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I nodded as she handed back my documents. Luckily, none of them was a ticket. Doubly lucky I hadn’t admitted to marrying Jimmy. Maybe the officer was loads of fun off duty, but I had a feeling ‘wish him well on his marriage’ would have translated to giving me a ticket. I pushed a response out of my tight throat. “Thanks, Officer. Will do.”

She returned to her squad car, turned off her lights, and pulled out, sliding into traffic. I couldn’t move. My heart raced, and I focused on my breath to bring it back under control. It wouldn’t do to pass out this close to my doctor’s office. I closed my eyes and opened them again. I could only hope Jimmy hadn’t seen me on the side of the road. He’d married me to improve his reputation; I didn’t want him to think I’d make it worse.

When I could breathe easily again, I drove up the hill to the hospital; the practice was on a nearby street of older homes converted into office buildings. Rain lashed the trees planted in the sidewalk islands, and leaves were accumulated in the gutters, creating large puddles. It took forever to find parking on the cramped street, but eventually I squeezed my Subaru in between an aging Toyota and a souped-up red Mazda.

I was walking up to the office’s doors when I saw a familiar figure, still in his navy blue uniform.Hot damn.Jimmy looked good. He’d always changed before our dates; I’d never seen him in uniform. The short sleeves showed off his biceps and forearms to perfection. He reached around me for a hug, and the bumps of his utility belt gear and radio smushed awkwardly between us.

“You know you didn’t have to come, right? I can do this on my own. You won’t get in trouble at work, will you?”

He smiled as we pulled apart. “I know you can, but I wanted to support my wife. I asked for the time. It’s fine.”

There would be no hiding anything about my condition if he came with me. But he’d probably also think of questions I didn’t. I was independent, dammit. But I wanted him there. I ceded to my softer side. It wasn’t weak. Not weak to want him. Not weak to need him. The bastard. Who wasn’t a bastard at all. I sighed and tried to firm up my smile. He asked to get off early to be here. He didn’t deserve my name calling.

“Sure.” Hah. Sure. A whirlwind of self-doubt and reflection encapsulated in one low-key phrase.

His smile widened, and my knees weakened. Just a little bit. It wasn’t my heart condition. It was my heart. He placed a hand low on my back and held the door open as we stepped inside. The receptionist smiled as she checked me in and collected Jimmy’s insurance information. The difference in the tiny co-pay compared to my cost to see a specialist with my deductible under my old plan would have paid for a lavish dinner on the town. I owed Jimmy so much. “Dr. Webb will be with you shortly. Please take a seat and his nurse will call you.”

I nodded and Jimmy and I found seats together. I glanced around the waiting room. Everyone else was easily over sixty. I was too young to be here. I placed a hand over my heart. Stupid heart. Traitor body.

“Are you having an episode?” Jimmy asked, his brow furrowing.

I shook my head and smoothed my expression. “No. Sorry to worry you.”

He smiled. “It’s pretty much in the job description.”

“Is it though? We’re more a marriage of convenience than anything else.”

I could have kicked myself after I let that slip out of my big, fat mouth. His smile dimmed, but he didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to shoot him down, but the voice inside squawking about independence had to remind him. Mostly so I wouldn’t forget. I didn’t want to need him there. He shouldn’t feel beholden to me. He was already giving me his insurance. I couldn’t ask for more.

The first part of the appointment passed in a blur. The nurse took my blood pressure and oxygen levels, and a tech performed another EKG. Then Dr. Webb arrived. Hoo boy. He belonged onGrey’s Anatomy. Too pretty for real life; he even looked like Preston Burke from the show. Very tall, dark, and handsome in his blue scrubs and white coat. I fiddled with my phone while he was studying my chart on his computer and subtly snapped a picture to show Lisa later. She was a huge fan of the show and wouldn’t believe me without proof.

He listened to my heart and reviewed the EKG they’d completed at the hospital compared to the tests run by his tech. In the end, he confirmed the ER’s diagnosis, tachycardia.

“I’ve had more episodes, even on the medication. Is that normal?” I asked.

Dr. Webb nodded as his gaze scanned my body, “It’s a concern.”

“What happens if the medication doesn’t control my symptoms?”

“The most likely option is a catheter ablation.”

Jimmy blanched and spoke up for the first time. “Why would you need to put in a catheter? She’s not having trouble peeing.” He glanced at me. “You’re not, are you?”

I sighed and shook my head. I didn’t have medical training beyond what was needed to get my massage therapy license, but I was pretty sure the doctor wasn’t talking about that kind of catheter. If Jimmy were thinking straight, he’d know that too.

Dr. Webb smiled. “It’s a short procedure where we use radio frequency, similar to a microwave, to destroy the heart muscle cells causing the abnormality in her heartbeat. We go in through a catheter in a vein in the groin area to access the heart muscle.”

“Is it safe?” I asked.

The doctor nodded. “It’s a low-risk procedure.”

Low-risk wasn’t no-risk. It sounded like he was proposing frying me with lasers. Frickin’ laser beams. To the heart. Dr. Webb was sounding more and more like Dr. Evil. I needed to remember he was trying to help me. I shook out of my fog and looked at Jimmy. His brow was furrowed in concern.

“When will we know if that’s necessary?” I asked.

“If you have any further episodes, call my office. We’ll get you scheduled.”

“What about sex?” I blurted out. I could feel my face getting hot. Smooth. I was smooth. I didn’t know where to look—the hot doctor, or my hot husband?