Suddenly, I hear a muffled groan. My heart nearly stops. Grabbing the bandages I put on the kitchen counter last night, I rush toward the bedroom and throw open the door. “What’s wrong?”

Alex is trying to get to his feet, one arm in the sling and the other holding his stomach.

“Are you crazy?!” I hurry over and force him to sit back down on the bed. “What are you thinking?”

“Bathroom,” Alex grunts.

I press my lips together into a thin line. “You should’ve called for me. Do ...