“Here, it isn’t like in America. We don’t talk about mental health. It is taboo. I only just told my mother tonight. I sufferedalone for so long.” Dario stares down at his hands, which have calmed a bit.
“Hey,” Charlie says, stepping nearer. He pulls Dario close. “You’re not alone. I’m here. I want to be here for you. Tell me what to do to help.” Charlie squeezes tighter.
“You being here already helps,” Dario says. “Exposure therapy is supposed to help, too.”
“What’s that?” Charlie asks.
“It’s a form of therapy where I confront my fears. I go to places I haven’t been or have been and had a panic attack before, allow the anxiety to come, and try to push through.” Dario takes another ragged, much-needed inhale. His brain thanks him by quieting a little.
His therapist introduced exposure therapy to him not long after his failed proposal. He made sure Dario knew how important it was to choose recovery so he could live a full life.
Dario was praised when he went sailing again for the first time, and his therapist almost cheered when he went back to the factory. But then his grandfather got sicker, and Dario remembered that the world was a scary place that took more than it gave.
He pushed recovery to the back of his mind and focused on learning everything he needed to know before his grandfather passed.
“Exposure therapy sounds uncomfortable,” Charlie says, as if he’d battle away every discomfort in the universe for Dario if he asked. But he couldn’t. Hewouldn’tbecause…
“I miss the world, Charlie,” Dario says through an unmistakable break in his voice. It’s not a break of defeat, though; it’s emotional defiance. He does not want to let his sometimes-traitorous brain run the show any longer. “Coming inside this train station a week ago would have been unmanageable, but I want to get better, and I had to find you.I was so worried that you were gone or hurt or worse. I…” He clutches tight to Charlie’s soft shirt. “I like you, Charlie. More than I expected to like anyone who showed up through this wild stunt my nonno concocted, yet here you are, and I can’t deny how I feel.”
“I like you, too,” Charlie says. He clings closer, yet he looks away. A divot forms in his brow.
“What’s wrong?” Dario asks.
Charlie steps away so swiftly Dario nearly tears the shirt right off Charlie’s back.
“You shouldn’t like me,” Charlie announces.
“Who says?” Dario asks.
“I say.”
“How come?”
“Because… I’ve been dishonest,” Charlie says. He backs up to the door, knocks his head against it, glistening eyes cast up at the ceiling.
“Dishonest how?” Dario asks, stomach shriveling up with nerves. Ansel proved they did not do their due diligence when it came to background checks.
“The bank is going to foreclose on my house,” Charlie says.
Between the noxiously humming fan overhead and the pounding of his heart in his ears, it takes Dario a moment to connect what Charlie has said with the situation. “Your family home?”
Charlie nods. Then shakes his head. Then nods again. “The day I found out was the day I saw the call for contest entries. When I noticed your net worth, I thought, ‘That’s the kind of money that could save us.’ Without that house, we would have nowhere to go. Before six days ago, you were just a dollar sign to me, a blank check, and that was wrong. You deserve better than that.”
“Charlie…” Dario’s mind flings to Nonno’s letter about his first love. A tightness takes up in his chest. But he can’t forget about his earlier thoughts of helping Michelle start a fashion line. He has money, and marriage would mean he’d share it with his spouse. Charlie should not feel guilty for needing help.
Maybe he and Charlie are alike in that giving voice to their anxieties does not come naturally. But perhaps that’s a good thing. Something they can work on together.
“No, please. I can’t put that on you.” Charlie berates himself. “I had plenty of time to think while I was stuck here, and I realized I’ve behaved badly. My parents work so hard and my grandparents have been through so much that I wanted to take this burden on for them and shield them from any fallout. But the bank came knocking and now they’re panicked. And I’m falling for you. I like you too much to ask you to take on our problems when you have your own.”
“Thank you for your honesty,” Dario says, unsure what to think or how to feel. Today has been a cyclone of conflicting emotions, but he wants to see the bright side. Thereisa golden light at the end of this, he can sense it. “I think it would be best if we continued this discussion tomorrow, once we’ve rested. We have both had hard days. You must be exhausted. We can come back to this fresh.”
Charlie hesitates, then nods. “That sounds good.”
Dario grabs Charlie by the hand, and they exit the bathroom.
TWENTY
CHARLIE
