But you can hear it loud and clear now.
Not enough. Not enough. Not enough.
I’m a bit quicker getting to our bedroom than I’ve been walking around since I talked to Dr. Amore—I dropped those failures with the bag, but I feel them, nipping and grabbing at my heels, dragging me back with each step I take.
I try to kick them off when I get to the door. I grab the frame and shake out each foot before I sprint on quiet feet towards our bed, swinging my legs up so no monsters can grab me, even though they’re already in the room with us.
It wakes Bohdan, even though I tried hard to be quiet.
He cringes, eyes blinking slowly before he scrubs his face and rolls over to look at me. The navy sheets shift, falling just below the curved muscles of his arm.
I changed the sheets back.
The seafoam-green wasn’t doing anything but hurting me.
He gives me a rare smile. Lazy.Lovely.
I don’t think he’s really awake yet. And as horrible as it is, this is my favourite him now.
The him like the one he used to be—before he wakes up and realizes the world stole from him and he’s so, so sad.
“Hey,” he whispers, words rough, but I feel like they’re smoothing out all the worry lines stretching across my face, and pushing away the frown of my bottom lip.
“Hi. Can we—can we talk? I had—I had a bad day.” I sniff, reaching out to touch him, but I think better of it at the last minute and flatten myself down on my side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
“Of course we can talk, Zlatícko,” he murmurs, and his thumb swipes across my left cheek.
I inhale sharply. I don’t remember the last time he called me that, and I certainly don’t remember the last time he touched me the way he used to—with reverence and love and lust and starlight.
It makes me brave.
“I feel like I can’t do anything right ... and I’m trying so, so hard. It’s just not enough. It’s never enough. I know it’s silly but I bought you this new plant, these new sheets, I’ve looked up all these things you can try ... and I know I’m not the team doctor, and I know I’m not in your brain or your body, but I’m trying so hard, Bohdan. I want you to have whatever you want—it’s what I’ve always wanted. I can’t fix anything. I can’t fix this for you the way you fixed things for me. I can’t even remember to submit the right papers for school and I’m behind on my grading. I don’t think my students really like me anymore. I don’t think you really like me anymore. But I’m still here, and I came all this way ... I came here for you. The only thing I’ve ever really wanted is you. The only thing I’ve ever really been sure of is you, and will you please, please just let me in? Please just talk to me. Whatever horrible, depraved things you’re thinking. I promise I’ll treat them with care. All your thoughts. You ... the way you are now. I just ... need you. Please?”
He says nothing. I don’t even feel him shift in the bed.
I hope I didn’t hurt his feelings. I know it’s not his fault. I know his brain is wreaking havoc and waging a war he can’t win.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I breathe in and out before rolling over to face him.
He’s still here.
Physically, at least.
But he’s not here, not really.
He’s asleep.
Sloan
“Hibachi.”
“Hibachi wasn’t on the itinerary.”
“Well, it’s my cruise, and I’d like to go to the hibachi.” Talon grips the edges of the table, leaning forward, and the breeze rolling off the ocean sends curls tumbling over his ears.
Jay presses a palm to his forehead, lines digging in around the corners of his eyes. “Weren’t we supposed to go to the casino? Why hibachi? Because you think they’re going to let you throw one of the little flippers in the air?”
“I love hibachi.” Tia nods, pushing the umbrella sitting in her drink out of the way to clear a path to the straw. Her eyes cut to me, the amber flecks coming alive against the setting sun.
