Chapter Thirty
Dan
“W hat are you doing?” I ask, watching Sejin type away on his phone with his thumbs.
“Making a list.” He flashes the screen my way. I see the words shower stool, toilet chair, wheelchair—with a question mark following it—and non-slip mats.
“You really think we’ll need all that?” Embarrassment falls over me. Do I need aids to shower or take a shit like I’m some kind of old man instead of a world class athlete? “I’m sure I can handle it without all that stuff.”
“I’m sure you can’t, ” he says with finality, so I don’t even bother trying to challenge him.
“I wish I had a better idea of the timeline for everything,” Sejin says, sitting on the edge of the bed and sighing.
“They dumped you out the door before I could get much more out of them than ‘Call this number; they can help you.’ And when I call that number, they say they need information from the hospital about your plan of care, and…”
“Doc, it’s all right. We have time.”
Sejin blows out a long breath. “Thank God.”
Yeah, thank whatever powers that be. We have time.
Sejin rises then and puts his hair up in a ponytail, his expression all business. “Let’s get it done. You need to sleep.”
Sejin gives me a sponge bath, making me feel about eighty years old. I always heard sponge baths were sexy, but this one is far from enjoyable. But I suspect this aspect of my life isn’t going to be pleasant for some time.
I’d be okay with someone just popping my leg off and replacing it with a working one. I don’t know why science hasn’t made that possible yet.
Sejin gets me into a t-shirt and a pair of cut-off sweatpants, coerces me to eat some yogurt and a few pieces of apple, and afterwards holds a bowl of water under my chin for me to brush my teeth.
My leg is elevated on pillows and hurts like a motherfucker. He’s given me the bedtime pain meds, though. I can only hope they kick in soon. There aren’t many in the bottle. Strict laws on prescription opioids prohibit that.
“I’m going to sleep out on the sofa,” Sejin says.
I try to keep from jolting my leg at all as I pat the mattress. “There’s room on the bed for you.”
Sejin pauses in his retreat, moves Julio off, and takes a seat next to me again. “Alright. I’ll stay until your meds kick in.”
“Sleep next to me.” I really want to feel his body by mine. Smell his hair and his neck. Feel like it’s going to be okay. That we’re going to be okay.
Sejin runs the back of his fingers up my forearm. “I’m afraid I’ll kick you in my sleep or something. You’ll rest better if I’m not in here.”
I reach for a loose lock of his hair, slipping it around my fingers. It’s thick and silky, and I wonder when I’ll ever want to get naked and screw him again. Right now that seems like an impossible dream. I know I couldn’t get hard for anything.
“I want you to hold me,” I say. “You haven’t. Not yet.”
He’d hugged me in the hospital, and supported me out to the car, and helped me get into the house, and washed me off, but he hasn’t lain down beside me or held me with tenderness, the way he’s always done almost from the start. I want his comfort and familiar ease.
Sejin scoots into position, moving slowly so as not to jostle my leg.
He carefully lowers himself down next to me, his arm over my chest, and his cheek resting on the pillow beside me.
I can feel his breath on the side of my face.
We’re silent for a long time. Eventually I ask, “Are you going to leave me over this?”
Sejin huffs. “I already told you I’m not going anywhere.”
“Not now, obviously. But later. When I can go up again.”
He sighs. “Danny, can’t we just hold each other and not tell scary stories about the future?”
I slide my arm so that I’m pressing him tighter to my chest. We’re quiet again until I can’t take it anymore. “I wish I could tell you I’m not going to try again, but—”
“Danny. Stop.” Sejin lifts up on his elbow, his face looming over me. His hair is still pulled back, but loose strands brush against my cheeks and forehead, tickling me. “I’m not leaving you. Ever. You’re gonna have to be the one to leave me. Got it?”
“It’s not fair to put you through this.”
“It’s not,” he agrees. “But life isn’t fair.”
“Relationships should be fair.”
“Bullshit.” Sejin sits up. “You’re too drugged up to have this conversation, and if you aren’t now, you will be as soon as the meds hit. But I want you to listen to me. Nothing is fair. Nothing is ‘even’ or ‘equal’ or ‘fifty-fifty’ at any time, in any way, in this world. Know how I learned that?”
“Your mom,” I whisper.
“Got it in one. But also growing up in West Virginia. Watching people struggle to get by. Seeing the chemical companies pack up and leave us all stranded. Hell, I learned it just by living. I could be pissed off about a lot of unfairness if I wanted to be, and I wouldn’t be wrong.
But I’m not going to live my life looking for ways that someone screwed me over or thinking if I do this, then someone owes me for that. That’ll never pan out the way I want.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to be with you for as long as I can, for as long as you want me, and if that means I have to make peace again with you climbing a big, stupid rock wall, and maybe falling off it, then fine. I’ll make that peace.
Because even if it’s not fair, well…you wouldn’t ask me to give up my smile for you, would you?
Or my voice? We aren’t the fucking Little Mermaid here, are we? ”
“No.”
“Exactly. I’m not a mermaid.” Sejin pushes the stray hairs back from his face. “I’m a seahorse . Your seahorse.”
“I think those meds have definitely kicked in because I think you just said you’re a seahorse.”
“No, you heard right. I’m a seahorse.”
“You’re sure? Because that’s ludicrous,” I say, feeling loopy. “You’re a man, a whole-ass man, Sejin. Not a seahorse.”
“I am a man,” he agrees with a sad smile gracing his lips. Nothing like my favorite smile.
I wonder when I’ll see that one again. Maybe not for months. If he changes his mind and leaves me, maybe never. My heart aches almost as much as my leg at that thought. Sejin bends close and whispers, “I’m your man.”
“Not a seahorse.”
Sejin rolls his eyes, kisses my nose, my lips, my chin, and then my cheek next to the stitches. That hurts a little and I hiss. To make up for it, he kisses my nose again.
“I’m definitely a seahorse,” he proclaims. He touches his thumb to my busted lower lip. “We’re gonna have to see about those teeth.” He carefully gets off the bed. “Those snaggles are gonna rip my lips something awful if we don’t.”
I tongue the damaged edges, marveling that they don’t hurt much.
The nurse at the hospital said it was because they aren’t actually broken, just badly chipped.
The injury hasn’t gone all the way to the pulp.
I’m lucky, she said, because tooth pain is a real agony.
So is pain from a broken fucking leg, by the way.
Even so, there’s no doubt I’m lucky. Miraculously so. Not even half a doubt there. I should be dead.
Sejin stops in the door after herding Julio out of the room and turns back to me. “Get some rest. Everything will seem brighter in the morning.”
I think he’s talking to himself as much as he is to me.
The meds lure me under, and when the morning sun rises, things still pretty much suck.
Having Sejin help me out of bed, cover my half-cast, and get me into the shower is sheer misery.
There’s nothing sexy about him pressed against me fully clothed, getting soaked all over, trying to keep me steady as he washes my hair, my body, and even my ass.
I can at least manage to help out with my front, but I lose my balance if I move around too much.
I try to keep my whimpers to myself, but my leg throbs like nothing I’ve ever imagined. It’s almost enough for me to want to beg someone just to cut it off at the knee.
I don’t complain to Sejin, though.
I deserve this pain for the choices I’ve made. I’ve earned it, and he shouldn’t have to suffer with me. I try my best to keep my temper in check when he accidentally bumps me with his arm and the agony flares up to my hip, making me feel dizzy.
Gritting my teeth, I pledge— I’ll get through this and get better as fast as I can. I won’t cause Sejin additional worry or trouble.
I’ve already hurt him enough just by being who I am and doing what I do.
As I watch him putting out a tray of things he thinks I might need while he runs down to town to grab some groceries, I’m filled with gratitude and affection.
He’s so beautiful and so good. It might be the meds talking, but I love him so much.
I know damn well, aside from climbing, he’s my life.
If he leaves me, I’ll wish I’d missed landing on that ledge.
I snort. Rye’s right. We really are both drama queens.
But the terrifying thing is… I mean it.