I knot my fingers into his shirt, but he breaks the hold easily, lifting both of us up again. This time, I slide onto his lap. Any space between us is too much.
“Summer,” he murmurs. “I have to straighten myself out first, though.”
“What do you mean?”
His answering smile is wry. “I have to go away for a little while. Summer, what you saw on Saturday… you haven’t seen it all. How bad it can get. There have been days where I’ve…” He shakes his head. “I have to face it.”
My fingers slip into the collar of his sweater and grip tight. “I want to face it with you.”
“I know, baby.”
“And I won’t leave you because you’ll one day lose your eyesight,” I vow. “I know now, and I’m not about to run for the hills.”
“I know,” he murmurs. Runs a thumb over my cheek. “I have to fight this, Summer. You deserve someone who fights.”
“Can’t we do it together?”
“Not yet.” He looks past me toward the windows, like he’s embarrassed, the sharp cut of his jaw working. “It’s like I have this darkness inside of me, this bottomless abyss, and sometimes it swallows me whole. I’ll be having a normal conversation with someone and want to scream until my voice gives out. I can’t fucking stand listening to someone complain. About anything. You lost your keys? Great. I’m going blind. It’s self-pitying. And I can’t stop it.”
He shakes his head in a quick motion. “I don’t like myself like this. It’s not about the diagnosis, and you helped me see that. It’s still the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. It still a fucking tragedy. But this darkness inside of me... that’s what’s choking me, Summer. I don’t like who I am when it’s in charge. And it’s in charge too often.”
My fingers tighten around his neck. I feel like crying, and I try not to, but he sees it. He gives me a soft smile. “You’ve helped so much, Summer.”
“I have?”
“Yes.” He rests his forehead against mine, and I hold on, thinking about the bleak look in his eyes on Saturday. The half-drunk bottle of scotch and scent of despair in the stuffy townhouse. “There’s something worth fighting for now.”
“What are you planning?”
“Everything,” he murmurs. “And nothing. One step at a time. I’m going to tell my business partners, I think. Maybe call my doctor back and tell him I’m ready to start investigating… aids.”
“Aids?”
“Canes,” he says. “Dogs. Braille.”
The words tear at him. I can see it, and yet he says them, eyes locked with mine.
“And you want to do it alone,” I whisper.
“I need to, Summer. Until I know I have control of myself. I know that I lash out when I’m…”
“Hurting,” I fill in.
“Mmm.”
“Will you keep me updated? Come back to me when you’re ready?”
“God, yes,” he says, hands tightening around my waist. “Summer, this isn’t a goodbye. It’s not me walking away.”
“Good.”
“It’s me saying I have to sort my life out. I can’t hide in this apartment with you forever, however much I might want to.”
“I know.”
“I’ll miss you every day,” he murmurs. Touches my lips with his, and this time, the kisses are filled with words neither of us have spoken yet.
He stands, my legs locked around his waist, and walks us to the bedroom. I close the door and watch him through hooded eyes. He watches me back, the want and love stark in his gaze. I lift my dress over my head and revel in it. Shake my hair out, undo my bra, tossing it away. He drinks me in, taking off his own clothes with fast movements.