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Did you want to go?
“No! I was going to say no.”
Alek studied his face and then must have trusted the veracity of the answer because he wrote,Continue.
“You were sitting on the window sill, facing me. I… I just wanted to give us some space. I wanted to calm down first. I didn’t realize… You reached out for me. You asked me to stay, but I didn’t—I pulled my arm away and you fell.” Ian told him how the wisteria had saved him, how he thought Alek was dead, how he’d told him he would marry him and meant it.
When Ian finished, Alek grimaced.
“Are you in pain?”
“Ne.”
Ian read the words as Alek wrote them.You only wanted to marry me because you thought I’d die?
“No. I mean, the fall and seeing you like that… it was a contributing factor, but it made me realize how much I was willing to forgive if it meant I could have you forever. All of the fears I had, all of the things that happened between us were nothing compared to losing you. Does that make sense?”
“Da.” Alek tapped his pen against the page. He’d run out of space. Ian flipped it over to the unwritten side.
Alek wrote,I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’ve made so many mistakes.
Unsolicited apologies? Admitting he made a mistake? Maybe the brain damage was more severe than they'd thought.
“It’s okay,” Ian said.
Alek released a stream of unintelligible words. There was a no in there somewhere, if Ian heard correctly, but everything else was nonsense to him.
“You’re not speaking English, love,” Ian said as gently as he could.
Alek continued in Bulgarian anyway, a long diatribe with at least threeEbasiF-bombs. He put the back of his hand over his forehead, breathing fast, like he needed to catch his breath.
“Are you okay? Do you want the nurse?”
“Ne.” He sounded tired, defeated.I was trying to say what I’ve done… It's not okay. I don’t deserve you. Also, this stilted method of communication is annoying as fuck.
“You’re right. Itisannoying. I thought we’d never talk again, though, so small victories, right?”
Ian reached forward and ran his fingers through Alek’s hair. All the blood had been washed out. It felt dryer, rougher, like a very astringent soap was used to clean it, but it was still as shiny as raven feathers. Would the surgical incision leave a scar?
“Is this okay?” Ian asked.
“Da.” Alek closed his eyes and made a contented humming noise in his chest.
After a few moments, Ian said, “Everybody deserves love, Alek. Even you.”
Alek started writing again and Ian prepared for another round, but all he wrote was,Have you eaten?
Ian shook his head. “Are you hungry?”
When was the last time you had something to drink?
“Don’t worry about me.”
Now that he thought about it, hewasvery thirsty. He looked at the clock. It was nearly four in the morning.
Call the nurse and ask for water,Alek wrote.
A few moments later, a young woman slid the glass door open and pushed a metal cart into the room, her long, swishy, blonde ponytail bouncing behind her. On the cart were two small gray plastic pitchers of water and a piano keyboard.
