Page 34 of Unmasking You

On the left is a big comfy sofa in a deep brown colour I wish I could sit on. In front of it, a TV screen and a PS5. All things I was expecting to find in Jamie’s house.

When he stops, putting the brake on, I stand, using the chair as a support. He looks at me but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to, as his disapproving glare is enough.

“You’re staying in the guest room,” he says, and without turning back, he marches towards a door that I now believe separates the day space from the night one.

He must truly hate me. I know I remind him of the things he wants to forget.

My legs feel shaky, but I force myself to place one foot after the other—or should I say one foot after a crutch—but I’m at my physical limit, and I stumble. I don’t hit the floor, but only because Jamie is there to catch me.

How many times before, without even knowing it, was he the one keeping me standing and giving me what no one had given me before? The courage to try to break free.

“You should have taken the wheelchair, you stubborn prick,” he mumbles, but loud enough for me to hear it.

“I can manage if you give me a second.”

“No you can’t,” he snaps, his voice tense. “Just… let me help,” he says, gentler than before, while coming closer and awkwardly placing his arm around my waist.

Even through the layers of clothes, his barely there touch burns like fire and raises the guilt that fills me every time I think about us. Sometimes, I’m sure there’s more, just like when a word sits on the tip of your tongue and no matter how hard you try it never comes to you. Sometimes, I’m sure my memories are the same.

Once again, I realise how much he’s changed. The boy who used to stay silent and avoid confrontation is now ready to take everyone on, or at least me.

By the time we reach the guest room, I can no longer stand the proximity. I’m about ready to give up. I desperately want to kiss him when he accompanies me to the bed, removing the cover and helping me sit down.

He bends down and helps me remove the only shoe I have, and then very gently, mindful of my battered body, he helps me lie down, adjusting my pillow before covering me with the duvet.

I close my eyes as soon as the weight is off my leg, and I relax against the soft mattress.

“I’ll get you some water and painkillers,” he says, still fussing with the covers.

I think I nod, but I can’t be sure because my tired body is pulling me into averywelcome sleep.

“Don’t fall asleep before I’m back,” he says, his tone harsh again.

I know having me here must be challenging for him, so I open my eyes—not without difficulty, as they’re heavy with sleep and exertion. Jamie hands me the pills and then helps me sit up so I can take them. Then he helps me to lie back once more. His touch lessens the pain, even more than any pill I could ever take.

I want to ask him to stay, but I don’t want to break the peace we have going on right now.

“Call me if you need anything.” Without another word, he walks away.

“Thank you,” I say before he leaves. I wish I could ask him to stay, but even I know he would kick me out.

“I’m not doing it for you. It’s only because you saved my dog and because I lied to the police and the hospital.”

The click of the door closing sounds definitive, as if by closing it, he’s not only closing me out but shutting the door on any chance we might have had at a future.

The smell of food wakes me up and makes my stomach growl. I could cry with relief at being away from the hospital and not having to eat their food.

I move, but when my leg makes its presence known, I stop very quickly. My head reminds me of the concussion I’m still nursing. I’m still convinced it’s a small price to pay for saving Queen, and for Jamie to avoid the pain of losing her.

I try to roll onto my right side, but the pain flaring up stops me. A sound near the door grabs my attention, and there is Jamie, wearing an unreadable expression.

“Good morning,” I say to him when he doesn’t talk or come in.

“I’ll bring you some breakfast.”

He’s gone before I can say anything.

When the smell fills the room, my stomach growls again. He places the tray on the chest of drawers and comes over to help me sit up.

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