Page 18 of Country Vows

She is here.

The difference I was searching for moments ago? We’re separated, and this is the first time we’ve seen each other in over a year.

And I’d fucking forgotten.

I force myself to sit up, wincing at the deep ache in my muscles, and glance at the nurse. I chewed my tongue to shit, making speaking painful and difficult. “She’s okay to be in here.”

Somewhat satisfied, the nurse suddenly wears a megawatt smile. “The doctor will be in shortly to discuss your test results with you, Mr. Brooks. She wants to arrange an MRI before you’re discharged.” I know why she’s being sweet. I can spot a fan a mile away. “I, um, was wondering if me and a few of the nurses could get your signature? If it isn’t too much bother.”

Talia snorts. “Unbelievable.”

I force the best smile I’m capable of. “How about you speak to my manager outside? He can arrange for some signed T-shirts and backstage passes to my next concert.”

She beams at me. “That would be amazing. I’ll go see where the doctor is up to on her rounds.”

Once she skips out of the room, Talia visibly relaxes. I slump into the pillows with a tired sigh. Neither of us speaks. The tip of her button nose twitches. She’s too far for me to reach, but like muscle memory, my index finger taps three times into the mattress.

“Did my mom call you?” I break the silence.

She turns to me, then spots the empty cup by my bedside. Without responding, she picks it up, refills it from the jug across the room, and hands it to me.

I gulp it down, the cool liquid soothing the cuts on my tongue. “Thank you,” I say with a gasp and place the cup on the table.

Talia gives me a curt nod. I despise this awkwardness between us with every fiber in my body. “Baby⁠—”

“Don’t call me that, Tate, just…” She sighs and drags a hand over her face. “Your mom wanted to be here, but she isn’t fit to travel yet.”

“You know about her surgery?”

Another stiff nod. “She didn’t want you being alone.”

Ah. She’s here because of my mom’s request, not because she wants to be. Technically, I’m not alone, with Howard hovering around me like a bad smell while he reports back to the label and the security he’s put outside the door.

“What day is it?”

Talia blinks at me. “July seventh.”

I missed the Santa Clara concert, and while I hate to disappoint fans, it isn’t exactly at the top of my priority list right now.

Before I can ask her any more questions, the doctor strolls in. “Tate, good to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Nothing I’m not used to, though it’s been a while since my last seizure. Forgot what a doozy they are.”

“This was a big one.” She scans the chart in her hands. When she spies Talia standing off to the side, she asks, “Are you happy having this conversation now?”

“Anything you have to say, you can share in front of my wife.” I overaccentuate the word wife, just to see Talia’s reaction. She does a terrible job at hiding her wince. I should ask the doctor to check for a dagger in my heart.

“Okay. We ran your bloods when you came in and there were no traces of Keppra or any other anti-seizure medication in your system. We gave you a loading dose on arrival to stop any further seizures.”

Talia, who has tried to make herself invisible since the doctor walked in, comes to life. “You’re not taking your meds?”

“I forgot. Once. Could’ve sworn I took them yesterday morning. Or…” I tug at my neck. “Shit, I can’t remember.”

“One time is all it takes.” Talia spins away.

“You were brought in last night, and you’ve slept most of today. Your manager says you were a little out of it, so I suspect you experienced an absence seizure before the tonic-clonic. There were some other concerns too,” the doctor continues. “Your heart rhythm was a little irregular, which could be caused by the seizure, but your iron count is also very low. Have you experienced any fatigue recently?”

“Yeah, but the tour…” Talia’s spine stiffens at the word, and I clear my throat. “The tour has been nonstop and demanded a lot of my time. Sleep be damned. No rest for the wicked, huh?”