Page 130 of Tell Me What You Want, Or Leave Me

We walk in silence, and, without realizing it, I reach for Björn’s hand again. He squeezes mine, giving me strength.

When we arrive at room 507, we look at each other for a more than significant silence.

“I want to go in alone,” I say.

Björn nods.

“I’ll give you three minutes. Then I’ll come in.”

With my pulse racing, I open the door and go in. It’s silent. My heart suddenly jumps when I see Eric, his eyes closed. Is he asleep? I approach stealthily and just observe him. His face is bruised, his lip is split, and his leg is in a cast. He looks terrible. But I love him, and I don’t care what he looks like.

I need to touch him...

I want to kiss him...

But I don’t dare. I’m afraid he’ll open his eyes and kick me out.

“What are you doing here?”

His husky voice makes me jump. Oh God...his eyes.

His beautiful eyes are filled with blood, and he looks atrocious. I can’t help him, and my breathing accelerates.

“Who told you? What the hell are you doing here?”

I don’t answer. I just look at him, and he screams.

“Out! I said get out of here!”

I’m panting, and, without a word, I turn around, leave the room, and run down the hall. Björn runs after me and stops me. When he sees the state I’m in, he tries to calm me down.

I want to throw up. I tell him, and he quickly hands me a garbage can.

“Don’t go anywhere, understood?” says my friend with an unusual seriousness.

I nod. He heads to Eric’s room.

He opens the door forcefully. I hear their voices. They argue. Several nurses come in to see what’s going on, and, moments later, Björn leaves, looking annoyed and taking my arm.

“Let’s go. We’ll come back tomorrow.”

I’m cold and scared, and I let him lead.

I don’t want to leave, but I know there’s nothing for me to do out in the hall.

We sleep at a London hotel that night. I can barely catch a wink. All I can think about is my love and his loneliness in that hospital room.

The next morning, Björn comes to get me. He’s worried about my condition. I’m pale. When we get back to the hospital, my stomach churns. Eric will surely ask me to leave. This time I won’t pay any attention to him. This time he’ll have to listen to what I have to say.

When I arrive at room 507 again, I ask Björn once more for some privacy.

He shakes his head, not convinced by what I have to say, but, eventually, he gives in. With a trembling hand and tension as high as the clouds, I open the door. This time, Eric is awake, and, seeing me, his already sullen face cracks.

“Get out of here, for God’s sake.”

I go in anyway, and, having shed yesterday’s impotence, I go right up to the edge of the bed.

“At least tell me you’re OK.”

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