Page 38 of Built to Last
Rose stands up carefully, using the table for balance. I’m at her side immediately offering my arm for support. She’s cold to the touch and I want to get her back under her blankets as soon as possible.
Rose leans into my side, my arm loosely round her waist just in case she stumbles, as we make our way to her bedroom. It’s a decent size with plain white walls and delicate touches that add a softness to the space—the blush curtains hanging half closed at her window, the array of throw cushions that usually decorate the bed but are currently scattered on the floor. Previously I’ve been too distracted to notice, but as I help Rose to the bed it strikes me as odd for an artist to have such plain walls. The paintings she showed me before are hidden away again, so the only thing indicating her profession is a covered easel in one corner. That must be the new piece she’s started working on. Her duvet is thrown back in a tangled mess from where she’s struggled to get out of bed to answer the door earlier. Rose sits gingerly on the edge of the mattress, then gently lifts her legs upone at a time before lying down carefully. I pull the covers up around her shoulders hiding her cute pyjamas from view.
Before I can pull away Rose lightly places one of her dainty hands over mine.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I start to step back but she holds on.
“Could you—” She sighs, shaking her head. “Never mind, it’s silly.” I miss the weight of her hand on mine when she pulls away. Was she going to ask me to stay? I clear my throat hoping I’m not reading this wrong.
“Would you like me to stay for a while? At least until Aria gets home?”
“You want to stay?” she asks, surprised.
“Of course. But only if you want me here.” Her eyes grow glossy with unshed tears and I worry I’ve read this all wrong. Before I can put my foot any further in my mouth, she reaches out beside her, patting the top of her duvet.
“I’d like that. Come sit with me.” Relief sweeps through me that I won’t have to leave her alone like this. I would have respected her boundaries if she wanted me to go but I’m sure as hell glad to be able to keep an eye on her. I bend down to unlace my boots before kicking them off and settling next to her on top of the covers.
“Is there anything else I can do?” Seeing her like this, I feel helpless. At least she doesn’t seem to be struggling quite so much now she’s lying down again, though I don’t think she’ll stay awake for much longer.
“You’re doing it.” She smiles weakly. “Just you being here helps. It’s nice not to be alone.” Something occurs to me and I have to ask.
“Before, when you talked about your parents, you said they didn’t believe you. Did they leave you alone like this when you were younger?”
“It wasn’t until I started uni that things got this bad. When I was a teenager I started having problems with my joints and they were sympathetic, but when doctors said I was fine that was it in their minds.” She sighs in resignation. “You know it took me years to get a diagnosis? It’s not uncommon. For so long I told doctors something was wrong only to have them say it was all in my head. Just anxiety.” She stares up at the ceiling, her usually bright jade eyes dull, brows pinched like she’s looking into the past. “When someone finally bothered to order basic blood tests they came back clear and instead of looking further they insisted I was fine. Again. It took years before I found a doctor who took my concerns seriously enough to refer me to a specialist. Even then I had to wait eight months for my first appointment with a rheumatologist.” Her voice is thick with emotion as she continues. “But it was worth it. Because after all of that waiting, after years of knowing something wasn’t right and being dismissed over and over again, I finally had my answer. It was such a relief. Even finding out that all of this would never go away, that it was something I would have to learn to manage… Having a name to put to it all—hypermobility with chronic pain and fatigue—changed everything.” She smiles but it’s full of sadness.
“When enough people tell you something is all in your head for long enough you start to doubt yourself. I felt like I was losing my mind at times but Aria helped keep me sane those last few years. It felt sogoodto be able to tell my parents when I finally got my diagnosis. Things had become strained between us when I kept insisting something was wrong even though they couldn’tseeit. They told me I was being dramatic. I thought having a name for what was going on would help us fix things but they refuse to learn more about any of it.”
“I’m sorry.” It’s not enough. I want to make everyone that made Rose doubt herself pay but I know that’s impossible. She sighs wearily.
“This is why I didn’t want you to see me like this yet. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I have a good life. This,” she gestures down at herself, “is just one part of it. Sure, it’s caused a few more hurdles than I expected when I was growing up but I’ve accepted that. If we’re going to have any sort of a future, I need you to accept it too.”
I’m gobsmacked. Rose has been through so much. I can’t believe her parents called herdramatic. It makes me furious on her behalf that she’s so prepared for me to have a negative response when faced with the harsh reality of her conditions, but righteous anger is not what she needs from me right now.
“I don’t feel sorry for you but I am sorry for what you’ve been through. You deserve so much better than that.”
“Thank you.” She squeezes my hand gently. “And I’m sorry for getting so defensive. It’s still a touchy subject, I guess. Sometimes when people find out about my health stuff they assume it means I can’t do anything. While others, like my parents, think I look fine and assume I should still be able to do everything. I just don’t want you to see me at my worst and start second-guessing me.”
“I won’t. I promise, Rose. I can’t say I won’t check in on you sometimes, but that’s not because I think you’re any less capable. It’s just how I show I care. And Idocare about you, Rose. A lot.”
She smiles softly. “I think I can live with that.”
“One more thing.”
She raises a brow at my firm tone. “What’s that?”
“If there’s anything I can do or help with to make your life easier or more comfortable I’m going to do it. I know you don’t need me swooping in to save you, but I also know you won’t askfor help unless you’ve hit your limit. Let me help with some of the little things so you can focus on those big dreams of yours.”
“I’ll work on not insisting on doing every little thing myself. It’s hard though. My parents made me feel like such a burden, Malcolm too. I’ve been doing a lot to unpack all of that but it’s not going to happen overnight. Canyoulive withthat?”
“Absolutely.” I gently pull her into my arms where she belongs. “We’ll figure this out together.”
“Everything is happening so fast, with us I mean. It’s a little overwhelming,” she admits softly. My heart sinks.
Trying to hide how much the thought pains me, I ask, “Do you need us to slow down?”
“No,” she rushes to reassure me and it feels like a ten-ton weight has been lifted off my chest. “I just wasn’t expecting this, you mean so much to me already. I don’t want to mess anything up before we even really get started.”
