“Needles. Being alone. People pitying her.”
The wind stirred the grass.
“She hated when you measured her.”
Daniel’s smile disappeared.
“Yes.”
“Why did you keep doing it?”
“Because the doctor said tracking changes could help.”
“That’s the practical answer.”
He stared at Rebecca’s name.
“The real answer is that numbers made me feel useful.”
There it was.
Not love.
Not exactly.
Helplessness wearing the clothes of usefulness.
“I think that’s what you’ve been doing to me,” I said.
“I know.”
“No. Listen.”
He did.
“You weren’t protecting me, Daniel. You were protecting yourself from being helpless again.”
He closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“And every time I let you check me, I was helping you avoid facing that fear.”
“Yes.”
“And I thought keeping you calm was part of loving you.”
His voice became rough.
“I taught you that.”
I didn’t answer.
After a while, we walked back toward the car.
