16. Lia

I wake slowly,confused. The sheets smell unfamiliar, woodsy, and I blink against the sunlight streaming between gaps in heavy, dark curtains. I hear rhythmic metallic clicking nearby and the events of yesterday come flooding back. I'm in Ethan's cabin because of a flare-up.

This condition can be demoralizing…I hate feeling unable to care for myself - the helplessness. And now I'm here with my first boyfriend because I'm too weak to navigate stairs. I'd love to lie here and wallow, but my mouth feels like cotton. I know I need to keep up with my hydration or this will just spiral. Fatigue has already sunk its claws into me, and I'm sluggish as I try to stand up.

Before I get very far, the clicking stops and footsteps approach along the wood plank floor. My chest seizes thinking about Ethan seeing me in his personal space … but then, he must have carried me in here … I fell asleep next to him on the couch.

"Oh good, you're up." His voice comes from the doorway, I turn to meet his gaze, relieved to see the familiar warmth there. No sign of annoyance at having his room co-opted. "How are you feeling today?"

I adjust my weight, my spine twinging a bit. The abdominal pain has dulled, but the pounding in my temples reminds me I need to drink my electrolytes. "Better, I think." I clutch at my throat and clear the scratchiness from my voice. "Still pretty tired."

Ethan nods. "You should take it easy today. I brought you the soup from Gran." He backs into the main room of the cabin, where I see a pot simmering on the stove. The smell is more than I can handle right now, though. I clutch my tummy and slip into the bathroom, feeling grateful that Ethan makes himself busy in the kitchen.

I take care of business and that's when I notice what I assume has been the cause of the sounds this morning. Ethan has installed a fancy bidet attachment to his toilet. Not one of the cheap ones that blast cold water, although that would have been welcome. But this … this is the deluxe Japanese model, with warm water and pressure settings. It has buttons to change the angle of the spray based on the anatomy of the user.

I coo in relief as I clean up. When I join Ethan in the kitchen, his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. The exhaustion in my bones recedes in the glow of his generosity and thoughtfulness. "Ethan," I rasp, emotion clogging my throat. "Did you build me a bidet?"

He blushes—blushes!—and rubs the back of his neck. "Oh, hey. I wanted to surprise you. I was checking my email like you suggested." He grins and I feel warm all the way down to my toes. "So, then I was looking around online about Crohn's and how nice it is to have a bidet." He shrugs. "I was going to just build something from extra parts, but I ran into Chen in town, and he was about to ship one of these back … would you believe he bought one for each floor of his house?"

I step closer, reaching for the soft flannel of Ethan's shirt. "I would believe that, yes. Why was he returning one?"

Ethan wraps an arm around me like we've been standing this way for years, like it's normal for us to clutch one another. I almost stretch up to kiss him on the cheek before I remember that I can't do that. He smiles. "Chen's husband said two tush washers is plenty. So, I slipped him some cash and saved him the shipping fee." Tears flood my eyes yet again as I think about the care behind Ethan's gesture. After all these years away, Ethan still wants to make my life better. He is so dedicated to learning what will help. And now I'm standing in my ex-boyfriend's kitchen crying over a butt washer.

"Is it okay? Did I get the right thing?" Worry creeps into his voice at my silence.

I nod and a sob escapes. "No one has ever …" I swallow around the giant lump of emotion in my throat. "You didn't have to do any of this, Ethan."

He shrugs like it's nothing, because to Ethan, kindness is nothing. He's always taken care of the people around him as best as he could. "I want you to be comfortable, Lia."

And I realize I am. More than I can remember being for a long time. My doctors have always focused on what I need to give up to manage my condition … Ethan thinks about what he can provide.

Overcome with gratitude and feeling seen, I wrap my arms around his waist and press my face into his chest. It feels strange to touch him again after so long, to be this close to him. To smell him. But my god, does it feel good. We stand entwined as my tears soak his shirt and I feel the strong safety as his arms encircle my body.

Eventually, we separate as he clears his throat. "I made you another cup of tea. You seemed to like that last night. And the soup is here keeping warm for you, whenever you're up to it."

I nod and he reaches for his hat. I'm sure he has work to do outside, work he kept waiting while he made me comfortable. "Ethan … what did you do? After I ended things, I mean …" Sometimes the ache and shame of cutting him off eats at me more fiercely than my immune system.

Sadness slides across Ethan's face and he clutches the edge of the counter. "Well, I came to look for you, like I said. And I couldn't find you. So, I built a house." He waves an arm around the room. I glance at the cabin with fresh perspective. "Grandad helped me build this place. You know, to take my mind off the sting."

My chest squeezes, faced with the consequences of my choices. "I was so consumed by my illness, Ethan. So mired in doctor's appointments and arguments with insurance. Anything outside of immediate survival was … out of the question." He swallows and I watch his throat work. "I thought you hated me," I whisper.

Ethan takes my hand, cradling it between both of his. "I've only ever loved you, Lia."

The admission hangs between us, heavy and serious. I'm not sure what to do in the presence of this man and his honesty and the magnitude of his emotions. I lean forward, thinking I might kiss him, knowing that's a mistake.

A bleat from outside interrupts the moment. Mrs. Bedd stomps past the cabin with Baabara on a leash, waving through the front window with a smile on her face.

Ethan pats my hand and heads outside to work. I watch him go and make a silent promise to stop running from him. We can take care of each other now if we let ourselves.