“My brain is damaged.”
“Yes.”
The direct agreement stunned him.
I took his face in both hands.
“It is injured. Some effects may remain. That does not make your future already decided.”
“What if I need care?”
“Then we arrange care.”
“What if I can’t live here?”
“We make this place accessible.”
“What if that isn’t enough?”
“I hire help.”
“What if you can’t afford it?”
“We have money now.”
His expression crumpled.
“I don’t want the money to be for that.”
“It does not have to be.”
“What if I need a facility?”
The word barely emerged.
I breathed through the fear it raised.
“If one day you require medical care I cannot safely provide in this apartment, we choose the best option together while you can choose. We plan. We visit. We adapt.”
“You’d put me away.”
“No.”
His eye filled.
“I would not abandon you.”
“That’s not the same.”
“You’re right.”
The honesty hurt us both.
I moved closer.
“Love does not promise that every need can be met by one person’s hands forever. It promises I will not disappear because the work becomes difficult.”
Noah stared.
