Chapter 122

And the walls come tumblin' down

Patrick staggered backwards from the bathroom, pulling the door shut as he did so. With the hallway swirling around him, he groped along the wall trying to stay upright. His entire body trembled and shook as he pulled his jeans back on and reached for a t-shirt. Taking one shuddering breath after another, he stumbled out into the living room and sank onto a stool. He closed his eyes to try and steady himself but all he could see were the splotches strewn haphazardly across her beautiful golden skin. His stomach turned over on itself as he realized he finally had confirmation that something was terribly wrong.

Like a rushing wave threatening to run him over, he suddenly heard Robin's voice in his head:

My protocol failed in 2002. My t-cells had started to plummet and I had a cough that I could not shake. My doctor at the time was much calmer than I was - he told me not to worry, that another combination of drugs - one that would put this virus back to sleep - was out there. I did not share his confidence" she said hoarsely, "because while there are few certainties in this disease, a failing immune system is one.

It took two tries - and nearly a month before he had found the right combination. Meantime my body fought the new drugs with everything they had. The first two weeks of the new protocol were particularly brutal - so much so that I took personal leave from work. I left a pillow and blanket in my bathroom as I seemed to spend as much time there as anywhere else in my apartment. Once the extreme nausea and paralyzing headaches stopped, I got the second gift of the new protocol - large purple spots all over my body. I was the only woman in the middle of a Parisian heatwave wearing a turtleneck. The fashionistas were outraged.

The Nurses Ball. Large purple spots. He suddenly saw her, standing at the podium in a dark raspberry coloured strapless dress, her claddagh necklace shining brightly. As he tried to process the memories slamming into his brain, he reached for her purse. Flicking open the clasp he rooted around inside until he curled his fingers around the pill bottles. As he pulled them from her purse, he closed his eyes and whispered. "Please no. Please no."

Opening his eyes he looked down at the prescriptions and felt the bile burn as it rose in his throat. Her protocol had been changed. Her protocol had failed. If her protocol failed, her viral load was climbing and that meant.....Unable to finish the though he was suddenly gasping for air as the pill bottles tumbled from his hand onto the counter.

How was it that she had not told him? Had he missed the signs? He slammed his eyes shut and tried to call upon other memories. Was there something else in the past that would make her think she could not trust him with this? That after being by his side through all of his health issues, she could not tell him hers? But the memories continued to exist just outside his reach and the harder he tried to pull them up, the further away they got from him. He slammed his hand down on the counter in frustration.

Picking up one of the bottles he looked down at the prescription date and felt his blood run cold. The new prescription was just over a week old which meant....he looked down at the hallway and then back at the bottle. There was simply no way she was working double shifts at the hospital. Not while starting this new regimine. He was familiar with the medication and its side effects - he was familiar with all the anti-retroviral treatments available on the market. When Robin had fallen sick during an encephalitis outbreak almost two years earlier and had come very close to succumbing to it, he had researched her current protocol and possible alternatives. As they had grown closer and his feelings for her deepened, he continued to read up on them knowing full well that this day would come; he had not expected it to come so soon.

Nor had he expected her to lie to him about it when it did come. If she was not working at the hospital, as she had claimed she was doing, where had she been? And who had she been with? Who was comforting her? Reassuring her? Who was she turning to, if not to him?

Sliding off the stool he began to pace.

xxxxx
Robin slid down to the tub and pulling her legs to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and rocked gently back and forth as the water rained down over her; her tears mingled with the water. The one thing she had not wanted to happen had happened and now she was at a loss as to what to do next. Most of the time her disease existed in discussion rather than in tangibility. Outside of the precautions she took and her medication there were not a lot of reminders of HIV, let alone glimpses of what waited on the other side of the virus when all medication failed as it eventually would. But clusters of discolouration were an alarm bell to anyone who looked at her.

The look of horror on Patrick's face would be permanently etched in her mind. He would never be able to look at her the same way again and that was as heartbreaking as anything she had ever experienced. She knew she could not hide in the shower, that she owed him an explanation, but she did not know what she was going to say. All of her reasons for the choices she made seemed valid but now confronted with having to say them out loud, she began to doubt their validity.

Reaching up, she turned off the water and slowly, shakily, rose to her feet. She pulled the towel from the rack at the back of the shower and towelled herself off before wrapping her robe around her. She padded quickly to the bedroom and pulled on her yoga pants and the softest sweater she owned. Knowing there was harshness to come, it was somewhat comforting to have softness against her skin. Dragging a wide tooth comb through her hair and tugging out the knots, she pulled her damp hair into a low ponytail at the base of her neck.

Inhaling sharply she ran her hand over her face and made her way to the living room.

xxxx
Wearing a path in to the hardwood floor as he paced, Patrick's head snapped up as he heard Robin step in to the room. Her jaw was set in determination as though she was girding herself for what was to come. He followed her gaze as her eyes found her pill bottles stood up side by side on the counter and her purse hanging open, its contents spilling out.

"You...you went through my purse?" she asked incredulously. It was a silly thing to be upset about but already feeling so vulnerable and exposed it only heightened her emotions.

"Y-y-you lied," he replied simply, his brown eyes blazing furiously. "I asked...you...wh-what was wrong. You said noth-th-thing."

"I wasn't ready to tell you."

Patrick violently shook his head. "You LIED!" he shouted. "To me!"

Robin folded her arms across her chest. "It's my health and my choices and it's not a lie not to tell you." She moved to the counter and angrily snapped up her medication shoving it back in her purse and closing her purse shut.

He scoffed as he rolled his eyes. His blood was thumping angrily through his veins and as his mind raced with a hundred things he wanted to say at once, he found his mouth would not cooperate. Snatching up his board he scribbled furiously.

You weren't at work. You lied about double shifts. Where were you?

"I'm adjusting to the medication and my viral load seems to be stabilizing - thanks for asking" she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You j-just said your health n-n-not my business," he spat.

"Just like yours wasn't any of mine. You kept your tumour a secret from me for MONTHS! MONTHS! All I wanted was a little time to get used to this and suddenly I'm the bad guy here?"

Patrick's eyes widened in shock. He had no idea that he had kept it a secret though hearing it now, he knew she was telling the truth. "P-p-payback?"

"No!" she shouted angrily. "I just needed some time."

"You st-t-till lied to me!" He was having great difficulty getting past the idea that after everything they had shared she could not or would not trust him.

"Fine, yes I lied! Do you feel better now? Because clearly this is all about you and your reaction and your feelings."

Patrick shook his head and reached for his marker again. This is about US! When a lie infects a relationship, the relationship cannot be the same again. You must think I am really stupid - I knew something was off and I gave you every opportunity to come clean but you just kept lying. To lie is to hold the other person in such contempt that you don't feel they are worthy of the truth.

"Don't you dare" she hissed, "don't you dare get self-righteous with me about the truth. I wouldn't even be in this situation if it wasn't for you!"

"Wh-what?" Shocked, he felt his knees tremble and unable to stay upright any longer, he sank on the arm of the couch and stared at her in disbelief. You don't trust me, do you? His writing was shaky and getting harder to read.

"Do you blame me? After everything you did you expect me to trust you with this and count on you?" Hot, angry tears streamed down her face.

"What I do?!" he yelled. "WHAT I DO?"

"You LEFT! You FUCKING LEFT ME!" she hurled. "LIKE A FUCKING COWARD, you LEFT!"

All the air rushed from Patrick's body and sharp white spots appeared in front of his eyes. Short painful images began to flash in his mind: holding on to Robin for dear life, throwing his clothes in a suitcase, walking away from her. He looked over at the door and suddenly, as though watching a movie, saw himself walking through the door, suitcase in hand with the sound of Robin's sobbing echoing in his ears.

"No" he whispered, wishing it wasn't true but knowing, as a cold sweat trickled down his back, it was.

"Yes" she insisted angrily. "You were ready to give up and die and you left. I wasn't enough to keep you here and to keep you fighting. Just like everyone else in my life you left - left me all alone after pro-promising to love me" she sobbed, gasping for breath. All the pain and the fear of the last few months came tumbling out like a wound that had been lanced.

He was sure he was going to vomit. Shining lights in dark corners often revealed things you did not want to know. Swallowing thickly, he rose unsteadily to his feet and walked towards her. He needed to touch her - for himself but also for her. "R-r-robin" he whispered tearfully.

She continued to gulp for air and moved out of his reach, batting his hand away. "Don't you touch me," she cried. "I...I can't trust you. I love you but I can't trust you. And I can't be here right now." Her stomach pitched and rolled and she knew she had only a few minutes before she would be driven to her knees with painful stomach cramps.

"I-I sorry" he told her, urgently reaching for her again. "I l-l-love you."

"I can't be here" she repeated.

Grabbing hold of her purse, she sprinted for the door. Patrick ran after her as best he could but in his current state was no match for his girlfriend who was trying to outrun the past and the present all at once. Standing at the entrance of the apartment building, he watched in sickening disbelief as her car pulled from the lot and disappeared from sight. As though encased in cement, he walked back to the apartment in a slow daze. Kicking the door shut behind him, he slid down to the floor and held his head in his hands.

Could he really have cheated death and disability only to lose the one thing that mattered most to him?