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“I’m okay. It’s a flare-up. I need rest, and I’ll be good as new in a few days.” She smiles weakly. It does nothing to convince me.
“It was the wine,” I mumble.
“No, it wasn’t.” Sage shakes her head and then grimaces.
She slowly sits up, her face screwing in pain, and grabs a bottle of water from the table. She takes both pills at once.
“It could be a number of things,” she says after swallowing them.
“Like what?” I cross my arms.
“Stress. Worry. I’ve been stressed a lot lately.” She looks away, guilt on her face.
“Stressed?” I lift my brows, settling down on the rug beside her bed. “Because of me?” I point to myself.
“Yes . . . I mean, kind of.” She shakes her head.
“Wow,” I breathe out.
“Tristan.” Her hand wraps around my arm. “That’s not what I meant. Not you, but this whole situation is stressful. I have to keep up with so many things. I hate lying, especially to my parents.”
“Then we stop. We pretend to break up,” I resolve.
“What? No, I don’t want that. You need this money.” She tries to sit up some more, looking at my face.
“What I need more than that is for you to be healthy and well.” I’ve never meant anything more in my life.
Sage leans back and stares at me, her eyebrows crinkling.
“You’re so close,” she whispers.
“I don’t care how close I am if it’s causing you this.” I wave a hand in front of her.
She looks weak and small, and I don’t want any part in making her this way.
“A flare-up was bound to happen.”
“Not if I hadn’t entered your life and turned it upside down.”
“You haven’t turned it upside down, Tristan.” She smiles.
I want to hug her, to make her pain go away. If I could, I’d transfer it to myself so she could be well.
“I need you to be okay. Lay down, don’t worry that I’m here.” I brush her hair, the knotted strands tangling in my fingers.
I help her down and place the pillow behind her head. Then, I sit back down on the floor, staring at her.
She looks beautiful even when she’s sick. I lace my fingers with hers and sigh.
“I was so scared when Julie told me you were sick,” I whisper.
“Why?” Her brows furrow.
“Because I care about what happens to you. You’re not some random stranger to me.”
Hudson’s words hit me as I look at the sadness in her eyes. Things are shifting between us, and I don’t know how much longer I can pretend with her that this is fake.
The game has changed, and the only people we’re fooling now are ourselves.
