Chapter Thirty-Three
March 2017
‘You mustn’t take it personally,’ Grace said down the phone line almost a week later. Until now, Lydia hadn’t told anyone what had happened that day at rehab, when Theo had yelled at her. ‘Easier said than done, I know, but he’s like it with everyone. Up one minute on the highest of highs, then down lower than you could ever have seen coming the next. It’s the frustration at his loss of memory, his inability to do the things he wants to do. I know he’s angry and regretful for the things he did.’
Lydia managed a smile as she tucked her legs beneath her on the sofa. ‘I know he is.’
‘He was an arse to you and he’s sorry. Just don’t give up on him yet.’
Lydia promised she wouldn’t and she meant it, but in many ways, she felt as though she’d gone back to those early days of Theo’s accident where her life revolved around him and what was going to happen, no room for anything else.
The next day it was time to go to the rehab centre again. With Grace’s words in her head, she told herself over and over that if he was angry, it wasn’t personal, if he was having a bad day she needed to accept it.
She locked the car and crunched her way across the now-familiar gravel driveway. Birdsong in the air welcomed spring, along with the colour and vibrancy in blooms bravely popping their heads out. Even daffodils were starting to appear and nod their sunny yellow approval that warmth and longer days were fast approaching.
The nurse at the front desk said Theo had had physio early this morning plus a few routine tests, then he’d slept but had seemed cheerful following lunch. He was up in his room so Lydia followed the familiar route down the corridor, made a left, took the lift up to the next floor, and when she knocked she was grateful of the welcoming voice she heard from the other side.
‘I’ve hated myself for days, since being so rude to you.’ He said it the second she entered the room.
‘You’ve apologised enough, Theo. It’s all forgotten, honestly.’ She sat down on the chair beside the bed where he was sitting up with a book on his lap. ‘What are you reading?’ He lifted the book enough for her to see the cover and she smiled knowingly. ‘He’s your favourite author. You have every single one of his books after you read the first when we found it in the library.’ She already knew it was during the time period he couldn’t remember.
‘That’s the beauty of losing your memory,’ he quipped. ‘I now have all of his books to read again for the first time.’
His comment was made without bitterness, with enough of an injection of humour that she could see he was having a good day and she laughed along with him.
He shut the book, and using his arms that looked to be gaining muscle once again, he gingerly swung his legs to the edge of the bed, and when Lydia asked if he needed help this time he let her hold his arm as he stood. She didn’t have to do much, it was a guidance more than taking his weight, but it was the closest they’d been since he woke up from the accident. She could smell the warm, manly scent she’d lay next to for so many nights before. Her eyes fell to his lips, pink and healthy looking and slightly parted. She looked away but when he said her name and their bodies pressed together enough for her to know he was standing on his own and she didn’t need to support him, she couldn’t stop looking at this man. He’d been through hell and back, and here he was, asking for a second chance.
She tilted her chin slightly and her lips met his, gently, almost as though she was scared she’d hurt him. And in those few moments of contact she felt their love as strong as ever.
When they pulled apart he stumbled back a little against the bed, but he was smiling when he sat down, rather than grimacing or getting angry at what he still had to tackle on a daily basis.
‘You made me weak at the knees.’ He joked.
‘You haven’t lost your sense of humour, have you?’
‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’
‘You do?’
He tapped the side of his nose and then asked her to wait here for ten minutes. ‘Then come downstairs to the main entrance,’ he told her.
It felt odd but she did as he’d instructed and after ten minutes made her way downstairs. Daisy, the girl on reception was obviously in on whatever he had up his sleeve because she gestured for Lydia to follow. They didn’t go out of the front entrance. Instead they made their way through the old mansion, weaving down corridors and past rooms until they reached another door, which led out to the back. ‘He’s out there,’ Daisy told her.
When Lydia opened the door, lush green fields stretched way beyond the fence at the end of the extensive gardens belonging to the house, and Theo was at the end of a pathway, still in the wheelchair, sitting at an iron table with what looked like a basket on the top.
‘What’s all this?’ Lydia smiled as she realised it wasn’t just a wicker basket, but a picnic complete with Appletise, sandwiches, crisps, pork pie and lemon drizzle cake.
‘I was such an arse to you the other day when all you were trying to do was be kind,’ he said. ‘I deserved to be punched.’
‘I’m sure that could be arranged.’ She smiled flirtatiously, reminded of the early days with Theo.
He clearly felt the vibe too and happily told her, ‘I roped in the staff and Mum, and got all this food together because I do remember the picnic that day in the park, and how lovely it was.’
Lydia laughed. ‘Do you remember the size of the hailstones?’
His gaze didn’t leave hers. ‘That too. But it was romantic, you have to admit.’
Nervously she sat down opposite him and neither of them wasted time getting stuck in to the pork pie, sandwiches that were perfectly made, a lemon drizzle cake all zingy and fresh.
