Page 74 of Heartbeat

“I dunno.” He gently pressed the tip of his fingers on my skin. “It’s bone. I mean, it’s a forehead.”

“Give me your other hand,” I commanded.

I took it and brought it to my forehead, this time, over my right eye. It must’ve looked absolutely mental to whoever decided to take a peek at our table. “See how on the left, the bone is a bit more pronounced than on the right?”

“Oh, yeah… It’s like a horn,” he said, frowning.

“I had this massive bruise for the longest time; Liam called me Hellboy for years.”

He broke out laughing again, slowly removing his hands from my forehead. “So, I was always handsome, and you had a horn?” He raised both eyebrows, teasing, while taking a sip of his water.

“Protuberance,” I said slowly, correcting him.

He spat his drink.

*

Later, as we walked along Perry Street, Ethan asked, “What happened after?”

“After what?”

“After you stopped taking care of everyone.”

“Are you sure you want to know all this?”

“By this, do you mean you?” he asked, smiling. “Yes, I want to know this.”

He seemed so sure. It was so intimidating.

“Well,” I said, taking a deep breath. “It didn’t all happen at once, you know. It sort of gradually got to the point I’m going to tell you.”

“Okay.”

“One day, I was in the basement doing laundry, and I just felt so tired all of a sudden. I went up to my room to rest for a bit but ended up sleeping for three days.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah. When I woke up, I didn’t feel rested though. Like, at all. I didn’t sleep that night either. Or the one after that.”

“Not even a little bit?”

I shook my head. “It’s when I started having trouble sleeping. I’d go without for two, three days straight, and then I’d sleep for a couple of hours, stay awake for two more, and so on.”

“How long did that last?”

“Two months, give or take? One time, I went five days without sleeping, so I sort of just snapped.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“I went to the medicine cabinet and grabbed my mom’s sleeping pills. I took one, but it didn’t work. So I took another—nothing.”

“Nothing?” he repeated, alarmed.

“Nothing. Finally, I started feeling sleepy. By then, I’d taken most of the bottle.”

“Jesus, Tom.”

There it was again. Tom.

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