The Song of David(96)

“I may not be able to control whether I leave or not,” I said, rolling away from her and staring up at the ceiling.

“That’s not what I mean, big guy. And you know it.” She sat up and folded her legs beneath her. She kept a hand on my arm the way she always did when we were close, the contact important to her. Yeah. I knew what she meant. I’d taken myself away. Removed myself. And she was asking me if I was going to do it again.

“People don’t survive what I’ve got. They just don’t,” I whispered.

She immediately shook her head. Resisting. Her resistance made me harsh.

“It might seem romantic, Millie. Taking care of me. But it isn’t romantic. It’ll be ugly and painful. And I won’t be the man you’re in love with. I’ll be the man trying not to die and dying anyway,” I pressed. She stiffened and her hand tightened on my shirt. Good. She was listening.

“I’ll feel like shit, I’ll probably be mean as hell, and you’ll wonder what you’re doing. I’ll lose my bumps. You’re all about the bumps, remember? I’ve already lost my hair. I’ll lose my ability to be strong for you. And for Henry. And when you’ve lost all that, when you’ve been through hell, I’ll die anyway! I’ll die anyway, Millie, and you won’t have anything left. No David, no Tag. You won’t have my song. You’ll just have a belly full of sorrow,” I argued, impassioned. But she was ready for me.

“Some people are worth suffering for. I’m strong. I’ve been training for this, you know. Instead of feeling bad that I’ve had my trials, be grateful that I’m strong. I’ve got this. I’ve got you. Don’t take that away from me, David.”

“I don’t want our last days together to be with me in a vegetative state. I don’t want you to feed me and hold my hand! I don’t want to forget your name. I don’t want you to watch me suffer!”

“Ah, but I won’t. Perks of being a blind girl,” she shot back, and there was anger in her voice. “I won’t have to see you suffer at all, will I?”

I swore and stood, shaking her off. I didn’t want to argue with her. I headed for the door. I now understood Millie’s need to walk everywhere she went. Walking beat being trapped. And I was trapped.

“When are you going to start believing that you are worthy to be loved?” Her voice rang out behind me, clear and controlled, but there was a barely restrained fury that made her words wobble.

I paused and faced her once more. She was trying to follow me, and I had no doubt that if I walked out of the house, she would grab her stick, and I would be forced to play a game of Marco Polo down the streets of Levan so she wouldn’t lose me. I needed her to let me go and she obviously wasn’t going to do that.

“Millie—”

“No!” she cried. “You don’t think you are worthy of love if you aren’t Tag, if you aren’t the ‘sexy man!’” Millie did air quotes and mocked me, mocked the conversation we’d had when she’d played my chords. “You don’t think you are worthy of love if you are sick. You don’t think you are worthy of love if you can’t be the strong one all the damn time! If you can’t take care of me twenty-four seven, you must not be worthy of love.”

“That’s not it!” I protested, shaking my head, denying everything.

“That is it, dammit!” she cried, stamping her foot. She stepped toward the decorative vanity where she’d carefully placed her things and, with a rare show of temper, pushed everything to the floor. Toiletries, a blow dryer, a pile of folded laundry—all of it tumbled off the edges, and Millie kept pushing, just like she was pushing me.

“Millie, cut it out, dammit! You’re going to hurt yourself, baby!”

“NO!” she shouted. “This is not about me! If I want to throw a few things, I will. I’m not an invalid. I’m not a princess. I’m a grown woman. And I can throw a fit if I feel like it!” She threw her hand out in my direction, pointing her finger at me and wagging it fiercely. “And I don’t expect you to clean it up when I’m done!”

I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing as I watched her come unglued. At me.

“Do you know when I lost my sight I felt guilty for a long time? I felt guilty for the pain I put my parents through. Then my dad left. And my guilt grew tenfold. I felt guilty when my mom had to change her whole life to accommodate my blindness. Henry was just a little kid, and he had his own set of issues. And I made everything worse! I made everything fall apart. That’s what I told myself for a long, long time.”