Chapter Twenty Nine

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I love you.

Love?

I love you.

I love you?

What the fuck?

What the fuck is love?

"Of course I do. I love you."

He can't love me. He probably loved me as in a brother or friendly way. But we weren't friends, we were boyfriends.

Boyfriend;
a regular male companion with whom one has a romantic or sexual relationship.

But it doesn't say anything about being in love or having to say I love you. We already had sex so us having a pure sexual relationship was out of the picture. Romantic...I had been his nurse for a day but it was nothing romantic. I was just being a good boyfriend to my boyfriend because he was sick.

Oh.

Maybe he said that because he's sick and sick people say random shit. I know I do. "Yeah," I said to myself and smiled. It felt fake, almost if I was in school and took a horrible picture for picture day. "I'm just jumping to conclusions. He doesn't love me."

My smiled widened when I convinced myself that Oakley was very sick and he didn't know what he was talking about. I jumped down from the bar stool and stood in front of the stairs. I took a deep breath and let it slowly, watching the first door that lead to my room, where Oakley was inside. I told him he had to rest and I would be downstairs. He wanted to cuddle with me but him saying I love you raced in my brain. He didn't love me. He couldn't love me. He just couldn't.

I wanted to walk upstairs and ask him why did he say that to me but I was afraid. What am I afraid of? I shook my head and walked back to the kitchen and sat on the bar stool. I reached for my phone that was a few centimeter  away from me and looked through my notifications. The usual people texted me, Aggie and Grant.

Hey, are you okay? ~ Grant

How is Oakley and you? I might come over tomorrow ~ A

It was weird how they both ended a statement or question with their names but I didn't complain. I was going to text Mica when I remembered that he wouldn't be able to text back. Curtis said the police were going to talk to me when he got home from work but I told him I didn't want to talk to anyone right now. I wanted to stay home and take care of Oakley. Curtis thought it was a terrible idea that I was dragging on and making excuses to keep myself away from the police. I, however, didn't want to hear about Mica, even if he was my best friend, and I treated him like shit. I sighed and looked over their messages.

Of course I wasn't okay.

My best friend died in front of me and Oakley was sick, I had a broken friendship with Aggie and Grant was traumatized due to Mica and I kidnapping him. I was going to become a father when my own dad wasn't even a good father. What makes Jada think I can take care of a kid? What makes Jada think me being alone with my own child will make things better? Why did my breathing become shallow? Why are my hands shaking? Why was the world spinning?

I took a deep breath and I felt hands on my cheeks. My head turned and my eyes locked onto deep blue eyes. His lips were moving but I couldn't hear what he was saying. Was he telling me to breathe? Why breathe? I am breathing...right?

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