Chapter71
Jamie
Istay in bed, listening to his movements — bathroom, running water, nervous footsteps, kettle, cupboard, the spoon stirring in a cup.
I can’t bring myself to get up, to meet his eyes, or even say a single word.To end it all.
The ache of letting him go is unbearable — yet I’m too weak to beg him to stay.
I spent the night staring at the closet, fighting the urge to run and hide, desperate not to be found.
The Doctor didn’t sleep well either.I heard him shifting around, his breathing heavy.He could feel it too — the beginning of the end.
I force myself to swing my legs on the side of the bed, pick up my briefs, and pull them on with reluctance.I have to do it now, before he grabs onto something again, before he digs in, before he starts pitying me.
I walk into the kitchen; he’s sitting on a stool at the counter, his back to me as he stares into his coffee.I move forward, dragging my feet, my heart, and my whole life.Finally, I reach him and stop just behind his shoulder.
The Doctor senses my presence and slowly turns from his coffee to face me.“I woke you up.”
I shake my head.
“I couldn’t sleep.I didn’t want to disturb you, so I came to the kitchen to make myself a coffee.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I didn’t want to invade your space.”
My space, Doctor?You invaded every inch of my fucking life.How the hell am I supposed to cut you out without tearing myself apart?
“Is everything okay?”
I don’t answer.I can’t even breathe.
“Hey.”He stands up from the stool and steps closer.He reaches out, hand lifting to gently caress my face, but I pull back, avoiding his touch.
Don’t forgive me, Doctor.I don’t deserve it.
“What…?”
I shake my head again and step away from him, deliberately widening the distance between us.
“I think I missed a few steps.What happened between I want to make love to you and I don’t want you to touch me?”
God, Doctor.How can I tell you what I am, what I’ve done, what I’ve caused?How do I tell you about my life, my guilt, what I carry with me, things I swore, many years ago, never to reveal?
Years of silence and lies, of words stuck in my throat.
Years spent hiding in darkness, burdened by a pain I refuse to pass on.
“Jesus, speak to me.”
I want to scream until there is nothing left inside me.How could you still love me, then?How could I ever love you?
You won’t hear my story, Doctor.I don’t want to be one of your lost causes.I don’t want your pity or your compassion.
All I want is your love.
But there’s no love without trust, without letting go.
