Chapter 37
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN
Elijah slides onto the bench, and I don’t miss the lack of seating available for me.
“Sorry, all out of room. Looks like you’ll have to sit on Elijah’s lap,” Chelsea says with a snicker, taking a massive bite of her taco.
I roll my eyes, refusing to get worked up about this too. I’m about to let down all my walls in the middle of a rainy food-truck stall at a blasted arts festival. Sitting on Elijah’s lap is the least of my concerns.
“You can’t sit on a wet seat, Adhira. Just—just use me.” His green eyes are wide when they meet mine, cheeks flaming.
Someone coughs. I suck in a settling breath and hunker down on one of his thighs, the muscles coiling beneath me as I lower my weight onto him.
I peer over my shoulder at him. “This okay?”
He feels so solid beneath me, and it’s such a contradiction to the warring emotions in my chest and the softness of his gaze.
He’s not breathing, and my fingers twitch to rest on his cheek so I can beg him to take a deep breath for me. Before I do something out of character, his shoulders relax, and he blows out a breath between pursed lips. “Yep. Never better.”
My cheeks pinch with a repressed smile, but I work hard to relax my face before turning back to face my friends, who are all wearing amused expressions of their own.
“So, what’s the big news?” Nakoa asks, and Chelsea elbows him in the ribs. He grunts and mimes sealing his lips shut.
I lower my gaze to the white-and-red paper plates filled with food gone cold. “Let’s just eat, and then I’ll tell you everything.” Not a chance in hell am I having this conversation on an empty stomach.
I knew the day would come when I’d have to atone for my sins. I just hadn’t thought it would be on a Friday evening after stuffing my face with samosas and tacos while sitting in Elijah’s lap.
Regrettably, I find his proximity reassuring.
But despite letting myself shut down a bit, numbing myself to the pain I’m about to inflict on everyone here, I can still feel the heaviness surrounding me, pressing on my shoulders.
It’s time. Time I clear the air and quit forcing Elijah into shitty situations.
My three favourite menaces to society are seated across from me, pressed together, Rafael’s bulk taking up half their side of the bench. Each of them glares between me and Elijah, the quick squeeze of his fingers digging into my hip acting as my anchor.
“If you wouldn’t mind, could you say whatever it is? Because I’m tired of waiting and—”
Elise gets cut off by Chelsea, “Oh my god! Are you two pregnant?” Her huge brown eyes have doubled in size, and my face contorts with the idea of a growing foetus in my womb.
“If you are, just tell us how you’d like to go about it.
I’ve decided I’d keep the baby if I got pregnant, I mean, most likely anyway.
But you totally don’t have to, and I’ll support you however you’d like. ”
Nakoa chokes beside her, grumbling something under his breath. If he’s going to choose the most inopportune time to require the Heimlich manoeuvre, he’ll have to find someone else to do it.
My heart is fucking racing. If I get up now, I’ll never tell them.
With every high-pitched word Chelsea speaks, I grow more exhausted. “I’m not pregnant, and Elijah and I haven’t really been sleeping together,” I deadpan, going for the rip-the-plaster-off approach.
I swear, the three of them roll their eyes in unison. More choking from Nakoa.
“No shit,” Chelsea says. “I was joking so we could get this over with. You really think I’m that ditzy, don’t you?” I feel a flicker of guilt, but not much else penetrates the concrete slab I’ve formed around myself in preparation for this conversation.
“I fucked up.” They blink back at me. “I should have told you all sooner, but I didn’t want to burden you with my problems, and I’m”—I blink, batting away the tears I refuse to let fall—“sorry.”
Elijah gathers my hand in his, bringing it to his mouth to press his warm lips to my knuckles. A shiver wracks my body, my lips cold, the wet air surrounding us only making it worse. I allow the physical contact ground me once more.
“I was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma just before graduation.”
This is only the third time I’ve spoken those words, and they gut me all the same.
Elise pushes herself to stand, leaning forward, with her hands braced on her knees as she struggles to calm herself. I don’t intervene. There’s nothing I could do, nothing she’d want me to do. I’ll wait as long as she needs.
Rafael goes stock still beside Chelsea, his head bending back as he looks up at the dark-grey clouds above, his face getting pelted with rain.
He flexes his hands on the table, blowing out a long breath before fixing his gaze on Elise, who’s shaking out her arms and pacing a few feet away.
I can tell he’s fighting the urge to go to her.
“Bloody fucking hell,” Jelani murmurs from beside Elijah, scrubbing a hand down his face.
Nakoa reaches for him, squeezing his hand. “You good, Jay?” he whispers, and I force myself to look away.
“Why are you telling us now?” Letty asks, her voice so quiet I almost don’t hear it over the thunder rumbling overhead.
I meet her gaze, my stomach twisting at what I see churning in her irises.
Elise sits back down, staring straight past me, as though laying eyes on me might just kill her. I understand. My own reflection is enough to gut me these days.
I pry my tongue from the roof of my mouth and force the words past dry lips. All of them. The explanation they deserve. The reason for my honesty now. How I’d planned to tell them after I was in remission. How that day hadn’t come when I’d thought it would. Why we’re here now.
I tell them everything in painstaking detail.
When I finish, it isn’t wrath, pity, sorrow, or reprimand that I’m greeted with.
It’s everything I’ve needed this entire time and was too stubborn to ask for.
“Firstly, you are never a burden, Adhira,” Elise says.
“Not ever,” Chelsea confirms. “I'm ashamed you could ever think that. Clearly, we haven't been good enough friends if you thought for even a second that was the case.”
“I know you've been told things about yourself that aren't fucking true, Adhira.
You aren't frigid or antisocial just because you don't express yourself the same way others might. There is nothing wrong with who you are.” Elise speaks with so much conviction, and my heart aches.
“I'd have failed out of uni if it weren't for you. Even when it was too damn hard, you pushed me to try harder. You stayed up late to help me with every assignment and made sure I was safe when I experienced a manic episode or shifted into depression.”
“You tried every vegetarian recipe I made, even the ones you knew you'd hate. All because you wanted to help and knew Elise and Letty couldn't tell the difference in the subtle flavour profiles.” Chelsea shifts her gaze between Elise and Letty. “Sorry, guys, but your palates sort of suck.”
That makes me chuckle, and I blow my nose to stem the inevitable flood.
“And when I was falling apart, you laid out my options and stayed with me when we dealt with it. You even skipped class, something you never did, all because I couldn't be alone for a while after that.” Letty’s eyes well with tears as she recalls that day, the one that changed so much for her and the trajectory of any future she and Jelani might have.
We've never spoken of it since. But I'm glad I could be there for her in the only way I knew how.
And I'd do it again without hesitation, no matter what I might miss out on.
“None of that stuff changes the fact that I would've become a burden to you all,” I insist. “You've got so many opportunities and plans for your futures. I can't be the reason for you to miss out.”
“You can be so dense sometimes,” Elise grunts out.
“We're not missing out on shit, Adhira. It's not like you need us to wipe your ass.” Chelsea narrows her gaze. “I mean, I'd do it if you needed me to, but I've had enough diaper changing for a lifetime with my siblings, so I could really do without.”
I rub my temples.
“You're not understanding. I—”
“We understand plenty. You didn't want to burden us because you were worried and working through your own shit. I get that. Okay?” Jumping headfirst into fixer mode, Letty rattles off a plan. “But you aren't alone in this. It’s easier to help you if we each take something on. One person alone shouldn’t have to manage all that you’re going through,” she says, pressing the biggest flaw with my plan so far.
“I didn’t do it all alone. Elijah has been a massive support, but he shouldn’t have to be everything for me.
I realise now that, while I never asked him to in words, that’s what my actions have led to,” I explain, peering at him as I speak to my friends.
He squeezes my hand but says nothing, and I’m grateful.
“Text me your food aversions and anything else I should know, and I’ll take care of your meals—Elijah’s too,” Chelsea says. “It’ll be a good way for me to try out some new recipes,” she adds, though I know she’s only saying that to make me feel less of a nuisance.
“I can keep track of your appointments, and I’ll stop by to help with laundry and cleaning up when I’m not at the lab,” Letty offers.
Elise decides she'll be my comedic relief, even though I don’t find her the least bit funny. She also offers to take on the task of acting as my physiotherapist, to which I don’t remind her that not only is that not what her degree was in, but that she barely passed uni at all.
They spend the next hour sorting through everything I need and planning ways to split the tasks without making me feel entirely useless. By the time they’re done, my heart feels steadier.
Elijah was right the whole time.
I don’t need to do this alone.