28. Georgie #3
I tried to ignore her commentary as she did all this, how she described the size of the spot in comparison to a quarter-sized bruise-like spot on the top of the skin, but that underneath the tunnelling and inflammation it was comparable to the size of a small tangerine.
It was hard to imagine anything that size inside your body, but I didn’t doubt her in that comparison.
I could feel every press of her cleaning, finding a new tract to clean and pack with gauze.
It was once she started packing the wound to help encourage healing that I tuned it out, remained focused on breathing and thinking about getting home.
I only tuned back in to her one sided conversation when she noted the red lines of infection creeping along my skin around the area she'd just performed the procedure, pondering the starting signs of cellulitis. She then prescribed an oral antibiotic that I knew wouldn’t work, would only make me feel sick and terrible for days in combination with the ones I was already taking, but I would take it as she told me to because I didn’t want to hear the ‘you’re not taking your meds as prescribed and that’s why you flare’ bullshit I’d heard before.
The moment I step into the apartment, Birdie is by my side.
She knows, she knows, she knows. I try to give her a little nudge, to tell her I’m okay, to hide the fact that I want to lean on her like a crutch, like she wants me to just like Noah has taught her but—I don't. All my strength was tested today, and I want to remain as strong as I can until the floodgates open, and I am alone. For now, I want to feel strong on my own. I don’t want the help.
I don’t want her to see me breaking. I don't want Noah to see me breaking. Not again.
Things have been too good to have him see me at my worst again.
I have yet to see him as anything other than perfect, and it’s infuriating right now.
I know I can't get mad at him when he has done nothing wrong, and it’s just my mood.
I can't take my pain and my issues out on him, but damn it the moment I see his smile all I want is to snap. He doesn't deserve that.
I know I need a reason to ask him to leave, and quickly.
I put on a brave face, straighten as much as I can, stand in such a way that makes me feel like I can breathe, like the feeling of a hot poker searing into my skin lessens only for a moment.
I know that this feeling will pass, it's an after effect of the freezing meds fading out and leaving behind the pain to deal with until it heals.
“Hey you, how did it go?” I look up to see Noah come into view and he takes one look at me, his blissfully unaware face shifts to one of concern.
He can tell something is off. Pull yourself together, Georgie. I clear my throat and put on a smile, the one I’ve carefully crafted to fool people into thinking I am fine, everything is fine.
“It went,” I say with a chipper tone, too chipper.
His eyes narrow. “That sounds… deflective.”
He steps closer to me and while I don’t step away, I just pray his hands stay above the waist and gentle.
I shrug at his comment before he can say anything else, brave face still solid as I walk further into the house, avoiding his shifting glances.
“Listen, I was thinking about going to my moms, since I figure you’re super busy planning for Sienna’s sprinkle tomorrow. ”
Where had that come from? I'm usually never that quick on my feet. But I can feel my guard slipping, my composure wavering only for a moment. But if I don't get him out soon...
“Georgie,” he whines, drawing out the end 'e'; his tone is a warning that he’s not buying the act.
“Noah,” I echo back, holding out the 'ah'. He doesn’t respond, so when I turn around to see where he's gone, I’m startled as his arms surround me and pin me where I stand, one on either side of my body, holding firm with my back pressed to the kitchen island. It’s impossible to look away from the hold he has over me, but I swallow hard; he glances down to my lips when I start to chew the corner.
A nervous tell I didn't know I had until he pointed it out once.
His jaw flexes. "Is everything okay? How can I help? What can I do? What—"
"Noah," I stop him, a hand on his cheek. He leans in, gives me his biggest puppy dog pout and flutters his eyelashes at me. That almost makes my guard falter. But I compose myself and bite the inside of my cheek. "I'm fine."
He huffs, pulling away from me for the first time and running a hand through his hair as he groans to himself, "’I'm fine’ is the exact opposite of fine. It's literally the way someone deflects, so you think they're fine, but they're not fine. It's infuriating."
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him genuinely frustrated with me.
I can’t say I like the feeling; it physically hurts my heart and makes my chest tight at the thought, but I know I deserve his frustration.
I know I am being a pain in the ass because of my literal pain in the ass and because I don’t like to let anyone get close when things like this happen.
It’s much easier to push away the ones who care, to keep them at a distance, so they don’t grow to resent you.
It’s much easier to be in pain alone than to hurt someone else in the inevitable process.
But in doing so, I know I am frustrating him because I know all he cares about is taking care of me.
Another catch 22 for me. I want someone to care and want them to want to take care of me, and I also don't want to let them do it for the same reasons.
"Really, I'm okay." I lie, using my best attempt at a teasing tone. "I just want to take some time for me... you know?"
Lie. If I were truly saying what I was feeling?
It would sound something like I want you as close as I can have you before you want to let me go.
I want you to love me as much as I love you.
I want to keep you at a distance because I love you, and you don’t deserve to be with someone who is as broken as me.
But Noah instantly deflates, his face falls and there's this twinkle of recognition in his eyes.
He had come back into my space while I thought about all the reasons to push him away when all I wanted was to pull him close and not let go if I knew that I could give him what he needed right now.
But I can't. The seams in my sturdy exterior are cracking.
"Oh… Okay." He says softly, and he rubs the back of his neck, making the decision in his mind.
He clears his throat, looking away, steps around me, around Birdie, around the counter and into the living room to grab his sweater to cover himself from the rain outside on this cool September day.
I follow him, because I don't really know what to say to this reaction or how to approach this without making it worse somehow.
Noah makes it all the way to my door before he turns around, his face reading every emotion he doesn't say out loud.
"I will respect that you need your space, Georgie. If that's what you need, I will give that to you." He nods as if he agrees with himself that this is the right thing to say, even if I know that he wants to say the exact opposite. This man... my god, he's too good for me, too good for the world.
I reach for his hand, a small smile on my face. I give his hand a squeeze. "I'll see you at the sprinkle tomorrow, okay?"
He sounds strained for air when he says, "You're still going to come?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
Noah struggles to find the words, "I just... I don't know. But you're sure you still want to come?"
"Absolutely." I try to squeeze his hand with every reassurance. I would push through whatever pain presented itself tomorrow to be there for him. But that meant taking today for myself.
He smiles, his hand touching my cheek, finger brushing against my bottle lip, "My family's really excited to meet you. They're going to love you."
I don't know how to respond, but I don't have to.
I think he's going to kiss me, and for a moment, the pain fades a little, easily distracted by someone who makes me so fucking happy, it hurts.
But he doesn't kiss me, not fully, instead kissing my forehead and leaving me waiting for a kiss that might never come.
He kisses my hand, and steps outside my apartment and starts to leave. There is an ache in my chest that wants to scream out for him to stay. But I know this is the right thing for us. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? In this case, absence was making two hearts break just a little bit.
I know it seems silly, but before he disappears out of sight, I call for him, "Noah." He looks over his shoulder.
"Tell me something good?" I say with a hopeful smile, leaning against my doorframe to keep the pain out of my expression.
Noah flashes me a soft smile, "You're beautiful." And then he's gone.