What I assumed would be a super-quick visit to take blood completely spiraled the moment Dr. Mercer walked into the room, saw Locke looming in the corner, and asked me about me fainting.
She agreed with Mayhem and Locke about the urgency, and scolded me severely for not coming in yesterday. She then dragged forward every single oncology panel, detailed MRI scan, and full-spectrum blood profile that had originally been scheduled for next week.
Through every single minute of this grueling marathon, Locke hasn't left my side by more than a couple of feet.
Even when the technicians asked him to step back so they could adjust the IV line in my arm, he only retreated as far as the threshold, his broad frame framed in the doorway like a guardian sentinel.
When I was sitting in the chilly wai
