Page 33 of Drop Shot
I shrug, not meeting his eyes because I’ve already caught a glimpse of the genuine hurt in his dark-eyed gaze. “I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t do my job. I’ve had lupus for years, but it took until then to get a diagnosis.”
His voice is soft when he says, “I wouldn’t have thought that Whim. I might’ve made things a little easier for you. Tried to?—”
Pressing my hand to his mouth to quiet him, I say, “That’s exactly what Ididn’twant. Getting my diagnosis has made things easier for me. It’s not always great, like today, but it’s much more manageable. I knew you’d try to make concessions for me and I didn’t want that. Okay? Please don’t feel bad.”
I let my hand fall away from his mouth. “I wish you’d told me. Does Ebba know?”
Shaking my head, I let my body fall back against the couch cushions. “No. I knew I couldn’t trust her not to tell you because she’d be trying to help me.”
His frown only deepens and my stomach sinks. “I really wish you’d told us.”
“To be honest”— let my eyes drop to my lap— “even though I suspected I had lupus, getting the diagnosis was still a bit of a shock. It … changed things, I guess. Made it even more real. Suddenly this thing that had been plaguing me for years had a name and even though I was so happy to have answers, and medication to help, a part of me was really angry. I’m not … I’m never going to be normal, you know? Lupus has no cure currently, so my life is just before the disease and after the disease now. At least that’s how I view it in my brain.”
I hope I’m making sense. It barely makes sense in my own head. But the thing I’ve learned about navigating a chronic illness is, it’s so much more than what it does to your body. There’s an extreme mental toll too. Most days, I’m okay, but sometimes I get so angry I feel like I could shatter every plate in my cabinets because how dare my body betray me like this? How dare it fail to function like it should?
He stares at me for a long moment. I squirm beneath his steady gaze, resisting the urge to look at the TV so I don’t have to endure his scrutiny. Finally, he says, “I hope you know I wouldn’t have judged you or thought less of you. If anything, Whim, I think more of you.”
“Thanks,” I say, voice a little watery.
“You said today isn’t a great day with your lupus—what does that mean? I want to understand so maybe I can help?”
“My joints are achy and swollen,” I admit. It feels so strange to say it out loud to him. “And I’m extra tired today. Not like a normal tired like you’ve done too much and need to rest up. This is more bone deep.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. Normally people apologizing to me about my own illness irks me, it’s not their fault I’m sick, but there’s something in the way that Elias says it that doesn’t feel like pity.
“Thanks.” I fluff the pillow behind me.
“Is there something I can do to help you feel better?” he asks.
I eye him in surprise. I can tell from the set of his mouth that he’s serious and not just asking to be nice.
I flex my toes.
“I’m okay.”
He doesn’t miss the gesture and grabs my foot, tugging it into his lap. “I’ll rub your feet.”
“Elias,” I giggle. “You don’t need to do that. Trust me.”
“I offered, didn’t I?” he retorts, digging his thumb into my arch.
An obscene sound flies out of my throat.
“See, feels good, doesn’t it?” He grins at me.
“Yes,” I admit begrudgingly. “But I’m sure you have better things to do than rub my feet.”
I’m not sure why I keep trying to talk him out of it when it feels so freaking good.
“Just shut up and enjoy it, Whim.”
I mime zipping my lips and restart the movie. Missing anything of Jeff Goldblum should be a crime.
“I don’t think I’ve watched this one,” he says about twenty minutes into the movie.
My jaw drops and I pause it. “You’ve never watchedThe Lost World?What aboutJurassic Park III?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t think so. Only the original and one of the new ones.”
