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There was an expectant lull and Evie realised with a start that she was expected to offer her personal experience here.
Oh, joy.
She cast a surreptit
ious glance at Max, but he was steadfastly ignoring her, focused on the nephrologist. She twisted the pamphlet in her hands, buying herself a few more precious moments. With her palms sweating she felt more like an adolescent than a woman, and a doctor to boot.
‘It’s not exactly the...sexiest thing, being on dialysis, is it?’ she mumbled.
‘So you experienced a loss of sex drive?’
Her whole face felt as though it were on fire. This was excruciating. How many times had she replayed their wild, sensual explosive five nights together, just to get through the last year?
‘Not exactly a loss, no.’
Both Max and the surgeon sat—one waiting stiffly, the other waiting patiently—for her to carry on. Clearly they weren’t about to let her off the hook. She saw Professor Goodwin, glancing down at her lap, pucker her eyebrows. Following the surgeon’s eyes, Evie finally noticed the shredded pamphlet on her own lap.
Giveaway or what?
‘I know this isn’t the easiest conversation to have, Evie. But understanding what point you’re at both mentally and physically, in terms of your sexual needs, is an important part of the recovery process. Which is why it helps to acknowledge where you were before the transplant and where you hope to be post-transplant, as your recovery progresses.’
Evie jerked her head into something resembling a nod, working her tongue into a response.
‘It was a difficult year,’ she started, falteringly. ‘My renal deterioration was quite rapid, especially being pregnant with Imogen, and I went from feeling completely healthy eighteen months ago, to needing dialysis five times a week during the last few months of carrying Imogen.’
‘So which do you believe had the greater impact on your sex drive? The physical drain of the pregnancy and dialysis, or the psychological effect of them?’
‘I don’t know.’ Evie tapped out some unknown tune on the wood as she stalled for time. ‘A bit of both, I suppose.’
‘And can you remember...? When was the last time you wanted physical intimacy?’
This was the question she’d most wanted to avoid. Especially here, in front of Max. A fresh wave of heat flooded her cheeks, but what choice did she have?
‘A few days ago,’ she muttered awkwardly.
She felt Max’s eyes burning into her neck, and kept her gaze resolutely forward.
‘Hmm, you’re currently...’ Professor Goodwin checked her notes ‘...eleven days post-op, so that’s very positive. And did you actually have physical intimacy?’
Evie shook her head.
‘Was that because of a lack of energy? Because the desire waned? Or something else.’
‘Something else,’ Evie managed.
‘Right?’ Both a statement and an encouragement to continue.
Evie chose to ignore the latter. She couldn’t bring herself to tell anyone, least of all in front of Max, that it was because her attraction wasn’t reciprocated.
So she flailed around in her head for an alternative explanation that might sound convincing, but nothing came.
‘Evie...?’ Arabella urged gently, smiling kindly as Evie could only stare helplessly at her.
Evie opened her mouth but nothing came out.
‘Let me get another of these for you.’ The surgeon stood up unexpectedly. ‘I’ll be back in a moment.’
Evie watched her leave gratefully. Clearly Arabella Goodwin was not only a good surgeon but a compassionate individual. This was a perfect excuse to give Evie and Max a moment together, and Evie a chance to compose herself. The woman couldn’t have known that Evie could easily have clung onto the woman’s immaculately tailored suit and begged her not to leave herself and Max alone in the room.
