“I know you’re awake,” I say, sitting on the edge of the mattress.
“I’m not,” he argues from under the covers. I can only see the top of his head. “Please go away.”
That stings, but I soldier on.
“I’ve been worried, Antonio. Sick with it.”
A muffled sniff.
“I didn’t mean to worry you. You still need to leave.”
“Why should I leave?”
“Because.”
“Can you be more specific? I’m a law student, I need a better argument than because.”
“Because I want you to!”
I close my eyes. Count to three.
“There is no way in hell I’m leaving,” I say steadily.
He lowers his blanket.
He’s been crying.
His eyes are red-rimmed and raw.
My heart twists, aching without knowing why.
“You can’t stay here if I don’t want you to,” he whispers.
“But that’s not the case here, is it? I’ve heard from a very reliable source that you don’t actually want me to leave you alone.”
He sits up, his hair a wild mess.
“That’s preposterous.”
“Is it?”
“Hearsay,” he says, nodding. “I object.”
He looks more vulnerable than ever. I want to comfort him, soothe him, make it all better.
If he only let me.
“Can you please tell me what’s going on?” I ask.
“There’s no point. I already know you won’t believe me.”
“I know you don’t mean to hurt me, but I’m at the end of my tether. I’ve been really fucking worried.”
His eyes flash with fury.
“If your tether’s ended, the door is right there!”
I laugh, but it’s a sad, tired sound.
