My lips crashed into his, my hands cradling his face to keep him close. I felt his shock before he molded his mouth to mine, his tongue sweeping in to taste my sorrow, my regret, my fear that I had come so close to losing him permanently.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered the words against his lips. “I’m sorry you were ever in that much pain. I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel safe enough to tell me.”
A warm tear slid down his cheek and it felt like acid when it hit my hand. I fucking hated that I was the cause of it. I kissed him again, infusing it with every drop of remorse and sincerity I had. When we pulled back, we were both breathing hard and gripping at each other with quiet desperation.
“Come here,” I ordered softly, pulling him to stand with me. I crawled up to recline on his bed, holding out my arm for him to do the same. He hesitated slightly, but the second he laid down I tugged him to me, wrapping him in my arms and guiding his head to my chest. I inhaled his fresh, clean scent, and a rightness settled in my bones having him next to me again.
I didn’t let myself think of what we’d do about this tomorrow or where we’d go from here. I only cared about the beautiful, broken man in my arms and giving him what he needed most right then.
“Why were you so scared to tell me about your illness, Theo? How could you think I would have ever stopped loving you because of it?”
He squirmed in my hold, so I raked my fingers along his scalp to soothe him, pulling a breathy sigh from his lips.
“Did I ever tell you about my aunt Shannon?”
“Um, no? I don’t think so. Why?”
“She was my mom’s sister. Mom told me she was a total nerd and really smart, but was also always bubbly and cracking jokes. I only got to meet her a couple of times growing up, but when I’d ask about her at family gatherings, everyone was really sketchy about her. They would give vague reasons she couldn’t be there and would change the subject whenever she’d come up. Mom and Dad didn’t tell me the truth about her until I was sixteen.”
“She had bipolar disorder, didn’t she?”
“Yeah. She had been diagnosed in college. They told me she’d have periods where she was able to manage and do really great, but something would inevitably happen that would spin her out of control. She’d lose her job and disappear for months at a time before calling Mom up and letting her know she was settled again and feeling healthy. It was a seemingly endless pattern with her until…”
His body tightened against mine and I ran my hand up and down his back. “Until what?”
“Something changed apparently. Shannon had been holding a steady job for a couple of years, even got married and was thinking about children. Mom was thrilled for her. Then her husband called one day and told her that Shannon was dead. They’d found her in a hotel an hour away.”
“Jesus Christ,” I breathed, hugging Theo to me a bit tighter. “What happened?”
“The husband told mom that Shannon had been cheating on him for a few months, had quit her job, been partying and taking drugs. She’d moved out of their house and was hotel hopping, and I guess it got to be too much for her. She left a note, saying that she was tired of fighting and just wanted to have some peace.”
Theo’s voice broke and it ripped into me. I pressed a kiss to his temple and wished like hell I knew what to do to make it better for him. It was becoming clearer where the root of Theo’s fear came from.
“What your aunt went through was unimaginable,” I started to say, continuing to rub his back in soothing circles. “I hate that she felt so lost that she thought that was the best way out, but Theo…you are not her. Her story isn’t yours.”
“But don’t you fucking see it could be?” he barked, ripping out of my hold and leaping off the bed. “Mom could barely look at me once she found out my diagnosis. She was so paranoid that I’d turn out like Shannon that she shoved me into rehab three times, forced me to take meds that I despised, and regulated every minute of my life until she felt satisfied I was “normal” again. And honestly, I don’t blame her. Sometimes I hate her for it, but I get it. What makes me any different from Shannon?”
I jumped up and rounded the bed, trying not to let it show how much it hurt when he stepped back from me.
“I’ll be the first to admit I don’t know much about mental illness, but Idoknow that not everyone experiences it the same way. Do you even know why her cycles were that bad? What triggered them? Was she on and off meds, or did she take them at all? There could be a hundred reasons her story turned out that way, and you could do the exact same things and still have yours turn out differently.”
“It’s more than that. This is a lifelong disease, Dawson. There is no cure. There is no break from it. I have to live with it every day, never knowing when the switch will flip. When I found out, all I could think was how it would affect us. I was scared that when you looked at me, you’d only see the ‘bipolar boy’ like everyone else would. Or worse, maybe you’d stand by me anyway and I’d do something unforgivable when I was fucking manic and drive you away like Shannon had done to her husband.”
“And you decided to take the easy way out and push me away on your own terms?”
“Yes, because at least you would have been happy! There was nothing I could do but accept it, but you had a chance at something better.”
“So what? You just gave up?”
Theo’s expression sobered, snagging my ring around his neck and fiddling with it. Knowing now what it truly meant to him, what it had done for him, clenched at my heart.
“You don’t know what it’s like to have your brain turn against you, to be terrified that one day you’ll hear that voice telling you to end it all and you won’t be able to fight it. You don’t know how fucked up it is that I crave the highs that get me into so much trouble because the lows just hurt too damn much. I’m left waiting from one day to the next for my control to be taken from me and turn me into someone I don’t recognize…”
He stepped closer and my pulse kicked up.
“Someone who would rather be coked out of his mind than deal with reality, or who would go out on a jetski after drinking because of a jealous fit?—”
He was close enough now that his body heat seeped into my skin. My eyes fluttered close when his finger traced over the light freckles that dusted my cheeks.
