Breaking his heart like that wasn’t the most awful thing I’ve been through in my life—losing Casey takes that cake—but it was damn close. I just hope that one day, when all of this is over and he learns the truth about what was going on with me, he’ll understand why I did it.

It’s one of the few pieces of hope I have left to hold on to.

Because Declan is gone from my life now, and I know without a doubt after the way I told him in no uncertain terms that I couldn’t be with him anymore that he won’t try to come back. Because I hurt him with what I said, I know I did, but I didn’t have another choice. It sounds terrible, but I really was trying to protect him.

The tube beeps again while I’m lost in thought, pulling me out of my mental spiral. The whirring is slowing down and getting quieter, and Melissa appears off to my right, smiling. I can only assume that means the MRI is over already, but it seems way faster than I thought it would be. She presses a button on the control panel, and I want to ask her if we’re really done already, but I also don’t want to move, so I wait.

“All done. See? It wasn’t too bad,” she says as my slab starts sliding back out of the tube.

“That’s it?” I ask, still unsure. She chuckles at me and offers me a hand to help me sit up.

“Yes, that’s it. You’re free to get dressed and go.”

She waits patiently as I get to my feet and stretch, keeping close in case I get dizzy or unsteady on my feet or something, I suppose.

“Okay, thanks. When should I expect to hear about the results?” I ask as I reach for my clothes sitting on the nearby counter.

“One of the techs or the doctor will follow up with you in the next few days once they’ve reviewed the results and written their report.”

“So I just have to wait?” I ask, unable to hide the anxiety in my voice. “What am I supposed to do until then?”

Melissa’s expression softens. “I know waiting is the hardest part. Try to keep your routine as normal as possible—it helps.”

With that, she slips out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The silence feels oppressive after the constant noise of the machine.

I lean against the wall for a moment, suddenly exhausted. This limbo is almost worse than knowing. I feel like I’m locked in a place where time has no meaning, trapped in a suspended animation between normal life and potential catastrophe. And knowing it’s going to be another several days before I have an answer isn’t doing anything to ease my anxiety.