No More Tests in the Name of Love

Brandon Hawthorne said if I wanted to marry him, I had to prove I was tough enough to be a Hawthorne. He took my bank cards, ditched me in a city I'd never been to, and made me figure out how to get home alone. When my fever hit 104°F, he still refused to let the family doctor through the door. Instead, I had to smile through dinner with a house full of Hawthorne relatives while I could barely stay on my feet. And every time I finally asked Brandon for help, he looked at me like I'd failed him. "You can't even handle something this simple. How are you supposed to be my wife?" But when his childhood friend, Patty Rowan, got blisters from her shoes, he picked her up and carried her away in front of everyone. She got a headache in the middle of the night, and he left me alone in the hospital to take the family doctor to her. I asked him why. He frowned. "Patty's fragile. And she's not the one trying to become a Hawthorne." Then came our engagement party. I accidentally ate peanuts. My throat started closing. I couldn't breathe. Brandon grabbed my EpiPen and locked me in the lounge. "This is your final test. If you want to marry me, tough it out." Then Patty called. She had a paper cut. Brandon immediately left with the doctor. "Hold out for ten minutes." I lost track of time. Right before everything went dark, I saw Brandon come back with Patty tucked close beside him. She had a Band-Aid on her finger. Through the haze, I heard the disappointment in his voice. "Patty was bleeding, and she didn't even cry. Are you seriously pretending to be dead?" Then came the final blow. "You failed the test. You're not ready to become a Hawthorne." Chapter 1 When I opened my eyes, Brandon was sitting beside my hospital bed. He was still in his engagement-party suit. His shirt was wrinkled, his eyes bloodshot, and one hand was wrapped in gauze. The second he saw me awake, some of the tension left his shoulders. But he didn't hug me. He just leaned over, touched my forehead, asked grimly. "Scared now?" The oxygen mask dug into my cheeks. I barely managed to speak. "Where's my EpiPen?" "The police took it as evidence." "Why did you take it from me?" Brandon stared at me. The fear in his eyes faded, replaced by that same old disappointment. "Willa, I have questions for you too." My chest tightened. He went on, "Why does every test end with you in the hospital? "You know you're allergic to peanuts. Why didn't you check the ingredients? "And when you couldn't breathe, what did you do besides beg me for your EpiPen? "There was a phone in the lounge. An emergency button on the wall. A window facing the hotel atrium. "So many ways to get help, and you just sat there crying?" My eyes burned. "The worse things get, the calmer you need to be." His mouth tightened. "I'm not blaming you for being scared. "But if I'm not there, are you seriously just going to lie down and die?" "You took my EpiPen." I looked at him. "And you locked the door." Brandon went quiet, then took my hand. His palm was warm, but his voice had that same lecturing tone. "I shouldn't have locked the door. "But I only wanted you to get through ten minutes on your own instead of calling everyone the moment you felt unwell. "I can save you once or twice, but I can't be there every second of your life. "I put you through these tests because I'm scared one day I won't get there in time. "What happened yesterday was partly my fault. "But if all you do is blame me, then you went through all that for nothing." I yanked my hand away and turned my back on him. Tears slipped down my face and soaked into the pillow. For five years, it had always been the same. Brandon would shove me off a cliff, then offer me a hand once I clawed my way back up. And somehow, the pain was always supposed to make me stronger. This time, he'd nearly killed me just to prove a point. I was done. "Brandon Hawthorne. "We're over." Chapter 2 The room went dead quiet. Brandon watched me for a few seconds, then sighed. "Threatening to break up with me the second you wake up. "Guess you still haven't learned to control your emotions." He picked up a cotton swab, dampened it, and wiped the blood from my lips. His touch was as gentle as ever. "You went through something scary, so of course you want to blame me. "But you can't solve every problem by breaking up with me." "I'm not running away." I looked straight at him. "You almost killed me." His hand froze. "Which is why I'm not blaming you for ruining the engagement party." I stared at him. "I ruined it?" "Who else? Grandpa flew back from overseas just for this, and everyone was waiting for you. "Then you got taken away in an ambulance in front of all the guests. Now everyone thinks my fiancée is unstable." Brandon tossed the cotton swab in the trash. "Since yesterday, I've been killing the story, calming down the family, talking to the police, and dealing with the hotel footage. "I'm not asking you to thank me. "But don't wake up and dump all the blame on me." With a few words, he'd turned my near-death experience into another mess he had to clean up. I was done explaining. "Get out." Brandon frowned. "What?" "This is my hospital room." I hit the call button beside the bed. "I need to rest. Please leave." He didn't move. A nurse came in almost immediately. The second she saw my face, she hurried to my bedside. "Ms. Stone, are you feeling okay?" "I need to rest." I didn't even look at Brandon. "Please ask my visitor to leave." The nurse hesitated, then nodded. "She just stabilized. She shouldn't have visitors for too long." Brandon's face darkened. Then the door opened. Patty walked in carrying a container of food. A pale pink Band-Aid covered her index finger. Brandon shot to his feet. "Didn't the doctor tell you to keep that dry?" "I'm fine." Patty hid her hand behind her back. "I just wanted to bring Willa some chicken soup." Brandon took her wrist and checked the Band-Aid. "Does it still hurt?" "A little." "Then tell me when it hurts." He sounded annoyed, but his touch was ridiculously gentle, like she might break. I watched them. Then I laughed. Patty went pale. "Willa, I'm sorry. "I have a fear of blood. When I saw my finger bleeding, I panicked. "I didn't know you were really having an allergic reaction. I thought Brandon would be back soon." "You don't need to apologize." Brandon immediately stepped in front of her. "If you're mad, take it out on me. Don't scare her." "Then why are you allowed to care about her like a normal person? Why is she allowed to have normal emotions?" "You're not Patty." His answer came instantly. "She doesn't have to carry the Hawthorne family on her shoulders. "But you're the woman I chose to marry. "One day, hundreds of Hawthorne Corp employees and dozens of Hawthorne relatives will look to you. "If you fall apart and cry for help every time something goes wrong, who's going to respect you?" "So you're cruel to me because you want to marry me?" The Hawthornes had hurt him, and somewhere along the way, he'd decided pain made people stronger. He hadn't broken free of their rules. He'd just turned around and forced them on me. Brandon pulled a document from his briefcase. "There's an online press conference tomorrow afternoon. "Hawthorne Corp is going after a new overseas deal, and what happened at the engagement party is already hitting the stock price. "All you have to do is tell everyone what really happened. Then the rumors go away." The statement was already written for me. [My fiancé did not stop me from using my emergency medication.] [Claims that I was locked in a room and denied medical care are false.] I looked up at him. "The hotel has security footage. It literally shows you taking my EpiPen." "Exactly why you need to clear this up. Willa, the backlash is getting worse. "It's hurting Hawthorne Corp—and our wedding." "I won't lie." Chapter 3 "Willa Stone!" Brandon shot to his feet. Patty flinched and backed away. He caught himself instantly. Closed his eyes. Sat back down beside me. "Willa, I'm not forcing you. "I'm teaching you to face your problems. "If you speak tomorrow, the wedding can still happen like we planned. "If you hide in this hospital room, everyone's going to think I picked the wrong bride." He leaned closer. There it was again. That same disappointed look. "I fought my family for two years because of you. "Can't you prove yourself for once and show them I made the right choice?" I almost laughed. So even marrying me was some kind of investment. I had to be strong enough. Obedient enough. Perfect enough. All so he could prove he'd chosen well. "Whether you made the right choice isn't my problem." I looked him straight in the eye. "I'm not doing the press conference." *** The next afternoon, Brandon dragged me out of the hospital anyway. My doctor followed us all the way to the elevator, looking pissed. "Mr. Hawthorne, Ms. Stone only stabilized last night. "A severe allergic reaction can come back within twenty-four to seventy-two hours. She needs to stay under observation. She absolutely should not be attending a public event." Brandon stopped. "The press conference will only take ten minutes. "The Hawthorne medical team will be there the entire time." The Hawthorne bodyguards blocked the doctor while I was shoved into the elevator. The livestream setup was already waiting in a private conference room on the hospital's top floor. Brandon draped a jacket over my shoulders and fixed my hair himself. In the mirror, we still looked like a loving engaged couple. "Just read the statement. "Then everything that happened yesterday is over." I met his eyes in the mirror. "And if I don't?" His hands froze. "Stop forcing me to be disappointed in you. "I've already lowered my expectations as far as they can go. "All you have to do is sit here and say a few words. How much more do you expect me to accommodate you?" The livestream countdown started. At the same moment, Brandon's phone vibrated. Patty. Reporters had cornered Patty in the hospital parking lot, and she was crying so hard she could barely breathe. Brandon's expression changed. He turned to leave. I grabbed his sleeve. "Tell Ash to leave my EpiPen here with me." He looked back at me. "You're just reading a statement." "My throat feels itchy." "The doctor just checked you. Everything was normal." "Everything can look normal before a second reaction hits." The concern in his eyes faded into disappointment. "Here we go again. "Every time you actually have to take responsibility, suddenly something's wrong. "Yesterday it was an allergic reaction. Today your throat itches. "Are you magically going to feel better if I stay here and comfort you?" I let go of his sleeve. "I don't need you to comfort me. Let the doctor in and give me back my EpiPen." "The doctor's right outside. What difference does it make?" "You took my medication." "Because you need to learn how to handle a situation instead of letting fear take over!" His voice shot up. "When are you going to get it? "I'm not trying to hurt you. "I'm scared that without me, you won't know how to survive on your own." I looked at him, strangely calm. "Brandon Hawthorne, if I leave you, I'll live a better life than I do now." His face went dark. Patty's sobbing could still be heard through the phone. In the end, Brandon didn't say a word. He just rushed off. Chapter 4 The conference room door slid shut behind him. Linda Finch, Hawthorne Corp's PR manager, spoke through my earpiece. "The livestream's about to start. Everyone, clear the shot." The staff hurried behind the glass wall. A red light blinked on above the camera. The viewer count shot past a hundred thousand. The prepared statement started scrolling across the teleprompter. I ignored it. "Hi, I'm Willa Stone. "About what happened at the engagement party, I'm only going to tell you what I personally experienced." Outside the door, Linda's face changed. I stared straight into the camera. "Brandon Hawthorne took my EpiPen. "He locked it in a cabinet, then locked me in the lounge." The chat exploded. [So it WASN'T a misunderstanding!] [The Hawthornes said the security footage was edited!] [Why does she look so pale?] [Let her rest!] Linda pounded on the glass. "Ms. Stone, please stick to the teleprompter." I ignored her. "I'm here today because Brandon—" My throat suddenly tightened. The words died in my chest. I looked down. Red welts were spreading fast across my arms. The second reaction the doctor warned me about was happening. Clutching my chest, I stumbled toward the glass door. "Doctor... get the doctor in here." Linda froze. "Ms. Stone, please finish the statement first." I slammed my palm against the glass. "I'm having an allergic reaction. My EpiPen..." Brandon's assistant, Ash Eaton, finally moved. He rushed to the door with my EpiPen. But the electronic lock had already engaged. He swiped his key card twice. Red light. "Ms. Finch, Mr. Hawthorne changed the access permissions!" The second Dr. Evan Carter saw the welts on my arms, his face changed. "Open the door. Now! "She could be having another allergic reaction!" Linda panicked. "But Mr. Hawthorne said she gets physical symptoms when she's anxious." "She has a history of severe anaphylaxis!" Dr. Carter ripped the key card from her hand. "Who gave any of you the right to decide she's faking it?" Linda's hands shook as she called Brandon. His voice came through the phone, cold and flat. "Dr. Carter, you saw her test results yesterday. Stress can cause physical symptoms. The more worked up she gets, the worse they'll get." "This is an allergic reaction, NOT ANXIETY!" "You have the EpiPen. Use it if she's actually in danger." "By the time she goes into shock, it could be too late!" "She's not in shock yet." Brandon spoke slowly, like that settled everything. "Make her finish the statement first. "If she gets out of this by saying she's sick, she'll pull the same thing every time she has to face something she doesn't want to." I pressed against the glass and slowly slid to the floor. The chat blew up. [She's NOT faking!] [OPEN THE DOOR!] [Her EpiPen is literally right there!] [Who locked her in?!] [Are we seriously watching someone die on livestream?!] [Someone call 911!] Dr. Carter swung a fire extinguisher at the electronic lock. The glass door shook but held. Linda finally realized how bad things were and frantically called security to override the lock. Then footsteps rushed down the hall. Brandon appeared with Patty tucked protectively against his side. She merely looked pale, clutching his sleeve. The second Brandon saw the fire extinguisher in Dr. Carter's hands, his face darkened. "Who told you to break down the door?" Dr. Carter pointed at me. "Ms. Stone is having a severe allergic reaction. Open the door!" Brandon walked up to the glass. He stopped when he saw me crumpled on the floor. I couldn't speak. I could only lift a shaking hand and point at the EpiPen in Ash's grip. Brandon stared at me like he was still urging me to keep going. He wanted me to keep going. Dr. Carter shoved him aside. "She can't even speak anymore!" Brandon grabbed his wrist. "She had plenty to say on camera. Why can't she speak now that she has to read the statement?" "Her throat is swelling shut!" "She's fighting through the fear." "She'll die if we wait any longer!" Brandon kept his eyes on me. "Last time, everyone gave in, so now she thinks collapsing gets her out of anything. "There are only three lines left. "Give her two more minutes." Then all my strength gave out. My forehead slammed into the glass. The portable monitor hooked to my sensors screamed. The camera's red light was still on. In front of more than a hundred thousand viewers, my heart rate crashed. Dr. Carter went white. "She's not breathing!"