I look around for something to do and settle on fluffing the pillows propped behind his back and head. What is even the point of fluffing these? I have no idea, but it gives me an excuse to stay in the room with him.
It’s been three days since I found him unresponsive here in his bedroom. Between the attack on his kidneys and the constant diarrhea, he can easily become dehydrated. Beyond normal dehydration. He blacks out because his blood pressure drops so low. If not caught in time, it could kill him. I think my heart is still at the threshold of this bedroom where I left it when I ran to him. I fluctuate between paralyzing fear and numbness.
All the what ifs torture me. What if I hadn’t heard him? What if we hadn’t gotten him to the hospital in time? What if it happens again? The nurse was able to double her time here the last few days, but I still slept in here on top of the covers beside him, so afraid I wouldn’t hear him calling me.
“At least try to drink a little more of the smoothie.” I turn to grab the cup from the bedside table and catch him staring at my ass. “Really, Zo?”
The stern note I try to inject in my voice barely disguises the laughter. It feels like such a typical guy thing to do, and our life has been anything but typical the last two months.
“You’re beautiful, Banner,” Zo says, running his eyes over me in yoga pants and a tank top. “A man can look, yes?”
“Sure. Whatever.” I roll my eyes and proffer the smoothie. “Drink some. You need to hydrate and haven’t been eating enough.”
“I would eat if I could. Believe me, and my taste buds are shot. Even the things I usually like taste like shit.”
He sips some of the smoothie I hold for him. As I’m pulling it back, he surprises me by the move he makes and the strength behind it. With a finger tucked in the waistband of my pants, he pulls me toward him, throwing me off balance. I fall on the bed and he leans in to kiss me. Not a gentle kiss. A who-needs-to-breathe kind of kiss. It tastes of vanilla and pineapple. Most of all it tastes like Zo. For a moment I want to just lie back and let it happen, only because it feels familiar. It feels like our old life, the life we had before this disease razed our world, laid everything to waste. And before I broke his heart and betrayed his trust. But that time has passed, and this time isn’t simple. It’s hard, and even though this would be easy, I won’t lie to him anymore.
“Zo,” I mumble into the kiss, gently pushing his frail chest. “No. We can’t.”
He flops back on his pillow, wearing a frown, his jaw sharp with displeasure.
“Have you kept your end of our bargain?” he demands.
“What?” I stand by the bed, dumbfounded that he would even ask me that. “What do you mean?”
“I mean are you fucking your other boyfriend?”
This happens from time to time, a side effect of the drugs. Wild mood swings. I don’t know if it’s the drugs or if he’s just been holding that question back, waiting for the perfect chance to throw the infidelity in my face.
“Nothing to say, Bannini?” he asks, his voice stronger than I’ve heard it in weeks, reinforced with sarcasm.
“Yes, I have something to say. I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t have sex. I don’t have an office. I don’t have a life right now, Zo.”
I swing my arm around his bedroom in an angry arc.
“I have this. I have you, my best friend who hates me.”
He grabs my hand, refusing to let go when I tug.
“I could never hate you,” he says, his tone suddenly quiet and already repentant. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I shouldn’t have said that. You’ve given up everything for me. I know this.”
I let loose a frustrated breath. We may both be a little stir crazy. Other than his appointments and treatments, we don’t go out much. With Zo’s immunity so compromised, there aren’t many allowed in. His diarrhea has been crippling, and the only way he can leave the house is wearing a diaper, an indignity he can suffer only so many times. He’s sick as fuck. I’m exhausted, and we’re both stumbling through the flames of a Hell we can’t see the end of.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now, Zo.” I clamp my teeth together and stave off the tears I can’t afford and that won’t stop once they start. “You’re my best friend. Nothing will change that.”
He grins, even though his eyes are already drooping from the meds that make his nausea and pain bearable.
“It’s probably good you stopped me,” he slurs. “I would have fallen asleep at second base.”
Our fight passes as quickly as it came. We’ve never been able to remain angry with one another for any amount of time. At least that hasn’t changed.
I tiptoe out of the bedroom and close the door behind me. I can get some work done now. Maali is supposed to call in the next hour or so to discuss a few things I’ve left in her more-than-capable hands. When the phone rings, I assume it’s her and don’t even check the screen.
“Hello.” There’s silence on the other end for a beat or two. I’m ready to pull the phone away and check the caller when he speaks.
“Hey, Ban.”
My poor unsuspecting heart is unprepared for his voice. How it releases a fall of feathers in my belly and takes my breath hostage.
“Jared?” My voice sounds high and thin.
“Yeah.” He hesitates before going on. “Is it okay that I called?”
God, yes.
“Sure.” I bite my lip and search for my cool, my collected, but it’s nowhere to be found. “It’s good to hear your voice.”
“I’m in town.”
“Here?” I point to the floor. “In Palo Alto?”
“Yeah. I’d like to see you. Maybe we could meet?”
My hopes, my excitement sink. Fuck my life.
“I can’t leave the house right now,” I say quietly. “Zo had a rough couple of days, and the nurse isn’t coming ’til tomorrow.”
“Of course,” he says too quickly, like he expected me to shut him down. “I get it. Maybe next time.”
“Oh.” My mind clamors for something to keep him on the phone a few minutes longer. “So you . . . you have business here? An appointment or something?”
It’s quiet for too long, and for a second I think I’ve lost him.
“Jared?” I ask again. “You have business here?”