Page 93 of Handsome Devil

“Then use other fucking parts of your body,” Tate enunciated slowly, callously. “Your brain, for instance.”

“Tate,” I breathed out, my lungs devoid of oxygen, my stomach swimming with dread. “Please, let him finish.”

“We can only offer palliative care at this juncture.” Dr. Stultz pulled open a drawer, taking out a brochure. “She is severely malnourished and dehydrated. Unable to eat on her own. She hasn’t been fully conscious for some time. She keeps getting new infections before she finishes battling old ones,” he explained, grabbing a pen and circling a phone number in the brochure. “She’ll need the assistance of a feeding tube to continue living. In addition, her immune system is compromised as she’s currently suffering from pneumonia, periodontal, and Lyme disease. She’sgoing to be transferred to UC in the next hour to treat these conditions.”

“What’s next for her after UC?” I asked. She wasn’t going to stay there forever. Hopefully.

I realized in my haze that Tate’s leg tapping had a rhythm.

Two, six, two.

Two, six, two.

Two, six, two.

And then I realized italwayshad a rhythm. Every time I caught him tapping, it was always the same. Compulsive. Yet almost soothing in an abstract way.

“Since she doesn’t meet the criteria for our clinical trials, her condition has advanced beyond our capabilities…” Dr. Stultz turned the brochure in my direction on the table, pushing it my way. “This is a great hospice nearby. Highly recommended. Once she’s stable for discharge, she will need to be checked into an institution that prioritizes her comfort, because her decline will be rapid, I’m afraid.”

His words sliced at me like knives, leaving searing pain everywhere they landed. It was well and truly over. I wasn’t getting her back.

“What about…um, keeping her at home?” I didn’t even look at Tate for permission. Fuck that.

Dr. Stultz shook his head. “Her health has deteriorated to a point she needs easy access to medical assistance. She might be able to be discharged and go home closer to passing away.”

“This is bullshit.” Tate stood abruptly, slamming his palms against the desk and towering over Dr. Stultz like a bloodthirsty hound. I’d never seen him this mad in my life. “You’re supposed to be the best in your field.”

“Iamthe best in my field.”

“Then keep her alive,” Tate commanded.

“I wish I could.”

“Youcan,” Tate argued. “Figure out a way if you want your career to survive.”

Dr. Stultz fumbled for the button under his desk. I didn’t think he was actually going to use it—who knew? Maybe he would—but I didn’t leave it up to chance. I grabbed Tate’s sleeve and tugged him away before he launched himself at a healthcare provider.

“Come on. Let’s go.” I hated the twinge of desperation that leaked through my voice.

“I’m sorry, Gia.” Dr. Stultz put his hands back on the table.

“It’s fine.” My head was a mess, and I felt like a stranger in my own body. My entire existence was falling apart, but I kept my head high. “Thank you, Dr. Stultz. I appreciate it. Please don’t worry about security. We’ll be off now.”

I had to physically shove Tate away from the doctor’s office and toward the elevators. His body was like an ancient statue of marble, heavy and punishingly hard, refusing to budge as we stumbled into the hallway. Punching the button to the lift, I sighed and pressed my forehead to the cool wall tiles.

“Before you get any ideas, you can’t divorce me until she flatlines.” He got in my face, snarling.

I spun around, too shaken to understand what was really happening.

“W-what?”

“Our deal. The terms of which were abundantly clear. You can only divorce me when she dies. Not before. Even if she’s in hospice,” he clipped out, his eyes darkening into something terrifying. “Even if she is in a vegetative state for years. It’s all in the fine print. Read it.”

Sourness exploded all over my tongue.

What kind of monster did I marry? This was the time when he was supposed to comfort me. Or at least pretend to give half a shit. Instead, he was reminding me of the terms of myimprisonment. “That’s what you care about right now?” I had to hold my own head to keep it from exploding. “Your precious deal?”

Tate’s expression remained blank and empty. “This was always about business.”