Page 72 of Doctor Neighbor

Cole

8:43 pm

How could I have made love to Buster at a time like this? With Maddie in the hospital fighting for her life, it seems almost sacrilegious. And yet, I needed it. I needed to feel something other than fear and helplessness. I needed to connect with another human being, a specific other human being, in the most primal way possible.

The hunger I felt wasn't just physical. It was a desperate need to feel alive, to remind myself that even in the darkest moments, there's still light and warmth in the world. Buster gave me that without judgment or hesitation.

I take a deep breath, my eyes meeting his. "I... I'm sorry," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "It might have been inappropriate with everything that's happening. But I couldn't help it. It was like my body was acting without my mind's permission."

Buster reaches out, gently brushing a strand of wet hair from my face. His touch sends a shiver through me. "Cole," he says softly, "you don't have to justify anything. Not to me."

His words wash over me, a balm to my guilt-ridden soul. I lean into his hand, closing my eyes for a moment. When I open them again, I see understanding in his gaze, mixed with something that looks a lot like love.

"Thank you," I murmur, not just for his words but for everything he's been to me these past few days: my rock, my comfort, my lifeline in a storm of uncertainty.

I lie here on the living room floor with Buster, our bodies intertwined, skin still damp from our passionate encounter. The weight of everything—Maddie’s illness, the revelation about her possible paternity—presses down on me. I take a deep breath, knowing I need to explain.

"Buster," I start, my voice barely above a whisper. "I... I need to tell you when I first started wondering if Maddie might be yours."

He stays silent, his hand gently stroking my arm. I'm grateful for his touch, which reassures me even in my deceit.

"It wasn't until that day at the theme park," I continue. "When I saw you there, after... after what happened. It knocked the wind out of me. Not just because of the horror we'd witnessed, but because looking into your eyes... I just knew. Something inside of me knew."

The silence is deafening. I continue. I need to get it all out.

I hold my breath, waiting for Buster's response. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions.

Finally, Buster shifts, propping himself on one elbow to look at me. His eyes, usually warm and playful, are stormy with what looks like a sea of conflicting emotions.

"Cole," he starts, his voice rough. "I... I don't even know where to begin."

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every movement. "Four years. Four years of her life that I've missed. That's... that's not something I can ever get back."

The pain in his voice cuts through me like a knife. I reach out to touch his arm, but he pulls away slightly.

"I'm angry," he admits, his jaw clenching. "I'm hurt that you didn't tell me sooner. Even if you weren't sure, I had a right to know there was a possibility."

Tears spring to my eyes again, but I force myself to meet his gaze. A single tear escapes the corner of my eye and trails down my cheek to my ear. He deserves my full attention and my honesty.

"But," he continues, his voice softening slightly, "I also understand why you didn't. Our history... it's complicated. And I'm not blameless in that."

He takes a deep breath, and I can see him struggling to put his feelings into words. "I care about you, Cole. And I care about Maddie. The idea of being her father... it's overwhelming, but it's not unwelcome. It's just... a lot to process."

"I completely understand what you're saying. I honestly don't even know what to do with the information. The possibility. Clearly."

"This changes everything, you know? I wasn't sure what we were doing before. We both agreed to keep it friends, but we've been pretty shitty at that. Friends with benefits, perhaps."

Friends. Are we friends? Are we more than friends? If he were Maddie’s father, would that ruin any chance of exploring what we could be?

I want to ask him how it changes everything, but I don’t feel I have the right to. Since I am the one who didn’t share my hunch sooner, I kept it to myself, scared of what it could mean.

"I guess my biggest question, at least at this point, is, would you have ever told me? Would you have explored it to find out the answer? I think that is the part that bothers me the most. What if Madeline hadn't gotten sick? Would I still be none the wiser?"

It's a legitimate question. I hadn't made any plans to tell him specifically, but I knew I would have to at some point, especially if things continued to progress. But how or when I don't know.

"I like to believe I would have eventually told you, yes. But to be completely honest, I was scared. I didn't have a plan. I didn't know how to deal with it, so I put it on a shelf in my mind, hoping somehow the truth would reveal itself. I guess it has… Or, will shortly."

Buster reaches out, cupping my face in the palm of his hand. His gentle touch starkly contrasts the turmoil I see in his eyes and the tension in the room.

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