Chapter Twenty-Seven #3
“Can you eat something? Maybe some saltines?” Kyle suggests. “Then you can brush your teeth, and I’ll leave you be for a few hours.”
“I’ll try.” She nods.
Kyle stands and grabs some crackers from another closet and hands them to Mikayla.
“Is a stomach bug going around?” Mikayla asks.
“No, actually, but I don’t usually see an uptick until November-December. Have you been under a lot of pressure or stress lately?” Kyle asks.
It’s almost like he’s asking it in passing. I don’t know what he’s getting at, but he doesn’t appear to be digging for anything sinister.
“I mean, who isn’t?” Mikayla responds. I give her a little squeeze. “Fine, yes,” she admits.
“Do you feel comfortable telling me about it?” Kyle asks.
Mikayla plays with the unopened plastic wrapping of the saltines. “I have kind of been on autopilot since I was nineteen. My dad got sick, and I was his everything,” she shrugs.
I grab the crackers and open the package and hand her one. I reach beside the bed for the hospital table I put her drink on and hand her the ginger ale. She takes a small sip and smiles at me.
“So, you were a full-time student and caregiver? You didn’t have help? Your brother? Was your father married?”
I can actually feel her shudder beside me.
“You mentioned having a bad day yesterday,” Kyle says.
“It was kind of a rollercoaster day. Really high highs and the lowest lows,” she says softly.
I hand her another cracker, and she rests her head on my shoulder as she eats it.
“You two fighting?” Kyle asks.
My head jerks up at him, but he doesn’t appear to be fishing for anything. Just asking questions.
Mikayla lifts her hand and rubs her temple and then takes a heavy breath.
“Like I mentioned, I was very emotional yesterday, and Caine was subjected to the downside of that.”
Kyle furrows his brow and tilts his head to the side. “How so?”
“I lost my father this year. And things with my mom have been, well—bad. I told her that I no longer wanted her in my life. When I was crying, Caine said something I misinterpreted, and it turned into a big stupid thing. I was feeling emotional and misunderstood him.” Mikayla takes my hand, and I curl her fingers around mine.
“We hashed it out. But then got into another argument.” Mikayla lets out a heavy breath and sits back.
This time she does look at me. “I don’t think I was in an overly emotional state at that point, but I definitely didn’t handle it well. ”
“You’re navigating a new relationship, and you’re living together, which is highly unusual. Add that to your already stressful life and Caine’s got his own shit, I’m sure it feels like a lot,” Kyle says.
“Thanks,” I say sarcastically.
Kyle smiles in response.
“I worry I’m overly attached,” Mikayla says. “I think he’s gonna wake up and tell me that his earlier statement about him not being boyfriend material was right, and I’m not worth the hassle,” she says. Her voice is very quiet, but I can hear her. And so can Kyle.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell her.
But I hear the frustration in my voice. I don’t know how many more times I can say it.
“Caine,” Kyle says, raising his hand to me. “Can I say something that’s unsolicited? And I realize I’m not a relationship expert by any means?”
I nod, and so does Mikayla.
“I’m a doctor, so this purely comes from my experience and what I’ve studied.
Mikayla lost her father and her mother in one year.
I’m not sure what your relationship is with your brother, but that won’t change my view on this.
Two very important people are gone from your life.
Mikayla, you need to mourn the death of your father, which I’m guessing you haven’t been emotionally ready for because of your mother, and now you need to mourn the loss of your mother.
In my view. Mikayla is naturally suspicious of this new relationship,” he points his finger at me then her, “because she’s used to loss.
High levels of stress have been known to cause illness.
You’re crashing. Mikayla, your body is telling you it’s overcapacity. ”
“Are you telling her to break up with me?” I ask. He wouldn’t… would he?
Mikayla squeezes my hand and looks at me. It’s as though she can feel my anxiety, the flip of my stomach at the very idea. Her breaking up with me wouldn’t solve a damn thing!
“He’s suggesting I see a therapist and that I need to rest,” she says. “I’m not breaking up with you; that would make me feel worse,” she adds.
I can see the dark circles under her eyes getting darker as her energy wanes. She sighs and sits back, shutting her eyes.
“If you decide to work for me, as I’m sure you already heard me and Caine talking about ‘cause we were not discreet, I want you to start after Thanksgiving. Give yourself a month. I can make-do. But for now, let me get you both toothbrushes and toothpaste,” he says.
It’s three AM by the time we finish brushing our teeth, and every limb in my body feels heavy. I can barely keep my eyes open. I lower the bed, so we recline, and shut my eyes.
Then I hear her voice, low and husky. It’s almost unintelligible. “I love you,” she whispers.