Perfecting Patience

Page 8

I was dying. After years of torture, I was finally dying. Right when I thought everything was perfect in my world, right when I had everything I wanted, I was going to drop dead. What else could I expect? I should have known something like this would happen.
I felt Zeke’s arms come around me and I fell against him, gasping for air. I was in the final stages of accepting this death when suddenly the pressure on my chest lifted and I was able to gobble up as much air as my lungs could hold. Everything slowed down and the shudders that wracked my body began to ease. My head cleared and I didn’t feel like I was going to pass out anymore. Just as quickly as everything started, it went away.
I wasn’t sure what just happened, but I knew it wasn’t normal.
“Are you okay, baby? Do I need to call someone?” Zeke asked as he softly pushed the hair away from my cheeks.
My face was covered in sweat. I felt a tiny drop fall from the tip of my nose and roll down my lips. It took a minute to respond, but when I did, the words hurt my throat.
“I’m okay. I don’t know what just happened.” I wiped at my sweaty cheek with the back of my hand.
“You just scared the shit out of me. Are you sure you’re okay? Let me take you to the hospital and get you checked. You’re so pale. You looked like you were about to pass out.”
I looked up into his brown eyes and I hated the worry I saw there. Since the moment he met me, he’d had to worry about me. I knew what that felt like. I’d worried about Sydney for most of my life and there I was about to walk away from the person I loved because of it. He was trying to do the same by staying here with me instead of finishing his tour with the band. I couldn’t let him do it.
“No, I’m okay. I promise.”
As the world came back to me completely, I understood that I’d just had a massive panic attack. I remembered my mom having one at the doctor’s office years ago. The doctor had given her a shot of something and she calmed down quickly. I could remember reading about them and thinking it didn’t sound as bad as it looked. I was never more wrong. It was crazy to feel like I was dying slowly.
For months, I thought I was getting better. I thought I was moving past my past, but in that moment I realized I was just as sick as I always was. Sadness swooped in and filled me. My aunt Sarah had once suggested I seek medical help, but I blew it off and told her I was fine. I thought for sure my depression was somehow linked to Zeke and the fact that I missed him so much, but maybe it was more. Actually, I was positive it was more.
I wanted to be good for him. I wanted to be well for him. I didn’t want to be some sick girl that tagged along with his band or some selfish bitch that was the cause behind him giving up something he loved so much. Ten years from now, he’d hate me, and there would be nothing I could say because I’d hate me, too. No. I couldn’t allow it.
I wanted to be with Zeke. I loved my sister, but nothing was holding me in Florida. I knew in the back of my head that she didn’t need me anymore and if asked, she would tell me to rush off into the California sun with the man I loved. But I felt panic just thinking about it. I felt anxiety thinking about leaving Sydney, and I felt it thinking about being without Zeke.
The best thing I could do, was take Aunt Sarah up on her medical help offer, get better, and then run away with Zeke. That’s if he was willing to wait for me. I couldn’t ask him to wait for me, of course, but I had to hope he loved me enough to give me time. I had to hope that what we had would hold as I got through one more thing, and then I’d be perfect for him.
“Zeke, you have to go with the boys,” I whispered.
He looked down at me with question in his eyes and I knew he was wondering what I was thinking. I was too embarrassed to tell him my plan. After everything he’d seen me go through, this last thing I wanted to keep to myself. I didn’t want him to run after realizing that even after my dad was taken out of the equation, I was still sick.
“I’m not leaving you, snowflake. You’re where I want to be. I’ll find a job or something. It’s not a big deal.” He softly rubbed my shoulders as he tried to coerce me into ruining his life.
“No. I can’t let you do that.”
“Why? If it’s what I want, that’s all that should matter. Unless… Do you not want to be with me?”
It was his turn to panic. I could see it bubbling just beneath his surface.
I had to think on my toes. I refused to tell him I needed help. Instead, I went for the thing that was most believable.
“I want to be with you more than anything. It’s just… I got a full soccer scholarship to Florida State,” I blurted out.