She crossed her arms around her waist, imagining she could feel his arms around her again, as they had been only minutes before. She could still smell his cologne on her clothes, even through the blocked nose that all those tears and heartache had caused. Her arms felt empty and hollow without him in them. It was as if her centre of gravity had shifted.
After years of trying to forget what he smelled like, trying to ignore the way her body wanted to meld with his at bedtime, trying to fight off tears when she thought of his soft, warm lips searching hers – trying to forget him – now he was all over her subconscious again.
She wanted him to stay so badly, it scared her.
The kiss they shared was like the stuff of dreams, alcohol warping and magnifying some details while removing others completely. She remembered that he tasted of beer, she knew he had wanted it as much as she had and she knew that when he pulled away, she didn’t want it to end. But he had pulled away, and she had been too frightened to mention it since. It seemed safer to forget it ever happened. If only she could.
She could still feel his hands on her bare skin, and it had opened a portal somewhere deep inside of her. Her rampant imagination wondered about things she had been too afraid to consider for so long. Could they make love the way they used to, even with her limitations? Would he even want to? She wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. She felt nauseous herself, just thinking about it. Would she even be able to feel anything at all? How would it work, logistically, even if by some miracle, they managed to get to that stage?
It wasn’t just the sex itself, it was the minefield of emotions and technical difficulties that went with it. Lack of sensation and mobility weren’t the only stumbling blocks. She was so self-conscious, the thought of Jack seeing her naked body – all of it – sent her into a blind panic. She buried her face in her hands as she remembered the sickening look on his face when he had seen her, half-naked, on her bedroom floor.
The last time they had made love she had been a different person, in every sense of the word. She meticulously catalogued the number of things she was unwilling or unable to share with him. The list seemed never-ending.
By sharing this darkness with him, she had only added to his burden and she doubted she would ever be able to forgive herself. It was bad enough that she had to see the pain she had inflicted in everyone else’s eyes, but now she would see it in his, too.
Every time he looked at her, he would know.
Two and a Half Years Earlier
Callum sat across the table from Tom, nervous as he watched him browse the information pack that had arrived yesterday.
It had been almost four months since Ally’s suicide attempt and it felt like they had lost her. The old Ally had gone, leaving behind a shell, hollow and empty. As each day passed, the wall she built around herself seemed to get higher. The counsellor was happy with her progress, but he wasn’t – far from it, in fact. Desperation had set in. He would find his own solution. Jack may not be here, but he was.
Tom closed the glossy brochure and put it down, picking up the booklet that accompanied it.
“Well?” Callum prompted. “What do you think?”
Tom took his glasses off and ran a hand down his face. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? What don’t you know?”
“It all looks great, don’t get me wrong – it looks incredible actually – amazing work they’re doing here. Where did you hear about this again?”
“I found it online. Then I called the hospital and asked if they knew anything about it. They said it’s legit.” He leaned forward. “It works, Tom, the program works. They can get her walking again.”
Tom looked skeptical and Callum sat back in his chair.
“Well, not walking – they can’t repair the damage, obviously – but they can get her walking with braces and crutches, full time. It’s a whole new life, no more chair.”
Tom glanced down at the glossy brochure in front of him and Callum followed his gaze. A man standing in braces stared back at them, as if reinforcing his words.
“This is the hope she’s been looking for, I know it is.”
Tom stared at the brochure a moment longer and sighed, putting his glasses back on. “With all this research you’ve done, did you find out if her insurance will cover it?”
Callum shook his head. “That’s the tricky part. But I can cover it myself – with a little help.”
“How in hell are you gonna do that? This is a lot of money, son.”
“I’ve got a buyer for the van. With that, and my savings, I’ve already got most of it. I just need to see the bank for the balance.”
“A bank loan?” Tom frowned, and Callum could read his mind.
He silently dared him to talk him out of it, eyeballing him across the table.
“We need living expenses for the duration, for the both of us. She’s not going through this alone.”