He sighed. “My therapist also says that I can’t be a mind-reader and I can’t expect you to be a mind-reader. And so I should believe what you say when you say it. But it’s…hard.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to believe there’s any joy in any of this.”
“Thereis,” I insisted. “It gave me joy to hear you hung out with Jamal. I’m sure it gave him joy to hang out with you. We both love you, you know?” I’d blurted the words before I even became really aware of them being in my head, but now my breath stuttered to a stop. Whoa.
Whoa, wait. What had just come out of my mouth?
Hen was blinking at me owlishly, obviously trying to figure out why I’d just physically recoiled from him. “Jamie?”
I’d said I loved him. And, I mean, that wasn’twrong, but it was also a fuck of a lot to put on him right now. Then again, going by his confusion, maybe he hadn’t even caught the slip. “I, uh,” I stuttered.
Deny? Retract? Pretend it hadn’t happened?
Or…own up to it? Maybe it would hearten him to hear it?
Fuck. This felt like a decision that could go really wrong, really fast.
“Jamison.” His face went carefully neutral and his hand landed on my shoulder. He gave it a squeeze. “Relax. I know you didn’t mean it like that.”
Oh, good, he was assuming I’d been…exaggerating, or whatever. No, wait, not good. Bad? Neutral? Maybe I should just agree with him, even if neither of us actually believed what we were saying. But that felt like lying, and he’d just been talking about how his therapist was urging him to be open.
But what if he freaked out.
Goddammit. The silence had gone on too long and was now officially he’ll-read-bad-things-into-it long. I gulped and opened my mouth. “I d-”
Before the words could get all the way out of my mouth, he jumped up off the couch and started pacing. “This is what I meant by it being too much,” he grated out, spiking his fingers through his hair and dislodging his ponytail. “You’re obviously freaked the hell out by this conversation.”
“That’s not -”
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to build me up and make up stories and stuff.”
“I didn’t -”
“Or say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better.”
“Hen!” I snapped, clapping my hands loudly to interrupt him. Somewhere on the other side of the room, a startled cat yowled and took off running.
He abruptly stopped pacing and faced me, hand still in his hair and tugging. “What?”
“You’re catastrophizing,” I said as calmly as I could manage. “Stop it.”
“I’m…” He blinked at me. “What?”
Fuck it. I was going to brazen this out. It was the only way we might come out of this without him losing his shit. “I said I loved you, I didn’t offer you a kidney,” I blurted.
“Huh?” He blinked again, more slowly this time, and drifted closer to the couch, looking a little lost and forlorn.
“It’s possible for people to love you, you know,” I informed him, arching an eyebrow. “You’re a lovable person.”
He stared at me, then pointed at his own chest. “Me? The guy who’s a mess and bringing you along for the ride?”
“It’s a good ride,” I shot back. “It’s fun. The companionship is A-plus. And it hasn’t made me barf yet. So yes, you.”
He opened his mouth as if to speak, but what came out was a bitter laugh. “You’re insane.”
“Hey, fuck you!” I retorted, annoyed by his resistance. “I’m not insane, I don’t have bad judgment, and I haven’t, I don’t knowwhat else you’re thinking, signed on to back a losing horse. I am a perfectly functional adult human being who happens to be in love with another mostly-functional adult human being who, yes, has a health condition, but so do millions of other people in love around the world. And you wouldn’t say someone was crazy for loving them, would you?”
“Well, I mean, no, but -”
“Eh!” I made a buzzer noise, interrupting his protest. “No buts. I get to say who I love. You don’t have to love me back - I can’t make you - but in the same vein, you can’t stop me. So sit down, shut up, and be loved!” I smacked the empty cushion of the couch beside me and glared at him.
