The Summer Proposal by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

“Can we talk?”

“Is he okay? Is Max okay?”

Tate frowned. He glanced over at the receptionist, who was staring at us. “Do you have an office or somewhere we can speak in private?”

My response was delayed, but eventually I nodded. It took every ounce of focus I had to put one foot in front of the other and lead him to my office. Once we were inside, he shut the door behind us, and I immediately turned around.

“Is Max okay?”

“Can we sit, please?”

I shook my head. “You’re freaking me out, Tate. Is Max okay?”

He blew out a jagged breath and shook his head. “He’s in surgery right now. But things don’t look so great.”

The room started to spin and I thought I might pass out. Tate had been right. I needed to sit. With my hand clutching my stomach, I grabbed one of the guest chairs in front of my desk. “What happened?”

“He had an aneurysm. It ruptured.”

I covered my mouth. “Oh my God. An aneurysm like Austin. And your dad.”

Tate nodded and took the seat across from me. “Yeah. Aneurysms can run in families. After we found out Austin had an abdominal aortic aneurysm, our doctor suggested we all get scans. Max was the only other one of us who had one.”

“When you found out Austin had one, you all got scans? So Max has known about his for ten years?”

Tate nodded.

“His is in his brain. It’s in an area that controls motor skills, so if he removed it, there was a chance he could suffer some damage…and not play hockey again.” Tate shook his head. “The screwed-up thing is, he’d avoided going to a doctor or getting a scan for the last decade. Then a month ago, he finally decided to go for a new scan. Last week he set an appointment to have the surgery. He was going to have it removed on Tuesday. But it ruptured while he was playing last night. He’d been getting headaches the last few days, but he chalked them up to stressing over the surgery. Turns out, it was leaking, and the headaches were warnings.”

“Can they fix it with the surgery?”

“They’re trying. The first twenty-four hours are the most critical. The doctors said since it ruptured, the chance of him not making it through this is forty percent, and if he does, there’s a sixty-five percent chance he’ll have some damage—that could range from impaired motor skills to…worse.”

I stood. “Are you going there? I want to go.”

“I actually took the redeye this morning to come talk to you. But I’m going right back to the airport after this.”

“You came all this way just to tell me?”

Tate nodded. “I made a promise to my brother when he decided to have the surgery—that I’d come tell you in person if things didn’t go well. You’re the reason he decided to have the surgery at all.”

“Me? But we’re not together anymore.”

“I know. Having the surgery meant potentially losing something he loved—playing hockey. Every time he skated onto the ice, his blood pressure rose, and it increased the risk of rupture. He didn’t want to drag you into something that had so much unknown. But then he found something he loved more than hockey—you. And he was willing to take the risk so he wouldn’t lose you.”

Tears slid down my cheeks. “We need to go. I want to be there when he gets out of surgery.”

Tate nodded.

On our way to the airport, my admin found us the next flight we could get and booked us tickets, even though it was going to be tight. Once we cleared security, we ran through the airport, trying to make it before the doors closed. I don’t think either of us breathed until we were on the plane. Since we’d booked last minute, Tate and I weren’t seated together. I was about ten rows behind him, but the alone time allowed me a chance to try to absorb everything he’d said.

How had I not put the clues together? I’d found an appointment card for a neurologist when we were out in California, for God’s sake. And Max never could give me a reason he didn’t want to try to make things work. It all made sense now; he didn’t want to hurt me if he was going to continue playing hockey and put himself at risk. I should’ve realized he was trying to protect me. The man was headstrong and stubborn, but also noble and beautiful. I couldn’t wait to tell him I loved him almost as much as I couldn’t wait to yell at him for what he’d done.

I just hoped I got the chance to do both.



• • •



Max’s mother’s face stopped me in my tracks as we entered the ICU.

“Georgia?” Tate only noticed I wasn’t next to him anymore, not that his mother stood outside a closed curtain looking pale as a ghost. “What’s the matter?”

I shook my head rapidly, but couldn’t form words.

He took my hand. “It’s okay. He made it through. We have to do this one step at a time.”

Tate traced my line of sight, and his face fell when he saw his mother. “Shit.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Give me a minute.”

I waited in the middle of the ICU while Tate walked over to his mother. The minute she saw him, she threw her arms around his shoulders and started sobbing.

Silent tears rolled down my face. He can’t… He just can’t.

Tate pulled back from the embrace and spoke to her. He looked over at me once as his mother wiped her eyes, and he held up one finger before slipping behind the curtain. When he came back out, he looked as pale as his mother. I watched him swallow before he walked back over. I don’t think I moved a single muscle as I waited.