Page 69 of Papers Don't Lie

I don’t miss that she asked me to go, not asked me if I could go. With a shake of my head, I exit my office and stop at the staircase, when I hear Dad’s voice coming from his room.

“God gave me a gift, Florence. I’m still alive, and thanks to Kai, I get to see one of my sons getting married.”

Something curls around my chest, and I can’t stop the small smile spreading on my lips. This wedding will bring more happiness than I thought it would, and it will also be a break from the reality of the threats looming above us.

With careful steps, I walk upstairs, finding Esmeray on our bed, crafting clothing for Purple.

“You’re still in pajamas?” I ask, placing my hands in my suit.

She doesn’t even glance at me, her hair tucked in a high bun as she struggles to make the dog stay still. “You’re still in a suit?”

“Well,” I say, walking to her, “I can’t exactly go to meetings dressed in an outfit similar to yours.”

Esmeray completely ignores me. “What do you think?” She lifts Purple, showing the small suit on his belly with a purple tie. “I thought about putting a bow on his head, but I don’t think he’d appreciate that.”

“Is this the urgency I was asked for?” I ask, patting Purple on the head, and he wiggles his tail.

“Yes. I got the idea in my dream and since tomorrow is our wedding, I don’t really have time to make this perfect, though I think this one is close to it.” She grins, showing me her white teeth. “How was your meeting?” Esmeray asks, biting her lip as she undresses the dog.

I sit down on the bed next to her, feeling her stiffen in an instant. “I heard you talked to Kendrick.”

She stops breathing, her actions robotic. “Yes.”

“About me?”

“Yes, but only because I was sure you weren’t going to tell me.” Esmeray puts the dog down, then turns to me, her legs crossed as she fully faces my body. “Am I right?”

“No,” I tell her.

“Then if I ask you something about last night, will you tell me?”

Half of it is already said, so she needs to find out the truth. At least about that part. I hesitate a bit before replying because she’ll become the first person to know after my therapist.

“Yes.”

Her green eyes soften, and her shoulders slump before she gathers the courage to ask me what’s been bugging her since last night. “What condition do you have?”

My breath catches in my throat, and I watch her eyes watching mine, unblinking with expectancy. She’s not judgy; she’s completely curious.

“Well…” I take a deep breath and continue. “It started shortly after our mother left, and I took it as my job to take care of my brothers. At first, it was something innocent, something that almost every person feels—if one person needs help and you can provide it, you do it. That’s when I first heard about savior complex syndrome. Over the years it developed into something more. I started having nightmares where I was in the skin of that specific person, living their reality but on a much worse level. It became unbearable, mostly because before visiting a therapist, my only way to cope was avoiding sleep. Soon, I started to hear and see things that weren’t real. That’s when I decided it was time to change.”

Esmeray mouth opens and closes. I find myself releasing a relieved breath of air. I didn’t know telling her this would free me as much as it does.

“Do you have nightmares with me? That’s why you’re never sleeping?” she asks, her eyes bulging out of her head.

I intentionally avoid the first question. “I sleep three hours a night in total, and it’s something that my body accepts for a while.”

“Until it doesn’t,” Esmeray murmurs, her gaze pointed at the ground. “I’m the reason you’ve changed so much,” she says to me, getting to her feet. “I tried to ignore it because I thought it was only in my head. The way your hand is always trembling, the way you twitch in the five seconds you sleep, the way you take a shower in the middle of the night, the way you barely eat anymore. It’s all on me.”

Fuck me.

If I knew the truth was going to be a burden for her, I would’ve lied to protect her.

“It’s not on you.” I fight her, getting up to my feet and catching her when she wants to leave. I catch her cheeks between my palms. “I’ve learned to live with this, Ray, and for years, I ran from the reality. It’s my fault it’s hitting so hard, and that’s because I’ve been hiding. It’s not. Your. Fault.” I demand her to understand, but all I meet are the tears in her eyes.

“Does this…” she says, gesturing with her hand, “savior syndrome make you get attached to the people you’re helping?” Esmeray asks, not looking me in the eyes. “Because the other night… the other night you told me something about you thinking you cared about me.”

“Care and feel are two different things. I care about everyone. I feel for a few. And I feel for you, Ray, not because it’s in my nature, but because of who you are.”

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