A quiet laugh escaped me as I slipped the phone back into my bag. Carrying the medicine alone, I headed to the patient lounge—no escort, no hand to guide me, no one to lean on.
And for the first time, I didn’t ask for one.
The hours crawled by as I forced myself to finish the bitter herbal brew and thick medicinal infusion the clinic had prescribed. Each swallow felt heavier than the last. The room tilted every time I shifted my weight, dizziness rolling through me in waves. More than once, I had to clutch the cool edge of the marble counter to keep myself upright, my knuckles whitening as I fought the weakness.
I reached for my phone, meaning to call Rocco—but my chest tightened the moment the screen lit up. No messages. No missed calls. Not even a careless “Are you home?” or “Rest well.” Nothing.
Disappointment settled deep in my stomach.
After a long breath, I dialed his number anyway, schooling my voice into something steady. “Rocco, I’m still at the clinic,” I said evenly.