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She bore her scars so bravely but how many times had she lifted her chin and pretended not to care...as she had with him earlier this morning? Carefully he leaned across her and pressed the phone that lay on the bedside table, so that the time appeared; it was already nearly ten a.m.
His throat was dry and the glass of water remained out of reach.
He moved, sliding a hand from under her, careful not to disturb her, and levered himself from the bed. Walking through to the kitchen, he closed the door to muffle the sound and turned on the tap. He downed the glass of water greedily.
Then he retraced his steps, making a detour to retrieve his own phone, which was in his jacket pocket, before he stood there gazing at the sleeping figure. While he respected her decision not to have further surgery he wondered if there wasn’t another way to help her...a way that would leave her free of nightmares about people pointing at her.
A sense of deep grinding impotence rose up inside him. There had to be a way to protect her from all the cruelty out there, the people prepared to gossip and mock.
* * *
Chloe woke up and wondered why she felt so good, then she remembered and she felt even better. Eyes still closed, she patted the bed beside her, realising that the sheets were almost as cold as the sudden tightness behind her breastbone. Nik had left her again.
No, Chloe, this is how paranoia starts.
‘Good morning.’ Nik must have been back to his own room, as he was now wearing an unbuttoned shirt—a very good look on him—and cream linen shorts... Well, you couldn’t have everything, she thought naughtily, knowing she preferred him naked. He was carrying a tray that held a cafetière of coffee, buttered toast and some fresh fruit.
‘Hello.’ She hid the sudden surge of paralysing shyness by grabbing for a piece of toast.
‘Hello to you too. Black or white?’ Nik asked, nudging the bedside lamp out of the way to balance the tray on the little side table. He sat down on the bed beside her and scanned her face.
She pushed a hank of hair from her eyes. ‘Black and thank you, for earlier on.’
‘I’d say it was a pleasure, but I hope that was perfectly obvious.’
She blushed, taking a sip of strong, fragrant coffee, and peeped at him over the rim. ‘For me too.’
‘I’ve been doing a bit of research online.’ He was buzzing with the information he’d discovered and couldn’t wait to share it with her.
She took another sip of coffee and thought ruefully that he had more energy than she did, as she felt tired in places she hadn’t even known existed!
‘I don’t know who your consultant is but there is a team of medics in New York who are working on some new plastic surgery techniques. They’re still at the trial stages but the results are nothing short of miraculous.’
She listened to him in silence but he had lost her after your consultant.
‘I’m not interested.’
The coldness in her flat voice acted like cold water on his enthusiasm. He regarded her in frustration but when he spoke to her his tone was all gentle patience. ‘I don’t think you understand.’
She put down her cup and tightened her grip on the sheet she had gathered across her breasts. ‘No, it’s you who doesn’t understand, Nik. It’s you who hasn’t been listening.’ Or at least understanding. She felt a fool now for believing that he had. ‘You really think there is anything you can tell me about possible treatments? Do you think I haven’t looked into absolutely everything available?’ She pushed her bare leg out from under the covers, shocking a small grimace from him. ‘I’ve been living with this for a long time.’
He shook his head. ‘I realise that—’
‘Do you think I came to this decision lightly?’ she asked him, her anger growing steadily. ‘Do you think I didn’t agonise over it? I came to a decision that is right for me and I need you to respect it.’
‘Obviously, this is an emotional subject,’ he began, ‘but—’
Her lips tightened. ‘Don’t patronise me and don’t try and change me. You need to accept me as I am, or walk away.’
He held his hands out flat in a pacifying gesture; this conversation was not going at all the way he had anticipated! ‘There is no need to overreact.’
She arched a brow. ‘No? Well, how would you feel if I brought you a cup of tea and told you all about the PTSD that you are suffering from?’ She saw his flinch and ignored it. ‘That I suddenly became an expert on your problem.’ Her mouth tightened as her resentment rose.
‘We are not talking about me.’
‘Yeah, because unlike you I’m not in denial about my problem...and it isn’t a problem for me. The only problem is the attitude of people like you!’
While she had been speaking the colour had gradually leaked from his face and by the time she’d finished his warm skin tone was ivory.
‘I’m trying to help you!’ he ground out, getting to his feet.
‘How about helping yourself first? I don’t need fixing. You’re the one who won’t even admit he has a problem!’ she flung back, wanting to hurt him as much as he had her. A strange sense of calm settled over her as she looked up at him...this damaged, beautiful man she had grown to love in such a short space of time. This thing between them, whatever it was, had been doomed from the outset. It had never been going to work; she had only been fooling herself.
Why drag it out? she asked herself sadly.
‘Until you sort yourself out... I don’t want anything to do with you!’
