Control Freak

I follow them, terrified of that door closing and being stuck on the other side. Mrs. Petrou starts to flat out tell me to leave them alone, but Petrou hushes her and then clamps a hand on my shoulder, leading me through with him.

I take back every unworthy, critical thing I ever thought about Petrou. I take it all back.

Mr. and Mrs. Petrou sit with the doctor in a waiting room, and I stand against the wall. The doctor flicks me a curious look before turning to the Petrous. He talks calmly, but the words strike me like daggers. Mitral valve prolapse. Heart surgery required.

Mrs. Petrou asks a question and I hear, complications of damage to the heart common in anorexics.

I bury my face in my hands, the blood roaring in my ears. She’s only twenty-five and she’s trying so hard. She doesn’t deserve this.

The doctor leaves the room. I can hear someone pacing up and down, but I can’t look up.

A short while later the doctor comes back, saying that Lacey is awake if we want to see her. I follow the Petrous down the hall and into a private room. Lacey is in a hospital gown and propped up against the pillows. She’s awake, but her face is ashen. There’s a drip with a needle going into the back of her hand, and it looks frail and small beneath the medical tape.

Ruefully, like a child who’s found herself in trouble yet again, Lacey says hello to her parents. Then she looks past them and sees me.

“Stian,” she says in a cracked voice, and her eyes filled with tears. I step forward and reach for her—but Mrs. Petrou moves in front of me and angrily addresses her husband.

“Get him out. I don’t want that man anywhere near her.”

Over her shoulder, Lacey and I look at each other. Neither of us are surprised by her reaction, but I have to ball my fists to control my temper. That’s my girl in the bed, and I have to go to her.

“Let’s not cause a scene, Faye. For Lacey’s sake,” Petrou says in a placating voice.

“It’s his fault she’s even in here!”

“I want him to stay.” Lacey speaks quietly, but it’s enough to silence both her parents. I step around Mrs. Petrou and go to Lacey.

Lacey’s mother glares at me, her face flushing red. “We’re not going through what we went through last year all over again. You’re ill, and that man has made you worse. I’ll call security. I’ll have him thrown out!”

“Mum, I’ll have you thrown out if you don’t do as I say. This is my hospital room.”

My mouth twitches as I look at Lacey. Even weak and pale as hell, she still has loads of fight in her. I sit down on the chair next to her bed and take her hand, and she grips mine back, hard.

Good girl. We’re going to get through this together.

Petrou puts his arm around his wife and draws her to the side of the room, where they talk in whispers, hers angry and his soothing.

“You get your spirit from your mother, I see,” I say softly, and Lacey gives me a crooked smile.

The doctor comes back and tells her what he told us. Watching her face as she listens to him speak, I find it easier to take in what he’s saying. After complications of damage to the heart common in anorexics I hear what I didn’t hear before.

No increased risk of heart failure. Positive prognosis and full recovery.

I groan and sink over Lacey’s hand, relief flooding through me.

“As I told your family earlier,” the doctor says, “mitral valve prolapse occurs when the valve doesn’t close tightly. The pain and dizziness it causes can be very frightening, but it’s not a life-threatening condition. We performed a scan, and we’re going to take you into surgery as soon as possible. It shouldn’t be longer than a few hours.”

I sit up breathlessly. Tack gode gud.

“He’s only happy because he feels so guilty,” Mrs. Petrou says after the doctor has gone. I don’t give a damn. Lacey’s the only one who matters to me in this room, and she’s gripping my hand back as tightly as I’m holding hers.

“You can go now,” Mrs. Petrou says icily. “Now that you know you haven’t killed her.”

“Faye,” Petrou says sharply.

Even though I don’t want to, I should give the three of them some privacy. “I’ll go outside for a little while, käraste, but I won’t be far away, I promise. I’ll see you after the surgery.” I kiss Lacey’s forehead and stand up.

But Lacey doesn’t let me go. She glances at her parents. “I want to talk to Stian. Alone.”

Chapter Eighteen

Lacey

Mum doesn’t want to go, but I appeal silently to dad, and he finally persuades her out of the room. They haven’t gone far, though. I can hear them talking just outside the door, which they haven’t closed all the way.