Page 137 of You Make Me Feel
Zach lets out a breath.
“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” I bite my lip. “You wouldn’t be lying there if it wasn’t for me.”
He frowns. “Of course it’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should have fucking seen him. It wasn’t even that dark.”
I blink. “You think this is your fault?”
“I know it is.”
I’m confused. I’m not gonna lie. “How the hell is it yourfault that my idiot ex decided to hit you with a cast iron pan?”
He takes a deep breath, like my question physically hurts him. “Can you grab a chair?” he asks. “I need you to sit down.”
I do as he asks, but there’s a tightness in my chest. Like something is pushing at me. “What’s wrong?” I reach for his hand. “Did they find something in your tests?”
He shakes his head. But the relief is only momentary.
“I have something called Retinitis Pigmentosa. I’m losing my vision. It wasn’t caused by Darien, I’ve had it for a while. And it’s incurable.”
“What?” I lean forward, tears forming in my eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“Please let me explain it. Then you can ask questions.” He lets out a low breath. “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot.”
So I do as he asks, sitting silently as he talks, listening to him describing his vision loss, his visits to the doctor, the fact he’s kept this hidden from everybody but Wyatt for months.
And when he stops talking, the only sound in the room is the beeping of his heart monitor and the sound of blood rushing through my ears.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” I ask him.
He winces. “I told myself it was because I needed to tell my family first.” Because it’s genetic, that’s what he said. “But I think also… I didn’t want you to look at me like you are right now.”
I blink. “How am I looking at you?”
“Like you feel sorry for me.”
A single tear escapes my eyes. “That’s because I am, you idiot.” And then I start thinking about the last few weeks. “When you hunted me through the forest. Did you know then?”
He nods.
“You could have hurt yourself. Run into a tree. Oh God, all this time…”
“And this is why I didn’t want you to know. Because I was fine. I know the forest. I grew up in it, I walked the path for three days. I’m not blind yet.”
My lip wobbles. He took three days out of his life to make sure everything was perfect? God, that kills me.
“But there’s something else,” he says. This time he doesn’t meet my eyes. “Because it’s genetic, there’s every chance if I have kids I could pass it on. I’m not willing to take that risk.”
I frown, not quite understanding him.
“So this thing between us,” he murmurs. “It was always going to be temporary. I can’t take having children away from you.”
And that’s when I realize that he thinks this is a deal breaker.
“What?” I ask, my mouth dropping open.
He recoils at my tone.
“Are you being serious right now?” I ask him. “You think I’d walk away because you can’t have kids?”
