Chapter Twenty-Five #2
It can’t be good for him to cry like this with a head injury, but I’m not going to try to stop him.
We sit together like that for a long time.
I don’t say anything, because the only thing I could say would be “it’s okay,” and it’s not okay.
So instead I sit with him, and let him cycle through whatever he’s feeling until he finally calms.
The calm is so short lived I don’t get the chance to say anything, because Cade immediately launches into a coughing fit.
It scares the hell out of me, but I try to get him sitting upright and make sure the little oxygen tube is in the right position under his nose.
Just when I’m about to panic and call for someone, the coughing fades away, and Cade takes some deep, shaky breaths through his nose.
“Dude, can you pass me a tissue or something, please? I’m a fucking mess over here.”
Only Cade would call me ‘dude’ in this moment. It’s so ridiculous I almost laugh, but it’s intrinsically him.
“Sure,” I say, but I grab him gently at the back of the neck and kiss his messy curls before I do.
He blows his nose and swipes at his bloodshot eyes for a second, while I watch him on high alert, certain he’s about to start coughing again.
I’m trying not to flash back to the ambulance, when he started gasping for breath, barely conscious, and they stuck a giant fucking needle into him to let the air out that was keeping him from breathing.
The memory still claws at me, though, and I realize I’m the one tearing up. God, I hate this.
When I look up again, Cade is staring at me.
“Hey,” he says.
His hand, trailing IV tubing, reaches out for mine and I take it gratefully. We hold onto each other, content to sit in silence for a little while longer.
“I’m sorry,” he says, breaking the tension. “That sounds stupid and like it’s not enough, but I wanted to say it anyway.”
I nod, scared to open my mouth because I don’t know what will come out. My throat feels tight, and words aren’t coming to me.
“I don’t want to be like this. I spend all this energy trying to make your life easier and better, and somehow I turned into this giant weight that’s just dragging you down. I’m sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”
“Cade, don’t—” I lose track of what I’m trying to say for a minute.
All I know is that it’s great he’s acknowledging that he’s been shitty, but I hate that he’s already acting like some kind of failure to me. Like this is all about me, all the time. I want him to be better for him, because he deserves it. But I don’t know how to say it.
“Loving you is not a chore, Cade.” My voice cracks a little as I say it, but I hold his gaze the entire time.
“It’s not some kind of horrible burden that you have to pay me back for by taking care of me.
I want you to stop doing this because it feels like you’re hurting yourself, or taking something out on yourself.
And you don’t deserve that, because no one does—not because it’s an imposition on me. ”
Cade stares at me with wide eyes, and it’s surreal to see my chatterbox stunned into silence.
“I need you to stop hurting the person I love. That’s all I want.”
For a second, I think he’s going to start crying again, but he just sniffs and sits there for a second.
“Okay, baby. Okay. Whatever you want.”
Kind of missing the point, but it’s better than nothing. Maybe now’s the time to say it.
“And I need you to trust me to take care of myself more. I know I’m fucked up, and I probably scare you sometimes.
But I hate that it’s become your entire life mission.
I have help. You worked hard to make sure I did.
And I still have weird days, but I am getting better.
We always say we save each other but it doesn’t need to turn into this kamikaze mission, where I’m anxious so you’re stressed and trying to fix it so you neglect yourself which makes me stressed and on and on and on.
We have real problems. We don’t need to be making more for ourselves. ”
Cade chews on his lip, nodding absently. I wait for him to process, because I really want to see what he has to say.
“I think I’ve been being stupid for a long time, huh?”
I sigh. “It’s not stupid, Cade. You’re hurting. But you pretend you aren’t, and it makes it worse.”
He looks up at me, and there’s vulnerability brimming in his eyes.
“What should I do? Can you just tell me what to do please? I’m so tired, and I don’t want to be like this anymore.”
“I don’t know. But if we can afford all this therapy for me, then I don’t see why we can’t afford it for you, as well. Maybe just to start.”
Cade nods, looking small and fragile in a way that makes me want to scoop him up.
“You know,” I keep talking. “Since the day I moved back here, I’ve heard you talk so much about men being allowed to feel their feelings, and not being like our fathers, and all that stuff.
But it feels like you think that’s true for everyone except you.
Talking to someone might help you figure that out. ”
“Okay,” he says. “I guess I always thought therapy was for rich people, but you’re right.
It has helped you a lot.” Cade stares at me like he just realized something.
“Don’t let Tristan send me to fucking rehab, though.
If he gets the thought in his head, nothing will stop him, and I promise I do not need it.
I admit I need help, but not that kind of help.
I’ve just made shitty choices all over this week. ”
I can’t decide whether it’s worth disagreeing with him or not.
Because yeah, he’s been bad this week. But this isn’t the only time he’s turned to drinking when he’s upset.
But it’s never seemed out of control until the past few days, and maybe if he stops bottling all his shit up, he’ll be smarter about that, too.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll protect you from Tristan’s wrath. As long as you start therapy and take it seriously, and stop screwing around. But I will tell on you so fast if you start acting shady again, y’hear? I am not too proud to run to him for help. We’ve established that.”
There’s a ghost of a smile on Cade’s face. Then he seems to wilt in front of my eyes.
“Can we talk more later? I’m so tired,” he says, and his voice is even weaker and raspier than before.
“Yeah, of course. Hopefully we’ll find out soon how long you need to be here for.”
I shuffle lower on the bed, stretching out my legs and then gently rearranging Cade until he’s lying on me the way he likes.
“Go to sleep, baby. I’m right here.”
He snuggles down deeper into my chest, his fingers absently tightening and relaxing against me where he’s holding on.
“Thank you for hanging around, even when things were fucked,” he murmurs into my shirt.
“Always.”
I kiss the top of his head one more time, and stroke up and down his back as he drifts off. It’s the first time I’ve felt any kind of peace in months.