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"I'll do it, Sage. I promise."
His voice was earnest, eyes full of hope for my approval—I almost pulled on his ear like I used to do when we were younger. It was the only form of affection either of us showed each other, but I couldn't bring myself to give anything more than a stiff smile.
"Go on." I waved my hand toward the exit. "I'm going to talk to the doctor and then take Mom home."
"I shouldn't be long," he promised. "Day's over, but I know the mechanic. I'll be in and out and drive back to the house."
"Good." I nodded. "No pit stops. I need you to stay with her tonight."
I could do a lot of things, but being trapped at home wasn't one of them. I needed to get a good night's rest in my own space—sleeping in my bed was how I planned on holding on to my sanity.
Ash hurried out of the hospital while I waited with my mom for the doctor to come back out and give us updates. She answered simple questions but never took her eyes off the wall.
Suddenly, I was ten all over again. She'd just gotten news of Dad going on another drinking binge and proceeded to clam up. I had to wash, clean, and cook for the boys, walk them to school in the morning and pick them up in the evening. She hadn’t moved all day.
When we finally got an update and I concluded there was nothing us sitting in the waiting room would fix, I took her home. Ash was there with takeout on the table, and I hung around for a bit longer; it felt wrong to leave so quickly. As soon as Mom went into her room and shut the door, I was out.
My escape to my bike was made in record time. I willed myself to keep my cool until I stepped into my apartment, but frustration tears were already on the horizon. As I fumbled to tug off my helmet, my phone buzzed with a text. I didn’t check it for a second, breathing in and out to prepare for more bad news. The next sound was a ring, and the name on the caller ID surprised me.
I wiped my face, even though no tears had fallen. With a quick clear of my throat, I answered the call.
"Hey, Pastel," I greeted in what sounded like a relatively normal voice for me. "Everything okay?"
"That's exactly what I was going to ask you." Her voice was soft, so I don't know how it pierced my chest when I heard it.
"So we're doing post-work wellness checks now? This relationship is getting serious."
"Yeah, it is."
My heart pounded. "I didn't get the memo."
"That's because I made the decision all on my own."
"Look at you," I teased. "Throwing your weight around."
"Sage, are you okay?" she asked in a tone that made me feel like it would be fine if I said no.
"Of course." I pushed the receiver away from my mouth to release a shaky sigh. There was always something about a genuine 'are you okay' that nearly made me break down.
"Really?" Noah persisted with determination.
I swallowed and whispered, "No."
"What do you need?" Noah asked. There wasn’t any hesitation in the offer, more willingness in the tone than I felt I'd ever deserve. "I'll get it for you, do it for you. Whatever it is."
"No, I got everything under control," I said, ready to take back the confession. "Besides, you shouldn't be worried about me. You should be thinking about resting that hand—"
"It's fine," she cut in. "As long as you don't ask me to draw your panels, it's fine. I'm resting it. Now, what do you need?"
I tried to remember the last time someone asked me that, but I kept coming up blank.
"Sage?" Her voice lowered to a whisper. "Please, tell me how to help you. I want to help you. What do you need?"
"You," I said with my eyes closed, afraid of what that meant, what it could mean for my future. Our future. Partners were meant to be leaned on, but I’d never needed to lean. People needed me, but that didn't work in reverse. It felt embarrassing for it to be reversed. I would rather be there for her than her for me.
"What does that look like?" she asked.
"Maybe we can hang out," I suggested—that seemed easy enough, like I wasn't asking for much. "You could come over to my place, or I could come over to yours. I'll order anything you want to eat."
