Weathered Love

FORGIVE

"They still don't know what it is," Andrew explained. We were on a stroll through my neighborhood. "They're telling me it's something they've never seen before. Which means they have no clue how to treat it or how it affects me or how to prolong my life," he sighed. "So, I could drop dead at any minute." His voice didn't crack, but I knew that face better than anyone. He was in turmoil.

And all I could think to do was hug him. I embraced him with as much love as I could muster, praying I wasn't squeezing him too hard. He returned the hug, but it wasn't as heartfelt as it normally would have been.

"Have you looked online for people with a similar condition?" I asked.

"What would be the point of that?" Andrew rudely responded. I took in a shaky breath, reminding myself that he was under a lot of stress and that his anger and frustration weren't directed at me.

"I've heard that people sometimes find other people with the same condition and sometimes that person has answers from whatever doctor they've been to. And sometimes, having more than one test subject allows doctors to notice patterns that help them find more answers," I offered.

"I don't want to be tested anymore," Andrew mumbled.

"OK," I quickly relented. "It was just a thought."

Andrew let out a frustrated yell, causing me to jump a little. He looked at me and instantly his anger turned to guilt. "I'm sorry," he barely whispered. "I'm not upset with you," he assured me.

I gave him the most brilliant smile that I could, hugged him once more, and let out a relieved chuckle. "I know," I finally responded. "I can't imagine what you're going through. I can only pray that you're cured, or you get to live a long life, or at the very least, you find peace. I'm more upset because there's nothing I can do. I feel really helpless," I responded. My voice cracked. I took in a shaky breath. It wasn't my turn to break down. It was Andrew's.

"You don't need to put on a brave face for me," Andrew reminded me.

"I know," I responded. I felt calmer. "But you need a chance to be vulnerable too."

"You're really cute, you know that?" Andrew stated, side-stepping the issue. But I knew he only wanted to be vulnerable in his own way. Breaking down wasn't how he wanted to be emotionally naked. And I understood that. So I shook my head and rolled my eyes in response to his comment, because I knew that, for now, he wanted to live in the moment. In case it was all he had left.

* * *

I stepped across the threshold, nervously balancing the dessert I had brought while I entered the house. It was later that night. I met Andrew's family before, but it was my first time being invited over for dinner. And it was my first time baking for them. I was honestly worried they wouldn't like my baking. Or that I was over- or under-dressed. Should I have straightened my hair or would they appreciate my natural curls? Should I have worn more make-up? No make-up? Should I take my shoes off when I get inside or keep them on? Should I hang my own coat? Do I eat generous helpings or act like I survive on air and water?

"Let me grab that for you," Andrew offered as he gently took the cake out of my hands. I gave him a grateful smile as I took off my coat.

"I'll get that for you dear," Andrew's mother stated, taking my coat and scarf and hanging them in the closet. "I love your outfit," she gushed. I internally screamed in delight. I didn't need to worry. Yet. I chanced a look down at her feet and noticed she was wearing slippers. I figured the safest route would be to take my shoes off. I unzipped my boots and as I finished wrestling them off my feet, Mrs. Jones popped back up out of nowhere with a pair of slippers for me to wear. I hadn't even noticed that she had left. I gratefully slipped the warm slippers on my feet and followed her into the living room.