The one thing within my power, and I couldn’t fucking do it. I can’t read the map. I can’t guide us. I can’t watch out for rocks. All I can do is be led or be a liability.
“I need to focus on keeping us safe, not chatting.” He straightens, his body casting a shadow over me.
“I know. I’m sorry,” I repeat, my voice is a small tremor compared to the roar of emotions inside me. “I should have listened. We should have gone back like you suggested.”
He crouches beside me. “We can still turn around if this is too much for you.”
“It’s not me this is too much for.” Blinking back the sting of tears, I avert my gaze.
This isn’t the typical alertness he has when we run. Yes, he’s focused on my safety when we run together, but it isn’t like this. There, we’re a team, and I don’t feel like a team right now. I feel like dead weight that he’s tethered to.
“Baby.” He tucks his fingers beneath my chin and gently lifts. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you?—”
“No,” I sniffle, shaking my head. “Please don’t apologize. You’re right. You need to focus on guiding us. I need to listen… This shouldn’t be on you, and I’m sorry for that.”
“That’s not your fault?—”
“But it is.” I swipe at my eyes.
Stupid fucking tears!Just another thing I can’t control.
“With other women, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to worry about them tripping on a rock and falling off a cliff.”
“That could happen to anyone. Look at Anker and the corgis.”
“It’s not the same. That was a freak accident. You don’t have to guide Anker. You can just walk. Just like you could walk with other women.”
“I don’t want other women,” he hisses.
“It would be easier if I could…” I don’t let myself finish that sentence. Just forming that single word stabs pain within me.
As much as I’ve accepted this is how it is, there are times I wish I could see like everyone else. I don’t always feel this way, but there are moments. Like now, as I sit back pressed against a cliffside, where I wish I were different.
He cradles my face. “And if you could, I’d find something else to worry about. This has nothing to do with that.”
“It’s okay if it does.” I motion to myself. “I’m a lot to deal with at times.”
“You are. You never stop with the questions. You make up these ridiculous songs. Despite packing an overnight bag, you steal my hoodies to wear at my place, which you never return. These things drive me nuts, but they don’t change how I feel about you. In fact, they make me like you more. Even if I sometimes get frustrated with you, it’s never because of your vision, and I’m sorry I made you think for one minute that it was.”
“No…” I shake my head. “Please don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m… It’s just how it is. I’m not so naïve to think that it doesn’t impact things?—"
He silences me with a gentle kiss. “Listen to me, pretty girl, I do wish your vision was intact, and not because it would make my life easier, but yours. I want you to be able to see this view, not have it described poorly by your unpoetic boyfriend. I want you to see how I look when you walk into the room, so that you never fucking question how little interest I have in any woman but you.”
Every part of me wants to melt into this. Garrett won’t just tell me what he thinks will make me feel good. I know this. He’s not like all the people who have placated me with dismissive comments that “It’s just a joke” or “You’re taking this too seriously,” only to walk away.
“Like I said, I’ll worry about everything when it comes to anything that could make you not smile…” He releases a stuttered breath. “Anything that could take you away from me.”
“There are things that may, and will, do that.”
He makes a throaty, growly noise. “Don’t remind me.”
“Sorry.” I cup his cheek. “But it’s true… And there will be times my vision loss is part of those things. Like today.”
“It’s not?—”
“Not for you… For me,” I cut in. “Today, you worried about our safety, and while I thought about that too, my internal monologue was dominated by old insecurities. I just kept thinking how easy this would be for you if I were different.”
“I don’t want a different Jensen, I want you.” He claims my mouth. Like he wants to imprint himself on me, as if marking me so that there’s no uncertainty.
