CHAPTER 54

The conditions under which I meet Levi's family are less than desirable.

Levi's mother gives me several nervous glances, but she never approaches. She is currently in a full-scale panic attack, muttering and crying about how Levi could do this to them again.

"I told you we should have gone to see him, Hank. I told you," she cries several times. I find her discomforting and so I keep my distance.

Levi's dad pats her on the back telling her that Levi is a strong boy and he'll pull through. Then offers for me to go for a walk outside with him to ‘clear our heads'. I decline.

David, who introduces himself as Levi's older brother, stands next to me, away from the others, thanking me for getting to Levi on time.

"I was in town for a meeting," he says. Then, when the awkward silence persists, he adds, "He seemed troubled at Christmas. I thought he was okay now. Was he manic?"

"He's been in a mixed episode since Christmas. You're his family. Why don't you know these things?" I snap. I am completely unhinged.

"We usually leave Levi alone when he's in one of his moods. He prefers it that way."

And now I'm just appalled. It isn't that David has said it with any kind of malice. It's that he says it with an incredible amount of kind ignorance. Shouldn't families understand mental disorders more than this? "One of his moods?" My voice drips with judgment. "Is that why you think he's fucking dying in there right now? Because he was in a fucking bad mood?"

David's eyes widen with offense, but he doesn't say anything. I'm not even a little bit sorry.

The conversation is halted by the appearance of Levi's doctor. His family rushes forward. I'm forced to hang back when all I want to do is shake the information out of the doctor.

Hank gestures for me to join them, and I rush forward with dread in my heart.

"He's going to be okay," the doctor says.

I hear nothing else. My relief is untold. Levi is not dead.

Levi's mother asks to see him.

The doctor tells us that Levi is still being monitored closely, and they'll allow visitors after twenty-four hours. He tells us to go home and get some sleep, assuring us that Levi is in good hands.

I don't have the strength for good manners, so I walk out of the hospital without saying goodbye to Levi's family. I leave Levi's phone at the front desk on my way out. They promise to let him have it as soon as they're allowed to.

I order an Uber and am waiting outside for it when Levi's mother rushes to me.

"Oh, I thought you'd left," she says.

I say nothing. I've decided I don't like these people.

She rings her hands together. "How – how do you know Levi?" she asks.

"We met at the gallery where he works." Two minutes for the Uber.

"Are you just friends or . . ."

I'm not sure how much Levi allows his family to know about him, but right this minute, I want to claim him as my own as publicly as possible.

"I'm his partner," I say.

She nods. Wraps her arms around her torso. "He didn't say anything . . . Anyway, I want to thank you for – for finding him. He – he's done this before, you know. Twice. I found him those times."

"He's going to be okay," I say, because I don't know what else to say. Levi hadn't mentioned his previous attempts, but it doesn't matter now.

Mrs. Anderson studies my face in the dark. "How do you . . . how do you cope with him?" she asks.

"Cope?" I'm truly appalled.

"He's not . . . easy to live with."

"I try to understand him," I tell her, battling to keep the sting out of my tone. One minute for the Uber.

"You don't get tired of the mood swings?"

I've had enough of this family. "Mrs. Anderson, Levi has Bipolar Disorder. It's wrong and cruel to force him into a neurotypical box. I care about him just as he is, and I try to understand him. That's all there is to it."

"Neurotypical? What does—"

My Uber pulls up. "I'm sorry. I have to go."

Back at Levi's apartment, I stop to properly park and lock my car. Inside, I take my first look around. Other than vomit on the floor in the hallway, everything is clean and neat. A roasted chicken lies covered on the counter. My peace lily sits near the window, growing healthily. When did this plant come to mean something to Levi that he would be so offended by my treatment of it? Why did he feel such a great need to take care of this plant?

Slipping my hand into my pants pocket, I retrieve the note that must have triggered Levi so catastrophically and face my own separate hell. My stomach churns, bile rising and burning through my chest, before settling in my throat like an out-of-control fire.

Two sets of emotions tear through my body. My feelings for Levi, and how this must have destroyed him – not just the note itself, which professed my undying love for Nicholas, but the humiliation he must have felt when he realized what he had done with Nicholas"s suit.

Both are devastating and unbearable.

I don't know where to go. Where can I go to hide from these feelings? Why didn't I ask for the suit back? I knew the note was there.

I clean up the vomit, then wash my hands and face. In Levi's bedroom, I sink into the bed where he had lain, ready to die. Pulling Nicholas's suit close, I slip the note back into the jacket pocket, and then, I clutch it to me the same way Levi had.

Nicholas is gone, but Levi is not. Levi is still here. And I have to be brave. Levi has to be brave. We have to make it. I don't know how, but we have to make it.