Dr. Callahan moved the cold stethoscope across my skin and I tried not to flinch. Couldn’t she at least warm it up first? Or buy me dinner before she stuck her hand up my shirt?

“For most people a little light-headedness is nothing to be concerned about. It could be a drop in blood pressure after standing up suddenly. Dehydration. Not getting enough sleep.”

I forced myself to smile. “I’m just special like that, huh?” I joked, but it sounded weak in my ears.

“Of course you are,” Dr. Callahan smiled. She listened to my chest, moving the stethoscope around.

“Your heart sounds good. Your lungs are clear. But let me just check your ICD to make sure it’s still working properly. Were you doing anything strenuous when you experienced the dizziness?” Dr. Callahan asked, removing the stethoscope and letting my T-shirt fall back into place.

I shook my head. “Not really. I thought maybe it could be low blood sugar or something.”

Dr. Callahan nodded. “It very well could have been. But let’s just make sure it’s not something more serious.”

My phone chirped in my pocket and I pulled it out while Dr. Callahan got the paddle to check my ICD.

Want to grab a tea? Maybe I’ll go crazy and have a muffin.

I grinned at Corin’s message. Something had changed between us that day in the park. We breached some invisible barrier that had been between us.

As if Corin finally decided that she didn’t need to keep me at arm’s length. And I decided I most definitely wanted her in my life.

Her messages were usually short. Random observations. Sometimes biting critiques meant to be jokes.

She was an odd chick. But it was odd that I appreciated. She was different. A little paranoid. A bit too obsessed about my health and hers. But she was also a good listener. Picking up on things that other people didn’t. Sometimes her observations made me squirm but she was usually right on the money.

And I liked making her laugh. Because I knew, without her ever having to tell me, that it was something she didn’t do often enough.

Wish I could but I’m at an appointment. You still want to grab some dinner after the workshop tomorrow?

A big pile of gooey lasagna, just for you.

Sure, if you want me to force-feed you coffee for dessert.

You really don’t have to come you know, she responded a second later, ignoring my faux coffee threat.

I was having a hard time convincing her that I was coming to her pottery workshop for me. Because I genuinely wanted to go.

She seemed to think that I felt sorry for her. Because of the panic attacks.

Because her heart was so much like mine.

It was a role reversal for me. Typically I was the one people felt sorry for.

I’m not talking about this again. Figure out where you want to eat. No flesh of the unborn please.

Joy killer.

I chuckled under my breath and put my phone away.

Corin Thompson was becoming important to me. We connected in a way that didn’t make much sense.

Maybe we were bound by our barely functioning hearts. Maybe we were tied by our mutual experiences with death. It was intense, whatever the reason. She wasn’t someone I would have chosen to spend time with before.

She was prickly and self-conscious. She was blunt and at times rude.

But she also had a wicked sense of humor that showed itself at random times. She was obviously very passionate about her pottery studio.

We had been thrown into each other’s lives, and I was thankful for whatever put her on that sidewalk that day in the snow.

“Everything seems to be working fine, Beckett. You can put your shirt down,” Dr. Callahan instructed. She made some notes in my file and put the paddle away in a drawer.

“I don’t see any reason to be concerned, and the dizziness could very well have been a result of low blood sugar, like you suggested. But remember that it’s important if you feel light-headed again, you come to the emergency room immediately so we can see what’s going on. It could be nothing, just like this time. But as you know, it could be very serious as well.”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat.

“I will dance right over here, doc. No worries.” I winked at her and hopped down from the examining table. I covered my fear so well even I believed me.

Dr. Callahan gave me a stern look. “I’d prefer it if you found someone to drive you over instead.”

I chuckled and gave her a salute. “Yes ma’am.”

“I know you were wanting to increase your activity levels, but I think with these recent dizzy spells you should continue to not overexert yourself. We’ll discuss it again at your next appointment.” I shrugged into my coat as my doctor opened the door for me.

“I figured you’d say something like that,” I pouted, trying to cover up how disappointed I really was.

“Baby steps, Beckett,” Dr. Callahan lectured.

“I know,” I replied.

“I’ll see you at your scheduled appointment next month then,” Dr. Callahan said, following me out into the hallway.

“As much as I love our visits, I hope I won’t see you until then,” I said, smirking.

Dr. Callahan patted me on the back. “Me too, Beckett.”

After chatting up Lynn for a few minutes and eating a couple of her butterscotch crèmes, I headed for my car and got in. It was already five o’clock so I didn’t need to head back to the office. Though if truth were told, I’d have probably made an excuse not to go back. It was becoming harder and harder to get up and join the rat race every day.

“Maybe you should find something else you want to do,” my little sister Zoe had said a couple of weeks ago over dinner at our parents’ house.

She was eighteen, in her first year at the local university, and was firmly entrenched in that annoying idealistic phase full of fairy-tale dreams where a college education actually helped you land the perfect job and not just a mountain of debt.

I gave her an indulgent smile. “One day your pretty bubble will pop under the weight of jaded experience, little sis.”

Zoe hadn’t appreciated my attempts at humor. “I just think you’re selling yourself short by working a job you don’t even like.” She really meant what she said. What a delusional little girl.

“I sort of like a roof over my head and two hundred channels on my television. I won’t give up HBO for anything!” I had filled up my plate with more salad and waited for her to give me another dose of her teenage fantasies.

“That sounds pretty shallow, Beck.”

“Whoa, Zoe, tell me how you really feel,” I bit out.

“I just figured after everything you had been through that you wouldn’t be wasting your life being unhappy. Seems ridiculous to me.”

“It’s easy for you to say, Zoe. Mom and Dad still pay your car insurance and give you an allowance every month.” I had abandoned any attempt at keeping the conversation light, going for defensive instead. Mostly it was because she wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t already thought a million times myself.

Zoe had shrugged. “Whatever, it’s your life. Though I think it’s a good start that you finally dumped the materialistic bitch.”

Mom had gotten after Zoe for her language choice and I had lost my appetite.

It was weird having my little sister give me life advice. Life advice that actually made sense.

I quickly typed out a text after turning the key in the ignition.

Still up for that tea?

I waited for a reply, letting the car idle. The heat warmed up the interior, making me sort of sleepy.

Finally my phone dinged with an answering text and I smiled, feeling happier than I had been only moments before.

How about we get some fresh air instead?

I quickly typed out my response.

I’m not letting you bury me in the sandbox.