Page 33 of My Heart to Find

“Look, we can work something out,” he says, pleadingly. “It’s all about compromise. And I know you love sex really. It’s just a phase you’re going through, pretending to be....”Ace, he mouths the word.

“A phase?” I stare at him. “Really? Is that what you’re going with?”

“Jana, please. Is it just because of that time when—”

“It’s because I’m asexual and you’re not respectful at all of my sexuality.” I glare at him, then realize quite a few shoppers are staring at us, apparently enjoying the show as much as River is. “We’re not getting back together,” I say. “End of.”

Max’s eyes darken.

I exhale loudly, daring him to say another word. He doesn’t.

River watches him leave, a second clementine in her hand. “Girl, he’s not gonna give up easy, you know.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Cara

“OH, CARA,” RAYMONDthe Reassurer says.

“It’s fine. It’s fine.” I try to keep the emotion out of my voice, but he’s my friend and I know it’s futile hiding from him how upset I really am that Jana’s going on another date with Damien. My Damien—except he’s not mine. I know that. He’s not interested in me—not like that anyway. And I probably made him think that I only wanted to be friends. It’s my fault.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Raymond asks.

I shake my head. “Definitely not.” I take a deep breath. My eyes blur for a second, my vision separating into two different fields, left eye and right eye. Double vision. I blink, feel nausea working its way upward. I swallow quickly and flex my fingers, make fists. Concentrate on my hands. “How’d your appointment go?” My voice is wobbly.

“Not as good as I was expecting,” he says. “It’s hard being chronically ill and a guy.”

“It’s hard being chronically ill, full stop,” I say.

He pulls another face. “Yeah, but ... I don’t know. Like I know women aren’t often believed and men get taken more seriously, like if you’ve got to go to the emergency room and stuff. But this new doc today, she was just telling me toman up.”

“Seriously?” I lean forward. Pain shoots down my spine.

Raymond nods, frustration clear in the lines on his forehead. “And I guess when most chronic illness patients are female, it does make me stand out a bit... even though Lyme affects both genders equally. But it’s like docs just have this assumption that women aremorechronically ill? That it’s like a female space? I don’t know how to explain it. I mean, it’s not the first time a doc’s had that attitude toward me. Doesn’t hurt any less though. And I mean looking at me, a big Black guy, you wouldn’t expect me to be feeling sick and weak, right?”

“I’m sorry you’ve had that experience,” I say. “It really sucks.”

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