“I’m gonna take a shower. The warm water helps.”
He pulled her wheelchair closer to the bed. “Do you want me to help you transfer?”
“No, I can do it.”
She took hold of the chair and repositioned it, applying the brake. Slowly, she transferred her pain-wracked body into it and made her way to the bathroom.
Sighing, Callum ran a hand down his face. When were things going to get better? Just when she was starting to get things under control, this happens.
Where the hell is Jack? He should be here!
He gritted his teeth and stood up, heading for the kitchen to put a fresh pot of coffee on while Ally was in the shower.
When she appeared in the kitchen some time later, he had prepared a light brunch for both of them. He got the feeling that if he didn’t insist she eat, she wouldn’t bother.
“How do you feel now? Did the shower help?”
“Yeah, a bit.”
As she reached for the coffee, he noticed she still moved gingerly. She sipped her coffee in silence but didn’t touch the food.
“You should eat something to line your stomach,” he cautioned, his tone aiming for ‘concerned friend’ but overshooting the mark and landing smack in the middle of ‘overbearing parent’ instead.
She put her coffee cup down on the table in front of her and grasped it with both hands.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “About what happened that day.”
His heart stopped as her words sank in. After spending the past two weeks wishing she would open up to him, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to hear it now. He felt like he was walking a tightrope.
“Does this have anything to do with the appointment with Pavlovic?”
Ally nodded, the fa?ade starting to crack.
“What happened?”
She looked over at him through tear-filled eyes.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. Just tell me.”
The heartbreak written all over her face sent him into a blind panic.
“It’s not okay.”
He struggled to concentrate on what she was saying rather than the look of pure desolation in her eyes.
“He said that this was it,” she murmured. “It’s been a year, and whatever recovery I’m going to have, I’ve had it. In his words, it’s highly unlikely there will be any further nerve regeneration now. My window’s closed. This is it for me.”
He imagined he saw the last ray of hope die in her eyes, sinking without a trace. If he thought she looked hollow before, he had no comparison for how she looked now. He stood up and walked around the table, kneeling down beside her to gently pull her into his arms. Not for the first time, he found himself wishing that they could trade places. If he could have taken some of the heartache away to deal with on her behalf, he would have, without question.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
Two words, woefully inadequate.
She grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him closer, shuddering sobs wracking her body with such intensity that he winced. He searched for something to say that would ease the pain, yet at the same time knowing it was a fruitless exercise. There was nothing he could say that would ease this. He felt just as helpless as he had barely an hour ago, watching and waiting for the pain medication to take effect. Only there was no medication to take away this pain. It had seared her soul, where he couldn’t reach.
“You’re stronger than you think,” he whispered into her hair. “I promise you that.”
She shook her head, buried in his shoulder. The sobbing continued, but silently now. It was as if the pain inside was so great, it had sucked up every last breath she had. Finally, she spoke, sounding so young and devoid of hope, it squeezed his chest tight as he fought to keep it together.
“I thought if I got better, if I… then he’d come back.”
His heart shuddered to a stop and all he could do was pull her closer.
“If he left because of me, if I scared him, then maybe I could show him that it wasn’t… that I wasn’t… ”
Oh my God. This was what was going on inside her head all this time?
“Listen to me, it doesn’t matter if Jack’s here or not, you’re not alone, do you hear me?”
He smoothed her hair down, feeling completely helpless. Too late, he realised that his wish to take some of her pain away had been granted, and he felt the weight of her sorrow bearing down on him now, crushing him.
Carefully extricating himself from her, he ducked through to the living room, roughly wiping away the tears from his cheeks. Pulling out the box he had replaced in the bookcase prior to her return from the hospital, he took it back into the kitchen. He knelt down beside her as she wiped her eyes, making a valiant effort to hold back the tears.
When she recognised the box in his hand, she groaned. “I don’t want to see that.”