He watches as I move towards him, halting just out of his reach. And then he fixes his attention on my throat, avoiding all eye contact.
‘I don’t want you keeping things from me,’ I go on. ‘It doesn’t protect me and it doesn’t stop me worrying. It only makes things worse.’
‘I know that.’
‘So, why didn’t you say anything?’
‘I thought I could manage it.’ He pauses, still staring at my throat. ‘I was scared … still am.’
‘Of what?’
He clamps his lips together, refusing to answer, but he’s already gone too far. There’s only one thing that scares him and I know exactly what it is.
‘You thought you’d lose me. You thought I’d give up on you.’
His eyes meet mine. He seems shattered now, almost despondent.
‘You’ve already dealt with enough of my shit.’
‘True,’ I answer briskly. ‘And just for the record, I’m thoroughly prepared for more. How bad is the pain?’
‘Bearable. Mostly.’ He runs a hand through his hair.
‘The truth, Dan.’
I move closer and touch him on the arm.
‘Okay.’ His eyelids flicker. ‘It’s worse in the mornings. There are days when I can barely get out of bed.’
‘Like today?’
He nods.
‘Days when I want to shut myself away, and I’m not exactly a pleasure to be around.’
He lowers his head again, as if he’s totally ashamed of his confession. I stop him in his tracks. Placing a finger under his chin, I coax his head back up and wait for his eyes to meet mine.
‘How often?’
He closes his eyes. ‘There’s no pattern.’ He blows out a breath. ‘But it’s not been this bad for a while.’
I make a decision.
‘It’s all the sex.’
Panic appears in his eyes.
‘No.’
‘We’ll have to cut down.’
‘Maya, I’m not doing that.’
‘And I’m not walking away.’
‘Well, you should.’ He falters, breathes deeply again. ‘It’s not fair on you. I’m not the man you fell in love with. I shouldn’t have asked you to marry me.’
I’m stunned. I can barely believe what I’m hearing. We’ve been engaged for half a day and he’s already trying to pull out? I’d give the man a damn good slap if he wasn’t in agony.
‘You bloody idiot,’ I growl.
And then I stop. Mouth open, I stare into his face. If I’m not much mistaken, he’s on the verge of tears … and I’m not having that. This is self-doubt, pure and simple, the very same thing I saw in the mirror a few minutes ago. And as far as I’m concerned, it can take a hike … because it’s outstayed its welcome.
‘You really are a piece of work, Dan. You made me an offer and I accepted. That’s called a contract and you’re not getting out of it. I didn’t fall in love with Mr Perfection or Mr I’m-always-in-control. I fell in love with you.’
He frowns a little. Clearly, I need to set a few things straight.
‘Okay, so you can be a little overbearing and bossy, and you’re always in a rush to get everything done, but I can deal with that.’ I wave a hand. ‘The truth is, underneath it all, you’re kind and thoughtful, funny and intelligent, caring, protective, loving, faithful …’
I stall.
‘Run out of adjectives?’
‘Yes, but I’m not finished yet, not by a long shot.’ I point at him, panicking slightly because although there’s plenty to say, it’s all jumbled up in my head. In the absence of any clarity, I opt for the first ridiculous things that come to mind. ‘You look after me and I like it. You’re a bloody good cook. You tidy up after me and never complain. You let me have the remote control when we’re watching telly. You buy me knickers and tampons …’
A smile hovers on his lips.
‘You fell in love with me because I bought you tampons?’
‘Of course not.’
Oh dear, I really am making a prime mess of this. I need to home in on something a little more substantial.
‘You understand me and believe in me. You want me to be happy. You want me to be myself. You love me because I’m me, and that’s priceless. That’s the man I fell in love with, and he’s still in here.’
I prod the side of his head. The smile deepens. I’m almost there. Just a little stroke of his ego, and I’ll have him locked down.
‘And I’ll tell you something else. He might have a few scars and he might be struggling with pain right now, but he can still deliver the best orgasm known to womankind.’
He gives me a can’t-disagree-with-that kind of look.
‘And just in case he’s in any doubt, he’s still a bloody gorgeous sex god.’
Life flickers back to his eyes.
‘I couldn’t even think about another man after you. It’d be like swapping an Aston Martin for a Ford Fiesta.’
‘Ford Fiestas are very reliable.’
Well, at least he’s joking again.
‘Oh shut up.’ Standing between his legs, I take his face in my hands. ‘I’m not giving up on you, and that’s that. Capiche?’
‘Capiche,’ he whispers.
Thank God. Crisis averted for now. I motion him into my arms and hold him for an age, gently running a hand across his back. At first, the tension’s obvious. I can feel it in his taut muscles, the occasional shiver, the quick rise and fall of his chest. But gradually, the muscles relax, the shivers die away and his breathing returns to a regular rhythm.
‘I fucking love you,’ he mumbles at last.
‘And I fucking love you too.’ I pull back, smooth his hair and almost lose myself in those eyes. ‘Is there nothing you can do about the pain?’
‘The pills help … eventually. And physio.’ He thinks for a moment before he reveals the facts.
