Dear, God. I’d never experienced such pain, and from only words. They cut into me like a blade, sliced straight through my chest. The ache in my heart…it was excruciating.
“And I’m so, so sorry,” he continued.
“No.” I shuffled up onto my elbow, cradled his face. His eyes were red, swollen. From tears, from drowning, from pain. “No sorrys, ever. Remember?”
“I didn’t want to leave you,” he said. “It wasn’t that, please don’t think it was that.”
“I know.” And I did. Deep down, I did. It was easy to think I wasn’t enough, wasn’t worth fighting for, but I knew better. I’d been with Hugo, literally, since the beginning. This wasn’t Hugo’s fault. He couldn’t simply choose to cure the illness in his head any more than someone could choose to cure terminal cancer. “I know.” I dropped my forehead to his, brushed our lips together. I didn’t kiss him, just…felt him. “I know.”
“I know it was stupid. I do. I didn’t…I don’t want to die. I just… I’m tired, Heli.” From the crack in his voice, I knew he felt the kind of tired that no amount of sleep would fix.
“Close your eyes,” I whispered.
“I know we…I know we need to talk,” he murmured, voice growing weaker.
“We’ve got the rest of our lives for that,” I said, adamant…hopeful. “You can stop hiding now, Hugo. I’ve found you. I’m not leaving and you’re going to be okay. Now, sleep. Sleep and remember I love you.”
I just hope it’s enough to save you.
Sixteen
Hugo
One week later…
I hadn’t spoken yet today. Not to the doctor, the nurses, Drew, or even Helen. The lack of words wasn’t down to the fact my throat still felt like I’d swallowed ten razor blades, the broken rib, or what felt like a pneumatic drill trying to crack open my skull.
I was afraid.
If I closed my eyes, I was back on top of my Spiderman duvet, burying my face in Cecilia’s soft fur, begging her to hide me from the world. They wanted me to move today. Drew had booked me a room at some fancy rehab centre. The way he’d said it made it sound like a holiday. I knew better. Been there, done that, got anxiety. Shelling out ten grand a week wouldn’t give those quacks anything to say that I hadn’t heard a hundred times already. I didn’t want to go. I wouldn’t be able to talk. I couldn’t face it.
But I had to.
“The car will wait as long as you need it to,” Helen said from the chair beside my bed. She’d come to say goodbye knowing it would be the last time we’d see each other for a week, and I couldn’t even give her that. She understood, as always, but it didn’t make me feel any less of a selfish arsehole. “There’s someone from Woodhall Lodge here who’ll be travelling with you. I’ve met her. She seems nice.”
Okay. I couldn’t look at her, could only answer in my head. I appreciated that she hadn’t touched me since she’d arrived. My skin felt hyper-sensitive today. I probably wouldn’t have reacted well.
“Drew wanted to come but I thought you’d welcome less fuss.”
I do. Thank you.
I heard the door to my room open. Nobody spoke. It closed again. I imagined some silent glances of communication occurred between Helen and, perhaps, a nurse…or maybe the woman from the rehab centre. Fuck. Get it together. I willed my body to move. Any part of it. Even my eyes. The frustration only seemed to heighten my already overly focused senses. The stench of artificial pine in the air seemed particularly strong today. It cut through to my stomach, made me sickly. The nurses chattering outside echoed off the walls, bounced under the tiny gap in my door, straight into my ears. The room felt colder, too. The hairs on my arms wouldn’t relax even with the blanket tucked under my chin. The most maddening part was that my mind screamed to get the hell out, but my body refused to comply.
“You know,” Helen began, “When I first came to see you after you’d been admitted…I was scared.”
Christ. The guilt tried to kill me all over again. Helen I…Fucking talk to her!
“I don’t know why, really. Maybe I was afraid you wouldn’t want me here, that you’d blame me and I’d have to face losing you again. Maybe I thought I’d get angry. I think I was even a little scared of what you’d look like.”
Blame her? In what universe could Helen possibly be to blame? I’m so sorry, Heli.
Tell her. Go on…say it! She needs to hear it!
Nothing came out.
“I froze at the door…” she continued, “…and then I remembered one, two, three, do it. Do you remember?”
Of course. I still use it…but this is too big. Too much.
“Will you try it with me? I know you can’t talk right now, but if you’re willing to try it with me, can you nod?”