Page 79 of Until You Found Me

He doesn’t know how she manages to drag him up from the deepest lows until he finally sees daylight again. It’s a skill she’s honed quickly and one he’s grateful for.

“Do I make you happy, too?” she asks, tentative and doubtful like he’s planted a seed he didn’t intend to.

“Of course you do. Come’re.” He gathers her up against his chest with a snug squeeze. “M’sorry. Just caught in my damn head.”

“When you say things like ‘if it gets to be too much’, I wanna kick you in the shin a little bit,” she teases with a pout.

“Noted. I’d prefer to keep my shins intact.”

He’s conditioned to believe that everyone leaves. Everyone gets frustrated with him. Everyone finds him a burden. She’s helping him learn how possible it is for everything to be different.

* * *

Life, it would seem, goes on. He cuts back on work hours until he’s barely scraping by all so the state will pay his medical bills and buy him insulin. Not having to worry about how to secure the next vial is a relief until he checks his bank account.

Arthur pays them both in cash for working on the domes.He fully intends to hide that money from the government to keep the water flowing and the heat on.

He’s been to four dialysis appointments so far and every time he waits for Tessa to tell him she wants to stay home. She could make any excuse to avoid being with him, and he would accept it without question, but she hasn’t missed a single appointment. They play cards or watch bad talk shows during the hours it takes to clean his blood. He tells himself he could do it all alone, but he’s so damn grateful that he doesn’t have to.

She skips therapy to be with him despite his encouragement to go and it’s not until Audrey tells them that more of her testing they sent off to a different hospital came back a match, that she starts to consider therapy again.

‘What are the odds we would match?’ She told him. ‘Hell, what are the odds we’d find each other at all?’

‘You’re saying it’s a sign?’

‘It’s definitely a sign.’

Signs or not, they won’t let her donate if she can’t remember who she is. That’s fine with him because he has no intention of taking her kidney, but it’s the push she needs to schedule her next appointment for a journey back into her own mind again.

Tessa fidgets in her seat while Victor tries to lead her into a memory. Her fingers curl against her thighs, nails scraping the denim of her jeans. “I can’t see anything.”

“Tell me where you are.”

“Nowhere. I’m nowhere. It’s all dark.”

“That’s okay, keep going.”

“Go where?” she half yells, frustration already getting the better of her and they just started.

“Anywhere. Whatever feels right.”

“Nothing feels right. There’s nothing to go toward. It’s like I’m in space.”

“Can you try to see the bathroom again? The tub you were in at our last visit.”

Her breath hitches and brows furrow in concentration, one hand flailing for a beat until he takes it and her grip transfers to him instead. “I’m trying, but I can’t…shit…I’m at the park.”

“That’s okay. Tell me about the park.”

“There are kids playing. One of them is mine. This isn’t useful.”

“It could be.”

“It isn’t. It’s random. I don’t ask her name because of course I don’t. I gave it to her. I don’t talk to anyone there, I can’t because I’ve got a black eye under the sunglasses. I don’t recognize anyone. It’s useless. Let’s go somewhere else.”

She’s business-like and firm, leafing through a scene only to discard it a second later without taking in a single moment.

“I think we should take a break for today,” Victor says. “Try again at our next visit.”

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