Page 60 of The Last Sunrise

As I come to, I’m shivering and in Julián arms. His face is covered in worry, confusion, and I realize half of the trembling of my body is from his. His hair and clothes are drenched as he slowly rocks my body, pushing my soaked hair off my forehead.

“Don’t call the hospital,” I choke out, coughing up a good amount of salt water from the pool. “Please.”

“Oriah.” My mother’s voice makes my body tense.

“Hem de trucar a un metge?” Julián’s attention doesn’t leave me, but I know he’s speaking to my mom.

She looks at me, then him. “No, no si ella no ho vol. Però ha d’anar a la seva habitació i ficar-se al llit.”

“Let’s get you to your room.” Julián lifts me up from our place on the cement, and water pours off our bodies, pooling at his feet.

“Can you go the back way so my—” my mom begins, but stops herself at Julián’s death glare.

“I will go the way that’s easiest for Ry. I don’t give a shit about your party,” he tells her, but takes me the back way, making sure no one sees me.

Not for her sake, but for mine. I’m dripping wet, and my dress feels heavy against my body, even though I’m being carried. Theway back to my room feels like the longest stretch of silence I’ve ever experienced.

Julián scans my room key from my handbag and carries me into the room, passing the entryway, the living space, and heads straight to the bathroom. The intensity of his stare makes me uneasy as he gently places me on the cushioned mat on the floor. His fingers unzip my dress and remove the clasp of my necklace, dropping it to the floor. He struggles but manages to take my earrings off, putting my jewelry in a neat pile on the tile.

“Are you able to stand?” he finally asks me.

I nod. He turns on the bath faucets and blasts the water, gauging the temperature with his fingers. Gently grabbing on to my hands, he pulls me up, holding me with one arm behind my back to keep me steady.

With ease, he lifts me up again and places me into the bathtub, a few inches deep of water. The hot water gives a rush of relief, nearly instantly stopping my shivering. I lay my head back and close my eyes, but the burn of Julián’s on me doesn’t lighten. He’s probably so angry, so confused…

It would be easier to keep my eyes shut, to tell him it’s okay if he runs away now that he saw firsthand that I’m a ticking time bomb. Too much to handle, too much of a risk and hassle to be with.

“I’m sorry, Julián.” I blink my eyes open and muster the courage to face him. His back is against the wall closest to the tub, his hands clasped together, white-knuckled.

“Sorry for what? What on god’s earth could you possibly be sorry for?” His voice is full of exhaustion.

“Aren’t you upset with me?” I meekly ask.

He sits up, his back no longer touching the wall.

“Upset with you? I’m damn terrified for you, I thought you were dying, Ry. I saw you… spasming and then falling into the pool. I’m fucking scared for your life, not upset with you.”

“I’m sorry, Julián,” I whisper, the water still rushing from the faucet.

“Do not say sorry again, please. I don’t need an apology; I need an explanation. Even just a little bit so I know what the hell just happened.”

“I should have told you.”

“Then tell me now.”

Where to begin? From birth… from now… I don’t want to overwhelm him, but he deserves an explanation of some sort.

“The fast version is… I was born with a genetic condition; it’s called tuberous sclerosis. There are many, many different versions of my condition, varying from nonverbal, severe autism; blindness…”

His lips are purple, and not from the cold. “For me, the part of the condition that affects me the most is epilepsy. I have these things called tubers, not to be confused with tumors, that I was born with in my heart and brain. I developed them in my kidneys over time also, but my brain is the reason you saw what you saw.”

His voice is barely a whisper. “Is there a treatment?”

I shake my head. “Yes and no. There are medications to control the seizures, but they’ve only worked on and off for me. So I gave up taking them when I arrived here, because a few of the tubers shifted recently.”

He’s as still as a statue as I wait for him to jump up and run far, far away from me and my health burden. “How often has this been happening?”

“Over my lifespan, but… this was the second one today.”

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