"That's great news," Ben said, feeling a surge of hope. It seemed that things were moving in a positive direction.
"It's still early days," Amelia cautioned, as if reading his thoughts. "I don't want to get too excited about it. There have been other times when I felt better for a little bit, only to crash again later."
Ben reached across the table and touched her hand. “The crashes don’t negate the good moments. Let’s celebrate those and take the not-so-great moments as they come.”
"I'm still getting used to the idea that this is… permanent,” she said as she lifted a fry from the container in front of her. “That there won't ever be a cure, just management."
Ben watched her carefully, noting the slight tightening of her mouth as she spoke. She was clearly wrestling with the reality of her situation in a way she hadn't been before. The diagnosis had forced her to confront what she'd been avoiding.
All the information he’d read in the binder had made him hopeful that there would be a way for her to live a full life that wasn’t always dominated by pain and fatigue. He understood that she’d have good and bad days, but he viewed what he’d learned as a positive thing.
It hadn’t occurred to him that she might still have been hoping for a complete recovery.
“I’m sorry that the news wasn’t better on that front,” he said, taking in her downcast face. “I truly wish that they had been able to pinpoint something that had a definite cure.”
“I had an idea what might be happening in my body,” she said with a dejected shrug. “I guess I just hoped that I was wrong.”
“That’s understandable,” Ben said, trying to console her.
For the past week, as he’d dealt with his dad’s situation, he’d been focused forward. They had information. They knew what she was dealing with. They had a plan for treatment.
It was only now that he was realizing that she was still mourning what she’d lost, even as she took tentative steps forward in this new, unwanted chapter of her life.
He searched for the words to say to offer encouragement without downplaying how she was feeling, but he couldn’t find them. Even with all the money in the world, he couldn’t help lift this burden from the woman he loved.
Ben wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so helpless. But what he needed her to know was that however her journey unfolded, he’d be at her side.
As he watched her across the table, he could see that her spark was dimmed. In fact, it seemed like she was the lowest he’d seen her yet. And it had nothing to do with her pain and fatigue levels.
“What can I do to help you?” he asked. Since he was clueless, he needed her to guide him.
She looked up at him, her gaze heavy with sadness and defeat.
“I need space.”
Ben’s breath caught in his chest. “Space?”
“I know you want a relationship, Ben,” she said, her words spoken with careful softness. “But I need time. I thought finding out what was happening with my body would make things easier, but I’m struggling.”
“And you want to struggle alone?” Ben asked.
She looked away. Her gaze grew distant as she stared at the lake. “It’s not just that.”
“Then what else is there?” Ben asked. “I love you and want to help you through this.”
“I know you do,” she said, her eyes meeting his again. “And I love you, but I can’t be in a lopsided relationship.”
He wanted to focus only on what she’d said about loving him, but he couldn’t. “What do you mean?”
“You can support and be there for me, but apparently I can’t do the same for you.”
Ben frowned. “Why would you say that?”
She stared at him. “Because it happened already.”
He had a sinking feeling in his stomach as it dawned on him what she was talking about. “My dad?”
She gave a single nod. “I’m not saying you were wrong to say that it was better I stay here. In fact, you were probably right.”
