Page 95 of Not Catching Love

It still hurts. It’s still horrible and depressing, and I’m not sure that I’ll survive it.

But I’m not dying. At least not yet.

So I do the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I swallow deeply, force the negative thoughts back, and when Derek reaches forward to cup my face in the way I love so much, the way that makes me feel so small and fragile compared to him, I meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m not handling this very well.”

“No, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” His cheeks are wet with tears, and it’s such a weird thing to see someone as relaxed and put together as Derek cry. “I want to make the right choices, and I don’t know what that is.”

“Staying with me.”

I see it right then. The way his eyes dim.

“You don’t want to.”

“It’s not that.” He strokes my cheek, and I’m so glad he’stouching me. “I want to be with you more than anything, and at the rate we’re going, it’ll mean risking my license. Walking away from nursing and helping people. Every single day with you is a struggle because I want to be able to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I want to give you everything, Xander. Everything. But I can’t right now, and it’s fucking killing me.”

“You’re not happy?”

“Not because of you. With you, I’m the happiest I can ever be. I wasn’t lying about us having a future, but if our relationship gets out, if I’m reported by someone?—”

“Who’d report you?”

Susan from the pharmacy immediately comes to mind. “If any other medical professional got wind of this, they’dhaveto report it. Like it or not. And if we keep going the way we’re going, someone at workwillfind out. I’m not a very good liar.”

“So … so what does this mean?”

His hands find mine again. “The trip is a four-month placement. It’s … well, full honesty, it’ll be fucked to be away from you for that long, but at least if I’m physically in another country, then it’s buying us some time. It’ll be a year and a half by the time I get back, and …”

And we’ll only have to hide for another six months. Roughly. I’m trying really fucking hard not to freak out. “What if you decide that I’m not worth it?”

“If I decide that, I’ll decide that, whether I’m here or not. That’s your anxiety asking that question, not you. Can you honestly tell me that I’ve done anything in the last six months to make you think that I’m fucking around? Do you really think I’d be risking my job for something that didn’t mean so much?”

Knowing Derek, I know he wouldn’t. “Four months is a really long time.”

“Don’t I know it?” He plays with my index finger. “I’m sotorn. If I stay and we’re found out, that’s going to be a lot of stress added to our relationship. If I leave … I need to know you’ll be okay. I can’t go if it’s going to mess with you. If you’re going to doubt how I feel at all.”

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? If we’re together, Derek is always going to consider how I feel. What I need. Maybe, this once, maybe I need to do the same for him. Even if it means hiding how much it hurts, even if my brain is going to tell me for four whole months that he’s never coming back, even if I wake up in a cold sweat every night, convinced he’s dead, I can’t stop him from going.

Because he’d never stop me.

“I don’t think I’m capable of not doubting it. Or of being okay. But …” I’m worried for a second that the words won’t happen. “I want you to go.”

“Xander …”

“I’m not selfless very often, so you need to take it.”

He still doesn’t look convinced, and I think it’s that indecision more than anything that makes me certain.

“You’re going,” I say, expecting it to kill me. It doesn’t. “I’m going to text you every day until you’re back. I’m going to be thinking about you always. And when you’re back, we’ll be that much closer to being together.” My voice shakes. “I don’t know if you know this, but I sort of have abandonment issues. Just a tiny bit.” I swallow roughly. “I’m always so convinced that people are going to leave me. Maybe it’s time I trusted someone to come back.”

When Derek’s mouth comes down on mine, it’s sweet fucking torture. It feels like we kiss forever, but we both need the connection. The promise.

When I can’t take it anymore, I pull back, forehead rested against his. “I have one request though,” I say, breathless.

“Anything.”

“Can … when you get back … can we have sex? It’s going to be hard to deal with you leaving me, but that might help me get through.”

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