“Miguel, what signs? I don’t have a concussion—”

“Yes, you do. And a serious one, which I knew when I first met you. But you seemed to have recovered when I saw you again—except, you didn’t know the Hive always opened late, and you were so agitated and confused on set that day I came to watch with Jacintha, which is not at all like the Charlie Goodwin I’m familiar with.”

Her heart sank at this and she broke eye contact. “Maybe you should just go,” she said.

“Have you had any other symptoms?” He seemed anguished now, but she knew it wasn’t because of his feelings for her and instead because the tangled web she had been weaving was threatening to strangle them both. “Headaches, blurred vision? You know, you probably shouldn’t even be driving. You definitely should not be working, which I told you the day I treated you, especially not if you’re having memory lapses like the one you had tonight.”

“It wasn’t a memory lapse. I told you—”

“Yes, you told me, and I don’t believe you. I think you’re hiding the severity of your symptoms from me, and maybe I shouldn’t blame you. I’ve put way too much on your plate. A new relationship on top of everything else?” He shook his head again. “That was selfish and unprofessional of me, and I’m sorry.”

This was her out, Cass realized. She could just say he was right, and that he should go, and that she would get reevaluated by someone else so there would be no more blurring of personal and professional lines, and thank him for his time, and then close the door. Instead, her eyes filled with tears.

“You need to get evaluated again, Charlie. Maybe even get a CT scan. Explain to your work that you need to take some time off, and if they don’t give it to you, or they really do give Austin that spot on the new show because of an injury you sustained on set you need to . . . I don’t know, sue them or something. But you can’t keep taking risks like this with your health, because of what you want professionally or for . . . personal reasons. This is serious, and you don’t seem to understand that.”

“I do understand.”

“So, let’s go back to the hospital. I’ll take you right now.”

Cass looked up at him. She tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone completely dry. She hated this kind of thing—that she was going to hurt his feelings, and that there was going to be conflict. But she saw no other way around it, as her wise friend Faye back home had once reminded her during a discussion about her relationship with Brett: The only way out is through.

She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “You should just go. Please. I will get myself to the hospital, I promise. But I think it will have to be somewhere other than Cedars-Sinai. You’re right, we crossed some lines here. And it’s time for us to stop.” She was surprised by how much she now sounded like her sister when she was on television, her voice smooth and calm. She could hardly stand the hurt expression on Miguel’s face but forced herself to stand her ground. It was best for both of them. She was fresh out of a ten-year relationship with Brett. She was going back to Starlight Peak in just a few days. It was too complicated to even dream that she could somehow tell him the truth and salvage their fledgling romance.