When we get to our room, Hayden stumbles toward the bed and collapses. He curls up on his side, a pillow hugged to hischest. His breaths are coming hard and fast, like he can’t quite get enough oxygen in his lungs.
Gently, I reach for the one sandal that’s still dangling off his foot and set it on the floor where the other one fell off. Then I pull at the duvet so I can fold one half over his body. He sighs as I tuck the thick covers around him, turning him into a burrito.
“Sorry,” he murmurs as his breathing slows to something closer to normal.
Sitting next to him, I slide his hat off and run my fingers through his matted curls. His eyes drift shut as I pet him.
My heart aches for him. So much it feels like my chest might crack open. I wish there was more I could do. I wish we didn’t have to wait so long to see the therapist. It’s so hard to see him suffering like this. And if it’s this hard for me to watch him, I can’t imagine how much harder it is for him to actually live through it.
Leaning down, I plant a kiss on his head. “I’m gonna shower, ‘kay? I’ll be real quick.”
He nods silently and I rush into the bathroom to take the fastest shower in my life.
Hayden is in the exact same position when I come back out and I climb onto the bed with him, curling myself around his back. He snuggles down into me with a sigh. Gradually, the tension melts away and I think he falls asleep.
But he hasn’t. “What about your apartment?” he asks after an extended silence.
I don’t understand what he means at first. My apartment is his apartment… unless he wants me to get my own place in New York? My stomach sinks for a moment at the thought of Hayden not wanting to live with me. Then it clicks. “You mean my apartment in San Francisco?”
He nods. “And all your stuff.”
I haven’t really given it much thought, but what really is there to think about? “I’ll give up the apartment. There’s a new guy in Bellamy’s old room, so he can take over the lease. And I don’t have that much stuff. Most of the furniture belongs to the landlord.”
He falls silent again for a few minutes. “What about your family?”
He means my mom. Guilt sits like a rock around my neck every time I think about her. I haven’t spoken to her since that day. My sisters say she just needs time, that she’ll come around. I hope she will, but I’m not optimistic.
“Will you miss them?”
“Yeah, I will.” And I’m sure they’ll miss me too. But people live away from their families all the time. It doesn’t mean they don’t love each other or anything like that.
“What will you miss most?”
A pang of nostalgia hits me. As much as I gripe about them sometimes, I really do love hanging out with them. My cousins were some of my best friends growing up. My nieces and nephews are hilarious. I’m glad I’m from a tight-knit family. I just wish I had a little more breathing room.
A smile tugs on my lips as memories pop into my head. “Oh man, our family get-togethers are legendary. My parents have this industrial-sized barbecue and my dad really likes to do pulled pork and beef brisket.”
Hayden shifts, turning on his back so he can peer at me through his blond lashes. “Is that why you love meat so much?”
I laugh out loud. “Yeah, it probably is.”
Hayden’s lips curl into a smile and for the first time since we left New York, it actually looks genuine. His eyes crinkle a bit at the edges and the greens of his irises are a touch brighter.
“What else?”
It doesn’t take much thinking. “My mom’s potato salad is to die for. I swear to god she puts crack in it or something, it’s so good. And my sister Paola is like, a master baker. She does cakes, pastries, pies—basically anything that goes in an oven.”
My stomach gurgles loudly. Hayden and I stare at each other for a split second before both bursting out in laughter.
He ducks his chin, nearly disappearing into the duvet he’s wrapped up in. The laughter clears out some of the heavy darkness weighing him down and suddenly, he looks a little lighter, a little more alert.
Hayden’s laughter might be my favorite thing about him. I love how it sounds, low and rumbly, like a warm hug I want to wrap around myself. I love how it snaps him out of his spirals. I love how it lifts him up and makes him shine so brightly.
“You’re hungry?” he asks.
I shrug. “Meh. I can wait till dinner. Areyouhungry?”
Hayden shakes his head. I’m not surprised. He’s never hungry these days. He doesn’t eat much of the food I put in front of him. I know he’s trying, but he’s still losing weight.
