At some point, Kris and the nurse poke their heads through the door, probably because of the noise. Luckily, Cade doesn’t see them, and I’m able to wave them away. They also close the door behind them, which feels like a relief.
It can’t be good for him to cry like this with a head injury, but I’m not going to try to stop him. We sit together like that for a long time. I don’t say anything, because the only thing I could say would be “it’s okay,” and it’s not okay. So instead I sit with him, and let him cycle through whatever he’s feeling until he finally calms.
The calm is so short lived I don’t get the chance to say anything, because Cade immediately launches into a coughing fit. It scares the hell out of me, but I try to get him sitting upright and make sure the little oxygen tube is in the right position under his nose. Just when I’m about to panic and call for someone, the coughing fades away, and Cade takes some deep, shaky breaths through his nose.
“Dude, can you pass me a tissue or something, please? I’m a fucking mess over here.”
Only Cade would call me ‘dude’ in this moment. It’s so ridiculous I almost laugh, but it’s intrinsically him.
“Sure,” I say, but I grab him gently at the back of the neck and kiss his messy curls before I do.
He blows his nose and swipes at his bloodshot eyes for a second, while I watch him on high alert, certain he’s about to start coughing again. I’m trying not to flash back to the ambulance, when he started gasping for breath, barely conscious, and they stuck a giant fucking needle into him to let the air out that was keeping him from breathing.
The memory still claws at me, though, and I realize I’m the one tearing up. God, I hate this.
When I look up again, Cade is staring at me.
“Hey,” he says.
His hand, trailing IV tubing, reaches out for mine and I take it gratefully. We hold onto each other, content to sit in silence for a little while longer.
“I’m sorry,” he says, breaking the tension. “That sounds stupid and like it’s not enough, but I wanted to say it anyway.”
I nod, scared to open my mouth because I don’t know what will come out. My throat feels tight, and words aren’t coming to me.
“I don’t want to be like this. I spend all this energy trying to make your life easier and better, and somehow I turned into this giant weight that’s just dragging you down. I’m sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”
“Cade, don’t—” I lose track of what I’m trying to say for a minute.
All I know is that it’s great he’s acknowledging that he’s been shitty, but I hate that he’s already acting like some kind of failure to me. Like this is all about me, all the time. I want him to be better forhim, because he deserves it. But I don’t know how to say it.
“Loving you is not a chore, Cade.” My voice cracks a little as I say it, but I hold his gaze the entire time. “It’s not some kind of horrible burden that you have to pay me back for by taking care of me. I want you to stop doing this because it feels like you’re hurting yourself, or taking something out on yourself. And you don’t deserve that, because no one does—not because it’s an imposition on me.”
Cade stares at me with wide eyes, and it’s surreal to see my chatterbox stunned into silence.
“I need you to stop hurting the person I love. That’s all I want.”
For a second, I think he’s going to start crying again, but he just sniffs and sits there for a second.
“Okay, baby. Okay. Whatever you want.”
Kind of missing the point, but it’s better than nothing. Maybe now’s the time to say it.
“And I need you to trust me to take care of myself more. I know I’m fucked up, and I probably scare you sometimes. But I hatethat it’s become your entire life mission. I have help. You worked hard to make sure I did. And I still have weird days, but I am getting better. We always say we save each other but it doesn’t need to turn into this kamikaze mission, where I’m anxious so you’re stressed and trying to fix it so you neglect yourself which makes me stressed and on and on and on. We have real problems. We don’t need to be making more for ourselves.”
Cade chews on his lip, nodding absently. I wait for him to process, because I really want to see what he has to say.
“I think I’ve been being stupid for a long time, huh?”
I sigh. “It’s not stupid, Cade. You’re hurting. But you pretend you aren’t, and it makes it worse.”
He looks up at me, and there’s vulnerability brimming in his eyes.
“What should I do? Can you just tell me what to do please? I’m so tired, and I don’t want to be like this anymore.”
“I don’t know. But if we can afford all this therapy for me, then I don’t see why we can’t afford it for you, as well. Maybe just to start.”
Cade nods, looking small and fragile in a way that makes me want to scoop him up.
