Not Catching Love (Accidental Love #5)

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-One

Xander

I’ve never felt my stomach hollow out quite like this. Like I haven’t eaten for days, and now all that’s left sitting there is this dirty mass that’s trying to bring on my anxiety. I can feel it pulling at me. That darkness.

But the weird smell doesn’t hit, and for now, I’m able to hold it off.

The meds don’t always work. They haven’t fixed me. But I do feel like they’re this extra barrier of defense.

“No,” Derek immediately answers. Then he whispers, “Maybe.”

“Maybe,” I echo the word, but the meaning behind it is gone. “Maybe.”

“Xander …” His phone disappears from my grip, and his hands replace it. Large, warm, strong. I can’t lose them. “Look at me.”

Yeah, I can’t do that. Not right now. I’m shutting down and trying to hide, and the first thing I hide is my eyes. Why the fuck didn’t I wear my contacts over here? What if I cry and my eyeballs end up all red and ugly, and he looks at me and decides Cambodia is a much better idea than the stupid, bratty piece of shit he left behind?

“Xander. I said look at me, and I mean it. Now.”

My gaze snaps up to clash with his, and somehow, it’s even worse. I can’t lose him, I can’t lose him, I can’t lose him.

“I applied for this after Ghana. I told you about that, remember?”

Slowly, I nod my head. I think he’s mentioned it a few times, but I’ve been happy to ignore the very vague thing that was only maybe happening in the future.

His hands tighten over mine. “I’m going to talk, and you’re going to let me finish before you try to cut in. Understand?”

A small part of me wants to tell him to fuck off to Cambodia and find a new boyfriend and be happy and forget all about me. It’s instinct. Something that easily would have fallen from me before without pausing to think about it as a way to protect myself. Thankfully, my rational side is still somewhat in control, and it’s so strange to be able to stop those thoughts in their tracks, even as I feel like I’m unraveling.

“Okay,” I whisper.

Then Derek does that thing he’s only done a few times before. Where he presses a hard, fast kiss to my lips. Like a reassurance. A reminder. “The thing I love to do most is help people. That’s why I became a nurse. Knowing that I’m actively making someone’s life better fulfills me in a way I can’t describe, and the two things at the top of my hypothetical dream board have always been Nurses International and keeping bees.”

“Bees?”

He gently places his thumb over my lips. “Ghana was fucking hard, and it forced me to face a lot about my privilege, but it also showed me all the ways I was lacking. The sense of family between the people I cared for there was strong and real, and it made me realize how I didn’t have that. How much I wanted it. Since I came back, since I found you … I’ve added one more thing to the top of my dream board.”

I wait for him to go on. Is having a family part of his dream board? If so, that’s going to fuck some things up for us because I hate kids taking for granted their perfect families and their safe upbringings and?—

“It’s you, Xander.”

“Me?”

Derek slumps back into the couch, arms across the back of it as he stares at the ceiling. His shirt is pulled up, showing off that stomach I want to lick, and he looks tired for the first time since I’ve met him.

“Come on, Xander.” His voice is rough. “Do you really think I’d be fucking around as boyfriends and waiting until we can be together properly if I didn’t think you were the real thing? If I didn’t look ahead and see my future with you in it?”

These shivery sort of nerves hit me. “The real thing?”

His eyes look as wet as mine feel. “I’m trying to do right by my license, but what I feel for you … it’s too big. And I’m tired. I don’t think I can keep fighting it.”

“I want you,” I tell him. “I don’t care how, I just want you . I’ll wait forever. I don’t care. Just please, please don’t leave me.”

His eyes squeeze closed. “Don’t.”

“I can’t …”

“Please, just … let me think.”

Thinking is bad. Thinking will convince him to go. It’s what convinces everyone to go. They love me for a while, and then they stop and think and realize I’m way too much effort and way too hard to love, and then I’m alone again.

“Don’t cry,” he whispers.

“Sorry.” I blink wildly, trying to force myself to stop. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to disappoint him. But not dating Derek has been the greatest time of my entire life, and I don’t know how I’ll survive without it. I don’t know how to look at the future and not see us there. Because I can’t stop myself, because I can’t keep it inside, and I’m desperate to make sure he doesn’t leave, I choke out, “What about your dream board?”

“I think … I think that’s why I need to do this.”

I can’t stop the tears anymore. It hurts too much to think about him being gone, him moving on. I’m spiraling, and I know I’m spiraling, but it takes me a moment. Just a moment to realize something.

This is a regular spiral.

One that a lot of people experience.

My chest isn’t closing up. I’m not smelling things that aren’t there. I don’t feel like the literal world is literally ending. Just my tiny slice of it.

It still hurts. It’s still horrible and depressing, and I’m not sure that I’ll survive it.

But I’m not dying. At least not yet.

So I do the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I swallow deeply, force the negative thoughts back, and when Derek reaches forward to cup my face in the way I love so much, the way that makes me feel so small and fragile compared to him, I meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m not handling this very well.”

“No, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” His cheeks are wet with tears, and it’s such a weird thing to see someone as relaxed and put together as Derek cry. “I want to make the right choices, and I don’t know what that is.”

“Staying with me.”

I see it right then. The way his eyes dim.

“You don’t want to.”

“It’s not that.” He strokes my cheek, and I’m so glad he’s touching me. “I want to be with you more than anything, and at the rate we’re going, it’ll mean risking my license. Walking away from nursing and helping people. Every single day with you is a struggle because I want to be able to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I want to give you everything, Xander. Everything. But I can’t right now, and it’s fucking killing me.”

“You’re not happy?”

“Not because of you. With you, I’m the happiest I can ever be. I wasn’t lying about us having a future, but if our relationship gets out, if I’m reported by someone?—”

“Who’d report you?”

Susan from the pharmacy immediately comes to mind. “If any other medical professional got wind of this, they’d have to report it. Like it or not. And if we keep going the way we’re going, someone at work will find out. I’m not a very good liar.”

“So … so what does this mean?”

His hands find mine again. “The trip is a four-month placement. It’s … well, full honesty, it’ll be fucked to be away from you for that long, but at least if I’m physically in another country, then it’s buying us some time. It’ll be a year and a half by the time I get back, and …”

And we’ll only have to hide for another six months. Roughly. I’m trying really fucking hard not to freak out. “What if you decide that I’m not worth it?”

“If I decide that, I’ll decide that, whether I’m here or not. That’s your anxiety asking that question, not you. Can you honestly tell me that I’ve done anything in the last six months to make you think that I’m fucking around? Do you really think I’d be risking my job for something that didn’t mean so much?”

Knowing Derek, I know he wouldn’t. “Four months is a really long time.”

“Don’t I know it?” He plays with my index finger. “I’m so torn. If I stay and we’re found out, that’s going to be a lot of stress added to our relationship. If I leave … I need to know you’ll be okay. I can’t go if it’s going to mess with you. If you’re going to doubt how I feel at all.”

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? If we’re together, Derek is always going to consider how I feel. What I need. Maybe, this once, maybe I need to do the same for him. Even if it means hiding how much it hurts, even if my brain is going to tell me for four whole months that he’s never coming back, even if I wake up in a cold sweat every night, convinced he’s dead, I can’t stop him from going.

Because he’d never stop me.

“I don’t think I’m capable of not doubting it. Or of being okay. But …” I’m worried for a second that the words won’t happen. “I want you to go.”

“Xander …”

“I’m not selfless very often, so you need to take it.”

He still doesn’t look convinced, and I think it’s that indecision more than anything that makes me certain.

“You’re going,” I say, expecting it to kill me. It doesn’t. “I’m going to text you every day until you’re back. I’m going to be thinking about you always. And when you’re back, we’ll be that much closer to being together.” My voice shakes. “I don’t know if you know this, but I sort of have abandonment issues. Just a tiny bit.” I swallow roughly. “I’m always so convinced that people are going to leave me. Maybe it’s time I trusted someone to come back.”

When Derek’s mouth comes down on mine, it’s sweet fucking torture. It feels like we kiss forever, but we both need the connection. The promise.

When I can’t take it anymore, I pull back, forehead rested against his. “I have one request though,” I say, breathless.

“Anything.”

“Can … when you get back … can we have sex? It’s going to b e hard to deal with you leaving me, but that might help me get through.”

“I’ll be counting the days,” he promises. “I’m coming back to you, bug. Always. Don’t forget that.”

I swear to fucking Bertha, I will try.