Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Achilles
ur special to me – Artemas
Ibarely wave our pilot goodbye as we walk down the steps to the tarmac. I'm too focused on running after Nyx, who's clearly never been so happy to touch the ground. She finished reading the concerto for the rest of the flight and hasn't uttered a word since.
I knew it.
I knew it was too much. It's too intimate. She'll feel stripped bare if I ever play this for an audience.
I'm too scared to ask her what she thinks, or for her approval. Because once she's made up her mind, I won't try to change it.
We get into the car waiting for us, greeted by a chauffeur I haven’t seen in a long time.
It's been a while since I've come to New York. I used to go often. They were nice weekends away when I could forget about SFU and my family, but I’d just party in private clubs and fuck around.
Since I met Nyx, I haven't set foot here, wanting to be with her all the time.
"Are we going straight to your meeting?" she asks in a quiet voice.
"Yes." I put a hand on her thigh, needing to feel her warmth against mine. "But you don't need to make any decision now."
"Don't I, though, if we're going to meet them now?" I can feel the anxiety in her tone, in the shake of her voice.
"You don't need to make any decision now," I repeat, squeezing her thigh for reassurance. Mine or hers, I'm not sure.
It takes us another hour and a half before we finally get to our destination on the Upper East Side. And the second we're outside, she freezes in front of the building.
"What is this?" Her tone is almost accusatory as she stares at the sign for the Ear Institute.
"Our appointment," I reply as I take her hand. Nothing to do with reassurance this time; I'm just pretty sure she's about to run away.
"No, no," she mutters. "Our appointment was with the New York Philharmonic. For your concerto."
"That's tomorrow. Our five p.m. appointment is at the Ear Institute, and we're ten minutes late. If you could hurry up—"
"I can't— I just— What?"
Since we don't have time for her to get over the shock, I drag her inside with me.
"Appointment for Nyx Mayer," I announce to the receptionist.
He raises his head and looks at me with wide eyes.
"Hello, Mr. Duval." He's trying so hard to show respect that he stumbles out of his chair as he gets up to greet us. "Welcome to the Ear Institute. Dr. Decker is ready to see you."
We don't have to wait a single second as he walks us directly to her office. He offers us water and coffees, but Nyx simply shakes her head, still speechless.
"A fizzy water for her, please," I answer for Nyx since she loves disgusting things like water with bubbles.
The office looks exactly like I expected. It's modern, a sleek marble desk showing that our doctor earns a very decent amount of money. And I hope she deserves it, or she's going to get on my bad side.
Her receptionist walks back in with a fizzy water as Dr. Decker introduces herself to Nyx, and I take it since she's still stuck in frozen mode, not even capable of shaking the doctor's hand.
"Baby, this is Dr. Decker. She's an ENT doctor who specializes in neurotology. She's going to look at your ear and see if there's anything we can do."
I smile at Decker, but I know exactly what I show. Fuck up, and your career is over.
"Right," she confirms. "We're going to do a lot of testing today, Miss Mayer.
We usually do it over a few appointments, but your partner mentioned you're only in the city for forty-eight hours, so I gathered the whole team.
It's going to take a couple hours, but I promise we'll figure out what's going on with your"—she glances at her computer screen—"left ear by the time you have to leave.
Hopefully, we'll even have a solution to help make your life easier. "
I'm of the mind to tell Decker off for not studying Nyx's file beforehand, but she called me her partner, and I'll admit, that did more good to me than anything else.
"My life is fine."
Her voice is so quiet that both Decker and I lean slightly closer to her.
"My life is fine," she repeats. "I don't need you to make it easier."
"Nyx—" I start.
"How much is this going to cost?"
I wait a few seconds for her to take back her pointless question, but she doesn't. Even with my unimpressed stare aimed right at her.
"Do you think I looked at that?" I deadpan. "Does the average citizen look at the price of a banana? It's not going to make a dent in my yearly taking-care-of-my-girlfriend budget, don't you worry."
Her nostrils flare as her gaze hardens. "Yes, we do. We do look at the price of a banana, Achilles. Because, see, a banana does make a dent in my budget."
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, since according to her deadly gaze, my answer wasn't the right one.
"Okay," I placate her. "I'm sorry. Forget about the banana. I was acting like an over-privileged fuck, and I apologize. This appointment, and whatever comes out of it, is fine for me. I can afford it."
I narrow my gaze at her, observing the way she's biting on her tongue. It has to be her tongue because she does that when she doesn't have access to bubblegum.
"I'm not Chase, Nyx."
Her eyes squeeze shut, and I know I've hit the right spot. Right where her distrust of people helping her remains.
I take her hand in mine and say calmly, "I won't ask for the money back. I won't ask for anything in return. I'm doing this because I want you to finally have a chance to experience the world like you want to. That's it."
"And what if it doesn't work? What if there's nothing we can do? What do we do once you've given me hope and it's taken away?"
Decker scratches her throat, and Nyx startles, as if she forgot the doctor was here.
"Miss Mayer, if I may, we’ve come a long way in ENT research. I can't promise anything, but we often find solutions. Even if it's a tiny improvement, we can help."
She's not convinced, so she looks at me again. Hope is already shining in her eyes; she just needs one last push.
I shrug, pretending this isn't affecting me, when I've never been more involved with anything.
"I'm a dreamer," I casually repeat the words she'd once told me. "You should try it sometime."
She pinches her lips, desperate to stop a smile from spreading on her beautiful face. Her innocent eyes stay on me when she talks to Dr. Decker.
"Okay. What do we have to do?"
The appointment lasts for hours. They start with questions about when her parents realized there was an issue, if she ever saw doctors about it, and all that stuff.
Every answer makes me want to pay her dad another visit.
Or find her mom and ask her what the fuck she's been up to for all these years.
Nyx had to figure out something was wrong on her own. And she was never able to afford a doctor to look at her ear. She's spent all her life just knowing she was deaf and not being able to do anything about it.
And she still became one of the most talented violinists I've ever heard.
Talk about being exceptional.
They look into both her ears, make her do auditory and audiology tests.
Every few minutes, her gaze comes back to me, seeking a reassurance I'm not sure how to offer.
But fuck, I try. I try because, even if it isn't in me, I want to create it for her.
I nod at her. I grab her hand when I can.
I even try for a real smile, which earns me nothing but laughter.
"Don't try that again." She giggles. "You look creepy."
It worked, though.
They take her to another room, and we wait in a private waiting area while three people work on a diagnosis.
It's eight p.m. when Dr. Decker invites us back into her office.
"Miss Mayer, I have great news," she says with a bright smile as we sit down.
"You're not deaf in your left ear. Not completely, at least. You have a 95% hearing loss from nerve damage. It’s sensorineural, which means it's permanent.
It might have happened when you were a baby or a child, but the why doesn't matter at this point. "
"Oh," she simply says.
"That's your good news?" I say, unimpressed. "Telling us that it's permanent?"
"Well, the good news is that you still have the slightest bit of sound getting through, so we can give you tools to help you hear better.
We can amplify sound for you rather than having to do surgery, for example.
Hearing aids are much different now than they used to be.
They're discreet, extremely efficient. You'll never hear the same way you do in your right ear, but it will be life changing.
You mentioned you go to college. We could give you a microphone device you pass to your professors, and they would just have to put it on their desks.
It would go to your hearing aid directly.
" She points at her own lips, smiling. "You wouldn't have to read on here anymore. "
All I can hear is Nyx's breathing picking up. All I see is the way she bites on her tongue.
"When can she get it?" I ask.
Her head drops, and I hear her sniffling, but I don't point anything out.
"We can do the earmold today, and we'll have it ready in about two weeks," Decker answers with professionalism.
I place my hand at the back of her neck, squeezing gently. "How does that sound?"
She stays quiet, a curtain of hair hiding her face, so I turn back to the doctor. "Get everything ready for the mold."
I slide off my chair, squatting next to her instead as I push locks of hair behind her ear.
"Baby," I say softly. "Talk to me."
She doesn’t. I get nothing while Decker works on her ear. Nothing but tears that I watch drop onto her uniform skirt since she didn't even change on the plane.
By the time we're all done, and Decker sits back behind her desk to book us another appointment for the fitting, I'm standing beside Nyx's chair, a hand still wrapped around the back of her neck.
She stands up abruptly, shrugging me off in the process. "I don't deserve this."
I watch her run out of the room, careful not to slam the door, which tells me she's not mad at us.
"Book the appointment for the fitting. Any day it arrives, it doesn't matter. We'll be there."
And I stride after my girlfriend. Because she's hiding something from me, and I need to find out what.