
Every breath I took was harder than the one before it. An invisible hand pressed down on my chest, forcing the air out of my lungs until I couldn’t breathe at all. My heart pounded, crashing against my ribcage as my fight or flight instincts finally kicked in.
“H-hello?” I choked out, hoping someone was close enough to hear me. Lunch had already come and gone, but folks left the hospital all the time. “Help!” I squeaked out. “I…
I need help.”
I tried to pound against the side of my car but my arm refused to move. I thought about it, envisioned it, and still nothing. My heart seized, my muscles locked up, and the only thing I could do was look at my phone which was inches away.