“There’s company-ready and then there’s functional-human,” he shot back. “You’re not either at the moment, as best I can tell. You want to tell me what’s going on? All I know is you scared the shit out of little man over here and he called me in.” He gestured to Jamison, who scowled, whether at being calledlittle manor with disapproval over my state, I didn’t know.
Did I want to tell him what was going on? No. No, I most decidedly did not. “Nothing’s going on.”
Jamison snorted.
I glared at him. Why the hell was he even here?
He glared right back, then softened his eyes. “You don’t have to tell him the whole story, Hen, but we’re both worried about you now. You don’t look like you’re doing so good, you know?”
I let out ahmphnoise. “I’m fine. You guys should go.”
“Why?” Jamal challenged. “We’ve already seen the mess. Let’s clean it up a little and Jamison and I will hang out for a bit.” He narrowed his eyes. “You know, if you’re totally fine and all.”
Goddammit. Couldn’t a man wallow in his despair for a few days without people crashing in to try to socialize with him? I would have pulled myself out of it. Eventually. Probably.
Meanwhile, Jamison didn’t wait for me to ok the idea; he charged into the kitchen and retrieved a trash bag. “Litter boxes first, because yeah, no.”
“Seriously.” Jamal wrinkled his nose. “Cat ownership can get gross.”
I felt like I was the straight man dropped into the middle of a comedy routine. What the fuck was I supposed to do now?
Oblivious to my consternation, Jamison and Jamal continued their back-and-forth while they scooped leftovers and cat litter clumps into the trash bag. The words didn’t really penetrate; I didn’t think it really mattered that they didn’t, judging by how the two of them kept the conversation going. Eventually, I wandered back to the couch and sat down while they continued to move around me.
The cushion beside me sank down, startling me out of my thoughts. “You wanna tell me what’s going on now?” Jamal asked softly.
“No,” I said honestly. I really didn’t. Speaking it would make it more real, and fuck that.
He ignored that. “Because Jamison was scared shitless for you, and I know you wouldn’t do that even to someone you didn’t want to see anymore if you knew they were legit worried.”
I snorted. “I’d do it to Ramsey in a heartbeat.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, fuck Ramsey. He doesn’t count.”
Ah, shit, Ramsey. I still hadn’t called to alert him to my diagnosis. I knew I needed to, but goddamnthat was going to be a bit much, you know? I sighed, and Jamal shot me the side-eye.
“Look,” he said, settling back into the couch and reaching up to pet Solo, who was laid out across the back near his shoulder, “let’s not get sidetracked. You’ve been radio silent for, apparently, five days. You look like you haven’t showered or cleaned in at least that long. I know you well enough to know something is very wrong, ok? You need to unload it on either me or your boyfriend - or maybe both - so why don’t you just do that and we’ll go forward from there.”
I still didn’t want to say it out loud. I shook my head. “Jamison already knows.”
“He said you got bad news, but he wouldn’t tell me what that meant. I’m gonna need you to tell me, bro, because I’m officiallyworried as hell and not leaving until we get you doing at least somewhat better.”
I chewed my lip. He’d need to know sooner or later, if only for his own safety in case I ever, like, cut myself near him. But I couldn’t get the words out. Once again, they just wouldn’t come. I closed my eyes for a long second, then reached for my phone. I navigated to my patient portal and pulled up the test results, then silently handed the phone to him.
“What’s -” he said, but accepted the phone automatically when I shoved it at him. His eyes dropped to the screen, reading, and there was a moment of silence before he sucked in a breath. “Oh, shit. Oh,shit.”
Yeah, that about summed it up. I took the phone back from him when he pushed it toward me, my eyes on the floor. I didn’t really want to see his expression, whether it was pain, fear, or judgment.
“How long have you known?” he asked quietly.
I shrugged. “Got the first result about two weeks ago. Verified it a few days ago.”
“Do you…feel ok? I mean, physically? Are you sick?”
“I’m fine,” I said with a shake of my head. “Well, I mean, as fine as…you know.” Was he judging me? Was he afraid to be near me? Should I move away?
“Ok, good,” he breathed, sagging back into the couch. “Fuck.”
“You told him?” asked a voice over my shoulder. I jumped. I’d been so focused on Jamal’s reaction that I’d forgotten Jamison was still puttering around. Apparently he’d stopped puttering, and he was now leaning over the back of the couch to put his head between us.
