Chapter 30: Silent Sacrifice

“He’s doing okay,” I replied, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

I had phoned Sarah. After James had fainted, I had called an ambulance and we had rushed him to the doctor. I’d climbed into the ambulance, refusing to be separated from him.

They told me that he was fine, just really tired.

They’d sent him home and I’d helped him into bed. Once he fell asleep, I’d seen my chance to call his mother. I wish I could have called sooner, but I’d been too busy staying at James’s side. When he fell asleep in our bed, I’d made my way to the small living room and dialed her number.

“He’s just been really exhausted lately from all the studying.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Sarah responded, her voice tinged with relief.

“I didn’t even know he was stressed out…”

But I had known. I guess I hadn’t realized the severity of the matter until now. I fidgeted with my hair.

“He did a good job hiding it,” I said.

“James has never been one who likes to admit when he is struggling,” she said.

He didn’t like showing vulnerability. I figured it was because he didn’t want to seem weak, compared to his older brother. And, in his father’s eyes, he wanted to be seen as capable of anything. It didn’t make it right, but it made it understandable.

“He doesn’t want to accept help either…” I say, thinking about all the times I had tried to get him to take a break.

“He is, and has always been, big on his independence…” she admitted.

I nodded, although she couldn’t see me. “He is going to be fine. He really just needs to sleep.”

Sarah let out a soft sigh, “I feel so much better knowing you’re there with him, Keily.”

I felt like I failed him. I felt like he was falling, and I didn’t catch him.

“I’ll, uh, call you again later. Promise,” I said.

“Please do. And tell James, when he wakes up, that I want to speak with him,” she said.

I ran a hand through my hair. “Will do. Bye.”

“Bye.”

I hung up the phone.

Then I walked back into our bedroom and settled into the chair beside the bed. Was this my fault? It kind of felt like it was. His chest rose and fell with every breath. His face, usually so vibrant and animated, now bore the telltale signs of exhaustion. Dark circles marred the skin beneath his closed eyelids. I couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of responsibility that weighed heavily on my conscience.

This was all my fault.

I should have taken better care of him.

I should have helped him.

I should have made him talk to me.

Watching him sleep, I replayed the events of the past few weeks in my mind. Each moment filled with missed opportunities and overlooked signs of distress. I’d seen him drink a triple espresso latte before ~Les Misérables~. I’d watched him fall asleep in the damned theatre! I’d watched him stay up, night after night, to study.

Why had I taken him at his word when he told me that he was fine?

He. Was. Not. ‘Fine’.

I’d severely underestimated how bad he was doing. I should have noticed the toll that James’s relentless studying was taking on him. But I’d been too focused on my own studies and getting good grades.

Why hadn’t I intervened sooner, before it reached this point?

The guilt threatened to overwhelm me. I felt a relentless ache in the pit of my stomach. I had let James down when he needed me most. He had always been there for me. He always supported and encouraged me. And yet when the roles were reversed, I had failed him.

Tears welled up in my eyes. I reached out to gently brush a lock of hair from James’s forehead, my touch feather-light against his clammy skin.

James groaned.

I straightened in my seat as he woke up.

Relief washed over me as he opened his eyes. He rubbed them and ran his hand over his face. My relief quickly dissipated when he looked at me and I noticed the heaviness in his gaze. His eyes, usually bright and full of life, were clouded with a weariness that mirrored the exhaustion etched into his features.

“Keily…”

I reached out instinctively, taking his hand in mine.

“I’m here,” I reassured him softly.

James remained silent, his gaze averted as he struggled to meet my eyes. It felt like there was so much distance between us. I longed to bridge the gap, to ease the tension that hung between us.

Feeling the weight of his silence like a heavy burden, I swallowed hard. The lump in my throat threatened to choke me.

He couldn’t even look at me. I must be the worst girlfriend ever.

“James,” I began, my voice trembling slightly with emotion. “I’m so sorry. I should have noticed sooner. I should have done something to help you.”

Now he looked at me.

For a moment, James’s eyes flickered with surprise. His expression softened, and he held my hand back.

“Keily,” he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness. “You have nothing to apologize for. None of this is your fault.”

“It feels like it is,” I said. A tear rolled down my cheek.

“It’s not,” James said firmly, tightening his grip on my hand. Then his brows pinched together. “What are you doing at home? Don’t you have a test right now?”

“I’m skipping it,” I confessed.

James paled. His reaction made me speak more.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you alone…”

His grip on my hand slackened. And that sent my heart into a panic. As a result, I kept talking.

“It’s just one test, and my grades are already high enough.”

Silence.

I could see the turmoil churning behind James’s eyes as he processed my words. But his lips stayed sealed as he didn’t share his thoughts with me.

Unable to bear the tension any longer, I pushed him to open up to me.

“Please, talk to me. What’s been going on with you?”

He didn’t say a word.

“Why did you push yourself so hard?” I pressed harder.

He hesitated. His gaze fixed somewhere in the distance as he struggled to tell me what he was feeling. But beneath his calm expression, that he tried so hard to maintain, I could see the cracks beginning to form. I could see his vulnerability seeping through.

“And why didn't you say anything?” I continued.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, James relented.

“I’m not doing great at college,” he admitted. He finally met my eyes. “I hate it. I don’t like anthropology, and I just find it boring and confusing.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I didn’t know he felt that way. It was as if a floodgate had been opened, unleashing a torrent of James’s pent-up frustration.

“I wanted to prove to myself, to my parents, that I could do great,” James continued. Now that he had begun opening up, the words seemed to flow freely. “I wanted to stick around college for you, Keily… but it’s not working out.”

He wanted to stay for me. Not because he was happy here….

As he spoke, I could feel my heart breaking for him. I hated that he had been bearing his pain and uncertainty silently. But now that he told me what was wrong, we could work together to make it better, right? Wrong. James’s next words cut into my soul.

“Keily, I’m going to drop out.”