Stories for Lovers - Eden Winters Page 0,11

you say the words might kill me. “Did you intend to take all these pills at once?”

He tilted his head back, but I couldn’t miss the shimmering in his eyes. Tears slipped free of his control to trail down his cheeks. “I didn’t know what else to do. I used to have my life so organized; now it’s spinning out of control. I just wanted to make it stop. The pain, the uncertainty.”

Oh dear God. So he had planned to end his life.

“Let me help you.” I took his hand. He flinched, but didn’t withdraw. “I know a place you can go. Get some rest. Plan out what you want to do with the rest of your life.”

“I want to sleep. Sometimes I don’t want to wake up.”

His eyes met mine. With every ounce of my being I willed him to see the truth of my words, that I wanted to help, that I’d never, ever do anything to hurt him. At least not purposefully. My indifference had done enough damage.

I pulled him to me and rocked him as he cried. “Shhh … it’ll be okay. It’ll all be okay. I’m here now.”

Desperate sobs gradually dissipated. He didn’t say a word. Silently he dressed, packed a bag, and trudged behind me to the car. He never even asked where we were going. Every mile of silence nicked another notch in my heart. For his own good, for his own good. I’m doing this for his own good.

I rested my hand on his, and breathed a sigh of relief when he laced our fingers.

Our destination appeared from the street to be an elegant private residence. From the curving drive I spotted a tennis court and walking trail. “The place came highly recommended,” I prattled to my listless audience of one. “They’ll take good care of you here.”

Travis said nothing. He simply stared out the window. Every line of his body screamed, “abandoned”, much as I’d felt two years ago. His sister had given me food for thought, but he was in no condition for long, heartfelt conversations. I couldn’t be selfish now. The most important thing was to get Travis well.

I checked him in while he stood beside me, gaze riveted to his hands. He didn’t even say goodbye when a smiling woman showed him to his room. Of course, he probably remained stoic for me, knowing that if he wrapped his arms around me and cried, begging me to take him home, it would have only added to my misery.

I left my heart with him so he wouldn’t get lonely.

“He doesn’t want to see you.” Bob stared at me over his half-eaten croissant.

A small price to pay for the privilege of speaking of my husband in present tense. “How’s he doing?” Shortly after dropping Travis off for treatment I’d found my name on the “no admittance list.” The gesture hurt, but not nearly as bad as losing him completely would. My own newly-acquired counselor had instructed me not to worry, that Travis needed this time to come to terms with his life.

Bob shrugged. “Okay, I guess. The stuff he’d been taking made him want to hurt himself so he quit.” An unfortunate piece of bread found itself plucked apart in his fingers. “But not taking the pills didn’t stop the thoughts. His new doctor finally got his meds figured out. He’s put on weight. Yesterday he even smiled.”

And suddenly Bob was five years old again, staring at me with frightened eyes while the steadfast rock who’d nursed us through the stomach virus from hell finally succumbed.

“Dad? Is Daddy gonna be all right?”

“God, I hope so.” I stood by helplessly as my lover retched again from behind the closed bathroom door. Only then did I notice the tiny hand clutching mine, and that Bobby finally, with the words “Dad” and “Daddy” accepted that we wouldn’t take him back to foster care, that he belonged with us forever. That we were his family.

The tears that filled my eyes couldn’t have been more ill-timed.

“I knew it! He’s dying!” Bobby’s quivering lower lip gave a scant warning to the full blown howls that followed.

I fell to my knees, wrapping him in my arms. He stiffened for a moment before burrowing into my embrace, no longer afraid of adults—at least not of me. “Shh… No, Bobby, he’s not dying. He’s going to be okay; we’re all going to be okay.” There and then we ceased to be me, Travis, and an abused youngster, and became

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