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Mum hesitates, and then decides to go all out truth. “Yes.” Her hands wring together. “If I could change everything then I would. I wouldn’t have fallen pregnant. I would have done something, anything, other than lose myself.”
I can’t even comprehend what she is saying. Is she saying she doesn’t want me?
My heart beats so loudly in my chest it feels like I am going to be deafened by the rhythm it pounds. I don’t know what to say. I just run to the only person I know to run to.
His room is dark when I get there. Visiting hours are over, but I’m such a regular visitor I think people forget I’m not actually supposed to be there. I quietly let myself into his room, pulling the shutter down on the door so no one can see in. He’s asleep, sketchpad on his lap, head tilted to the side like a sleeping angel. I slip off my shoes and slide myself under the sheets. His arms tighten around me, and I breathe in the smell that’s still Freddy, despite the hospital influence. Seconds tick by as my body relaxes into his and my tears leak onto his t-shirt, soaking through to his skin. With gentle fingers he lifts my chin so I can meet his eyes. “What happened?”
‘Everything.” My lip wobbles as I try to keep it all contained.
‘Tell me.” His lips brush the top of my head, and I can’t resist. I tell him everything, apart from about the application form. He holds me tight as I admit I’m a mistake and my own mother can’t see anything more for us than bitterness and destruction.
After I’ve finished, he holds me, his hands smoothing my hair. He doesn’t reassure me the way I want though, there is something there unsaid.
Twisting in his arms, I move myself so I can kiss his lips. He responds hungrily as his hands run down my spine. Desire ripples through me at his touch and heat floods through my limbs making them feel heavy and achy.
“Will you make love to me, Freddy?” I whisper in the dim light, my lips trailing against the warm skin of this throat, the scratch of his stubble sending darts of anticipation.
“I don’t know if I can.” His voice is nervous and unsure, and it breaks my heart that the boy who owned me by that fireside at Christmas should have any doubt in his mind.
“Please.” My emotions crack my voice and Freddy shifts himself so his hands can run along all of my body. I relish the sensation of his touch after months of its absence. My skin scorches for more as flames of need lick along my insides.
Gently, I lower my lips and kiss along his collarbone. Then moving as much as the bed will allow, I pull his t-shirt up so I can kiss along his stomach. He quivers under my lips and I venture further, to the waistband of his soft pyjama bottoms. Edging them down, I kiss further, licking with my tongue and grazing with my lips. His hands tug me back towards him, his touch faster and more determined this time. Tucking the sheets around us tight, he lifts my skirt and tugs at my knickers. I shimmy out of them as his strong fingers explore me making me gasp and writhe against his hand.
“You’re going to have to come on top, Amber French,” he says against my throat. I don’t even hesitate. I fit us together, as the love we share weaves around us, binding us tightly together.
Later, when we are presentable, just in case a nurse comes in, he nuzzles against me. “I don’t ever want you to regret me,” he says. The words hum low like he’s telling me a secret.
I look at him in the darkness, my heart burning with love. “I will never regret you.”
