The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air as Miles sat on the exam table while his fingers clenched the edges.

The rhythmic beep of a nearby monitor seemed louder than usual. He hadn’t expected to be in a doctor’s office discussing heart irregularities.

The physician’s words echoed in his mind: “It’s likely nothing serious, but we’ve noticed some irregular rhythms. You’ll need to wear a Holter monitor for the next 24 to 48 hours so we can get a better picture.”

His heart thudded, not from the condition, but from the creeping anxiety crawling beneath his skin. {{user}} sat nearby, watching him with a calmness that tried to mask concern.

Back home, the late afternoon light filtered through the blinds, casting soft shadows across the bedroom. Miles sat shirtless on the edge of the bed while the Holter monitor rested beside him.

His skin felt oddly vulnerable under the open air and the slight coolness in the room sent a shiver through him.

{{user}} knelt beside him with gentle hands, peeling back the protective covers of the electrodes. Each pad was carefully placed: one above his heart, another below his ribs, and a third on his side.

The wires were tucked in neatly, the monitor clipped in place before Miles let out a slow breath. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. This is a bit scary."