Page 97 of Please Don't Leave Me

While she pets Pepin, I chat with her, asking her name and what grade she’s in. Eventually, her mom calls her back over, saying they have to leave. The girl reluctantly says goodbye and wheels away. Pepin wants to follow his new friend so badly, but I hook the leash on him and walk back toward Sam.

The three of us walk around the lake on a new path near Sam’s house. The fall colors are gorgeous this time of year. When I moved out of state for college, I missed the fall season in Minnesota. Between the view of the trees and the views of this beautiful man walking by my side, I'm not sure how I got so lucky.

Sam and I have been dating for a couple of months now, and I couldn’t be happier. Sure, I still get down sometimes, but nothing compared to how I felt before Sam. I still haven’t told him about my depression or the bathtub incident. I just haven’t found the right time, or the right time comes, and I chicken out because I don’t want to ruin this beautiful thing we have.

It weighs heavy on my mind, though. I often remind myself that even as Sam gets to know me better, he doesn’t know every side of me. He doesn’t know about the side he won’t like. The side that could lead to heartbreak.

Sam squeezes my hand. “Everything okay? You look deep in thought.”

“It’s nothing. Just thinking about my exam.”

That’s not what I was thinking about, but it very well could have been. I passed the first exam the second time I took it. I've just taken the second one and am waiting for theresults. Sam’s been doing his best to keep my mind off it, but it’s hard.

Instead of mansplaining and telling me how pointless it is to worry, he’s supportive.

“Is there anything I can do to take your mind off it?”

We stop, and he puts his arms around me, turning me so we face each other. Pepin sits beside us, patiently waiting to continue his walk.

“Well, I could think of a couple things…” I give him the look that usually leads to us being sweaty and tangled up in the sheets.

He looks down at me and tucks my hair behind my ear. We’re hidden behind some bushes, so nobody is being subjected to our PDA. His face changes from suggestive to something I can’t quite read. Is it concern, worry?

“I’ve wanted to say this for a while…”

I’m getting slightly nervous.

“I love you, Lou. So much.” He’s staring into my eyes, and I realize that the look he’s giving me isn’t concern or worry; it’s the look of someone painfully in love, not knowing how the other one feels.

I can feel his heart pounding in his chest, and I stand there just staring back at him, silent.

“You don’t have to say it back. I just needed to tell you before I exploded.”

When he senses that I’m not going to say it back just yet, he breaks the silence by leaning down to kiss me.

I don’t know why I didn’t say it back.

Well, maybe I do. I want to say it to him; I want him to know how crazy I am about him and how happy he makes me. But I can’t. I can’t take the next step, knowing he doesn’t know all of me. I’m sad he got to it first because now I worry it’s only going to make thattalk more difficult.

He releases me and takes my hand, continuing down the path. He starts up a conversation like nothing happened. I appreciate him not making me feel bad about not saying it back. My heart flutters when I replay the image of him saying it. I want to say it; I want to rewind and say it back to him, but I can’t.

We’re a block away from the house when Pepin startles me with a sneeze. Or was it a cough?

“Bless you, buddy.” I reach down and pat his side. It feels firm.

Next thing I know, he starts gagging, and I realize it wasn’t a sneeze. I’ve seen him throw up before, so I’m not that fazed. I bend down and rub his back.

“Let it out, buddy.”

Nothing comes up. He stops heaving, and we keep walking. Until it happens again. This time, the coughing produces white foam.

I’m starting to get concerned. Sam whips out his phone and starts typing.

I continue to pet Pepin on the back as he keeps coughing and gagging. It almost seems like he’s choking, but I know he didn’t eat anything. I feel his stomach again and notice his abdomen is distended.

My heart is racing, and I can feel my throat close up from trying to hold back tears.

“Lou, I think we should take him in. From what I’m reading, this could be bad.”

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