Page 52 of Inherited Light
Chapter Seventeen
When I parked in her driveway the clock on the dash read almost five. I carried her directly to her bed and then found the bottle of medicine she described, along with some Advil, bringing them to her bedside. She swallowed the pills and lay back, the pinched expression on her face easing a little bit. I was a nervous wreck and centered myself so I didn’t make her uneasy about what was happening. I picked up her hand and kissed it, asking her if I had time to take a shower or if I needed to stay near her. She encouraged me to clean up and I promised to make her anything she wanted to eat when I was done. I took my time showering, cleaning my skin and hair, but also trying to wash the negativity I carried in my soul down the drain. I had to give her the benefit of the doubt, but it felt like she kept secrets she didn’t ever plan to tell me.
A voice inside my head asked me if I were in her shoes would I do the same. Would I protect myself from the pain and heartache of losing another person I loved? The question was easy to answer. She didn’t keep things from me because she didn’t trust me. She kept things from me because she didn’t trust herself. The weight lifted from my shoulders and I concentrated all my efforts as I dried off and dressed, on her. I let the empathy, which my anger had choked off earlier, flow through me. I felt her fear, her pain, her hope, and her love. It would be up to her to tell me the truth and up to me to react with love.
I stuck my head in the door of the bedroom and noticed she had raised the head of her bed, and she appeared much more comfortable. The icepack I gave her from the freezer rested against her belly and she stared off at the wall as though it held all the answers to her problems. Once back in her room, I held the back of my hand to her head. Relief flowed through me as she had cooled considerably.
I kissed her forehead. “You’re much cooler now. I’m glad.”
“Meds work every time,” she said, sort of half-jokingly. “Thanks for driving me home.”
I picked up her hand again. “You don’t need to thank me. I do wish you would talk to me, though.”
She stared down at my hand holding hers and leaned back against the pillow. “It’s hard for me to talk about.”
I sat on the edge of the bed and took her other hand, holding both in front of me. “I understand it’s difficult for you to tell me everything you deal with every day.”
She stared at our hands instead of my face. “Here’s the thing, Lorenzo. The few guys I’ve dated never hung around after the first couple of dates. Wheelchairs are an inconvenient thing to a young guy who wants to race cars, run wild, and be crazy. Xavier was one of those guys, which is why I’m confused about him approaching me again after all these years. In the end, it doesn’t even matter. Eventually the wheelchair drives them away and I don’t have to tell them the story of me. They see the chair and they assume whatever my story is, they don’t want to be part of it.”
“Maybe men have reacted poorly in the past, but they weren’t me. I’m not put off by the chair because I don’t see the wheelchair as anything more than your mode of transportation. You’re more than the chair, and people would realize it if they got to know you. Your personality is bigger than life, but you hide the personality behind the chair to avoid committing yourself to any one human in this world.”
I held my breath, wondering if the truth I saw so plainly would anger her and drive me from her room. The longer I sat with her in the silence the more I began to feel her torment. It was the only word I could use to describe the pain inside me. It was a broken heart coupled with a shattered spirit and I understood she was drowning in her own tears.
“I’m so sorry, Cat,” I whispered. “I had no idea how truly accurate my observation was. You’re beyond lonely and it’s become a state of being rather than a temporary feeling.”
Tears fell down her cheeks and I gathered her to me carefully. I held her tenderly, letting her weep on my shoulder as all the pain and torture released from her soul.
“If you don’t let this out, honey, you’re going to make yourself even sicker. It’s time to trust someone. You can’t go through life alone.”
She spoke, but her voice warbled. “Why do you think I’m here with you right now?” she asked. “The loneliness nearly killed me. I had to reconnect with people who used to make me feel safe. The only people I could think of were Cinn and Marguerite. I wanted to be part of your family again.”
I smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead. “How come you disappeared then? Why did you stop coming around? Cinn told me it was because she was gone on tour, but she’s wrong. I think you stopped coming around because the same time Cinn was on tour, you were dealing with the transverse myelitis.”
She froze in my arms. I could feel every single body function cease for a millisecond as though if she held her breath, it would stop her heart. I could tell she hadn’t passed out because she was stiff as a board in my arms.
I shook her gently. “Cat, you have to breathe.”
She kept her head on my shoulder and I rubbed her back until I could feel the breath flow through her as she inhaled. Her hand had found its way into my hair and she stroked my temple the way a child would stroke the satin edge of a blanket. It somehow comforted her, so I didn’t say anything.
“How do you know what it’s called?” she asked quietly.
“The doctor at the ER told me what put you in the wheelchair and how it’s affecting your spine now. He explained it had caused the changes to your bones, but he didn’t tell me anything else.”
“Didn’t you Google it?” she asked and I laughed softly.
“No, if there’s one thing I learned from Cinn, it’s never ask the internet for medical advice. You’ll be dying or dead by morning if you do.”
I got a laugh out of her and held tight to the sound as the minutes passed. “I’m afraid to tell you everything, Ren. Once I tell you, you’ll be gone, but I can’t blame you. You can’t love a woman like me for the rest of your life. You have too much life to live.”
“I can see we come at this from different angles. You see me loving you as a bad thing. I see me loving you as a spectacular gift God gave me. You’re the one who has taught me how to listen to my intuition again about my own feelings and those of others.”
“Cinn said you and Tabitha have metaphysical gifts,” she said in an abrupt change of subject. I would play along, but only for a moment.
“We all have gifts, actually. Cinn’s gift is more obvious. Her ability to play any instrument isn’t normal, we know that. Tabitha and I have hidden gifts. She’s psychic and I’m what they call an empath.”
She lowered a brow. “What’s an empath?”
I smiled. “Do you want to lie back down? This could be a long story.” She nodded and I helped her lie back then wiped the few last remaining tears from her face. “An empath is someone who can feel the emotions of someone else they’re connected to emotionally. I spent a lot of years denying my ability, but I’ve learned in life, if you’re given a gift you need to use it. No matter what.”
