Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
I managed a nod, counting on the attitude my spirit usually rallied at this point, assuring me that my solitude was better for everyone, including myself.
Tonight, it let me down.
Still, it didn’t matter how much I craved her. The rush of closeness with that beautiful freckle-faced girl could never be translated into something more. She was too young, with too much of a road ahead of her. Far too precious a little beauty living her life to ever consider tying it up alongside mine.
Mum didn’t carry on with her usual chatter that usually followed. She didn’t tell me that Amy was a lovely woman who was arriving to see her tomorrow, or give me that usual wink and a nudge. Instead, she tugged her hand from mine and took hold of my elbow, pulling me closer until my head was on her shoulder. She held me, tight, and I let myself breathe as that little boy in his mother’s arms for the first time since I was that little boy in his mother’s arms.
Mum was so strong, even though she was so frail. So alive, even though her lungs were fighting for every rasp of air.
“It should be me holding you,” I said to her, and she laughed.
“You’re plenty strong enough for everyone else in the world, you can at least let me be your mother and give you a proper damn hug.”
She gave me a squeeze before she let me go.
I loved her smile. I loved the sparkle in her eyes, and that tickle of her fingers as she touched my cheek.
“Now let’s get on with that crossword,” she said. “Five clues left to go.”
I was smiling right back at her as I reached for the newspaper.
“Time to get cracking then.”
I wrapped her up snug and fixed her nighttime oxygen before I left her and sat in my armchair downstairs when I was done. But I couldn’t read. There was nothing on the bookshelves that reached out to me. My heart was somewhere else.
I wondered where she was tonight, that sweet girl. I wondered if her tears had dried and she was sitting somewhere with a novel on her lap, that tatty pink bookmark gripped in the front cover.
I wondered if she was thinking of me, the way I was thinking of her.
Her body had fit against mine so perfectly. Heart racing and crying out for the steadiness of mine.
Her cries had been so raw and so true. Her eyes filled with such genuine hurt for others’ pain.
She had so much of that hurt coming, so many days ahead on the ward. The last thing I should do was add more.
So, I did what I usually did and forced myself back under the steel. I made the resolution to hold back from my own needs and treat her as I should treat her – as a dedicated member of my team, needing professional support in a demanding profession.
I spent the weekend with Mum, and with Amy, the girl she was so keen to have as her daughter-in-law, trying not to think about the beautiful Chloe Sutton. I enjoyed Amy’s laughter through the house as she joked along with my mother, and a selfish part of me wished I could tick that final box on the list.
Amy was a lovely woman, and had always been a great young friend for my mother. She was a pretty thing, with glossy dark hair and bright blue eyes. Tall and toned and a thumbs-up from Mum at every opportunity. Funny, and sassy, and smart.
But I’d never felt any attraction to her.
Even though she’d look at me with the gaze of someone who’d close the gap in a heartbeat, I’d never felt the pull to feel her body next to mine.
And even if I had… even in that moment of weakness for that slam of flesh on flesh and skin against skin…
No.
I couldn’t do it.
I’d never be able to fulfil the daughter-in-law request. Mum could plead all she liked, but she would never get that particular tick on the wall.
Still, I could do the others on Mum’s list.
I knew the list by heart.
Climb a mountain.
Ride the back of a motorcycle around a sharp corner.
Put my toes in the sea.
Amy called into the living room to speak with me before she left. She sat herself down in the chair opposite and for the first time ever since knowing her, I saw the way her fingers twisted in her lap.
I couldn’t focus on anything else.
“How do you think she’s doing?” she asked me. “She seems happy, but…”
Her voice trailed away, and I didn’t have to speak. She already knew the answer.
I saw the tears prick in her eyes.
“Hopefully she’ll be with us for a little while longer,” I said, to ease the blow, but it didn’t disguise anything. Mum’s end wasn’t all that far away.