Текст книги "King of Hearts"

Автор книги: L. H. Cosway

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Nineteen

I couldn’t go back to the circus the next day. Mostly because I had to work, but also because I was upset and angry at myself for letting things get so out of hand the night before. I needed to have more control, needed to understand that King wasn’t going to be completely logical when he was having withdrawals, and there was no sense arguing with an illogical person. It was just so hard not to get emotional. I was upset by how much he devalued himself just because he wasn’t the same man he was before. I’d never judged people by their status in life or what job they had. I judged people by who they were as people.

Anyhow, I was thankful to have work to focus on to take my mind off things. Elaine had arrived at the house bright and early to watch Oliver, and I’d stood in the doorway, bag over my shoulder, car keys clutched in my hand, as I listened to them chatter. Grandmother and grandson. The strength almost fled me in that moment. I wasn’t the only one King needed to be saved for, and it made me that much more determined to see him pull through this.

I’d concocted something of a plan, but it was going to take a bit of trickery. There were always lots of classical shows going on in London at any given time, but by some stroke of luck I’d managed to find a recital of Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 at the Royal Albert Hall. It was the same piece and the same location where he’d last seen his mother play. I thought the significance might bring him back to himself somehow. A step in the right direction. Anyway, the trickery would be needed in getting him there, because I knew if I suggested it outright he’d refuse to go, the same as he refused to see a doctor.

I’d purchased four tickets online, planning to ask Lille and Jack along, too. I could tell that Jack was closest to King; he seemed to have a calming effect on him. This meant that if my plan backfired and King freaked out, I’d have someone there who could calm him down.

Jay had told me that the circus was staying in London for the next three weeks, which gave me time to take things slow. I thought that was key, because forcing stuff to move too fast never worked. So, even though it killed me to do it, I decided to stay away from the circus for a day. I’d return on Tuesday evening after work, but this way I was giving King some space to get his head around everything. I was home from work and eating a bowl of spaghetti for dinner (Oliver’s favourite) when I got a text from Jay.

Jay: Where you at? King’s been asking.

The text made me want to hop up, throw on some shoes, and go to him immediately, but I had no sitter for Oliver, and it was too late to call Karla or Elaine. Therefore, it would have to wait until tomorrow.

Alexis: I can’t make it tonight, but I’ll visit tomorrow evening after work. About 6 or 7.

My attention was drawn away from my phone and across the table, as Oliver made a loud slurping noise sucking the spaghetti into his mouth.

“Today I asked Granny Elaine about the flowers,” he said randomly. I would have called my son the master of random statements, but I knew that was just all kids. They said whatever they were thinking.

“The flowers?” I asked.

“The ones in her garden. She told me they’re called tulips,” he said, sounding out the new word.

“Oh, you went for a walk to Granny Elaine’s house today?”

Oliver nodded, red spaghetti sauce all over his mouth. Elaine often took him out and about, especially when she was having a good day. If she was having a bad day, and feeling down about King, she usually stayed indoors. I took it as a sign that today had been a good day. I also took it as a sign that maybe I needed to tell her I’d found her son sometime soon.

 “Yep. They’re yellow with green….”

“Stalks?” I provided, smiling fondly.

“Yellow with green stalks. I asked her if the colours were the same to her as they were to me.”

What he said made me smile. I swear my boy was already a little philosopher, thinking about perception in his own particular way. God, and now I was thinking about how I needed to tell King he had a son. Why did all the explaining have to fall on my shoulders, huh? The emotion hit me quite suddenly, but I reminded myself that although it might be a stressful experience at first, I was excited for King to find out about Oliver, to get to know him. I was certain he’d fascinate him just as much as he fascinated me.

“And what did Granny Elaine say?”

“She said the colours were the same for most people, but some people have colour blindness. That means they don’t see the colours the same.” He paused, his brow crinkling in concentration as he looked at me. “I have blue eyes and Granny has blue eyes. Is that why we see the same? You have brown eyes, Mummy. Does that mean you see different?”

“No, Oliver, that’s not how it works.”

He frowned, confused that his logic wasn’t making sense, so I tried to explain it to him. “It doesn’t matter what colour our eyes are – it’s our brains that tell our eyes what colour we’re looking at. So our eyes have three message receivers in them. One for red light, one for blue light, and one for green light. We see colour through the light. These receivers see the light and send a message to our brains, and then our brains interpret the message to tell us what colour it is.” I tried to explain it to him simply, insofar as I could. “However, some people have a defect in one of their message receivers, which means they see the light wrong and send the wrong message to the brain. That makes them colour blind.”

Oliver seemed worried now. “I don’t want to have a defect in my receiver.”

His statement caused me to let out a soft laugh. “You don’t have a defect.”

He rose up by levelling his hands on the table, totally distressed. “But how do you know?!”

Oh, my God, I honestly couldn’t take how cute it was when he got stressed out about stuff, like it was a matter of life and death. “Well, actually, I don’t. We’d have to test you.”

I twisted some spaghetti around my fork, concentrating on my food again.

“What are you waiting for? I want you to test me now, Mummy.”

I gave him my stern look. “I will, but first you have to finish eating your dinner.” He wasn’t happy with my answer, but he settled back in his seat nonetheless and finished his food. I had to go look up a colour blindness test online and do it with him afterwards. When he got the result that he wasn’t colour blind, he literally jumped for joy, throwing his small arms around my neck and squeezing.

“Oh, Mummy, I’m so glad I’m not colour blind. I don’t want a dog.”

I laughed harder this time, realising what had caused him so much distress. He thought he’d have to get a Seeing Eye dog if he was colour blind. Seriously, sometimes he was too cute to handle.

“All those poor blind people. Not getting to see the colours,” he went on, his words striking a chord in me. King used to see the colours, but he didn’t anymore. The world was all in grey. I needed to teach him how to see them again.

“Yeah, baby,” I whispered. “All those poor people.”

***

The next day after I closed up the office, I drove straight to the circus. I lied and told Elaine I’d be home late because I had a business dinner. She accepted my explanation without question, which made me feel even worse for lying. It was a necessary evil, though. For now.

The same as the first night, I couldn’t find a decent parking space because lots of people were arriving for the show. I spotted Lille out front, a queue of kids lined up at her booth, waiting to have their faces painted. I was just about to go over and say hello when I saw King. He was over by the entrance, pacing frantically, his eyes searching the faces of those who passed him by. The second he spotted me, he was on the move, determinedly threading his way through the crowds.

“Hi,” I said awkwardly when he stopped a few feet away.

He ran a hand through his long hair. “You didn’t come yesterday,” he stated gruffly.

He sounded annoyed, and I don’t know, there was something about it that satisfied me. I liked that he’d noticed my absence. Maybe it would help him realise he still wanted things, and that there was stuff worth getting better for. Or, more to the point, that there were people worth getting better for.

“I had to work,” I answered.

He frowned hard. “Do you work all through the night?”

“No.”

“Well, then, why didn’t you come?”

I arched my eyebrow and restrained a laugh. Seriously, his entitled tone reminded me so much of our son right then it was too funny. I made sure to keep my expression neutral, though, not wanting to distress him further.

“Because I was exhausted, and I’m not sure about you, but some of us use the nighttime for a little thing called sleep.” Being sassy with him was a risk, because it could have sent him off the deep end. It was a relief when it didn’t, as he continued fingering his long hair and apologised.

“I’m sorry. I’m ten hours sober. It’s making me tetchy. And I thought you might have stayed away because of how I spoke to you the other night.”

I eyed him meaningfully. “We had a little fight, King. It was nothing, and certainly not enough to make me give up on you. But anyhow, I thought you weren’t supposed to be going cold turkey?”

He let out a gruff breath. “I’m testing the waters, seeing how long I can go. I feel like shit, but I can handle it.” His eyes came to rest on me, and their intensity made me a little breathless. “I’m glad you came. I need a distraction. And I’ve missed you.”

I inhaled sharply at the stark honesty of his statement, and felt my heart give a hard pang of yearning. He was tugging at his hair now, but I wasn’t sure he realised he was doing it. Stepping closer, I tentatively reached up and untangled his fingers from the long strands. It was a little dirty, and I wondered if he’d washed it since two nights ago when Jack helped him.

“You’re going to end up pulling it out from the root,” I said softly, and he let me lower his hand, watching me closely all the while. Feeling a strange need, I sank my hands into his hair and ran them right down to the ends. King didn’t stop me from doing it, only continued stoically watching, and it gave me courage.

“You know, I really like your hair like this.”

“You do?” he asked, perplexed.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “It’s gorgeous, but it’s in need of a wash. What kind of sink does Marina have in her camper?”

King shrugged. “I don’t know. Never really noticed.”

“Well, do you think she’d mind if we used her bathroom for a half-hour to wash your hair?”

He narrowed his gaze. “You want to wash my hair?”

“Yes, Oliver, I do. Now, do you think she’d mind?”

Shaking his head and exhaling heavily, he answered, “No, she won’t mind.”

“Good. Come on, then,” I said, and gestured for him to follow.

I led the way to the back of the circus where the mobile homes were stationed, feeling King’s curious gaze on me as he walked a foot or two behind. I was wearing jeans again, and my spidey senses went on alert. I could practically feel him checking out my arse. He always used to do it before, and the thought gave me a rush of excitement. Any small sign of the old him was cause for optimism. When we reached Marina’s camper, he shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out a key to unlock the door. I let him lead the way inside as he walked to the bathroom.

“It’s a bit small,” he said, looking around.

I brushed off his comment and began rolling up my sleeves, sensing his apprehension. He was radiating want and…whatever the opposite of want was, like he was dying for me to wash his hair but at the same time dying for me not to. I understood. He wasn’t used to people touching him these days, and if my gut feeling was right, he wasn’t used to washing, either. He’d been living like a hobo, but I planned to gently guide him back into the land of soap and water. It was of the utmost importance.

I saw him pull a small packet from his jeans as I went to grab one of the chairs from Marina’s kitchen table, and then he popped something in his mouth.

“What was that?” I asked, carrying the chair into the bathroom and setting it down in front of the sink.

“A mint. Jack said I should suck on them so that I have something to do with my mouth.”

His words were said without any sexual undertones whatsoever, but still, they got my mind wandering to places it had no business wandering. I remembered him going down on me, the heavenly skill of his lips and tongue. He’d been really, really good at that. Blinking, I shook myself back to the present.

“Oh, right,” I said, looking away and sticking the stopper in the sink before turning on the hot tap and letting it fill.

“He says it will keep me occupied, so that I don’t think about having a drink.”

“Huh. That’s actually a good idea. Is it working?”

He lifted his shoulders. “A little.”

“Come here,” I said, gesturing to the chair. “Sit.”

Warily, he stepped inside the tiny bathroom, and I realised he was right, it was small. It felt even smaller with the two of us inside and a warm, tingling heat began to creep its way to the surface of my skin. King sat down as instructed, then stared up at me, waiting for what I was going to do next. My black shirt had a sweetheart neckline; it was modest enough, but it showed a hint of cleavage, and I was distinctly aware of King’s eyes resting there. Then he glanced up, saw I’d caught him, and looked away.

“You’re allowed to look at me, you know,” I said, picking up a bottle of shampoo.

He continued to stare at his lap, a frown causing his brows to furrow. What he said next made my heart hurt. “I wasn’t sure if…you’d find it distasteful to have someone like me looking.”

“Hey,” I whispered fervently. He glanced up slowly. “I like it when you look.”

He swallowed and his eyes grew dark, wanting. I swallowed, too, and set the shampoo down on the edge of the sink for when I needed it. I turned off the tap, then brought my hands to his shoulders. “Just lean back a little,” I said quietly.

He did exactly as I asked, and my eyes fixed on the masculine line of his throat when he reclined. It was kind of sexy. I slipped a towel around his shoulders so as not to get his clothes wet. Then I filled a jug with warm water and lifted it above his head before pouring it over his hair. I repeated the process several times, King watching my every move like it was fascinating. Grabbing the shampoo, I poured some into my open palm, then sank my hands into his hair, massaging it in and creating a lather. King exhaled heavily as I dug my fingers into his scalp, massaging.

I saw his throat move, his blue eyes bright as he stared up at me. They dipped to my chest for a moment, and I let him look his fill. I wanted him to know I found nothing distasteful about his attention, that I wanted it, relished it. Leaning forward, I worked the lather through to the ends, which brought me closer to him, my breast brushing his cheek ever so slightly. He seemed to struggle for a moment, his hand clenching into a fist. I was struggling just as much, trying to concentrate on washing his hair rather than the fact that I wished he’d touch me. Run his hand up my thigh, maybe lean close and nuzzle his nose against my collarbone.

The room was way too silent, but I didn’t want this to end. Being close to him, touching him, felt intimate, and I wanted to make it last as long as possible.

“Do you remember the first time you caught me having lunch in your office bathroom?” I asked in an effort to make conversation.

He gave me a warm smile, and I swear the heat of it thawed my lonely bones. “How could I forget?”

“I was so embarrassed when it happened, convinced you were going to fire me, but you didn’t. You were so cool about it. You must have thought I was a complete nutter.”

King shook his head. “It was endearing. You were like a breath of fresh air. I loved how impulsive you were. It made me want to be around you.”

We locked eyes, and I knew I’d done all I could with the shampoo, so I began to rinse it out. I noticed a few lesions on his scalp, and a bit of redness, but they’d heal fine so long as he kept up a decent hygiene regime. It was his cough I was worried about.

“Have you given any more thought to seeing a doctor?” I asked gently, taking advantage of his momentary good mood.

“Would it make you happy if I did?” His eyes flickered back and forth between mine.

“Yes,” I answered.

Determination formed in his gaze, and I knew my not coming to see him yesterday had given him a fright, made him realise he didn’t want to lose me. “Then I’ll go.”

I opened my mouth, closed it. It was hard to find words for a second, and then I finally found the perfect ones. I hoped he heard my gratefulness. “Thank you.”

I continued rinsing his hair then, and felt his hand come to rest on my hip. He left it there, and neither one of us commented on it. Warmth suffused my skin, radiating out from where he touched me. Once I’d wrung out all the excess water, I pulled the towel from his shoulders and wrapped it around his wet hair until it sat in a bundle atop his head. We shared a moment of eye contact as I laced my fingers through his and pulled him up to stand.

Leading him out into the living area, I brought him to the couch and sat him down while I went to rummage in my bag for a hairbrush. Then I came and lowered myself to sit beside him. I pulled the towel from his hair, let it fall around his shoulders, and scrunched it dry before I started brushing out the tangles. King sat there all the while, still as a statue, and allowed me to groom him. The act was so simplistic in its intimacy. He was turned away from me, and I’d just about finished when he suddenly moved, his eyes meeting mine.

I startled when I saw his tears and gasped when he suddenly grabbed me, pulling me into a desperate embrace. The speed at which he moved was shocking, but the tenderness of his actions stopped my heart. He rested his head on my stomach, and I couldn’t find my voice. He was open to me in that moment, laid bare, and his vulnerability provoked tears of my own. His breathing was deep, the rise and fall of his chest heavy, as I brought my hands to his hair and started to stroke.

I felt his face move and realised he’d placed a kiss on my stomach over the fabric of my top. I swallowed deeply, unsure whether I should touch him back or allow him to take the lead. His hand came to the soft part of my belly and began to push up the hem of my top until it revealed skin. The old, faded lines of the stretch marks I’d gotten when I was pregnant with Oliver were a stark reminder of everything I still had to tell him. I couldn’t stop him, though, didn’t want to, and he didn’t seem to draw the connection between the little silver lines and the fact I might be a mother. He simply marvelled at my skin, like it was a thing of wonder.

He started to stroke me, almost reverently, and every pore on my body drew tight. His hand was warm and big and manly, and I loved the feel of his callused fingers on my soft skin. I lay back, completely still, and allowed him to find his own way, go as far as he was comfortable. But he didn’t try anything else, seemed content to simply run his hands over my bare stomach and concentrate on the movement of his fingers.

After a long time, his hands stopped and his eyes fell shut. I closed mine, too. I only realised we’d both fallen asleep when the buzzing of my phone startled me awake. King still slept, but I managed to reach inside my pocket to check my text without waking him.

It was a message from Elaine, asking when I’d be home. I had to go, but I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to go back to sleep, lie here with King for hours, and just feel the peace of being with him. Unfortunately, life had other ideas. His breathing was loud and steady, with a little bit of a rattle. It reminded me that he’d agreed to see the doctor, and my heart felt suddenly lighter.

As quiet as a mouse I slipped out from under him and left the camper, and almost walked straight into Jack as I was leaving.

“Oh, my God, you gave me a fright,” I whispered loudly, my hand going to my chest.

He seemed awkward. “Sorry. I get that a lot.”

“You’re one of those big men with silent feet, huh?” I went on.

Unexpectedly, Jack smiled. He was gorgeous when he smiled. Well, he was already gorgeous, but he frowned a lot. It made him seem closed off. The only time I’d really seen him smile was when he was with Lille or his brother.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he agreed.

I glanced back toward the camper. “King’s inside sleeping, but listen, he’s told me he’ll go see a doctor. I work during the day, so I won’t be able to take him. Do you think you could do it? Maybe make an appointment for tomorrow.”

He nodded. “Sure. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you. Oh, and there’s another thing. Do you know that he used to play the piano?”

Jack shook his head. “No, but I did know that his mother played.”

“That’s right. Well, King used to play, too. Music meant a lot to him, and I’ve bought tickets for a concert I want to take him to see. I think it’ll be good for him to hear a live orchestra again, therapeutic maybe, but I’m not sure I can handle taking him alone. So, do you think you and Lille could come along?”

Jack arched a brow. “Like a double date?”

He was teasing me now, and it made me grin. I didn’t realise Jack had it in him to tease. I placed a hand on my hip. “Yeah, like a double date.”

His lips twitched. “I think we can manage that. When’s the concert?”

“Next Saturday. Will you have a show?”

“Yes, but I can fix to have the night off.”

“Great. That’s great. Thank you so much. This means a lot.”

Jack’s eyes wandered to the camper. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you, Alexis. I’m sorry if I was rude before, but I’ve spent years watching that man suffer. It’d be nice to see his suffering come to an end.”

His words made me slightly emotional, so all I could do was nod and turn to walk away.

The following day at the office, I couldn’t help checking my phone every five minutes. I sent Lille a message, asking if she’d let me know how things went at the doctor’s with King. It was almost the end of the day, and I still hadn’t heard a peep. It caused me to worry. What made matters worse was when I called Elaine to tell her I’d be home late again, and she asked questions. She was starting to become suspicious, especially since I told her I’d be home by nine yesterday and didn’t get back until after midnight. I hated lying to her.

In the end, Lille met me when I arrived at the circus. I’d worried myself sick, thinking something might be terribly wrong with King. She sat me down in her and Jack’s camper to give me the details. It turned out that he did have quite a few ailments, but nothing that couldn’t be dealt with. He had acute bronchitis, which accounted for the coughing. He also had a few patches of eczema. They’d done some tests on his liver but wouldn’t get the results back for a couple of days. It was also looking likely that he had a stomach ulcer. The doctor had prescribed antibiotics for the bronchitis and the ulcer, some specialist creams for his skin and a drug called Disulfiram to help him stop drinking. As regards his liver, the fact that he was making an effort to quit was a big help.

Even though all this wasn’t exactly news that he was healthy, I was incredibly relieved to hear that he didn’t have anything incurable. I could see light at the end of the tunnel. When the door to the camper opened and Jack walked in with King following behind, I gasped. He’d shaved off his beard.

Standing, I walked over to him and instinctively brought my hand to his cheek.

“You shaved,” I whispered.

His eyes, dull and bloodshot only a couple of days ago, had regained some of their colour. They look clearer, bluer. “I thought it was high time.”

“I can see your face now,” I smiled, noticing the lines that weren’t there before. They gave him character. He also had a small scar on one of his cheeks. “How did this happen?”

“Honestly, love, I can’t remember,” he replied, and I shivered at his term of endearment. He always used to call me “love” when we had sex, and several goose bump–inducing memories swept through my mind all at once.

“Drink will do that to you,” said Jack, giving King a firm pat on the shoulder. “It’s the elixir of memory loss.”

King shot his friend something of a smile while Lille widened her eyes at her boyfriend. “Jack.”

“We need to be able to joke about it. Takes away its power,” Jack explained, and I thought he made a lot of sense.

I looked back to King. “Come for a walk with me?”

Without a word he moved to the side and gestured for me to lead the way. I said goodbye to Lille and Jack before exiting the camper. When we got outside, I gently slid my arm through King’s so that we were linking. He glanced down at me, his eyes lingering on our linked arms.

“Where did you go last night?” he asked tensely. I was still trying to get used to the sight of him without the beard. Plus, his question made me strangely shy as I remembered his hands on me, his tender, worshipful touches. I looked at my toes as we walked.

“I had to get home and didn’t want to wake you.”

“You could have stayed,” he said quietly, and I didn’t know how to respond.

A silence ensued as we made our way past the front of the tent. A couple of the circus workers went by, and I noticed some of them doing double takes when they saw King. He’d cleaned up a lot in the last few days. I reached up and playfully tugged at a strand of his hair.

“I hope you don’t plan on getting rid of this like you got rid of your beard,” I said.

His eyes practically twinkled. “You like my hair long?”

“I already told you I do.”

“Then maybe I’ll keep it.”

I shot him an amused scowl. “Only maybe?”

He laughed, low and deep, before shrugging. “If you like the hair, I’ll keep the hair.”

“Good,” I said, satisfied. We chatted as we continued our walk. I asked him how he was feeling, and he told me he was still in pain but not as much as the day before. We entered a busy shopping district, buses and cars clogging the roads since it was rush hour. The streets were crowded with people, all scurrying by on their way home from work.

“Are you hungry?” I asked as I felt my stomach rumble. I’d been in such a hurry to leave the office today that I’d completely forgotten about dinner.

King looked away uncomfortably. “I don’t have any money.”

I didn’t point out the fact that he did have money. He had a bank account full of it, not to mention a gigantic apartment that had been left unlived in for the last six years. He hadn’t considered any of that his for a really long time. Perhaps he thought all his property had been seized by the authorities. After all, he never knew that his name had been cleared. Still, I had no intention of pushing the matter right then. I just wanted to eat with him and enjoy his company. I’d always loved the lunches we shared together in his office, the conversation.

“My treat,” I said as I steered him in the direction of a small bistro.

He didn’t protest, but I got the sense that he wasn’t too thrilled about me paying. Neither one of us was dressed fancy. I wore a cream knit top, pale blue jeans, and ballet flats. King wore a work shirt and khaki combats. But the bistro was a casual affair, so it didn’t matter. A waitress led us to a small nook at the back and handed us each a menu. I scanned down the list.

“The roast chicken looks good,” I said, and was met with silence.

King was looking around the room, clearly uncomfortable. I didn’t have to ask to know it had been a long time since he’d eaten in a restaurant. The waitress came back to take our drinks order. King seemed overwhelmed, so I hooked my foot around his ankle under the table for a second as a show of solidarity. It seemed to comfort him a little, but the waitress was still waiting for his order and he wasn’t talking. In the end, I ordered two Cokes and told her she could put us down for two of the roast chicken dinners as well.

King seemed relieved after she left, glancing at me and muttering a quiet, “Thanks.”

“She was being pushy, if you ask me,” I joked to try to make him feel less uncomfortable. “So,” I continued casually, “Lille and Jack invited us to go out with them next Saturday night.”

His brows drew together. “Out where?”

“I’m not sure. Probably to dinner and a show or something. It could be fun,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. I didn’t want him to know how desperately I needed him to say yes.

“Do you want me to go?”

I nudged him with my foot. “Of course I do.”

“I’ll go then, if I’m feeling well enough.”

My heart soared. He’d said yes. We were going on a date. It was a little sad how deliriously happy that made me. “Lille told me you went to see a doctor today.”

King nodded and stared down at the menu, where his fingers fiddled with the edge of the paper. “I’m taking some medicines, and I haven’t had a drink since two days ago. I’m still not over the worst of it, but I don’t want to go back. It feels like it’s either win or lose at this stage.”

What he said surprised me, since I hadn’t even been certain he wanted to give up. “The other day you said you weren’t sure you wanted to quit, but you seemed determined now.”

His eyes flared meaningfully. “I’m trying.”

“All you can do is try,” I said, giving him a warm smile, remembering how he’d told me something similar years ago.

He smiled back, sending my hopeful little heart into overdrive. We sat side by side in our nook, the restaurant noises surrounding us. “Maybe in a week or so, do you think you’d like to see your mum?” I asked tentatively.

He cleared his throat, coughing a little. “Yes,” he nodded. “I just need some more time to…get better.”

“I can understand that,” I said, glancing up at him. I’m not sure why, but there was something in his eyes then that held mine captive.

He leaned the tiniest fraction closer, and whispered so that no one else could hear, “I dreamt of you last night.”