Chapter 23 #2
Ace is quiet for a long time, expression serious but soft at the same time, eye hidden under the black patch. “Answer me with a yes or no. Did he ask you to be anything other than who you are right now?”
“No.”
“Did he ask for guarantees?”
I shake my head again.
Ace tilts his head. “Exactly. He met you at your worst, Stone. He already knows the cost.”
“Not really. It’s going to get worse.”
He shakes his head. “He doesn’t know that any more than you do,” he says simply. “You said it yourself—everything is up in the air. So you need to trust him when he says he wants to be with you with whatever comes.”
I look away. I don’t know how to do that.
“You’re looking too far ahead anyway, trying to solve all the problems after one appointment. That’s impossible.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “That’s easy to say when your body isn’t the variable. This illness could make our life together very difficult. He might not want it.”
“See? You’re doing it again. You’re living ten steps ahead, trying to protect Fletcher from something that hasn’t even happened yet. You want to keep him from seeing you in pain.”
“Of course I do. He shouldn’t have to deal with any of this.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not your choice to make, though. It’s his.”
I huff. “Fletcher has a whole, rich life, Ace. He has a kid and a business, and everything. I don’t want to be the reason his life gets smaller.”
Ace’s voice softens. “You’re not.”
I glare at him.
“You’ve always thought this about yourself. But you’re not a burden for existing. Fuck your parents for making you believe that. You are never a burden to people who care about you. You hear me?”
“I will be! When this gets worse? When I can’t walk?”
“No. You won’t,” Ace says firmly, stepping closer.
“Love doesn’t pick and choose, man. I promise you, Fletcher sees the whole picture, and he’s probably wishing he could take it away, just like I do.
But he’s going to be there, just like I am.
Because we care about you. We’re in this, Stoney. Not only for the easy parts.”
Not only for the easy parts.
Hadn’t Fletcher said something similar at the cabin? About not needing things to be easy?
Bones presses into my leg, brown eyes peering up at me, like he can feel my heart racing. I rest my hand on his head, fingers curling into his fur.
Ace lifts his prosthetic leg. “Do you remember what you said when I was being fitted for this?”
“No.”
“I was cranky as hell during therapy, and the nurse wanted me to rest, but I wouldn’t. I wanted to keep going. Do you remember what you said to her?”
That day is so long ago now. I remember flying to Georgia to help him through the worst of it, and I remember getting wasted on his back patio, laughing our asses off. But the rest of the trip is a blur.
“You told her that only I get to decide what my limits are, and that she needs to trust me to know them.” Ace shakes his head.
“That’s stuck with me through everything, man.
Given me confidence. But that’s what I’m saying.
You need to trust Fletcher to know his limits in this too.
He said he wants to be with you, right?”
I nod, throat burning.
“Then trust him.”
“He doesn’t know what’s going to happen, though. Even the doctor doesn’t know.”
He touches my arm. “What I’m saying is, we don’t need to, Stone. We’re going to be here no matter what comes.”
A heavy wave crashes nearby, as if echoing the emotions within. My mind is spinning, grasping at the hope he’s offering.
I don’t feel fixed. I don’t even feel better.
But standing there—with the cold air, the dog leaning into me, and my friend not trying to rush me toward answers—I feel less alone in the not knowing.
It isn’t only Fletcher that’s been eating at me, it’s my future too.
I’ve been wanting to plan and think ahead, but everything has felt about as stable as the sand beneath my feet—it could be swept away at any minute.
Maybe Ace is right, though. Maybe I keep trying to live in the after, in the worst version of everything.
I don’t know how this illness will progress, or when, or how badly it’s going to affect me.
The doctor even said I might never need a wheelchair.
Which means I need to stop waiting for what I don’t know and start living in what I do.
Fletcher wants me. More than that, he loves me. He hasn’t said it, but I’ve felt it in everything he does. He’s told me he wishes he could take this away—and I keep trying to protect him from that. From the pain of seeing me suffer.
If he wants to be with me, then I need to trust that he knows what that means. I’ll give him the day to process what the doctor said, then I’ll ask him one more time if he’s sure he wants this future. If he says yes, then I’ll lean into that, trusting him completely.
I hold Bones’ leash tighter in my hand and turn back toward the parking lot. Toward home.
“Come on. I’ll buy you a beer.”
Ace grins. “Now you’re talking.”
For the first time today, I catch myself smiling. Not because I have answers or because I feel brave. But because I’m choosing not to let fear win.
I exhale slowly, feeling strangely steady on my sore feet. Maybe it really will be okay.