CHAPTER 43

"Earth to Levi."

My eyes snap in the direction of my mom's screech. It's not an actual screech but all the sounds are the same to me right now. My mom's words are, in fact, a near whisper. Baby Jonah has stomach cramps. We're all walking on eggshells and whispering because Mary and David finally got him to lie down (on his stomach, propped up on his knees, my mother said) and we can finally get started on dinner.

"Sorry, Mom. Here." I hand her a set of plates for the dinner table. "You said the green and white ones with the holly print, right?"

My mother smiles, tight and fake. "Our theme is blue and silver this year, Levi—" She waves her hand around the kitchen, currently covered in (indeed) blue and silver Christmas decorations. "I asked for the blue and silver plates I bought last month."

I take the green and white ones back. "Oh, Sorry." Turning to the cupboard for the blue and silver plates, I lose my grip on the stack of plates in my hand.

I must've turned too quickly.

"Oh my God. Levi."

Shit.

Dad comes rushing into the kitchen. Followed by David and Mary. "The baby," David whisper-shouts, looking every bit the distraught new dad I imagine distraught new dads would look like. I would be too if I had a colicky two-month-old. I learned that word – colicky – twenty minutes ago. They haven't slept in nearly two months, David told me earlier.

"We just managed to get him down," he groans. And just like that, a siren of a scream echoes through the house, sending Mary bolting out of the kitchen.

"You alright there, Levi?" Dad asks at the same time Mom shrieks, "How do you break a whole stack of plates, Levi? I've had those for thirty-five years."

I ignore Dad and focus on Mom. "I'm so sorry," I say, rushing past her to get the broom. I'm such a fucking idiot.

"I'll clean it up," I say.

Dad sighs and goes back into the living room. David sighs and follows Dad. Mom sighs. Everybody fucking just sighs.

"Levi, I thought you said you were okay," Mom says, grabbing the broom out of my hand when I return to the crime scene.

"I am okay." I'm not, and I'm only maybe one or two more catastrophes from landing in the hospital; I can feel it. I thought about taking my meds, just to calm down a little, but the thought of crashing and showing up at my parents' house looking like a depressed Grinch and acting like Scrooge felt like a death sentence. As for my obsessive thoughts about Nicholas and threatening to get sex somewhere else . . . I"m unable to cope with any of it.

"You're acting like you can't sit still for even one second. God. Thirty-five years. These were the last of my and your dad's wedding gifts." She tut-tuts while she sweeps up the mess. "How disappointing."

I stand next to her, picking at my lips, feeling every bit the idiot I am.

"Stop picking at your lips, Levi," she snaps.

"Sorry," I snap back suddenly. I hadn't meant to make it come out so rude, but it's too late now. My mother straightens her back and glares at me. Somewhere in the background, baby Jonah's cries escalate.

"Don't you take that tone with me, Levi. Are you manic? Just get your mind right. It's mind over matter. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"It was an accident," I say. "I'm sorry. I didn't break them because I'm manic."

She narrows her eyes. "So, you are manic?"

My face blooms with shame. "Yes," I grind out.

She throws her hands up in the air and stomps off. "Hank," she calls, on her way out of the kitchen. "Hank!"

I stand in the kitchen, frozen. Their voices carry from the living room.

Mom: "He's manic, Hank. On Christmas."

Dad: "Leave him alone, Elaine. The plates must've slipped."

Mom: "And if he ends up in the hospital again? Or worse? And do you know how long it took us to get the baby down to sleep?"

I will the tears away. It's Christmas. I should be happy I'm not alone. That I have family around me. It's fine. I'm fine. Everything is fine. I reach into the cupboard for the silver and blue plates. Holding them carefully, I take them to the dinner table. Mom hurries to me and takes the plates from my hand. "Give these to me. They cost me a fortune."

I let her pull them out of my hand.

Mary walks around the room with the baby, bouncing him and patting his back. He's still screaming.

David sits on the couch with his head tilted all the way back and his eyes pinched closed. I wipe my hands on my pants and step into the living room.

"Uh, Mary?" I say softly.

"Yeah, Levi?" she whispers.

"I'm sorry I woke him. Maybe I can hold him for a bit if you're too tired?"

"No, Levi," David says firmly. Not unkindly. Just very firm. I know he's not trying to be cruel, but it still doesn't lessen the impact. "You're manic. You might forget you're holding a baby and drop him."

My stomach churns sickeningly. Mary shushes David and smiles at me. "You can hold him."

But David is right. I just killed my mother's thirty-five-year-old set of plates. I shouldn't be trusted with holding a baby.

"No, it's fine. If it makes you feel better, you can sit down with him," Mary says while she continues to rock the crying baby.

"No, David's right. I – I—"

I need to get out of here. Like an avalanche descending upon me, my mania reaches its peak, triggered to that level by the thought of holding David's baby and dropping him like I dropped the plates.

I spin around.

"Levi," Dad calls after me.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper to myself as tears gather behind my eyelids.

"Levi, don't you dare walk out on us on Christmas." Mom's high-pitched voice pierces my eardrums.

I'm such a burden. They don't need me here. No one needs me here. What was I thinking coming here?

I don't stop until I'm in the car, my family's calls for me not to leave ringing in my ears. I stop at my apartment briefly and it's not long before I'm parked outside Hayden's estate.

The security guard on duty waves at me, wishes me a Merry Christmas, and lets me in, all before I've said even one word. His assumption that I'm an invited guest, like I have been these last few months tells me that Hayden is home. Soon I'm ringing his doorbell with a wrapped painting tucked under my arm.

It must've been only a minute, but it feels like forever waiting for Hayden to open the door.

I think he's been drinking. His hair is disheveled, and his eyes are unfocused.

"Levi," he says. For a moment, his eyes clear up and I think he's happy I'm here. It's gone in an instant, replaced by an uncharacteristic hardness.

"Hayden," I croak.

"What do you want?" The hardness in his eyes seeps into his tone.

"M-merry Christmas." My heart pounds.

"Fuck Christmas. And fuck you."

I feel his rejection inside my bones. It sinks deep, reinforcing every stinking thing I hate about myself.

"I fucked things up at my parents" place," I say desperately. "I didn"t know where else to go."

He turns and walks into the house.

I follow, entirely expecting him to turn around and throw me out.

He walks into the kitchen. I stand at the opposite end of the island, where his peace lily sits. "I got you something," I say carefully. He's angry.

"Thanks."

I slide the wrapped canvas across the island.

"Was it good?" he asks while he rips the wrapping off.

"I didn't do anything."

He inspects my face contemptuously. "You're a liar. You are all liars."

"We are. But I'm telling the truth now."

The canvas lies face down on the counter. Hayden looks at me with murder in his eyes.

"Why didn't you ever tell me it was Nicholas who had Bipolar Disorder?" I ask quietly.

"You didn't figure it out?" He sneers. "It was none of your business."

"I have never met anyone with so much compassion for someone living with a mental disorder. He was very lucky to have you."

Hayden is definitely drunk. Angry drunk. He doesn't turn the canvas over. Instead, he walks over to me, his face looking like he's about to slaughter me.

"You're still manic," he says right into my face.

"Yes, right now, but I'm in a mixed episode. I could crash anytime. I'm all over the place."

"You're going to end up in the hospital." He tries to hide the tenderness in his voice, but I hear it. Just barely, but it's there.

"Yes, I think so. Maybe this time I won't come back." I know it's a dick move, but I can't bear his tenderness any more than I can bear his rejection.

"You want me to fuck you? You want to manic-fuck again, Levi? Is that why you're here?"

The answer is yes, because I'm so fucking hot for it right now, and no, because I'm too fucking manic. I don't know which answer he's looking for.

I go with the truth of the moment. "Yes," I whisper.

"Yeah? Why? So you can tell me tomorrow how used you feel? How I should've known better than to fuck you while you were out of your mind? How I should have upheld your fucking boundaries?"

Knowing Nicholas lived with Bipolar Disorder makes everything Hayden is saying sound so much worse.

At the same time, this hard version of Hayden turns me on to a degree of want I've never experienced before. I want his rough, unfiltered, uncensored fucking.

"Did Nicholas do that?" I ask bravely, knowing I have no right to know anything about this incredible man standing before me.

He surprises me by answering. "Yes." The pain in his voice is unmistakable.

And that gives me more courage. "He blamed you afterward?"

"Yes."

"In the videos on the phone, that was—"

—"the furthest thing away from who he was when he was stable," he says coldly.

"I wouldn't—"

Hayden glares at me, daring me to finish the sentence.

"Wouldn't what? Tell me after that I'm only in it for the sex? Wouldn't cringe every time I try to touch you afterward, like I'm some kind of filth you need to wash off?"

Oh, Hayden. I swallow down the bile rising up to choke me. My brain processes his words with some calmness. The noise inside my head, I notice, is slowing down. Is there a chance I might finally be coming off this high? Please, God. Don't let me crash from this height. Give me just one stable fucking moment to talk to Hayden.

"I wouldn't. I promise." My voice breaks because I know promises from someone like me mean nothing.

"You should know better than to make promises, Levi," Hayden bites out.

I step closer. "We're not all the same, Hayden. What you're talking about isn't part of my experience with Bipolar Disorder. I wouldn't blame you after because I would want you like that even when I'm stable. Maybe not when I'm low because I wouldn't have the energy, but, every other time, I'd want you like that. Wild and out of control," I whisper. "I want to be like that with you. I want to feel you inside me, and I want to know what it feels like to be inside you. And I want it to be hard and brutal. I want you to fucking choke me with your cock and your hands. I'm not afraid of your brutality, Hayden. I want it. I want it as much as you do. Manic or not, I want it so bad."

All thoughts about that poor peace lily and the canvas of Nicholas flee.

Hayden grabs my chin between his thumb and index fingers. "Brutality?"

"Yes. You want it that way. And I do too."

"You went looking for sex somewhere else," he hisses. His grip on my chin increases.

"I didn't get it – take it – I didn't take it."

He brings his lips to mine, kissing me aggressively. I'm so hard for him. Opening my mouth, I salivate into his, exchanging saliva messily. Hayden sucks across my lips, up my cheek. "You propositioned someone and then backed out?"

My shame is outweighed by my desire for this man. "Yes."

Hayden's tongue follows the curve of my ear, ending with a sharp bite to my earlobe. I groan, falling into his arms. He doesn't hold me. It doesn't matter. His body crowds me in a way that makes me feel like I've been absorbed right into his skin.

"How can I know you're telling the truth, Levi? How can I know you won"t do it again?" His tongue drags across my cheek again. This man is sucking my motherfucking face, and all I can do is turn into the crook of his shoulder, trembling with the need to fuck him and have him fuck me. My desire to claim him and be claimed by him overtakes me.

"You can't," I whisper honestly. "I'm sorry." My apology is the truest thing I've ever offered anyone. I'm sorry for who I am. I'm sorry for being this way. Forgive me for entering your life and ruining everything.

My arms circle his waist, holding onto him. Don't make me leave you. Don't leave me. Let me have you, and please have me. Please have me.

I reach for his mouth, kissing him while he walks us backward, out of the kitchen. My lips never leave his and by the time we reach his bedroom, I'm a fucking savage.

"I want you," I whisper into Hayden's mouth.

Hayden eats my face, licking from chin to cheekbone, kissing my closed eyes. Down my nose, over my lips and then sucking my chin into his mouth.

"I want you right now, Hayden. I want everything."

His fingers slide into my hair, pulling hard. I let my head tip backward with the strength of his movements, groaning deeply at the surge of electricity flying through me and exploding in my groin.

"Let me fuck you," I whisper into his mouth. "Let me have you like this, please, Hayden." I need to forget everything. My family and how I ruin their lives. How much I'll ruin Hayden's life if he lets me stay. I want to forget everything but this moment.

"You want to be inside me, Levi?" Hayden bites my lower lip so hard I'm sure he's split the skin. He's drunk, and I'm manic, deep inside a mixed episode. What a combination. We'll destroy each other, and I will burn in this hellfire if it means I can have this one moment.

"Fuck, yeah," I whisper, going to war with his belt, the buttons on his shirt, trying to get him naked while he walks us to the bed. He wastes no time stripping me of my clothing and then shoves me onto the mattress. He's strong, pinning me down with fury in his eyes as he attacks my mouth again. But Hayden's wildness only magnifies mine. I push hard until I've rolled him onto his back.

My knees sink into the mattress as I straddle him. My ass slides over his hairy thighs, while I rock my hips trying to get our balls to rub together. Hayden tilts his hips forward, seeking the titillating friction of having our cocks slide up against each other.

"Let's forget about tomorrow and all the days after that, Hayden," I pant against his mouth. My hands race over his naked skin, grabbing and squeezing his muscled chest. Scraping my nails over his abdomen. He hisses when I bend to take his nipple between my teeth, lifting his chest for my mouth.

"This is reckless, and you know it," he murmurs against my shoulder.

I reach up to kiss him again. "I consent, Hayden," I whisper into our kiss. Now that I know why he holds back so much, I try to assure him that I'm okay to be with him like this, even though I'm manic. "You make it safe for me to be like this while I"m manic."

He lets out a low growl, pulls me to him and takes my mouth with his. It's a kiss filled with uncertainty and pain, but also a great and devastating need to find something beautiful within this chaos.

Hayden wraps his arms around my back, pulling me even closer as he kisses me like he's looking for something, knowing whatever he's looking for can never be found. Within this kiss, I, too, search for all the things that cannot be found. All the things I cannot have – safety, stability, love. Hayden. He's here with me, yet he's not really here any more than I am. He's intoxicated and lost in his grief. I'm lost – trapped – in manic anguish.

Our nakedness, sliding against each other, contrasts with the secrets we keep. We bare our bodies to each other but not our souls. Not the things that cause us to break apart inside.

Yet, still, we kiss. Searching. Hoping. Holding on to whatever it is that draws us to each other. For others, maybe it was love at first sight. For me and Hayden, maybe it was pain at first sight. He saw mine, and I saw his, and we fell in love. But for us, falling in love is not enough. For us, there is an insurmountable amount of work that must be done before we can claim any kind of love story.

Hayden slows us down and then flips us over. He grabs a condom and lube from the floor next to us. Sheaths himself. My disappointment is catastrophic, but short-lived. He enters me with fury, striking me with the lightning of whatever suffering he has endured before me and because of me. I meet him in his suffering, thrust for thrust, because I am suffering too.

Hayden's groans are sharp and uncontrolled, his fingers digging into my hip and his other hand wrapped around my throat. Even from deep within my own storm, I am in awe of the sight of Hayden in ecstasy. He is magnificent. A beast. A beautiful, angry beast who has finally broken through the iron bars that have kept him enslaved, and I cry out as he plunges into me over and over again, holding nothing back.

My cries intensify as I get ready to come. Hayden brings his lips to mine, biting down on my bottom lip. I bite hard on his top lip and maybe we drew blood. "Don't come," he instructs against my teeth.

"Hayden, I can't—"

I have to come. Now.

He pulls out of me. I grab his ass, pulling him back. "No, Hayden, no. Please."

He leans back to create space between our bodies. Then reaches for another condom, and, in one heart stopping moment, he rolls the condom down my cock. My chest explodes. Saliva gathers in my mouth. And out of nowhere, tears rush to the surface. I don't deserve this. I'm nothing but a burden. I'll weigh him down. Drag him with me into the dark waters. I'll be the boulder chained to his neck, dragging him into an infinite sea of chaos and pain.

Hayden lifts his eyes to mine. So much sadness mixed with his desire. Do my eyes reflect the same? His sadness for Nicholas. Mine for my inability to be whole for him. For only being able to offer him a few broken pieces of who I might be.

I think I'm going to crash. Tears fall onto my cheeks. Mixed episodes are the cruelest of all episodes.

Please, God, let me stay in my mania just a little while longer.

Just long enough to accept this gift Hayden is offering me. A dirty, shameful prayer. He's offering me a piece of his soul and I can't let him down.

Hayden swipes my tears gently with the pad of his thumb. "Make it good, Levi," he whispers against my lips, pressing the lube into my palm.

He removes his condom, then shifts his body until he's on his back. My heart hammers. My brain battles to understand the chemical changes underway. I hold onto my mania. I need Hayden before I crash. I need to make it good for him, and fucking damnit, I need the energy to do that. For once, can this fucking manic-me do something right.

He looks up at me. The intensity I find there spurs me to move. My hand slides down the underside of his thighs. I turn my face to kiss his calf. Rub my cheek gently over the muscle there, fighting to stay in the moment and enjoy the soft tickle of his leg hair against my cheek. My lips move upward, licking up his hairy leg, pressing kisses to the back of his knee. Further up to his inner thigh. When I reach his cock, Hayden inhales sharply, bringing his fingers to my hair and locking me there.

"Hayden," I whisper against his cock. Again, "Hayden," as I rub my cheek over his length. His name feels reverent on my lips. Hayden is the calm to my storm. The stillness inside my chaos. I'm in love with him.

As my mixed episode begins its descent, I realize, with rare clarity, that I am, without doubt, in love with Hayden. Kneeling between his thighs, with the side of my head resting against the apex of his thighs, I take him into my mouth. He gasps, sharp and hard, jerking inside my mouth. I suck him like this, soft and gentle, while I snap open the cap of the lube and apply some to my fingers.

With my mouth still full, I slide my fingers down his balls, squeezing slightly on my way further down.

My fingers graze his asshole. Hayden lifts his hips, giving me more access.

"Is that all you've got?" he rasps.

I let him go, rising to kiss him again. "You are a fucking dream," I whisper into his mouth.

"Make it fucking real, Levi." It's a command, flung forcefully into our kiss.

"I'm still manic, but I'm falling," I admit between kisses.

"Show me while you can," he says. My lips throb with the force of his kisses.

So, I do. I let go. I let it all go, knowing after this, I may end up in a hospital, and I may never see Hayden again.

I bite his bottom lip so hard he moans loudly. Nip my way down his chest, squeezing his nipples between my thumb and forefinger. He loves that too.

Sucking my way down his abs, I bury my face into his pubic area, dying over the feel of the coarse hair tickling my face. With Hayden's dick caught tightly inside my fist, I lick his balls, and then take as much of him into my mouth as I can. He groans and I take more of him, sucking and losing my already lost mind in the feel of his nuts inside my mouth.

It's not enough. Letting go of his balls, I pull his cock into my mouth and deep into my throat. I choke, but I'm too far gone. I don't fucking care if I die tonight.

His balls and his cock aren't enough. I let them go, my hands spreading Hayden's cheeks apart while my mouth chases the line leading to his hole.

I don't bother with a prelude. I shove my face into his ass, eating him like a fucking meal. My tongue spears into his hole, saliva coating this most beautiful part of his body.

I worship Hayden's ass with my mouth and my tongue. He grunts and pants, and we sound like animals in heat, breeding each other.

"Hayden, fuck. This hole is so fucking hot. I want to suck this hole forever. Give it to me, Hayden, babe. Loosen up for me. Let me fuck you with my tongue."

He flexes. Ah, fuck. I play with him, pushing my tongue in as far as I can. And then I flatten the pads of my thumbs over his hole, smoothing him out. My eyes can't take the sight of him. He's so beautiful, flattened and spread out for me. With my hands spreading his cheeks and my thumbs pressed on each side of his asshole, I bury my face in his ass again, flattening my tongue and licking him wet with long strokes.

Then, I add my lubed fingers, sliding in just one finger first because I'm unwilling to take my mouth off Hayden's ass.

His grip on my hair tightens even more and I live and die inside the pleasure of the pain and the manly grunts of approval falling from Hayden's lips.

Soon, I'm eating him, biting and sucking, and still, it's not enough.

Hayden drags me up by my hair, tilts his hips forward and crashes his lips to mine.

I reach down, angle my cock, and press into his hole.

He groans inside my mouth. I can hardly breathe.

"I can take you," he whispers.

"Still, I should be careful," I pant.

"Give it to me, Levi."

A second time, I let go, surging forward deep inside Hayden.

His heel digs into my back. "Move," he orders.

I move. Slow at first, with my lips smashed against his.

"Harder." The command in his voice makes me swell inside him, and, within seconds, I'm fucking Hayden hard and fast, my forehead pressed to his, my tongue deep inside his mouth.

"I won't last," I gasp into our kiss.

Hayden sucks on my tongue before pulling back to whisper, "Look at me, Levi."

My eyes drift open.

Hayden reaches down to fist his cock.

"Come, sweetheart," he whispers.

His endearment ends me.

Forehead to forehead, lips sealed to his and my eyes locked with his, I come.

My mania abandons me. The darkness of my depression rises up to swallow me.

And I know that this is the beginning of the end.