Page 50 of We Can Stay
“Those are good. Thanks.”
“I’ll get your heating pad too, just in case.”
I grunt in acknowledgment. “Thank you.”
Carefully, I adjust so that I’m on my side. My chest is starting to ache, but I hold off on pressing the ice pack he brought me to it. If Sebastian sees me doing that, he’ll know that something is up beyond simple sore muscles.
“What else can I do for you?” He crouches next to me so that we’re eye to eye.
“Um...” I bite my bottom lip. “Nothing. Thank you. I know you have things to get to.”
He brushes my hair back from my face. “I’m staying here for as long as you need me.”
But I don’t really need him. Or want him.
Not for any longer than he’s already been here, though.
In order to take care of myself the way it needs to be done, he has to leave.
Which I feel horrible about, but that’s just how it is.
“Really.” I smile. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure? I can?—”
“I’m fine,” I say, a little firmer than I mean to. I don’t want to lose my temper with him, and I’m afraid that’s inevitable. My standard reaction to pain is to snap at people—not ideal—and then to go be somewhere alone. Dealing with my chronic condition has never been and never will never be a group activity.
“And you have things to do,” I repeat. “I’m not going keep you any longer.”
He still looks uncertain, like he wants to argue, but I can see his responsibilities battling with his desire to stay here.
He finally nods. “You have your phone?”
“Right there.” I glance at my purse, on the floor next to the bed.
“I’ll put it next to you, so you don’t have to reach for it.” He retrieves it and sets in on the mattress next to me.
“Thank you, Sebastian.” Now, please just go.
“Anytime.” He gives me a gentle kiss. “Call if you need anything at all.”
“I will,” I murmur, not really meaning it.
But wishing I did mean it. At least a little bit.
With one last kiss, he leaves the bedroom. A moment later, the front door shuts, and it’s like I can breathe deeply for the first time since we got to my place.
Is there something wrong with me that I just can’t accept help when it’s offered? Or am I doing the healthy thing, making sure Sebastian doesn’t get too close?
“Mew.” Cat peeks around the doorway and studies me.
I sigh. “I don’t know, girl. I just don’t know.”
I drift off to sleep wishing I had just let Sebastian stay.
What feels like a moment later, I’m startled awake by my phone ringing on my bedside table. I look at the clock: 11:47pm
If Sebastian is calling at almost midnight to check on me, I’m going to kill him. I scoot to the edge of the bed and pick up my phone. Instead of Sebastian’s name on the screen it just says “Unknown.”
