Page 82 of Perfect Guy
“I should get going,” Joy says.
I open my eyes and look at her. “Okay.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow. If you need anything, call me.” She stands and kisses my cheek, carefully hugging my right side to avoid my casted arm.
“Okay.”
Once she leaves, Madelyn returns and stands in the middle of the living room.
“Do you want me to go, too?” She shifts on her feet, bottom lip sliding between her teeth.
Nervous energy surrounds her. I don’t even know what I want. Being alone will bore me to death, but having company isn’t much better.
“I’ll go,” she says when I don’t respond.
“Sorry,” I say.
She looks at me. “Don’t be. I get it. I’ll call you later. I’ll understand if you’re not up for talking, but I’ll want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I feel like I’m not much fun to be around.”
That stops her as she heads to the kitchen. Turning, she glares at me.
“I don’t expect you to be fun right now. I don’t care about that. Don’t you realize that I’m here because I want to be, because you’re the most important person in my life? I don’t want you only when you’re happy. When I committed to this relationship, it was for the good and the bad, Canaan.” She walks back until she’s standing in front of me. I look up at her, spotting the tears in her eyes.
“This sucks. I hate it for you, not me. I hate that you’re suffering, and I can’t do anything but sit by your side and make sure you’re doing what you need to in order to recover. I hate not knowing how long you’ll be suffering. I love you, don’t you get it?” She yells, throwing her hands in the air.
I stare at her as tears stream down her face. I can’t tell her those words. Not anymore, not now. I don’t know what will become of me, what my long-term effects are. I don’t want her staying by my side, taking care of me when she has so much to give the world, so much to explore and live. She needs to visit a tropical island and lay on the beach without a care in the world.
When I remain silent, she shakes her head, body trembling. I watch her grab her bag and walk away. The echoing sound of my front door slamming vibrates against the walls.
Everything in my life is falling apart, and I’m not strong enough to pick up the pieces and glue them back together.