Astonished, I blurt, “I do love you. But maybe love’s not the only issue.”
“You know what? That’s enough. This conversation’s going nowhere and it’s pissing me off. We shouldn’t talk again unless you decide to come home before I choose to move on. Until then, we’ll each muddle through on our own.”
His parting threat deepens the crack between us, creating a sinkhole. I realize he may well move on before I’ve reconciled my own feelings. But I suppose it’s basically what I’ve done to him already. It’d be selfish to restrict his freedom after I’ve moved across the country. If we can’t wait it out a few months, we really weren’t meant to be together.
“I’m sorry I’ve hurt you, Rob. Despite everything, you hold a big part of my heart in your hands.”
I hang up before he replies or I burst into tears. I sink back into my chair. Some of the tension I’d been carrying around these past two days dissipates. At least now Rob knows what I’m thinking, even if he mocked me. Of course, I concealed my growing attraction to Levi. The hypocrisy of my situation slowly tightens like a noose wrapped around my neck.
If Rob and Levi didn’t exist, what would I be doing? What would I want to accomplish? Honestly, I always have been happiest when helping others. Maybe that’s where I start; maybe my purpose is service. But what kind of service?
Do I want to reinvest the time and money to reeducate myself as a doctor, nurse, or therapist so I can help people battling illness or an emotional crisis? What if I undertake that commitment and end up hating the actual job?
Perhaps I can volunteer at a hospital or shelter for abused women or some other organization, and figure out if I’ve got the skills to assist people with serious problems. After all, the only volunteering I’ve done has involved working on fund-raising committees for my school’s endowment fund and a local museum. Not exactly tough stuff.
This endless cycle of thoughts exhausts me, so I climb into bed early and pass out.
I forgo my morning run when I finally awaken. It’s already eight o’clock. Levi’s been wheeled into surgery by now, while I lie snuggled under my fluffy down blanket. I know he’s terrified, yet I’m intentionally staying away. I feel like a brat for punishing him just because he hurt my feelings. His lashing out probably had more to do with my prying than with our relationship.
He’d bravely peeled back his carefully constructed mask for me, exposing the most painful, disgraceful truths of his life. I’d been so intent on finding answers, I failed to consider how dredging up those old injuries might affect him. Now, in his moment of need, I’ve let my pride supersede decency.
I’ve essentially proven to him, once again, he can’t rely on anyone. Worse, he probably thinks I’ve abandoned him because of what he shared. I left him sitting alone all night, worried about paralysis. Remorse pricks my heart.
I need to go to him today, if only to show not everyone will desert him. I’ll adjust my expectations of our friendship, but I won’t withdraw it completely.
When I’m descending Levi’s stairs with his mail in hand, Elena spots me. Oh, great.
“Lindsey, didn’t expect to catch you on a morning walk of shame.” Her jovial tone fails to screen the resentful shimmer in her eyes.
“Oh, no, Elena. He isn’t home. I’m just picking up his mail for him.” I hold up the envelopes as proof. “He’s in the hospital.”
Elena cocks her head. “What happened?”
He’ll probably be livid with me for disclosing personal information, but to hell with him and his artificial walls.
“A few weeks ago he fell victim to a hit and run, resulting in emergency spinal surgery. He’s in surgery again for a blood infection, but hopefully everything will turn out fine.”
“Santa Monica Trauma?” Elena asks.
“Yes.” I see the wheels turning behind her eyes as she plans the next move in her imaginary contest for Levi’s affection. Jealousy pierces me when I picture her comforting him in my stead. “Elena, if you go visit him, don’t expect a cheerful greeting. The surgery’s very painful.”
“Obviously you braved it. I’ve known him longer than you anyway.” Her posture issues her challenge. “I’m as willing as you are to lend a helping hand.”
I don’t need to get in a turf war. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”
Elena nods and marches home.
I decide to be productive until I’m sure Levi’s out of the recovery room. Revisiting the idea of charity work, I research organizations focused on supporting the needs of children. Within seconds I have a list of sites to research. Google rocks.