FORTY ONE

Ronan

I'm still glaring at Justine's message when the doctor eventually returns with my test results. It's cramped in the small hospital bed. I don't know what my thousands of dollars is paying for here, but it sure isn't luxury accommodation. Maybe if I glare long enough at the message it will disappear to be replaced with a better one.

Not that I deserve anything better.

The doctor, a tall, thin man with gray patches forming in his thick black hair, smiles. "Good morning, Mr. Kernos."

Surprised, I glance at the time. Sure enough, it has clocked over to morning.

"Good news all round. I can confirm that what you experienced this afternoon wasn't a heart attack. It also does not appear to be related to any congenital heart condition you could have inherited from your sire."

"It doesn't?"

He shakes his head. "All the tests came back normal. Your heart function is perfectly normal. The only issue I could find was your blood pressure, which is a little elevated. I've been in contact with the specialist as well, and he's confirmed my findings. You've got the all clear. You should have made an appointment weeks ago, and you could have had the same information from him."

I stare at him. "Then what the hell was that, then?"

"A panic attack."

"Don't be ridiculous." There's no way that was a simple panic attack. Bulls don't have panic attacks.

The hint of a smile plays at the corners of Dr. Andrew's face. Lucky for him, he stops himself from laughing. I'm not feeling very generous right now. "I'm afraid I'm perfectly serious, Mr. Kernos. A panic attack and too much stress. Given how many hours you reported working each week, I'm honestly not surprised. What you need, Mr. Kernos, is a holiday. And better work-life balance."

I stare at him.

I don't have a heart defect. I'm not going to die young like my father.

I won't collapse and leave my loved ones bereft.

"A panic attack? That's it? Are you sure?"

Dr. Andrews chuckles. "I'm sure. Other than that, there's nothing wrong with you. Well, apart from being a little stubborn."

"Watch it."

He holds up his hands. "The paramedics reported your antics to me. You're lucky you weren't having a heart attack. You resisted most of their help."

I wasn't that bad. I'm about to argue with him, but his pager beeps. "Excuse me. I'll be back in a few hours and we can talk about discharging you." He leaves, already reading the message.

I'm left to stew on what he said and the fact that even though I've offered Justine exactly what I thought she wanted, she still doesn't want to see me.

Now I know I'm not having a heart attack, I'm less worried about the uncomfortable ache in my chest. Doesn't mean I like the feeling, though.

I am a stubborn bastard, aren't I?

I have spent months stringing her along, knowing I couldn't offer her forever, unwilling to let her go. But now everything has changed. I've got to show her I've changed, too.

I could probably win her over with a grand romantic gesture just like I did in Paris. I don't want to do that, though. I need her decision to be real.

I'm so fucking proud of the fact she told me no.

Not many people do.

She needs to know I understand what an entitled prick I've been. She needs to see it raw, unedited. She needs to know I'm sorry.

My phone is an explosion of messages from Joseph, from my new assistant, from my mother—shit! The media somehow got wind of my collapse and the trip in the ambulance and rumors are going wild. And that's how she heard about it.

I send a hasty message to Mom and Dora, letting them know I'm alright. I'll see them just as soon as I have one thing sorted.

I call Reggie, who produces the Morning Show, hoping he and Tabitha will take pity on me and give me another chance.

"So let me get this straight, Mr. Kernos, you'd like me to cancel with Sammy Garo tomorrow morning with less than twelve hours notice, when it took me months to get her agent to agree to her being on the show?"

My ear flicks in annoyance. "You heard me. Or blow off your garden doctor segment, or cooking with Chad or whatever his name is."

Reggie splutters. "Cooking with Clemont is our most popular segment! And I've got thirty emails sitting in my inbox from people who want the garden doctor to tell them what's wrong with their roses this year."

I draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly. I'm not going to shout at him. I'm going to be nice because that's what Justine would want. I'm also under strict doctor's orders not to raise my blood pressure or put myself under undue stress until the new medication kicks in.

"Listen, Reggie, I know I'm a pain in your ass. I know I'm probably the most difficult boss in Heartstone. But this is my mate we're talking about, and I'm pretty sure I already broke her heart. I'd like very much to give her the apology she deserves."

"Ah, it's like that, then." After a moment of silence, Reggie lets out a long sigh. "I'm not standing in the way of that. Only, I'd just like it noted in writing somewhere that this was not my idea. You're not going to like the way Tabitha handles this."

I chuckle. "No, I'm sure I won't. That's the point. She's one of the only people I think I can trust to tell it to me like it is. To tell it to everyone."

"Oh, don't worry about that, sir. She's got that covered. I've worked with her for five years, and I've never known her not to go for the throat. Her wolf, you know."

"I'm counting on it," I tell him.