one of those things that happens. I mean, yeah, some kids get migraines, but I don’t know anyone whose kids get them as often or as bad as Dallas does.”
“But the doctor won’t look into it?”
“Not with much enthusiasm, no. She referred her to a neurologist, but he barely took Dallas seriously at all. The guy was such an asshole to Dallas and her mom that when they came back for her follow-up, Dallas ironically ended up with a migraine afterward because of the stress.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. We never got anywhere with that doctor because he acted like she was just exaggerating. No one her age could handle migraines that severe, that often.” He laughed bitterly. “Like she has a choice, you know?”
“You can’t get a second opinion?”
“Not with my health insurance,” Devin grumbled.
“That’s the hold-up? Insurance?”
He nodded slowly.
Somehow it was both surprising and…not. It had been a long time since I’d had to worry about an HMO dictating who I could and couldn’t see, or whether I could afford to see a specialist or have a test done, but I remembered.
“I get it,” I whispered. “My dad’s insurance wasn’t great, and my mom tore her hair out for years about not being able to take us to the doctor for things.”
Devin met my gaze. “Really?”
“Oh yeah.” I laughed dryly. “I’ve got good coverage through the league, but I wasn’t always a pro hockey player.”
“True. True, I guess you weren’t.” He rubbed his temples and sighed. “This is, um… This is part of life with me and Dallas. It’s our reality. Unless someone comes up with some miracle treatment, it’s going to be this way as long as she lives at home, and God knows if or when she’ll be able to move out when she’s old enough to work.” He lifted his head and turned to me, looking a hundred times more exhausted than he had earlier. “If this is all too much for you, I’ll understand.”
“Too—” I blinked. “What? No!” I put my hand over his. “It sucks that she’s that miserable, and it’s obviously hard for you and her mom, but it’s not going to scare me away.”
He studied me like he wasn’t sure if he believed me.
“Come on.” I squeezed his hand. “I’ve known about her migraines since day one, and I’m still here.”
“Okay, but this is the first time you’ve had a front row seat.”
“She’s the miserable one. I’m just glad I could help.”
That brought a faint smile to his lips, and he leaned in for a soft kiss. “Thank you again, by the way. There’s only so much any of us can do, but every little bit helps. I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it. And I wish I could stick around in case there’s more I can do, but…” I checked my phone and frowned. “I need to head to the arena soon.”
“Oh, shit.” Devin glanced at his own phone. “I totally forgot you had a game. I…” He looked back at the hallway, then at me. “How soon do you need to go?”
“In the next half hour or so, I think.”
He looked toward the hallway, brow furrowed, and I swore I could hear his thoughts.
“Stay here.” I touched his knee. “Don’t make her move while she’s not feeling well.”
Devin turned to me. “Are you serious? You… You don’t mind us staying here while you’re at the game?”
“Of course not. I’m not going to ask you to wake her up and put her in the car now.” I gestured toward the bedroom. “Stay as long as she needs to.”
His whole body seemed to relax all at once. “Thank you.” He cupped my cheek and met my eyes in the dim light. “For everything you’ve done for us today.”
“You’re welcome.” I kissed him softly, and we let it go on for a moment. As we pulled apart, I whispered, “Do you want me to bring anything when I come back? Food, or…?”
Releasing me, Devin shook his head. “Nah. I’ll order something for delivery if I can find something that won’t bother her. And, shit, I still need to let Haley know what’s going on.”
“Okay. Well, if you think of anything, shoot me a text. I’ll probably be back around eleven or so.”
As predicted, it was almost eleven when I let myself in. The living room was still lit only by the lamp on the end table, and Devin sat on the couch with Dallas lying beside him, her head on his lap as he stroked her hair.