The
next days were hell.
He tried to avoid being really close to her after
that night, aside from daily checking her stats, and giving her medication. He
had a duty, after all.
But this time, there were no two sides fighting
inside him, tearing him at the seams. His whole mindset was on preventing
things to go further, and stopping emotions before they develop.
She wasn’t making it easy, though. He could see that
clear as day. Whenever he’d make up an excuse to not be in the same room as
hers, he knew that she knew what he was doing, and she’d do something to delay
him.
Sometimes, he gave a good front and resume with his
original plans. Most of the time, he’d slip from his control and end up right
next to her, where he definitely shouldn’t
be.
Like what’s happening now.
“How can you concentrate?”
“Sorry, what was that?”
Tristan smiled, and lightly kissed her free hand. He
ignored his raging thoughts, like turning the volume down on a really loud
movie theatre. He’d chastise himself later, after this little escapade.
“I asked how you can concentrate with the music
playing.”
He was genuinely curious about that. They were on
the living room – Tristan’s head was on her lap as she read a novel, a genre of
science fiction. He was listening to the radio, his long legs able to stretch
along with the lengthy couch.
“Ohh,” she laughed, “it doesn’t really distract me
at all. It even helps me keep track.”
His brow creased, “But that’s confusing. The song
and the story don’t even go along.”
“They don’t have to,” she played with his hair while
looking down at him and answered, “The beat makes me read the next sentence in
the story, and the next, then the next.” She smiled.
“I see.” To be honest, he forgot all about songs and
books already – he was too smitten with the view.
They remained that way until dinnertime, but it was
not until the first night when reality came crashing hard on Tristan in the
most painful way possible.
The whole neighbourhood was sleeping just as he was
then. If he had a dream, he couldn’t remember any of it. What he did recall was
the reason why he woke up.
Crash.
Tristan stirred, shifting in the sheets.
Bang.
Tristan awoke with a gasp. Instant disorientation
hit him. What’s happening?
Bang.
His eyes widened in realization. He turned his head
to the room on his left. “Reeya,” he whispered. Quick as lightning, he got up
from the bed, not even bothering to throw on a shirt. His chest was about to
burst from alarm as he ran out to the hallway and threw her door open.
The room was in a mess, but that’s not the detail
that stopped Tristan’s heart.
She was crying again, the sobs racking her body.
Seeing him in the blur of tears, her fingers let go of the hand mirror which
was atop the dresser before. It broke with a sharp, distinct noise.
The hideous cracks on its surface were a metaphor of
how broken the young man felt at the moment.
With a great sob, Reeya ran to his arms through the
maze of mess in the room. Another kid of pain enveloped him as he received her
hug, as if he’s the only anchor she had to sanity.
“Shh,” she smoothed her hair again, “it’s okay.”
“I’m really so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” Wearily, he made a
mental note to change the doses of her medications.
“Your things – ”
“Don’t worry about that. It’s alright.” He returned
her hug, and they stayed that way for a few more minutes. Her crying ceased bit
by bit, and when he couldn’t hear any heart-breaking whimpers from her anymore,
he pulled back.
She looked drained. Clumps of hair clung to her wet
cheeks and neck, and Tristan tucked them behind her ear. All the while, he
avoided looking at her eyes. He knew he won’t handle it if he did – he might
break right then and there. Nobody needed that right now. That would be a
useless thing to do. He had to be calm and collected. Relaxed and in control.
Everything he wasn’t.
“We better fix the other room for you. It’s two am.”
“No, I – ” her voice broke, “I can’t. I told you I
have nightmares, I’ll just stay up.”
Tristan didn’t have the energy left to even muster a
sigh. Instead, he just put his arm around her shoulders and led her to the
spare room across from hers.
The door creaked open and he managed to make her lie
on the bed. She still refused to sleep.
“Okay. But you’ll have to take a long nap this
afternoon.” Wide awake, he pulled a chair from the study desk and set it near
her side of the bed. He sat.
“You won’t go back to your room?”
“No. I can’t let you have all the fun.” He smiled at
his own futile attempt of an ice breaker.
“I…” she drifted into silence. Then, remembering
what she wanted to say, she went on, “I’m sure you don’t have to. I won’t block
out again, I just – I just remembered really bad things and I – ” she took a quick
breath, “I panicked. So, I slipped out. It won’t happen again, you can sleep.”
He just shook his head, looking at her. “I’ll have
nightmares, too.” He smiled bitterly.
Nightmares about
you and me.
She didn’t say anything. He was glad about that – he
had no idea how he could respond, what with his throat being blocked by his effort
to stem his own tears.
“I really won’t sleep, you know.” she told him, eyes
searching his strained face, “And you need rest more than I do.”
Tristan laughed; one without genuine warmth in it at
all. It was short and harsh, and was new to Reeya’s ears.
“You just had an episode – and I need more rest that
you do?” that acrimonious sound came again, “How ironic.”
She fell silent again.
Thousands of if-onlys ran through his mind right
then – the perfect catalyst o his undoing.
If only you were
better.
If only I could
make everything go away.
“Tristan – ”
“If only I could cure you, I would do it in a blink
of an eye – ”
“Wait – ”
“If only we didn’t have this situation, everything would be
so fucking easy – ”
“Hey. Listen to me.” She took his hand, and that’s
when the first tears spilled. He couldn’t handle it anymore. He’d been strong
for too long.
“Why can’t you just get better? I tried everything I
can, gave everything I had – ”
“I’m sorry,” she had silent tears falling down on
her face, “I – I don’t know – ”
“If only miracles were real, I’d do anything humanly
possible – ”
“Please stop. I can’t listen – ”
“If only I wasn’t in love with you, I would completely walk away from this thing,
but I can’t – ” his eyes burned and
his voice broke. His soul spiraled lower than ever. “I love you so much.” he whispered.
If it meant trading his sanity for hers, his life
for a better one for her, his everything,
he would do it with no hesitations, no regrets, and no second thoughts. He’d
do it gladly.
If only I could
do that.
But he can’t.
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