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And then his chest crashes into mine, throwing his arms around my back.
“I’m sorry,” I whimper, holding on to his body like I’ll collapse if I don’t.
“Don’t you dare,” he whispers. “Don’t you dare apologise for what you’ve been through.” Pulling back, he cups my cheek, stroking the freshly smooth skin with his thumb. “I’m just so happy to hear your voice. And you smell good. I’m guessing you haven’t smoked since you’ve been here.”
Right until he said that, I haven’t craved for a cigarette. Now, I suddenly miss the taste. “Don’t suppose you’ve brought any with you?”
“No, and I’m not going to either.” He sounds so bossy. I adore it when he tries to act all alpha-male on me. It never works, but I’ll let him have his moment.
“There’s a tool in the drawer under the microwave,” I tell him as we settle into our seats, opposite one another. “For the lights. It’s like a small suction cup.”
“You can show me when you get out of here.”
I nod, attempting to smile, but the muscles in my face aren’t working. “How are things going at work?”
“I haven’t been in so I don’t really know. Max has it covered though. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“But…you won’t get paid.” A sigh escapes from my mouth. He shouldn’t lose money because of me. “If you need anything, you can use my credit card. You know that, right?”
“My mum’s been helping me out, and I have my royalties. I’m doing fine.”
“I’m glad you’ve had people to support you.” It gets me thinking. “Did, um, my mother visit while I was in hospital?”
Theodore’s expression drops, and I already know the answer. “Um, no. No, she didn’t.”
The knowledge stings, but I’m not mad with her. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to see your child in that position. I let her down.
“Is it hard?” Theodore asks, changing the subject. He doesn’t need to admit it aloud for me to know he doesn’t like my mother. “Being in here?”
“I’ve been on nicer holidays,” I tease.
He rolls his eyes at me. “And…how are you feeling?” His voice is quiet, cautious.
“Are you asking if I still want to kill myself?”
“No! Well…”
“I don’t think so,” is the best I can offer. “I still have a long way to go.”
“But you think being in here is helping?”
“I hope so.”
He looks disappointed, but I can’t lie to him to make him feel better. That’s what landed me in here in the first place.
“What about you? How have you been?”
“Terrified.”
Reaching out, I take his hand in mine. The warmth of his skin, the way his fingers fit perfectly in mine, makes all my problems disappear…for now, at least.
“Why wouldn’t you see me?” he asks, his voice low, hesitant.
“Shame. Anger…”
“You were angry with me?”
“I was angry that you saved my life. I was angry that you were still here, that you didn’t move on. I was angry at myself for hurting you, for not doing the job properly. I was angry at everything.”
“God, James,” he breathes, closing his eyes while he comprehends what I’m saying. “I wish you’d felt like you could tell me these things.”
“I’m working on that.”
“With Peter?”
“Yes.”
“You like him?” He looks surprised.
“Some of the time. He gets me to talk. I’ve no idea how.”
“I do. You won’t let anyone be a bigger arsehole than you. He’s making you fight for dominance.”
Blowing out a chuckle, I nod. “You might be onto something there.”
For the rest of our time together we talk about casual things – Tess and her girlfriend, his brother and impending fatherhood, the fact the walls in this room are painted vomit-yellow. The conversation is light, easy, and he doesn’t push me for anything more.
At one point his gaze lands on my wrist, and I stop him when he reaches out to touch it. “Not yet,” I whisper, tugging on my sleeve.
He nods faintly, immediately focusing on my face. “Can I come back tomorrow?” he asks after the nurses rings the time-up bell.
Cupping the back of his neck, I press my forehead to his. “I’d like that.”
He’s so close, yet I don’t feel the urge to kiss him. Holding him, inhaling his scent, feeling the warmth of his breath on my face, is all I need. When he finally breaks away I feel like I’ve healed just a tiny bit more.
“And Max? I know he’s desperate to see you.”
Blowing steadily through pursed lips, I try to quell the anxiety taking over my body. “Sure.”
He’s your brother. You can do this.
“Is he…” I cough to clear the lump of nerves that’s appeared in my throat. “Is he mad at me?”
Theodore sighs through his nose, squeezing me a little tighter. “Nobody is mad at you, James. Nobody.”
I bet my mother is. I don’t think she means it to, but worry has always come out as anger ever since I can remember.
That damn bell rings again and, after laying a chaste kiss on Theodore’s lips, I reluctantly unpeel myself from his body. “I love you.”
Theodore smiles, wrapping his arms around me for a final time and crushing me to his chest. “Thank you,” he mouths. “I love you, too. Always.”
Theodore gave me a bigger gift than he could ever realise today. He gave me that inkling of hope I’ve been searching for. Back in my room I figure out just how to tell him so, too. The song he chose for me by A Great Big World has been playing on a loop in my head since the first time I listened to it, and I know the perfect song of theirs to reply with. One Step Ahead. So, pulling out my iPod, I create a new playlist titled Thank you and add just that song. I will give it back to him tomorrow.
When dinner rolls around, filled with a newfound sense of determination, I refuse to eat alone in my room again. Heading out into the communal dining room, I suck in a deep, preparing breath, and pull out a chair next to Nancy. I know I’m being watched, and that this will be marked down as progress in my file, and it fills me with a small sense of pride. I am making progress. I will make more. I will get better.
