Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
There’s a moment as I reach the landing at the top of the staircase where I realize how foolish and controlling I’m being right now, but I’m being spurred on by absolute fear for Regan’s life. A lot of the stuff I read on the plane about PNH was over my head, but some I’d managed to simplify it into understandable terms.
Regan has an incredibly rare bone marrow failure disease that destroys her red blood cells. It occurs because the protein shield around her red blood cells is missing, so it can’t protect the cells from attack by the body’s own immune system. I don’t pretend to understand much more of the mechanics of it, but I read enough to scare the shit out of me. It affects only one in a million people and is a life-threatening disease. What made my legs turn to jelly was when I read the median survival is only ten years after diagnosis. That fucking knocked the wind out of me on the airplane as I flew to San Diego, and I got lost in my thoughts. I wasn’t ready to lose Regan so soon after losing Lance.
But then I read more, and I became heartened when I familiarized myself with the expensive medication she needed.
Over four hundred thousand dollars a year to receive Salvistis, which binds to the proteins that destroy the red blood cells. It’s a lifesaving drug, and she must have it.
Simple as that.
Therefore, I’m heading toward her apartment door with the sole intention of gathering Regan, returning her to Phoenix with me where I’ll marry her on Monday morning, then have her on my insurance by Monday afternoon.
My fist is hammering at the thin wooden door without any hesitation. Within moments, I hear grumbling on the other side before the door is opening to reveal a short Asian man in wrinkled scrubs and his hair sticking up all over the place.
“Yeah?” he rasps as he rubs a hand over his face. I clearly woke him up.
“Is Regan here?” I ask, assuming this to be a roommate. Or fuck, perhaps a boyfriend? He’s about Regan’s age, although a few inches shorter than her, but that might not matter.
It would to me, but Regan doesn’t get stuck on shit like that.
The man coughs and blinks his eyes, focusing on me. “Um… yeah, I think so. I fell asleep on the couch after work last night so not really sure.”
He steps backward, welcoming me into the small living room. The apartment is bare bones and cheaply furnished, but the cost of living is high in this southern California coastal town, so I’m not surprised.
I shut the door behind me, and the man disappears into a short hallway where I can see him knock on a closed bedroom door. “Reggie… you in there?”
Reggie? That totally sounds like a nickname a boyfriend would give her. But still… why is he knocking and not just walking in?
My heartbeat picks up when the door opens and Regan steps into the hallway. She gives the man, who I conclude is her roommate and nothing else, a wan smile. “What’s up?”
An arm is raised, and a finger extended to point through the living room to me waiting at the door. Regan’s neck twists and her eyes round with surprise.
“You have to be kidding me,” she mutters.
“You know him?” the man asks, now scratching at his head before yawning.
“Family friend,” she replies, giving him a quick regard before frowning. “Go to bed, John. You look like hell.”
Her voice is affectionate and warm. The man—John—gives her a sheepish smile. “On it. See you later.”
I watch as he turns on his heel and enters the closed bedroom door directly opposite of Regan’s.
Definitely a roommate.
Regan walks toward me, snagging a blanket John must have been using on the couch and folding it up with quick precision. She nods toward the gaming handset on the coffee table. “He plays video games all night after his shift and doesn’t get enough sleep. He’s a menace to himself.”
“A nurse like you?” I ask, with no genuine curiosity but she seems to care for him.
Nodding, she places the folded blanket on the back of the couch. “Works in anesthesia. We’ve been roommates for a few months now.”
“Seems nice,” I offer.
“He is,” she replies, then narrows her eyes. God, she’s so beautiful. I still can’t get over why this is something I never really noticed before. “What are you doing here, Dax?”
“You know the answer to that,” I reply, strolling over to the couch where I sit. I pat the cushion beside me, beckoning her over. “I realize I may have been a little high handed with you back in New York, and I came so we could talk some more.”
“Oh,” she says sarcastically as she moves around the other end of the couch to join me. “You mean you’re not here to throw me over your shoulder and cart me off to your cave?”