The Fade

41

Happy Thanksgiving to my American readers!

Even though this sentiment is coming a day late, I just wanted to say how thankful I am for each and every one of you guys. Every single read means the world to me, and, because this week I've finally realized that I need to prioritize my writing/editing passion over my desire to go into healthcare, each read gets me one step closer to my dream.

I can't thank you guys enough.

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Jamison scrabbles at the elevator doors, which remain tightly shut.

"Dude, stop. It's not going to open."

He continues to try to pry the doors apart, only to give up a moment later with a loud curse.

I sigh when I see him cupping the fingers of his right hand in his other hand. "Jamison, come here."

He reluctantly joins me on the far side of the room.

I shimmy out of my backpack straps before taking his hand in mine.

Blood oozes out from beneath his torn finger nails. Honestly, the whole mess makes me want to throw up, but I know that if I don't fix him up, no one else is going to.

"Sit."

He obliges, and I slowly sink beside him. I pull open my backpack and dig around for my first-aid kit and a water bottle.

"I didn't mean to upset you earlier," he says, watching as I dribble water onto a piece of gauze. He flinches when I start to dab at his wounds.

I don't say anything.

"Halle, I... I want to make this work. I really want us to be able to make this work."

I want to say, "Guess you should've thought about that before making other plans," but I bite my tongue and dab perhaps a little more roughly than is necessary.

He inhales sharply, and I mutter an apology.

"Halle, please look at me."

"If I look at you right now, I'm going to take one of your nails off."

"Please. Just for a minute."

With a sigh, I look up. "Okay, you've got my attention. What do you want?"

"You. I want you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to grow old with you."

"You just met me a couple months ago."

"Maybe, but I knew the moment I met you-"

"Stop."

"Maybe it's a bit cliché, but it's true. Halle, I will do whatever it takes it keep you in my life."

I can't hold it back any longer. "No, you wouldn't."

He pulls his hand away, gasping quietly with pain. "That's not fair. You... You of all people know how much this all means to me. You of all people should be able to understand why I need to do this, why I need to stay in Washington, D.C. I will do anything for you, Halle, but this is something I need to do for myself. And if you love me as much as I love you, you should be able to respect that."

Any sharp retort I might've had is blown away.

We've never used the L-word before. Not in that way.

"You love me?" I ask. My voice comes out weird, all shaky and faint.

"I've been trying to tell you for weeks, but yeah. I love you."