Page 33 of Before I Lost You

“W-what the hell are you doing here, Conrad?” Ken’s voice is rough, as if he hasn’t spoken in a very long time.

I spin on my heel quickly, making myself dizzy. “I needed to see you,” I reply calmly, hoping that if I keep my tone soft, he won’t freak out.

“I haven’t texted you—fuck, I haven’t even answered your texts or your call…and you’re here?”

“Yes.” I blow out a big breath. “You need me, so I’m here.”

“I don’t—” He shakes his head.

“Baby, you don’t have to go through this alone,” I say just above a whisper, and his bottom lip wobbles as tears gather in his eyes. “Come here.” Kenneth closes the distance between us, hugging me tightly and burying his face in the crook of my neck. He sobs loudly, his body shaking, and I rub circles on his back soothingly. “It’s okay. Let it out.”

“She’s going to die.” He cries harder. “She’s going to leave me, too, Conrad. Everyone leaves me—everyonebuther. No one else has ever stayed, and now she’ll be gone too—”

“I’ll stay,” I tell him, trying to reassure him, but also making him a promise. “I won’t leave you.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against my neck, his tears soaking my skin and shirt. “I didn’t mean to not answer. I just haven’t been in a good headspace, and when that happens, I get really overwhelmed and disappear.”

“You don’t have to do that with me.” I hold him tighter, cradling the back of his head with one hand while I rub his back with the other. “I’m here for you. I want you to lean on me, Kenny.”

“I’ll do better,” Ken whispers, sniffling. “I’m just scared. I’ve never—” His breath shudders out of him, and he shakes in my arms. “I’m not used to relying on anyone.”

“It’s okay, Ken,” I soothe, rubbing his back slowly. He shifts and looks into my eyes. “Everything’s okay. Don’t stress over it, alright? I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t deserve it.” He sounds like he’s choking, and I press his face into the side of my neck. “I—”

“Yes. You do,” I reply sternly. “You deserve everything I choose to give you.”

He sobs again, “I won’t disappear on you again. I promise.”

I nod, a knot in my throat that won’t let me speak. I swallow past it, but before I can think of a reply, he leans in and kisses me. All thoughts of him not speaking to me vanish from my mind. All the hurt he caused—poof. The only thing I feel is relief; that he’s in my arms, that I can touch him, that he wants this too. That heneedsme.

Kenneth’s lips move over mine slowly, reverently. He cups my face with both hands and whimpers into the kiss when I deepen it, and when his tongue strokes mine, warm and sweet, my hands come up to his face too. It feels like an earthquake is happening inside of me, or maybe it’s just the way my hands are trembling. All I know is that I never want to let go of him.

“You’re shaking, baby,” Kenneth whispers against my lips, pressing one more soft kiss against them.

“You make me this way,” I breathe.

It’s not a lie. He makes me stupid and nervous, and like my world begins and ends with him. It’s too soon to be feeling this way, to need him and want him this badly. My feelings forhim are beyond intense—I don’t actually have words to describe them. But they scare the shit out of me. He does. That’s why this can never end.

The devastation might just fucking kill me.

Chapter 12

THE THINGS YOU FORGOT

It’s been five days since I’ve seen Kenneth. He’s been staying with his mom now that she’s out of the hospital, and the way I miss him is concerning. I don’t think I’ve ever missed anyone this much in my entire life, and it’s only been five days. It’s bordering on pathetic. It makes me feel concerned for myself, even. Because what do you mean I haven’t seen mynot-boyfriend foronly five daysand I’m acting like it’s been years? Maybe I need an intervention. Should I be calling Emerson for this? Something tells me he’d be supportive of these feelings, though. And that’s not what I need. I need to snap out of whatever this is. Pronto.

I think what’s driving me crazy is that I have no idea when I’ll see him again. We’ve kept in contact, texting all day long and calling each other at night before bed, but today he has been a little quieter than usual. It makes me wonder if something is wrong again. I really hope not. Kenneth’s mom is not exactly better and went home on hospice. I’m glad that she got to go home where he can spend time with her. She’s going to have a nurse around the clock, thankfully, so even if Kenneth isn’t withher, she’ll have help at all times. I really want to meet her and help him out as well, but it has to come from him. I’m not going to pressure him into introducing me to his only family member. That might be a bigger step than he’s ready for. I have to accept that and respect it.

I’ve been determined to give him space, waiting for him to seek me out first, keeping my text messages to a minimum unless he initiates, and only calling when he says it’s okay. It’s definitely been harder than I thought, but he is keeping in contact with me. He’s kept his promise and hasn’t ghosted me again. I’m thankful for it because I promised myself that if he did it again, I wouldn’t talk to him anymore. I have to have a modicum of self-respect. It’s hard, though. All I want to do is be close to him, and it’s driving me crazy not to be able to do it right now.

Despite my wanting to wait around forever, though, I force myself to get up and get dressed. It’s the Stanley Cup final, and I need to get out of this penthouse before I drive myself crazy. There’s only so much longing and yearning I can do from afar before I go nuts. So I decide to go watch the game at the sports bar across the street, put my clothes on, and go in search of my shoes back in the living room. Right as I sit down to put them on, the craziest thing happens. My elevator dings. And Kenneth comes inside.

My heart speeds up in my chest, and it feels like it’s trying to escape my ribcage, trying to reach him, because there’s only one person it belongs to. I look at him with wide eyes as he stands about ten feet away from me, and he looks back at me. His lips are parted, blue eyes dark, blond hair disheveled. His chest is heaving, hands balled into tight fists, clenching and unclenching every few seconds.

“Ken?” I question, voice small and confused. What’s wrong with him? “Are you okay?”

“I need you.” His voice trembles, and he takes a step forward. “I need to feel something, please. I n-needyou.”