Sola’s own health and safety had been a burden for that reason.

But now, in the midst of whatever crisis this was, she found that she had backup—and not in the gunfight kind of way. No, she had someone at her six to process decision-making with. To share grief with. To collapse against when she needed a fall-apart before she could keep going.

She reached over and took his hand. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

His eyes, as sad as her own, lifted. “I will not desert you in this.”

If that was not a vow, she didn’t know what was.

Leaning in, she put her hand on the side of his face and brushed his lips with her own. “Thank you—”

As the door to the patient room opened, she stiffened and tried to read the features of the doctor. “What,” she demanded.

But Dr. Manello didn’t seem offended by the rudeness. “We’re looking good. We’re looking reaaaaaaal good.”

“Wait—what?” She shook her head. “What are you—wait, what?”

He smiled. “Her heart’s good. Her blood work’s fine. There’s no evidence of a blood clot or stroke. Her pressure’s still a little on the low side, but she hasn’t been eating or drinking much so she’s dehydrated and she needs to get some rest—”

“No more cooking!” Sola stamped her foot. “She’s been at that goddamn stove since we got out of the car—I’ve told her to sit down and let us wait on her. She’s so stubborn!”

In spite of its quick onset, her burst of anger burned out quick, and in its wake came a shaky relief that made Sola sag against Assail.

Dr. Manello nodded his head. “She is a little set in her ways from what I’ve seen. And listen, going forward, use me. Tell her that she has to behave better or you’re calling her doctor in to read the riot act to her.”

Sola put her hand over her pounding heart. “She scared the crap out of us.”

“I think she scared herself. And I want to keep her here for a day or two, just to make sure we’re not missing anything.”

“That’s a great idea. Keep her as long as you like.”

“Just so you know, she is not happy with this plan.”

“I don’t think she would be,” Sola muttered. “But it’s not her call.”

Dr. Manello gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Go on in there. You guys are welcome to visit anytime, and call me if you have questions. Don’t be alarmed at the IV. We’re just running fluids into her and some electrolytes. And the monitors are simply there to keep track of things. I’m going to repeat some tests tomorrow at nightfall and we’ll see where we’re at. But again, a couple of days of observation here would be great for me.”

“Then that is what we’re going to do. Thanks, Doc.”

“You are so welcome.”

Sola glanced at Assail. “I’d like to have a moment alone with her? So I can yell at her?”

He bowed low. “But of course. I shall wait here.”

After she kissed him again, she went for the door like an avenger, opening it wide with every intent to yell—but then she had a sudden wobble as she saw her grandmother so small in the big bed. And she was really glad the doctor had given her a heads-up on the IV and the equipment. If she hadn’t known better, she would have been alarmed.

“Vovó, you’re staying here,” Sola said before the woman opened her mouth. “Stop with that right now. It’s doctor’s orders and we are going to do what they say.”

Talk about a glower. Her grandmother’s eyebrows dropped so low, she looked like she was peering through venetian blinds.

But there was no argument. Which told Sola she wasn’t the only one spooked by what had happened.

Sola went in and pulled a chair over to the bedside. Taking her vovó’s hand, she smiled a little. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

There was a grunt. But then her grandmother sighed. “I am older than I think I am.”

“I pushed you pretty hard with that car ride. In this, I am sorry.”

“I am glad we are here. It was all worth it.”

They sat in silence for a little while. And then her grandmother closed her eyes.

“If you don’t marry him, I’m going to die—”

“Vovó! What are you saying!”

Her grandmother opened one lid. “That if you do not marry him, it will kill me and my death will be on your conscience for the rest of your life. That is what I’m saying.”

Just as Sola was about to absolutely-not-fair that one, her grandmother winked at her. “Gotcha.”

“That is not okay, Vovó. And you know it.”

“I will use anything I can.”

“Listen, your message has been received. Okay? There’s no need to press anymore. Your job, if you want to look at it like that, is to live long enough to see the ceremony. How’s that sound?”

“But then you will never go down the aisle. Just to keep me here.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Where is he?”

“Waiting outside.”

“Bring him in. I want to see my grandson-in-law.”

“We aren’t married yet, Vovó,” Sola said dryly.

“Not my fault, is it.”

* * *

—

Assail stayed outside of that patient room, mired in a skittish, annoying energy that made him want to run laps up and down the training center.

Indeed, this whole growing-a-conscience thing for him was full of angst. After a lifetime of not caring about anyone over himself, to be this concerned with Mrs. Carvalho was a change—on top of the guilt he was now carrying about—

When Marisol opened the door abruptly, he stiffened. “Is she okay? Shall I summon the healer?”

Marisol shook her head and smiled. “She wants to see you.”

Assail straightened the loose cashmere sweater he had pulled on before leaving the house—and found himself wishing that instead of casual slacks, he were in a tuxedo.

As if formality would somehow increase the older woman’s chances of survival.

Entering the patient room, he had a brief hiccup of dissociation as his brain connected the dots…and came to the realization that Marisol’s grandmother was in an identical room to the one he had spent all that time in. But before memories could tackle him and render him useless, he snapped out of it and told himself to smile.

“Mrs. Carvalho,” he said as he approached the bed. “You are looking very well indeed—”

The elderly lady interrupted him with a weak voice. “If you do no marry my granddaughter, I will die—”

“Vovó!” Marisol snapped. “Are you even serious right now!”

The woman put her arm over her forehead. “I am feeling faint. I feel no good—”

Alarmed, Assail all but lunged for the door. “Madam! I must summon—”

“Baloney,” Marisol said as she put her hands on her hips. “Why aren’t any of those machines going off?”

Mrs. Carvalho dropped her arm and appeared irked by the logic. “They no work. Pieces of junk.”

“You need to stop this right now—”

Marisol’s grandmother looked at Assail. “I must have my granddaughter taken care of and I choose you—”

“Okay, that’s it.” Marisol threw her hands up. “We’re leaving—”

Assail approached the bedside and took the old woman’s hand. Staring deeply into her eyes, he lowered his voice. “I do not deserve her. You must realize this.”

Mrs. Carvalho smiled so deeply, she glowed with the beauty she must have had when she was young. “And that is why I choose you. You recognize she is best.”

“She is everything. She is the whole world.”

“You make me happy. I sleep now. You a good man.”

As those eyes began to close, Assail rubbed his thumb back and forth on that gnarled hand. The bones were too close to the surface for his comfort, a reminder that this fixture in Marisol’s life—and now his own—indeed did not have an eternity in front of her.