Page 64 of Tameron

I should be sleeping too. God knows I was tired enough, both physically and mentally. My body was wrung out from a day of working on the truck at Dax’s shop and then from sex with Dayton. But my brain refused to shut up.

The nightmares didn’t help—vivid flashbacks of the explosion, the ringing in my ears that never quite went away, the screams of my teammates. Sometimes in my dreams, not everyone made it out. Those were the worst ones, where I’d wake up gasping, drenched in sweat, convinced I’d failed them. Even when I managed to fall asleep, I rarely stayed that way for long.

But my sleeping issues had gotten worse lately, and I knew why. Everything was changing, and I had no control over any of it.

My hearing was deteriorating further. The latest audiogram had confirmed what I’d already suspected: the hearing loss in my left ear was progressing faster than my right, creating an increasingly disorienting imbalance. Even with my hearing aids adjusted to compensate, sounds felt distorted and lopsided.

My ENT had warned me this might happen, but experiencing it was something else entirely. The constant vertigo spells were a lovely bonus, reminding me that this wasn’t just about losing sound. It was about losing my equilibrium, my independence, my sense of normalcy.

Then there was the news about Bean and Creek moving out soon. Every time Bean talked about the wedding, his face lit up like a beacon. Fucking impossible to resent him when he was so goddamn happy. The man had walked through hell and had come out the other side in love and stable. It was nothing short of a miracle.

And Creek was pretty much the same. If you’d told me a year ago the man had the capacity to look goofy and in love, I would’ve laughed you out of the room. He’d been grumpy personified. Yet here we were, and he was smiling more than a beauty queen at a pageant.

Plus, Nash was getting busier with work, and more importantly, he was building a life for himself. He had a job he loved, and it would only be a matter of time before he met someone and fell in love too.

And then there was Dayton. I turned my head to look at him, fast asleep next to me. He hadn’t moved since he’d fallen asleep, his face turned toward me, his features relaxed. He looked peaceful. Beautiful. That was a word I never thought I’d use for a man, but hewasbeautiful, inside and out. And whathad started as casual exploring had turned into something much more complex, and I had no idea how to handle that.

Was I really bisexual? Or was I projecting because Dayton was the only one who seemed to understand me, who still had time for me, who listened to me and really heard me, saw me?

No, that wasn’t it. My attraction to Dayton was real, and I’d noticed other men as well. So yeah, I was bi. But what did that mean for me? For us? For this thing between us that was supposed to be casual but felt anything but?

Because I was falling for him. Hard.

I couldn’t deal with a relationship on top of everything else. I was drowning in my own life, in my struggles. Where did I fit in? What was my place? I had no job, no purpose, no direction. I had no idea where I belonged. Not in the hearing world anymore, but not in the Deaf world either. I was stuck in between, and it was getting harder and harder to stay afloat.

Three a.m. Time had crawled by at a snail’s pace, and I was no closer to sleep than I had been an hour ago. Every time I closed my eyes, my thoughts spun faster, like a hamster wheel picking up speed.

I couldn’t stay here. The walls were closing in on me, and Dayton’s steady breathing was both soothing and suffocating. I needed air. Space. Room to breathe.

As quietly as I could, I slipped out of bed and got dressed. Dayton didn’t stir, not even when I accidentally bumped into his dresser. He slept like the dead when he was off shift. At least I didn’t have to worry about waking him.

In the kitchen, I found a notepad and pen and scribbled a quick note:

Had to clear my head. Thanks for everything.

-T

Brief. Impersonal. But what else could I say? “Sorry I’m such a mess” didn’t quite cut it. Neither did “I think I’m falling for you, and it terrifies me.”

The night air hit me like a slap in the face as I stepped outside. Good. The wet embrace of a drizzle helped clear my head a little. I got into my car and just…drove. No destination in mind, no purpose other than movement. Being still meant thinking, and thinking hurt too much right now.

I couldn’t go home. Nash would hear me come in—the man had the hearing of a bat, I swear—and then he’d want to talk. He meant well, but I couldn’t handle his concern right now. Couldn’t deal with those knowing eyes that saw right through me.

So I drove. Past closed storefronts and empty streets. Past late-night diners with their neon signs casting an otherworldly glow. Past couples stumbling home from bars, arms wrapped around each other. God, I missed that feeling of being young, carefree, and happy.

I ended up at a viewpoint overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge. The sight never got old, no matter how many times I saw it. Tonight, the bridge was lit up against the dark sky, its reflection shimmering on the water below.

I parked the car and killed the engine. Without the rumble of the motor, the silence was absolute. I debated putting my hearing aids in but decided against it. The silence matched my mood.

I’d never felt so utterly alone in my life. It was like drowning, watching everyone else swim to shore while I struggled to keep my head above water. Bean and Creek had found their lifeboats in Jarek and Heath. Nash was building his own raft, piece by piece. And here I was, barely treading water.

My phone lit up, Dayton’s name flashing on the screen as he FaceTimed me. Shit. He must’ve woken up. I hesitated, then answered it.

“Hey. Gimme a second to put my hearing aids in.” He waited as I connected them, then breathed through the dizzy spell. “Okay.”

“Are you okay?” His voice was rough with sleep, but it held an edge of worry.

“Yeah. Sorry I left like that.”

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