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My heart started racing. I didn’t want there to be anything wrong with him. Surely, the universe wouldn’t be so cruel.
“I’m here for you,” I said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thanks, baby.” Pulling over to the side of the road, he withdrew his hand from mine and gave me a quick glance. “I love you too.” He pressed the button on the display. “This is Champion.”
“Hello, Mr. Valentine,” a woman said. “This is Dr. Booth’s PA. I’ll send you through.”
“Mr. Valentine,” an elderly man with a big voice boomed. “It’s Dr. Booth. Good news.”
Champion exhaled, his tight features relaxing.
“Your MRI is perfectly normal. I really don’t believe it’s your previous concussions that’s causing your migraines. Based on our conversation, if I were to guess what’s causing them, I’d say it’s stress.”
“That’s a relief,” Champion said, his voice rough.
“Are you still planning on retiring?” Dr. Booth asked.
“I’m not a hundred percent sure,” Champion said. “I was just discussing that with my girlfriend.”
“You didn’t mention a girlfriend. That’s a new development.”
“A very recent and good one.” Champion glanced at me, and I smiled.
“Well, I’d recommend antianxiety medication, a low dose to see if that makes any difference with your headaches.” The line went quiet for a moment. “But it might not be necessary. It might be a simple matter of having the right person in your corner, someone to talk to, that reduces your stress.”
There was typing in the background. Apparently, he was updating Champion’s chart.
“I think you might be right.” Champion looked at me again, holding my gaze. “I haven’t had any headaches since I met Electra.”
Knowing that made more light pour into the remaining dark places inside me. “But you’re in the off-season right now,” I said.
“She’s right,” Dr. Booth said. “Is that Electra?”
“Yes. Hello, Dr. Booth. Thank you for taking care of Champion.”
“My pleasure, young lady.”
The line went silent again except for the physician’s typing. Beside us, on the other side of a barbed-wire fence, a longhorn slowly ambled toward the Navigator.
“How about I have my PA schedule a follow-up appointment? If your headaches return, we’ll discuss medication options. Sound good?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Champion said.
“Excellent. We’ll text you our next available in a month or so. Have good day. Both of you.” Dr. Booth ended the call.
“I’m so glad everything’s okay,” I said.
“Me too.” Champion nodded.
“Not good that you were having so much stress it gave you migraines.” My brows drew together.
“But good that I don’t have them with you.” His gaze softened. “My life is full with you, E. You make me happy, not stressed.”
“You make me happy too. But I feel guilty because my family—”
“Don’t.” Cutting me off, he took my hand again and squeezed it. “They wouldn’t want you to feel guilty. They’d want you happy. They would want you living your life, making a place for yourself. Even starting a family of your own.”
I let that sink in. His advice closely mirrored Ally’s. So, it wasn’t entirely brand new. When two people who genuinely cared about you said the same thing, it was time to start paying attention and make changes.
