Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 234

I’m back at the farm. Xander had told me to take the day off, said I looked like I was running on fumes. He was probably right. I can feel it now, the dizziness pressing behind my eyes, that dull, pulsing headache that’s been following me around. But I can’t stop, especially not after that session. I need something to do, something I can touch.

I pull my phone from my pocket as I cross the path and call Xander. He picks up almost immediately, voice soft and familiar. “Hey, boyfriend.”

I find myself smiling, just a little. “Hey.”

“You okay?” he asks, and I can hear that thin layer of worry he’s trying to disguise with calm.

“Yeah,” I say, even though I’m not. “Just checking in.”

There’s a quiet laugh on the other end, a breath more than a sound. “I miss you too.”

I can picture him, and it hits me how much I need this....his voice, his existence somewhere in the world. Proof that he’s okay and still here. Probably something I should bring up in fucking therapy too, but I’m nowhere near ready to hand that over.

I clear my throat. “It went well, all things considered.”

He pauses, hopeful. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I say, forcing the word through a throat that doesn’t quite want to open. “Told her about the sleep thing. We’ll, uh.... tackle it, or whatever.”

“That’s good,” he says, relief clear in his tone. “You did good today.”

I don’t answer. “I’m at the farm,” I finally say. “Should probably get to work.”

“Okay,” he says softly. “Just take it easy, alright? Don’t strain yourself.”

“Yeah, I will.”

He’s about to say it, I can feel it. So I beat him to it. “I love you.” There’s silence, then a quiet chuckle. “I love you too.”

“I’ll see you later,” I tell him, then hang up. I slip the phone back into my pocket and start walking.

That’s when I spot Albert, crouched beside that old truck he’s been obsessing over. It’s rusted to hell, paint peeling like old bark, but he’s grinning at it like it’s some kind of miracle. Janice once told me she doesn’t understand why he won’t just give up on it.

He hears my footsteps and turns, wiping his hands on a rag, grease smeared across his forearms. He laughs, motioning me over with the rag. “C’mere, boy. Think I finally figured out what’s been wrong with this old girl.” He pats the hood like it’s alive. “Go on, start her up for me, will you?”

I nod and step forward, my hands find the door handle. It creaks when I pull it open. I slide in and twist the key. For a second, nothing happens. Then the engine sputters, coughs, and roars to life like it’s waking from a long sleep. Albert cheers, fists raised to the sky.

I cut the engine and step out, he’s still standing there with that huge grin, looking about ready to burst. He claps his hands together and laughs.

“Would you listen to that?” he says, practically glowing. “She’s alive! Wait till I tell Janice.”

I glance at the truck, the dented hood and stubborn bolts, then back at him. “You must really like the thing,” I say. “Janice mentioned you’ve been working on it for a while.”

He lets out a breath that’s half a laugh, half disbelief. “A while? Try years.” He wipes his hands on the rag again, shakes his head. “When I first got her, she was nothing but a skeleton....frame bent, engine shot, everything rusted through. I had to hunt for every part, piece by piece. Thought she’d never run again. But finally....” He trails off, eyes gleaming with something triumphant. “Finally, she’s got a heartbeat again.”

He looks at me then, still riding the high of it, and says, “Anyway, I was actually gonna call you this morning, tell you not to come in too early. You’ve basically done everything that needs doing around here already.”

I nod toward the field. “Not really. There’s still a lot left. I was gonna start on the last stretch today.” I pause, scanning the far side of the property. He chuckles, shaking his head. “That can wait. I rented a bigger tractor from one of my buddies. Should be here later today, save us both a few backaches.” He tosses the rag onto a nearby crate and adds, “In the meantime, we’ve got some deliveries to make. Nothing major, but one of my old pals in the city’s throwing some big grand shindig....real fancy thing. Asked me to take over a few last-minute orders. I checked this morning, and we’ve just about got enough to fill it.”

He glances toward the storage shed, already in work mode again. “So, we better get harvesting and packing. We’ll load it all up and take it to his restaurant later today.”

“Alright,” I say, rolling my shoulders, already turning toward the rows of green. “Let’s get to it.”

We spend most of the day out in the fields, the sun is brutal. Janice is over at the jewelry shop today...otherwise, I know she’d be out here with us, insisting she’s stronger than she looks.

By the time we’re almost done, my head’s pounding again. It’s been building slow, like pressure behind my eyes, and every movement feels a little less steady than the last. Albert notices. He’s been on my case for the past hour, told me to take a break at least three times, each time with more concern in his tone. I brushed him off every time, but this time, he’s serious.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he says, straightening and squinting at me like he’s trying to figure out if I’ll drop right there. “You look pale as a ghost. Come on. We’ll head up to the house....you can sit, get something in you.”

“I’m fine,” I tell him automatically, but even to my ears, it sounds weak.

He shakes his head. “Nope. You’re done. I don’t need another broken-down fool on my hands today.”

I don’t argue, mostly because I can’t. My legs feel like they’re carrying someone else’s weight. We walk back to the house, he's still throwing glances at me every few seconds, muttering things like, *you sure you're okay? You look awfully pale....*and I keep saying *yeah, I'm fine,* even though I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince anymore.

Inside, the air’s cooler.

I go straight to the washroom and splash cold water over my face. It wakes me up a little. I grip the sides of the sink and stare at myself in the mirror....the dark circles, the drawn skin, the way my eyes don’t look quite like mine anymore.