Page 136 of What You Wish For

What if I had a seizure, and he was horrified? Disgusted? Creeped out?

He felt things. He’d said so. He’d kissed me like he meant it—again and again.

But what if I had a seizure—and that killed it for him?

I’d never once dated a person who had seen me go through something like that. Besides my mom, and later my aunt, and a few health-care professionals, everybody who had ever witnessed me have a seizure had decided irrevocably to avoid me.

I’m mostly talking about grade-schoolers here, but the point still stands. How could Duncan be any different?

But Duncan was still focused. “I wish you’d give me a chance to prove you wrong.”

“But what if you don’t prove me wrong? What if you just confirm my worst fears—again?”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

“But didn’t you just yell at me in the ocean and tell me not to live my life in fear? Didn’t you just literally hurl yourself into a black ocean?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

The aura was intensifying. The nausea was coming back stronger. “Because,” I said, standing up to move him toward the door, “this is scarier than that.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

I shook my head. “I can’t be brave about this.”

“Yes, you can.”

The nausea was intensifying. I was running out of time. I stood up and led him toward the door. “Anything in the world—except this.”

“Sam—”

“You need to go now,” I said.

“Let me stay,” he said. “You don’t have to be alone.”

Would I have liked to let him stay?

Would I have liked him to take care of me?

Of course.

But I’d rather be alone forever than let him see me that way. I could bear loneliness. I could bear disappointment. But the one thing I absolutely could not bear was Duncan changing his mind.

I hated that he was arguing with me. I hated that he was still here.

I hated that he was right.

I pushed him toward the door with a rising feeling like I didn’t have much time.

He had to leave. He had to go.

But then, before he could—the world disappeared.

twenty-five

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