Chapter 27 #2
He’d been different since getting his decision to quit off his chest, and I was glad our talk seemed to bring him some relief.
My fingers itched to dig out my phone and call him, to hear the triumph and laughter in his voice.
But I knew he wouldn’t get it, not for a few more hours at least, especially with the celebration that would undoubtedly follow.
Instantly, that dark cloud rolled in and washed out any happiness I had. Irrational and toxic feelings of sadness, jealousy, and abandonment filtered in, the bubble around me trying to reform into something thicker and more potent.
I fucking hated this. I hated myself for being this way.
It wasn’t fair that I didn’t get to hold onto my happiness, my peace.
This illness was always there to taint it or steal it away.
Even when I did what I was supposed to do—take my pills, be honest with Dawson, lean on my support system—it still wasn’t enough.
Why am I never enough?
When do I get to be normal?
I was only half-aware as I snuck away from the group and slid into Dawson’s empty bedroom.
I closed and locked the door, his warm, woodsy scent wrapping around me like I wished he could right now.
I crawled into his bed, burying my face in his pillow and clutching my phone to my chest, waiting for his call.
But it never came.
I woke up groggy and confused, sleep and reality weaving around one another in a disorienting haze.
Keane was playing somewhere in the ether around me, bringing me sweet memories of Dawson singing for me.
I finally shook off the fog of sleep, slowly piecing together that I was in Dawson’s bed and my phone was ringing the muffled song under the covers.
I frantically dug around in the sheets until I found it and elation rushed through me seeing the FaceTime request. Dawson’s face filled the small screen and the void fell away.
“Mornin’ baby,” Dawson rumbled happily, the softest smile on his pretty face. It was a hit of serotonin, infusing my system with a heady pleasure.
“It’s not fair for you to look that sexy this early,” I griped without heat. He really was so fucking hot. Dawson’s bed-rumpled hair, sleep-swollen lips, and scratchy morning voice were doing it for me.
“Trust me, I’m not. I’m hungover as fuck,” he grimaced. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to call you last night. I got in later than planned.”
“No need to apologize, babe. So what does a victor of the Red River Rivalry do to celebrate exactly?” I asked dramatically, ignoring the twinge of paranoia that seeped in.
“A bunch of my buddies dragged me out for drinks, but we had a curfew so we snuck some more drinks back in the hotel and got pretty wasted.”
“What, no stripper cake for the champions?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s for bachelor parties.”
“Ugh, what kind of meathead jock are you? There’s never a wrong time for a stripper cake, Dawson. Don’t be a spoilsport.”
Dawson huffed a laugh, looking up at me through his ridiculously long eyelashes that had the ability to melt my brain. Holy hell, I missed him.
“You know, I can’t remember the last time I let loose like that, especially with football.
It’s like I’ve finally let myself enjoy playing again now that I’ve accepted these will be my last games.
I think I also distanced myself from my teammates because of it, so hanging with them last night felt damn good. ”
While Dawson’s smile was radiant and relaxed, mine felt wooden and difficult to hold in place.
I was so proud of him for letting go and finding joy in the sport again, and of course he deserved to celebrate a major win.
I couldn’t ruin that by dumping my problems on him.
I promised him I’d be honest when things became difficult for me, but there was no way I could be that selfish now.
He’d been through so much because of me and we were finally in a good place.
A great fucking place actually. Burdening him with what amounted to a few emotional cuts and bruises would only jeopardize what we had now.
It hadn’t even been two months and this shit was happening to me.
What would he think being with me months or years down the line would be like?
“Theo, what’s up with you? I can see on your face that something is wrong.”
I didn’t know how far I let the mask slip, but I refreshed my smile and tried to brush it off.
“Nothing. I’m fine.” I gave him the most convincing look I could muster, but my stomach roiled with guilt. How can the smallest words carry the biggest lies?
I pivoted quickly to attempt to salvage the conversation and throw him off the topic.
“I’m really fucking proud of you, Mercury. I can’t wait to brag about my sexy, OU-crushing quarterback boyfriend,” I winked, lowering my voice to that register that made him stupid for me. Dawson wasn’t the only one with brain-melting powers.
Unfortunately, mine were apparently on the fritz because Dawson wasn’t biting.
“Baby, please don’t lie to me,” he pleaded softly. “I know you, I can tell something is off. I trusted you to tell me if you were struggling, so please don’t betray that.”
His words gutted me, sucking the air from my lungs and replacing it with shame. My reasons for protecting Dawson from my issues dissipated instantly. I blew out a deep breath, trying to remind myself that Dawson was strong enough to handle my demons.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to say anything because you’re so damn happy and you had this incredible fucking achievement. I didn’t want to ruin it with my bullshit problems.”
I expected him to be fuming, to get pissed at me for almost breaking my promise to him, yet I didn’t expect to see empathy lining his features or his sweet smile return.
“Theo, I need you to listen to me carefully. You are not a burden to me. Your problems are not bullshit and it would kill me to know you were suffering alone when I could have helped you. I know I can’t fix it for you or make it better, but I want to walk with you through it anyway.
That’s what I mean when I say I love you.
Your hell is my hell. Your pain is my pain.
I’ll carry you through it if I can’t carry it for you. ”
My breathing stalled and my lash line flooded. My chest ached from the raw emotion that had been hiding behind the wall of drugs in my system, and it spilled over in warm tears down my cheeks that I rushed to wipe away.
“Did you just quote Lord of the Rings in your epic romantic speech?” I laughed wetly.
“It wasn’t an exact quote,” Dawson grumbled. “Blame Nate. He’s the one who has those movies on a near constant loop at our place. I hear Gollum in my fucking sleep sometimes.”
I chuckled, feeling some of my worry bleed away.
I tried hard to keep my shit under wraps and get some control over how the pills made me feel, but with Dawson I felt safe to fall apart.
It wasn’t easy to blindly trust that I wouldn’t scare him off or become too much for him.
However, it was a mathematical certainty that I would lose him if I started hiding parts of myself away again.
“I was doing okay for a while, but lately it’s been…hard.”
“What’s hard, baby?”
I chewed my bottom lip aggressively, trying to find the right words to make him understand. “Everything.”
Dawson was patient as I filled him in on the blunted emotions, disrupted focus, and depression that I recognized was creeping in. It wasn’t until I told him about the Tower and the dangerous direction my thoughts had turned that his calm exterior cracked.
“Fuck, Theo…I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”
His distraught face broke my heart. “Dawson, even if you’d been here, it still probably would have happened. That’s just…how this drug affects me. The mania gets contained, but it sort of leaves the door open for the darker shit…”
“Have you ever tried getting a different prescription?”
“I tried once when I was at SHSU after the third or fourth time of going off my meds. The doctor said pretty much the same thing as the psychiatrist at the rehab place. ‘Lithium is the gold standard for bipolar disorder’ and ‘you’ll adjust to it eventually’, blah blah fucking blah.”
Dawson seemed to process that, a wrinkle forming between his brows that I wanted so badly to kiss and smooth away.
“We’ll figure out how to manage this, Theo. I promise you. Even if I have to hire a whole damn team of specialists to create a treatment specifically for you.”
I smiled at the fierce determination in his voice. And even though it was an outlandish promise he could never keep, his conviction made me want to believe it was true.
“I love you so much, Mercury.”
“I love you too,” he whispered through that sweet, shy smile that was close to unmanning me. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing really. Why?”
“How about going on a date with your—how did you put it? Your sexy, OU-crushing quarterback boyfriend?”
“Wait, seriously?” I beamed while a swarm of butterflies took off in my stomach.
“Absolutely. We get back around three-thirty, so how about I pick you up at five?”
“That works for me. Where are we going?”
Dawson’s lips kicked up into a devastating smirk and I forgot how to breathe.
“You’ll see.”