When Fernando opened his eyes at the hospital, the first thing he saw was my totally blank face.
He glanced down and spotted the IV line taped to the back of his hand.
My voice was tight with held-back anger. "Fernando, how old are you? You didn't notice you had a 104-degree fever?"
The fever had left a faint pink flush at the corners of his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I made you wait forever and ruined our dinner."
I got even madder. "You couldn't have shot me a text? Do you just not care about your own..."
"It was the first time you ever asked me out to dinner," he said, looking up at me with those sad, wide eyes. "I didn't wanna stand you up."
That one line snuffed out all my anger instantly.
I sighed, defeated. "You're impossible."
I couldn't bring myself to yell at him anymo
