Page 110 of Crash

“Maybe you’re the reason she’s been sick.” Blake’s accusation to Eli cut through the tension like a knife.

The words hung in the air for a moment before landing. Eli’s face transformed from anger to stunned disbelief.

“You think Ipoisonedher?” He stared at Blake with wide eyes. “What, are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Do you have access to poisons?” Blake’s voice was emotionless now, which somehow made it worse.

Eli’s eyes ping-ponged between us. “Poisoning you? Really?” The hurt in his voice slapped me across the face.

“He’s just trying to rule out all possibilities,” I explained. “That’s all.”

“That’s all, huh?” Eli’s laugh was bitter. “Sounds to me like you’re stumped, Doctor. You thought you were so smart, that after a year of other doctors failing to diagnose Tessa’s symptoms, you’d swoop in and figure it out in no time. And when that didn’t work, you couldn’t admit that you’re not smarter than all those other doctors. So, you had to concoct some other explanation to keep her hooked and relying on you to figure this out for her. How convenient that your explanation drives a wedge between her and everyone else she trusts.”

“Eli!” I chided.

“No, Tessa, you need to hear this. If you ask me? There’s only one person in your life that’s toxic. This guy.” Eli turned to me, his eyes soft with hurt. “After all we’ve been through, I can’t believe you would eventhinkI would do that to you.”

Shame burned my cheeks.

“I was the one encouraging you to pursue a diagnosis when you wanted to give up,” he continued. “I was the one who would drive you to your appointments and take off work. At the risk of sounding like a jerk, your illness negatively affected my life and our relationship. So, what exactly would I have gained, Tessa?”

He was right. It made no sense.

Plus, if he really wanted me dead, I’d be dead by now.

“Eli …”

“Goodbye, Tessa.”

The pink binder hit the porch with a hollow thud, and Eli stormed off. His car door slammed, tires screaming against pavement as he peeled away.

“He’s right,” I whispered, the words tasting like defeat. “Looking at everyone in my life like a suspect is unhealthy, Blake.”

“Tessa …”

“Look, my relationship with Eli didn’t work out. Part of that was because he wasencouragingme to figure out what was making me sick. In your theory, that would’ve put him in jail, so it doesn’t make sense. Even though Eli and I broke up, we were on good terms.Werebeing the operative word.”

“I’m sure he’ll come back.”

“It’s not just him. I won’t let this happen to everyone else in my life. There is no coming back from accusing someone of trying to murder you, Blake.” My voice cracked. “If I were Eli, I would never want to talk to me again either. I’m ashamed of myself for entertaining this idea.”

“Tessa …”

I spun around, anger and hurt making me bold. “You will not confront anyone else in my life with this accusation, do you hear me?”

“And what if I’m right?”

I paused. “In the unimaginably, unlikely event that some kind of toxin is found in my veins, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But you’re a doctor. You know as well as I do that doesn’t necessarily mean someone in my life is poisoning me. There are outbreaks all the time at food processing plants or supplement companies. Think about all the areas within the supply chain where something we ingest or come into contact with can be inadvertently contaminated. Groundwater, medicine, food, supplements, cosmetics. You name it. So, keep that in mind because we are not speaking this thought aloud again, do you hear me?”

“What are you doing?” Blake asked, his attention fixed on my hand as I locked my front door.

“After careful consideration, this wild goose chase of visually inspecting my place for possible poison is fruitless and dangerous. We both have busy days ahead of us.”

Blake’s chest puffed up, squaring his shoulders like he was facing down a difficult patient as he glanced at my front door. I could read the proposal forming on his face—that he would go inside alone, play detective in my townhouse. But he was an emergency room doctor, for crying out loud, not a poison control expert or a drug-sniffing canine. What did he realistically think he would find?

Nothing. That was the problem.

Blake’s anxiety over my illness was unraveling into irrational thoughts and wild theories. Again. For that reason alone, I prayed the latest round of testing would reveal an answer.