He stood abruptly and crossed to the window, then turned back. Movement always betrayed him more than words. “I know I agreed to something disgusting because I thought everything in the world was a competition and I was bored enough to need a new one. I know I met you thinking it would be simple and that from the first ten minutes, it wasn’t. I know that for the last three months you’ve been living in my home while I pretended not to notice that something was wrong because I was waiting for you to tell me on your terms.” He stopped, breathing hard once through his nose. “And I know that tonight I watched you hit the floor and I have never been that afraid in my life.”
Maya looked at him in the sterile light and felt tears threaten. She hated crying in front of men who had power over her, hated it with a precision sharpened over years. Still, her eyes burned.
“They said it’s manageable,” she said. “That’s the word everyone likes. Manageable. As if it’s a spreadsheet.”
Taylor came back to the chair and sat again, slower this time. “Tell me.”
She laughed once, bitter and exhausted. “Why? So you can save me?”
His mouth tightened. “Why does every question from me sound like an insult to you?”
“Because men like you only get curious when something becomes expensive.”
He absorbed that without flinching, which somehow made it worse.
Maya let her head sink back into the pillow. “Eight months ago I got diagnosed. Severe hypertension. Early heart disease. Too much strain for too long. Too much weight. Too much stress. Too much pretending I was fine. They put me on medication. They told me if I changed everything, I could stabilize it, maybe reverse part of it. If I didn’t…” She stopped.
Taylor’s hand opened slightly on his thigh. “If you didn’t?”
She looked at the ceiling. “Then maybe five years. Maybe less. Depends who you ask. Depends how honest the doctor feels that day.”
He said nothing.
“You want the ugly truth?” she asked, turning her head toward him. “I tried in the beginning. I really did. I bought groceries that looked like healthy people’s groceries. I counted steps. I downloaded apps. I watched women on the internet say your body is a temple while I stood in a pharmacy line feeling like mine was a foreclosure. I’d do well for a week and then spend three days so tired I couldn’t think straight. I’d get scared, then angry, then ashamed, and those three things are a terrible diet plan.”
Taylor stared at her as if he could not bear to miss a word.
