Eighty Days of Heartache

the forty-seventh day; [2]

THE FORTY—SEVENTH DAY;
» PART [2]

NERO CAN'T EVEN look at me the same.

I see the sympathy his glossy emerald eyes hold, as they glitter with sadness and sorrow. I can tell his heart aches they way mine has done for the last year, because his lips are pinched into a tight line; nose thinning as if to hold back the tears.

Groggily he asks, "how badly hurt were you?" Which isn't a question I was expecting from him. I was expecting endless apologies about how sorry he was I had to go through that; an apology about how he shouldn't have ranted and raved, in front of so many people at Kathleen's party. I was expecting him to grovel.

Not to pain either of us any further.

I roll my own lips together, blinking as I avoid eye contact with him. It's hard not to spiral, when discussing the main thing which caused the domino affect that lead to my original spiralling.

"I broke majority of my bones on my left side, because the impact of the other car got both only the passenger side where I was sitting," tucking my knees under my chin and my legs tightly to my chest, I continue. "So broken arm, four broken ribs, punctured left lung, and severe concussion."

Silence seeps between us as I leave out the worst of my injuries. As much as I hope this goes unnoticed by Nero, it doesn't. "There's more, isn't there?"

I nod silently, a soft sob leaving my lips as I stare down at the steps beneath my feet. "The— the impact of the seatbelt and airbag, caused myocardial contusion; severe bruising of the heart."

Nero tugs at the hair which falls in front of his eyes. "Jesus fucking— that had to— how did that —" I don't think I've ever seen Nero at a loss for words before. He's always been so calm and collected, but I don't have time to savour the golden boy's downfall, if you want to label his stuttering as that.

"Commonly, myocardial contusion leads to irregular heartbeat patterns, or arrhythmia as it's also known as, where your heart beats either too fast or too slow. Mine was too slow."

Shakily, I press a hand against my chest where my abused heart lies. It's so sad and heavy between my lungs, which are full of stagnant oxygen because breathing is so hard to do, when you're so close to spiralling.

I close my eyes for a moment. Take a deep breath, replace the old oxygen with the new oxygen. And repeat my mantra which I'll die repeating to myself.

I will not spiral.

I open my eyes, still heavily focusing on my breathing pattern as I block Nero out for a moment. I can feel his hand fall gently between my shoulder blades, as he gives me a comforting rub, like you would to a sobbing child.

His touch is soothing, but it's nothing like Theo's was yesterday. A part of me wonder's how Nero would react, if he knew the boy who he hated the most, coddled me like a toddler in Kathleen's toilet whilst my heart broke for a second time.

I don't want to poke the bear.

"How do you... treat arrhythmia?" After several minutes of his soothing touch on my back, I look at Nero's puppy eyes and tousled hair as I rest my head on his chest. "Is it incurable?"