Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 132332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
‘I believe you.’ I wish now more than ever that I could throw my arms around his shoulders. ‘Release me,’ I order, pulling at the cuffs. He obeys my command, working quickly, and a few moments later, I’m wrapped around him tightly, squeezing my love and faith into him. I know he can do this. We’ll figure it out together.
‘I have a gift for you,’ he tells me, forcing me away from him. Leaving me hugely curious, he gets up from the bed and slowly walks naked across the room to the dresser. He pulls out a file and wanders back over, holding it up. ‘Though you’ve kind of ruined my surprise a little with your bombshell.’ He nods at my tummy.
I regard him carefully as he presents me with the file, and I take it tentatively. ‘What’s this?’
He sits on the edge of the bed. ‘You’ve been looking after me,’ he says, and I frown some more because I have no idea what relevance that has to this file. ‘You quit your job, and I wish I could say that I didn’t want you to do that, but I can’t. I wanted you here with me, and I wanted you to look after me.’ He shrugs. ‘It’s selfish, but I wouldn’t change it.’
‘Neither would I,’ I reply, still not getting what this is all about. ‘I wanted to look after you.’ The fact that he can’t bear anyone touching him, and I know how to handle his delicate condition, is beside the point. I would have done it regardless.
His lips quirk. ‘See? My very own Florence Nightingale.’
I laugh out loud. ‘I’m a nurse. Just a nurse.’
‘Be quiet and open the file.’
I eye him suspiciously, pouting as I follow his order. ‘What is it?’ I ask, pulling out the first sheet. I scan the paper. ‘An application form?’ I ask, confusion rampant in my tone. It’s complete, too, with all my details filling the spaces. Then I nearly choke when I notice the heading on the sheet. My eyes shoot to his. ‘Theo?’
‘It’s your application to study medicine.’
‘What?’
‘You’ve been accepted. The fees are paid, and all your papers are in there. You let go of your dream to be a doctor. I want you to have it back. It’s the one thing I can do for you. You don’t have to worry about financial support. I’ll support you. I want you to have your dream.’
‘My dream is you.’ My lip begins to tremble, and I drop the sheet, my quivering hands not helping. I can’t believe he’s done this.
He takes my hands and squeezes. ‘You already have me. I want you to have this, too. As well as me.’ He rests his hand on my tummy. ‘And this. As soon as you’re ready, I want you to pursue it. I want you to be a doctor. It’s just one more reason for me to be in awe of you. One more reason on top of the hundreds there are already to love you and be proud of you.’
I place my hand over his and press it against me, emotion racking my body. ‘And what about this?’ Becoming a doctor takes years of study, stress, and hard work. And be a mum?
His eyes drop to our hands. And he smiles. He smiles so widely and so brightly, I’m nearly knocked off the bed. ‘I never imagined myself as a stay-at-home dad.’
A happiness so rich spirals through me. ‘You’ll be a stay-at-home dad?’ I ask, imagining him now, my big, scary man . . . with a baby strapped to his colossal chest in one of those carrier things. The mental image delights me more than I can describe. It also turns me on.
‘Yes,’ he answers simply, nodding to himself in agreement.
My smile must be breaking records in the brightest category. Theo looks at me, sureness and determination plastered all over his handsome face. He reads my thoughts, opening his arms, and I dive into them. Hiding his pain with a laugh of pure elation, he holds me the tightest he ever has. He’s determined to fix himself. Not that I would dream of telling him, but I couldn’t care less if I was never able to touch him freely. If it was just me and him, I’d find a way to manage it. I’d find a way to accept it. Because I already touch him in a different way, and it’s far more meaningful than any physical touch. Our connection is earth-shattering even when I’m tied up and unable to reciprocate in that one small area of our relationship.
Because I touch his soul.
Every moment of the day, I touch him there. It’s deep. So deep. I have his love, which means everything and more. But it’s not going to be just us. There’s going to be a third person, so I will do whatever it takes to help Theo. Yet though my resolve is fierce, it isn’t a scratch on the purpose I can feel penetrating me from the force of his cuddle.