Page 89 of Perfect Guy

“Bullshit excuse,” she calls me out.

I hate it when Joy doesn’t back down from something. She’ll go on and on about this.

“You don’t.” My argument is weak, but I’m too tired, and a headache is forming near my temples.

“I know a thing or two about sticking next to the person you love when they’re going through a hard time. Or did you forget about the shit Brayden and his family went through?” My eyes are closed, but I bet she’s arching an eyebrow.

“This is different. Brayden wasn’t sick, injured, whatever. He doesn’t have long-term effects that changed him. I do. I could. You heard the doctor today. I’m healing, sure, but what about the possibility of suffering from depression later on? Or the fact that my short-term memory may never be the same. What if I have kids and can’t remember the fucking name twenty minutes after? Or if I’m watching my kid alone and forget about him or her, putting them in danger?” I look at her now.

All of these are real fears.

Hell, I can’t remember when someone tells me they’re stopping by sometimes or why I walked into the kitchen. My mind is foggy. I can’t put anyone at risk because of that.

“You’re making a mountain out of an anthill. You don’t know if you’ll have those long-term effects yet.”

“But it’s a risk,” I throw back.

Joy lets out a growl. “You’re so fucking stubborn.” Her fists tighten around the steering wheel. She takes an exit, the car jerking with the sudden movement.

“What the hell are you doing?” I grip the handle on the door.

“Stopping so we can have an actual conversation. If I’m frustrated and focusing on you, I’m not focusing on the road.” She finds a parking lot near the exit and turns into it, parking the car.

Joy removes her seatbelt and faces me. “Canaan, you’re my big brother. I love you. I don’t want to think about long-term effects and negative reactions to this.” Tears swim in her eyes.

“I get that it’s a possibility, and we have to be prepared, but we don’t have to put our energy into that. You have a life to live, the chance to love. Don’t miss out on that because you feel like you don’t deserve it.” She reaches for my hand, squeezing it.

“Madelyn misses you. She calls me daily to ask how you’re doing, but she’s giving you space. She feels you’re being distant, and that hurts.”

I shake my head, my jaw working overtime.

“She doesn’t need to take care of me.” I look away and out the windshield.

“She wants to. Give her the choice. You can’t control this, control what someone feels no matter how much you try to push her away.”

“She’ll move on eventually,” I say dismissively. It kills me to think about her with anyone else.

“What if she doesn’t? You’re causing both of you pain unnecessarily. If the tables were turned, would you leave her? Would you have this same mentality about her injuries?” Joy shakes her head, disappointment reflecting in her eyes.

“Because it seems like you would by the way you’re acting. That tells me you don’t give a shit about her. She was fun for a ride, and then what? When you really care and love someone, you’re there for the good and bad, the pain and happiness. You don’t bail when things get hard because if you do, then that was never love.”

Anger fills me that she’d think this about me. “I’d never fucking leave her because she was injured. Hell, she could be paralyzed, never able to walk again, and I’d be by her side. You don’t know shit.” My voice is loud, my hands shaking.

“Then let her do the same.” Joy matches my level, not backing down.

“It’s not a one-way street, Cane. If you’d be there for her, then stop being a hypocrite and allow her to support you now.”

I know Joy has a point.

“I don’t want to bring more pain. I haven’t been myself, and I snap, my mood irritable. She doesn’t deserve that,” I confess.

“Oh, Cane.” Joy smiles sadly. “Talk to her, communicate. It’s the most important thing in a relationship. If Madelyn knows how you’re feeling, what you’re going through, then she can be there for you and support you the way you need.”

“What if she gets fed up? Can’t handle it all? I can barely stand myself. Why would she?” I shake my head, looking away.

“Because she loves you. Give her the chance to. Madelyn grew up with two older brothers and three older cousins. I think she can hold her own in any situation, but you need to give her a chance. This isn’t permanent. There’s no proof you’ll suffer from these things the rest of your life. You deserve to be happy. What makes you happy?”

The response to her question is easy. I’ve never been happier than when I was with Madelyn.