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He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to. By breaking the DVD he’s showing me that I was right, that keeping it would come back to haunt him at some stage. Still, doubts remain in my mind. He tucks me in, kisses me on the forehead, and leaves. I pick up my phone and dial my home number.

“Helloooo,” my sister Alison answers, sounding cheerful as ever.

“Hey, Ally, it’s Lana. Is Gran around?”

“Yep. She’s out in the garden. You want me to call her in?”

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

“’Kay, be right back.” She hesitates. “You don’t sound so good, sis. Is everything all right with you?”

I’ve already made my mind up that I’m not going to tell my family about the coma. It would only cause a big drama, and I have every intention of ensuring that it doesn’t happen again.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Now go get Gran.”

A minute or two later Gran’s voice comes on the line, the familiar cadence soothing me like nothing else ever could.

“Lana, honey, it’s so good to hear from you,” she says, sounding rested and full of health, despite being the ripe old age of seventy-two.

We make small talk, and then gradually I tell her about my time with Robert this summer and how we fell in love, how we were probably already in love with one another before any of this even began. She listens quietly, letting me get it all out.

The only parts I don’t talk about are the sex and the coma, deciding the sex is definitely too explicit for my grandmother’s old-fashioned ears and the coma could quite ironically send her into one.

“Well, there’s no doubting the two of you love each other,” says Gran, once I’ve finished talking.

“Yeah, but is it worth keeping a love that’s killing you in the process?” I ask.

“Honey, you’re being a tad melodramatic,” Gran chides me.

It’s so hard to get her to understand when I can’t tell her everything. “I’m not, Gran, believe me. When I’m with him it’s hard to breathe, let alone take care of my health.”

“Why don’t you explain it to him, then, let him know that if he doesn’t want you to become sick he needs to be just as involved in caring for you as you are yourself?”

Well, there is that, and I have no doubt that Robert would go out of his way to help me as best he could. The only issue is that it’s in his personality to be wild and unpredictable, and when I’m with him I’m inevitably going to be swept up in that.

“You’re right, Gran. Listen, I’m feeling tired, but thanks for letting me talk to you. It really helped.”

Hanging up, I rest my head on my pillow, close my eyes, and allow mental and physical exhaustion to take me over.

The next day Robert insists on staying home from work to be with me. The moment I wake up he comes into my room, retrieving my insulin case from my drawer and asking if I’ll show him how to use it so I don’t have to do it myself.

I brush him off, telling him I’m not an invalid just yet.

He looks at me like I’m overreacting, but doesn’t argue. Instead, he sits beside me, taking in every step of the procedure. Once I’m finished, I sit back against the pillows, my thoughts scrambling. Somehow, last night I came to a resolution, and it’s not going to be easy communicating that resolution to Robert.

“You’re amazing,” he says, marvelling at me. “Do you want some breakfast? I’ll make anything you like.”

“You don’t have to treat me like a newborn baby, Robert,” I snap at him unnecessarily. My own conscience is eating me up over what I’m about to do. On one level I feel extremely selfish, choosing my own welfare over his, but on another level I feel validated. I’m not built to live in Robert’s whirlwind, and I never have been.

His brow furrows as he reaches forward to rub my arm. “Lana, you’ve just been in a coma. I love you, and I want to take care of you.”

Swallowing hard and sucking back tears, I pull my arm out of his reach. “But that’s just the thing, Rob, you don’t take care of me. In fact, you do just the opposite.”

The look in his eyes makes my stomach twist. In their depths I see each piece of regret he feels for every wrong he’s done me over the years. Finally, he says, “Do you think I don’t feel guilty for what Kara did? For the fact that she did it because of me and that you were the one to get hurt? I told myself I’d never do anything to hurt you ever again, but I did anyway. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

I reach over and squeeze his wrist, unable to resist comforting him despite being the one causing the discomfort. “I’m not saying you did it purposefully. What I’m saying is that it can’t be helped that these things happen to the people in your life. You cause trouble and take risks — it’s in your nature. It’s also what makes you such an addictive person to be around, but more often than not it’s other people who bear the consequences of those risks. Being in this coma has made me realise that I’m far more fragile than I thought, and that I can’t afford the luxury of being with you.”

Robert runs both hands through his dark hair, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. “What are you saying here, Lana?”

“I think you know what I’m saying,” I whisper.

“No, I fucking don’t. Don’t you dare think about taking this peace away from me. I’ve felt more whole this summer than I ever have before. You can’t just click your fingers and stop loving someone.”

“I’ll always love you, perhaps to my own detriment, but I can’t be with you anymore,” I say, my voice barely audible.

He grabs my chin, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them again. “I’m not letting you do this. I love you too much.”

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