I'm right, of course. Emmett rushes in with Carlisle close behind him, and they both hammer me with questions while Edward gets his bag. Honestly, the crowd just makes it worse, and I think I'm also having a panic attack because now my breath comes in gasps.
"Please, stop," I mumble as Edward comes back into the living room. "You're making it worse by crowding me."
"Give her some room," Edward says, a twinge of authority in his voice. "I'm going to get your O2 sats and take a listen, okay?"
I nod silently as both my brother and Carlisle step back, both looking a little distraught that they're not the ones helping me. Edward clips the little device to my finger, frowning when the number says ninety-two before listening to my chest.
"You need to go home and get on oxygen until this number comes up," he says. "Emmett, she has a little more fluid on the left, so go ahead and increase her lasix tonight to eighty milligrams, and if she's no better tomorrow, we'll bring her into the hospital for a day or two on an IV."
My brother nods. "Are you sure we shouldn't take her in tonight?"
"She's already upset, so let's try getting her home and calm first. If her sats stay low, take her in and call me. For now, I need you to rest, Bella. Just try and build your strength up tomorrow. We don't want you missing your first day, after all."
I nod, keeping my words a little short to help with the whole breathing thing. "Okay."
"Let's get you home, Bells."
Emmett sweeps me into his arms, and I feel even more embarrassed. I say a quick goodbye to everyone, and then we're on our way home, making the fifteen minute drive a ten minute one. I'm taken straight to my room, and he soon has the portable oxygen ready, letting me put the tubing on.
It feels good, and I breathe deeper, hoping this helps. I'm not in the mood for a hospital trip, and I'm not pushing back starting at the bakery. I take my medicine, and Emmett sticks around, sitting on the edge of my bed.
"Why didn't you tell me you didn't feel well?" he asks, and I don't have a good answer.
"I guess I didn't want to worry you," I say with a shrug as tears build in my eyes. "I'm sorry."
He lifts his hand, touching my cheek as he smiles sadly. "That's what I'm here for, Bells—to take care of you. Please don't suffer because you don't want to worry me. I'm strong, okay? I can handle it."
I nod, and he wipes a tear away. "I love you, Em. I'm just … admitting this is really happening is hard. I just want to pretend to be healthy."
"You'll get there again. I promise." He holds out his pinkie like he would when I was a kid, and I give him mine, shaking it.
God, please let him be right—mostly for his sake.
Thanks to May, Nole, Fran, Brier, and Meg for prereading and Sally for Beta'ing.
