Page 87 of Love Me
“He told my mom that they later found out the woman had type one diabetes and her insulin dropped while she was driving. She lost consciousness. She survived, and so did her daughter, but that was when I first realized that diabetes could be dangerous,” he continues.
“That night I asked my dad what diabetes was because you told me you had it but never talked about it. I hadn’t thought much about it. But hearing that someone could’ve died because of it scared the hell out of me. Because my best friend could get sick. I wanted to know how to help you if I needed to.”
I cock my head to the side. “You’ve never told me this.”
He moves my hand from his hair and presses a kiss to my knuckles.
“I had my dad stay up with me all night long while he explained to me what low blood sugar meant, and insulin levels. We watched videos of how to do insulin injections, even though you had a continuous pump at the time. I even had him teach me CPR just in case I ever needed to know how to do that.”
“Diego.”
“I wanted to be there for you if you ever needed me. I didn’t tell you because somehow, I knew you would tell me in your own time. I was okay with that,” he says casually.
How the hell could he have been so young and yet so attuned to my needs?
“Your illness was and never will be a burden to me. It’s a part of you, and I’m in love with every piece of you. I want all of you, Monique. Not just the convenient parts.”
My vision blurs.
He wipes away the first tear that falls with his thumb. “That wasn’t supposed to make you cry.”
I laugh. “What did you expect to happen when you say something like that to me?”
“There’s a few things I can think of.” He cups my face and kisses the tip of my nose. Then he presses his lips to the corners of my mouth. Finally, he kisses me where I want him to. It’s unhurried and tender.
Too tender.
I turn in his lap to straddle him. I pour everything into the kiss. A noticeable bulge rises in his pants.
He pulls back, hands still cupping my face. For a while he doesn’t say anything. Just continues to stare at me, searching my eyes. I search his as well. As much as I can see he wants me, there’s a hesitance that I don’t quite understand.
This is the same man who just declared his love for me. Hours earlier he told my parents that he was going to marry me. Now, there’s a look in his eyes of uncertainty or hesitancy or something that I can’t quite read.
He blinks and the expression disappears. I wonder if it wasn’t all in my head.
Before I can figure it out, we’re rising from the couch. I wrap my legs around his waist, and let him carry me to the bedroom.
* * *
I wake up hours later,wearing one of Diego’s T-shirts. When I turn over to run my hand across his chest, I find his side of the bed empty. The room is mostly dark save for some light streaming in from the slightly opened door.
A part of me wants to lay back down and wait for him to return to bed. But then I check the number on my watch. My blood sugar is low. I have to get up and find something to eat.
As soon as I exit the bedroom, I see light coming from the room down the hall. It’s Diego’s home office. After I go to the bathroom, I head for the kitchen. The first cabinet I check has my favorite granola bars. Boxes of them, in fact.
A smile creases my lips at seeing them all line up.
“Monique?” Diego’s worried voice calls behind me. “Are you okay? I heard you up and then I just checked my phone. Your numbers are low.”
I hold up the half-eaten granola bar. “I’m on it,” I reassure.
He pushes out a breath of relief. “I should’ve checked on you.”
I wave him off. “It’ll be okay in a few minutes. What were you doing in your office?”
“I had a phone call and didn’t want to disturb you.”
“A phone call? One of your exes looking to get back with you?” I tease.