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A huge part of me wished Sean wanted me with him tomorrow to share this important moment in his life. But he didn’t propose it. I wasn’t even sure it was on his mind. And it hurt—him not wanting me there or not thinking to offer. But it was a selfish desire, and deep down in my heart, where honest feelings budded and flourished, it was more important to me that Sean was getting this chance for himself than having my own part in it.
So, as I left the bathroom, I didn’t allow that disappointment to fester. I thought about what this was going to mean to him instead.
And as I thought about it, feeling good, feeling excited for him, I realized Sean was booking it through my apartment, steps fast and heavy, like he was suddenly in a rush to get out of here.
Did I mess something up?
“Hey!” I lunged forward and grasped his elbow, giving it a tug until Sean stopped retreating and turned back, a step away from the door. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” I asked him.
His face was tense, then he registered my meaning and shook his head sharply, once. “I just gotta go,” he said.
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yes, why? Do you have plans? Do you need to go do something?”
He stared at me, and I knew his answer without him speaking it.
Maybe he didn’t know…
“You don’t have to leave, Sean. I’m not asking you to leave. You can stay. We can…I don’t know, watch TV or something. Do you want to do that with me?”
Still, he said nothing. Just kept staring.
I begged, please stay, inside my head. I almost said the words out loud. I was desperate for him to know he could be here. That he could always be here.
Awareness came on abruptly. My eyes began to sting, because I realized that was it. He didn’t think he deserved what I was giving. Sean didn’t think he was good enough for this, for my company. For spending time with me and hearing me tell him things like you can stay, and this is you, I like it. He didn’t think he was worth it.
“Sean,” I whispered.
He tugged out of my hold and pleaded, “Stop,” his voice beaten down and broken.
I imagined him, beaten down and broken. A child unloved.
Then he took a step back, turned, and walked out. I touched my fingers to my mouth while I stared at the door. I almost walked away.
But that was not the person I was.
“Sean!” I hollered, twisting the knob and swinging the door open. Then seeing him standing there and not expecting him to be, I doubled back.
Sean was facing the door. His head was down, his chest was moving quickly, and his hands were clenched into fists at his side.
“Hey,” I spoke softly and reached for him, but he stepped back.
I wanted to reach out again, even further this time. Fighting that urge was a difficult one, but I managed, and instead waited.
Seconds blurred into minutes, then finally…
“I’m nothin’,” he whispered to the ground, with more pain in his voice than I’d ever heard pour out of a person before.
Oh, God.
“Sean…”
He lifted his head. There were tears in his eyes.
“I deserve nothin’,” he continued. “Sure as fuck nothin’ good anymore. And that’s not ever gonna change, no matter what the fuck I do, or what you say or what anybody fuckin’ says. I know that now. You need to quit lookin’ at me like I’m worth lookin’ at. I’m not. I’m nobody. I’m nothin’ to nobody. A fuckin’ fuckup. Tell me to leave.” He rushed out a breath. His eyes lost focus on the floor between us, then he whispered this time—he pleaded, “Tell me to leave, Shayla. Tell me I’m nothin’, so I can leave.”
Breath catching with emotion, I bit the tremble in my lip and shook my head.
He’d said those words to me before—I’m nothin’ to nobody—and I knew Sean was repeating something he’d heard. Something he was told, over and over, until he believed it himself.
A switch turned on inside me. People I never met and probably would never meet, I hated them. I despised whoever did this to Sean, and I would forever feel this. I knew it.
“Please,” he begged.
“I can’t.”
>“Please.”
I shook my head faster, telling him, “You’re not nothing, Sean. I won’t say that. And I won’t tell you to leave—I don’t want you to.”
His eyes came up. He was still and silent, but his breathing…my God, it filled my ears. The sound—it was tortured.
I reached out and took hold of his wrist. “Come inside. Please. Just…watch TV with me. Or we can talk. Or we can just sit there, I don’t care.”
His chest shuddered.
I tugged on his arm ever so slightly, urging him.
I was prepared to drop down on my knees and beg, to not let go of Sean unless he forced me and still, putting up one helluva fight, but he stepped forward when I pulled, then took another on his own.
