At My Side

By: Lesa

"I'm late."

Two words. One syllable each. But they carried the weight of a sledgehammer.

I didn't expect him to get it. Thought I'd have to explain. "Late for what?" I was sure he'd ask.

But he didn't.

He froze where he was: hovering over the bed that we shared, one knee of the floor, one had pressed against the matress, the other reaching under the bed skirt for his errant shoe.

His eyes, when he finally looked at me, held an understanding, an acceptance that caused my breath to choke in my throat. But even as I watched, doubts began to assail him and his eyes took on that lost, wounded man-child look that every time I saw it made me want to weep, gather him to my chest and just cradle him, cherish him, until it went away. This was the first time that I was the cause of it.

He straightened up slowly, as if his body had aged years in the few seconds since my announcement. He looked down at the floor, as if it pained him just to look at me. I could almost see the thoughts forming in his head.

What will everyone say?

"How late?" His voice was quiet, raspy, as if he were choking back emotions and words best left unsaid.

I sighed. Swallowed. Wanted to cry. Swallowed again. "Almost three weeks."

His gaze, when his eyes met mine, was carefully blank. That penetrating stare that he turns on you when he's feeling vulnerable and lost and doesn't want you to see too deeply inside him. "Are you...Have you...?"

"I don't know. I got one at the store but I haven't used it yet."

Funny, wasn't it, how in tune we were even when we were totally disjointed.

It got quiet for a long time.

Too long.

Whenever he's this quiet for this long it means he's thinking of a gentle way to tell you something you really don't want to hear.

He sighed and I so wanted to cry. Not that I'd expected him to jump up and down for joy, considering who he was. Who I was. That one thought was paramount in both our minds.

What will our fans say?

"Maybe...," he paused, fumbling for words. "Maybe you should take the test. Now. Right now. We could...y'know...be worrying for nothing."

Of course, what he said made sense. It was nothing more than I'd said to myself. Why hadn't I taken the test, then come to him. Why make him suffer the uncertainty?

Because I had to see. I had to know. He says he loves me, but how am I to know that those aren't just so many words? Is it conditional, his love? Would he fair weather it or would he stick by me through thick and thin? When all was said and done, when fans and band mates and parents and managers and press and PR and record companies and everyone else all had their say, would he still be by my side?

I had to know. I hadn't known that I had to know until I'd said those two little words. But it was true. I needed to know.

Wordlessly, I turned to go out to my car to retrieve the small rectangular package that would shape the course of my life.

I was halfway across the room when his words stopped me. "Whatever happens...however it turns out...we'll be okay."

I ignored the question in his voice and focused on the emotion behind it. I had my answer. Yes, we would be okay. And then I wasn't afraid of what the future held. Bring on the managers. Bring on the press. Bring on the fans. Bring it.

Because whatever challenge is thrown our way, we'll meet it. Together. Cause he'd always be with me. At my side.

The End

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