Page 105 of Rebound
I nod, but I don’t know if my head moves properly. Her knuckles brush over my cheek and she smiles when our gazes meet.
“Laxmi gave me some papers to fill out and a link with all the information. Why don’t we go home?”
“I’m fine. We can stay.”
She shakes her head, smile steady but her eyes give her away. “I don’t want to stay.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Nothing to be sorry for, Trick. You good to drive?”
Nodding, I stand when she does. With our hands still linked, we walk out to where my motorcycle is tucked in the shaded area. We don’t speak as we put our layers back on, then once we’re both straddling the bike, I drive us home.
Thirty-Seven. Everything you do is fucking beautiful
Tamara
When he told me about his depression and how it feels, nothing could have prepared me for what it was really like. It’s one thing for him to experience it in his head, but to someone on the outside, it’s far worse. Maybe that’s why he kept it from me for so long.
He shuts down, his body slumps a little and his eyes glaze over before falling closed. He's not there, and yet he is; it's really unsettling. Laxmi noticed it before I did and told me to take my time. She gave me all the necessary paperwork and left us alone. I feel terrible that I didn’t realise what was happening until much later. Until he opened his eyes and fixed them on me.
Through all my research, I learned pretty quickly that depression is different for everyone. Some are unable to function, while others can power through days at a time. Some have no control over it and others medicate heavily. I don’t know where Patrick is on the spectrum and while he’s explained it as well as he can, there’s still so much I don’t understand. To top it off, I’m unclear why he’s being secretive about it. Why doesn’t he want me to see or know?
The drive back home is silent and cautious, he sticks to the left side of the road and rides slowly. We take our time setting our things on the tables by the door and before Patrick can go hide away, I grab his shirt. He stops where he is and drops his head, chin pressing to his chest. He’s so tense, his body tightly wound and my heart hurts for him. I slide my hand up and down his back, hoping it helps him relax. It does, a little. He turns to me and I smile.
“You wanna know?”
Nodding, I close the gap between us, my hand still moving over his back. “I need to know, Trick. I could make this easy and say ‘when you’re ready’, but I don’t know if that’ll ever happen. Today was a little…”
“Scary,” he finishes for me and I sigh, kissing his bicep.
“Before this baby arrives, we have to be on the same page. I know there’s only so much I can do to help, but I want to do that at the very least.”
His jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth and I let his leather and cedar scent wrap around me. His body relaxes further and I close my eyes. Whatever is going on, whatever his demons are, they’re now ours. We’re building a life together, a family. I don’t want him to be alone in this. I know it’ll require tons of work with Dr. Sunita, but this is important. The only way we can support each other is if I know what he needs, how to be there for him. This is no longer about him, it’s about us. And what the future looks like with his depression involved.
“What do you want for dinner?”
“Trick…”
He sighs and turns to face me. “I need to do something with my hands, Lo. Talking about this is…difficult.”
There’s a forcefulness to which he says the word, so I nod. “Idiyappam?1?”
“Still craving sugar?”
I smile and he returns it. “I can make the thenga paal?2 if you tell me how,” I offer.
Patrick cradles my face in his strong hands, thumbs brushing stray curls out of the way. His eyes are saying what his mouth is not and I hate this for him. I hate that his brain makes him go through this regularly and he has to live like this.
“I love you,” he says softly. “I never meant to keep this from you, but it’s a lot. And I don’t want you to be scared, okay? I’m broken and it’s okay.”
I grasp his wrists. “You’re not broken and I’m not looking to fix you. I want to be there for you. And in case you need a reminder, you are the love of my life.”
He smiles, a genuine one for the first time all day, and it knocks the breath out of me. Our lips meet for a brief kiss and then his mouth brushes over my forehead. We hold each other a little longer before he steps back.
“I’m gonna change, then we can cook.”
His walk is a little stilted, but I wait until he’s out of sight before exhaling loudly. I grew up struggling with my anxiety and the way my brain convinced me I was fat and ugly. I wonder if that’s what his depression feels like, if it’s telling him he’s all the things he’s not. Making him feel less than. I untie my hair and shake out my curls, giving them a chance to breathe. Then I gather it into a loose bun on top of my head. I strip out of my jeans and feel the relief as I drape them over the back of a chair and wander around the kitchen in my large printed shirt.
