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As I stare up at the ceiling, I remember that I’m jobless and absolutely nuts over a man who should be totally unlovable. Except he’s not. Far from it. At least, for me. My head begins to ache, and my heart weighs down in my chest. Is it wrong to love Theo so deeply, to stay and fight for it when I fear it could ruin me? And worse still, ruin him. To push him over the line he so delicately balances on. He told me he felt I needed a warning that he’s fallen in love with me. He gave me that warning too late. I’m in now. And I fear there is no getting out.
My head drops to the side and my despondency multiplies at the sight of the empty space where Theo should be. Not content with seeing the vacant place in his bed where he should be, I reach across and feel his absence, stroking the cold sheets next to me as I turn on to my side. The notion that I might never get to wake up and lay beside him, just watching him in his slumber, brings tears of desolation to my eyes. It’s ironic that of all the things burdening me at the moment, the lack of his closeness is the worst.
I should have gone home last night. Then I would have one less thing to be miserable about this morning – namely, Theo not joining me in bed. He didn’t come to me, cuddle me, comfort me. It’s not very fair for me to be slighted, since I gave him every reason to believe that I held him accountable for Penny’s attack. And it’s not very fair that I blamed him in the first place. I could see his remorse, as plain as the nose on my face. He won’t rest until whoever’s responsible is dealt with. But that simply adds to my growing list of concerns. How far can he push his apparent immunity with the police before everything catches up with him and he’s thrown into prison? Taken away from me?
Sighing heavily, I slide out of bed and slip one of Theo’s shirts on, fastening the buttons as I make my way to the lounge in search of him. Something tells me not to hold out too much hope of finding him, that he’ll probably be going out of his way to avoid my spiteful tongue again. I glance at the clock on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. Nine a.m. My heart sinks. He either didn’t come back at all last night, or he’s left already.
I turn on my heels to go take a shower, trying to find the will I need to get on with my day. But I take no more than two paces, the couch across the room catching my eye. Or not so much the couch, but the sight of a long, seminaked body stretched the length of it. His arm is curled around the back of his head, his face turned into his bicep, and his other palm rests lightly on his stomach, rising and falling steadily with his calm breathing.
The black material of his boxer shorts is pulled taut across his thighs, and his face has a thousand lines of torment etched across it, even as he sleeps. Though he’s still unfathomably handsome. He’s a picture. Like the finest piece of art that has you staring in fascination, a million words of wonder tickling your lips. Or like something so gorgeous that you feel compelled to share with others, because everyone should experience the sight of it at least once. Once is enough to leave a lasting image imprinted on anyone’s mind. But I won’t share. I’ll keep this vision to myself. Selfishly, I want Theo Kane to be my own personal exhibit.
And on top of his visual appeal, I want him as my own personal refuge. I could never walk away from him, not only because I need that refuge, have come to crave it. But because I love him with every fibre of my lost being. And he loves me. Without love, we are nothing. Without him, I feel like nothing. I’m just a woman content with hiding in the shadows of life. Or in the shadows of a place that she’s told herself was safe. I allowed my inner demons to dictate where I went and what I did. And it’s only since I met Theo that I’ve successfully fought their hold. I need to make peace with him. It hurts too much just knowing that the world shaking around us is beginning to penetrate our serenity. I can’t allow it.
I take the few paces over to the sofa where he’s lying and drop to my knees, fighting my desire to touch him. In time, I tell myself. He’s worth enduring the wait for that ultimate prize.
