never really would be. Losing a child wasn't something anyone ever probably really recovered from. I also wanted him to know that he wasn't alone. I wanted him to know that even when I went back to Birch Cabin tonight, he'd have someone to talk to if the memories became too much.
I wondered if he had anyone else in his life he could talk to. I remembered his reaction to knowing I'd attempted to take my own life, as brief as the desire had been. Had he tried the same thing at some point? Or considered it?
Since I knew there would be no answers forthcoming, I forced myself to finish getting my insulin pump set up. I then turned my attention to my phone. I pressed the button that would tell me what the time was, but when there was nothing but silence, I knew Gideon hadn't turned it on. I was grateful for that because if it had been on for any length of time, any one of my brothers would've been able to find a way to track it. And while I was desperate to see them, I was still too raw from the knowledge of how close I'd come to hurting them in such an unforgivable way.
My throat felt tight and I could feel tears pricking the backs of my eyes as I envisioned my brothers being told of my death. It was unacceptable. Every one of them had fought for me when I hadn't been able to do so for myself. No matter how hard things would be for me going forward, I needed to figure out a way to fight back.
Despite my newfound desire to put a better foot forward, I knew it wouldn't be that simple. When I did tell my brothers the truth about my vision, I would need to be the strong one. I wasn't strong enough yet. The question was, how did I get strong enough?
I was so lost in my own thoughts that I wasn’t aware of Gideon putting a plate of food in front of me until he asked, "Everything okay?"
I snapped out of my reverie and glanced his way. The food smelled surprisingly good and my stomach ended up growling much louder than I would've liked.
"I guess so," I heard Gideon say with what I hoped was a smile. It sure sounded like one.
"It smells really good," I said with a laugh. "Thank you." I started to search the table for a fork when I realized that Gideon would actually see me trying to eat. Since my vision had started to go, I'd only ever eaten by myself so I could save myself the embarrassment. Putting a fork in one's mouth should've been a simple task, but when one couldn’t see the fork, or the food, it wasn't so easy. Even just getting the food on the fork would be a monumental task. There had been countless times that I'd ended up putting an empty fork in my mouth.
"What's wrong?" Gideon asked. "Do you want some soy sauce or something?"
I shook my head. Insecurity was an ugly thing and I was its bitch. "I…" I stuttered. "Do you think maybe I could save this for later when I get home?"
The silence that followed was deafening.
It was all I could do not to squirm in my seat. I could feel Gideon's eyes on me. "It's just… I'm not as hungry as I thought I was. I mean, the food smells great, but I'm still feeling kind of full—"
My stomach chose that exact moment to growl again. I muttered a curse under my breath but cut it off abruptly when Gideon's hand closed over mine on the table. He really needed to stop doing that because my brain had a tendency to turn into mush whenever he touched me. It was already bad enough that I was so emotionally entangled with the man—I absolutely could not let my physical attraction to him continue to grow. It was one thing to be out and proud in Los Angeles, but I was in the north woods of Maine with a man who could very well be a homophobe for all I knew.
"You know that thing where you said how scary it was to not know what someone was thinking, to not be able to read them?" Gideon asked.
Despite knowing where he was going with this, I nodded anyway.
"I don't always get it right, Lex," Gideon said. "But at least give me the