Page 41 of The Lies Always Told

“Trouble…” he groans against my mouth. I kiss his lower lip, pulling it between mine and biting gently. “Your body needs to rest, and we need to talk…for real this time.”

“I took a bath, and I’m not sore anymore.” A lie. I’m sore as shit, but he smells so good and his skin is so soft, I can’t help myself.

“It kills me to do this, but I’m putting your greedy hands in time out. Come on.” He kisses my forehead and holds my hand, drawing small circles on my wrist.

“Not fair,” I pout, and he cocks an eyebrow at me.

“So greedy.”

“And you like it.” The smile he gives reassures me he does, but then he takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly…and the honeymoon is over. “It’s time, huh?”

“For us to talk more, yes, but before that, I want to show you something.” He guides me to his bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed, right on the side he slept last night, and pulls me to his lap. He pulls open the first drawer of the night stand and pulls out a bag. “Open it,” he commands. I look at him,unsure of what this is, but he nudges at me to do it. His soft smile is hiding a little bit of fear, but it’s reassuring too. He’s letting me in. He’s letting me see.

I slide the zipper open and find a few orange bottles, all with different names. I hold the first one in hand, a big bottle with big blue pills in it. “For my high blood pressure. It’s controlled, and for the most part, it’s nothing for you to worry about,” he says before I even ask.

I place the bottle on top of the table and grab another one. This one is smaller, with white pills inside. “That one is a diuretic. I retain liquid, so I need help so I don’t blow up like a balloon. It helps my kidneys too.”

“Do you have a kidney condition too?” I ask, and he shakes his head.

“No, but I really don’t need to develop one. I don’t need more comorbidities than what I have. I take care of my healthy organs because I never know if they’ll need help one day.” Organs…including things like his liver or his stomach, which would make sense on why I always see him eating mostly whole foods.

“Is this why you don’t drink?” I ask.

“Protecting my liver.” He nods and smiles. I put the bottle next to the first one, and then I find a small box with syringes and a clear liquid. He holds the box and says, “These are my rescue medications. In case of an attack, like on the boat, this is what I need. I have a set everywhere—the house, the cars, the plane, the villa, but I was reckless and didn’t think to check if I had some on the boat too.”

“Why? Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m human, and I was so lost in you, I forgot about everything else.” I lower my head after he says those words, but his fingers hold my chin and lift my face up to see him. “Not your fault, baby girl. Mine. My responsibility. My recklessness, and I’m sorry.”

“This,” he adds when I nod, blinking away tears threateningto spill as he holds a small container, “is my daily medication for the attacks, or flare ups, whatever you want to call them. Attacks is more accurate, but it’s such a rough word, I rather call them flare ups. I take these every day, and it manages my symptoms. If I skip it, well, you saw what happened.”

“How often do the attacks happen?”

“It depends, but before the one you witnessed, I haven’t had one that severe in over a year. Which leads me to the next thing.” He slides his hand in the bag, taking out an EpiPen. “This. This won’t stop the attack, but it will keep me alive. I have one of these everywhere, but at the moment, I couldn’t remember where I put them in the boat. I would love to show you how to use it,” he says.

“I know how. We have training at school for those. I know how to identify the symptoms too.” I smile, reassuring him, and open the bag more to see it’s empty. “What? No more medicine? I was starting to think this was an endless bag.”

He chuckles, and everything is good in the world again. I put all his medicines back in the bag, zip it closed, and hand it to him. I kiss him on the cheek and say, “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“Thank you for listening.” He places the bag back in the drawer, closing it with a loud thud.

“It’s part of who you are. I’m sorry if someone has ever made you feel like they don’t care,” I reply, bringing my hand up to cup his face. He closes his eyes slowly, and when his onyx irises meet mine, I can see all the unspoken emotion behind them. “Gus…you know this is not everything you are, right? You’re more than all of these conditions, but theyarepart of you, and that’s okay too. It’s a little scary, yes, but just because of the lack of information. I’m sure it was scary for you too.”

“It was. It is,” he whispers.

“When I was a little girl, I used to be afraid of a lot ofthings. Actually, as I got older and kept learning random shit nobody my age should be worrying about, I got scared of more. A lot more, and you know what someone very important to me told me at twelve years old?” He shakes his head, but he doesn’t break my gaze, which I really like. I love that even though his eyes are so intense and all the emotions coursing betweens us are heightened, he still looks at me.

“She told me I didn’t have to carry it all on my own. She told me it might be easier if I shared the load, even when I didn’t think it was worth sharing. Gus, I’m willing to share yours.”

“See, I knew you were trouble. You have no business making me this emotional,” he replies, and I smile before bringing my lips to his. I hold his face and kiss him, gently, tentative, and slow as I show him with this kiss that I can be patient for him. I show him with this kiss that I want more than just his body. I don’t speed it up, I don’t deepen it, I just take my time savoring him. It’s emotional and raw, and it feels like layers and layers were just peeled back on this barrier between us. We slow the kiss until our lips are barely touching and we’re just breathing each other in.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“For what, kissing you?” I ask.

“For listening.” Our foreheads touch before he shakes his head and breaks the contact. His eyes sober quickly, and then he adds, “I’m glad we talked about us and I’m glad we’re both on the same page. We want this, we want us.” He stops talking, but his dark eyes hold my gaze as his hand caresses my leg from my knee to my upper thigh, the tip of his fingers leaving goosebumps as he moves them.

“But…”

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