If she’d been sad before that email, she was positively miserable after it. I had another trip looming and I wasn’t exactly sure what I was supposed to do if she was still this depressed when the time came to fly out. I started to worry – I dragged her out of the apartment for walks and sunshine, brought her meals and tried to persuade her to eat them – and generally did my best to be both patient and supportive. When I tried to talk to her, Molly only assured me she was glad to have had an impetus to force her to make a change. The relief of those words did not at all match the misery of her behaviour.
I wanted to be supportive and encouraging, and I think I was – at first. But by day I was working on a plan to dig deeper into the growing civil unrest in Syria and the increasingly difficult conditions people there were facing, and by night my extremely wealthy girlfriend seemed to be in deep mourning over the loss of a job she hated! It was maddening.
When I could no longer postpone my trip overseas, I decided it was time to take drastic action. I rang her as I left the News Monthly office one afternoon. ‘How about you get dressed?’ I suggested quietly. ‘I’m taking you out.’
‘What for?’ she asked, in that almost monotonous tone that did awful things to my soul.
‘I think it’s time to show you my gym,’ I murmured.
‘I’m really not in the mood for a workout, Leo.’
‘I’m not taking you there for a workout,’ I said, and I sighed. ‘I’m taking you there for perspective.’
‘Oh God,’ she groaned, ‘I don’t like the sound of that either! Can’t I just wallow in my self-pity for a bit longer?’
‘Wear running shoes and jeans, I’ll pick you up in half an hour.’
21
Molly – August 2015
‘I’m taking you somewhere positive today,’ I tell Leo when I arrive at his room the next afternoon.
‘There were lots of things that were positive about yesterday,’ he replies, and he winks at me as he switches his Kindle off. I know he’s talking about the kiss that I should never have initiated, and I flush.
‘I’m sure there were, but perhaps not the part where the wife you barely remember virtually drowned you in tears for no apparent reason,’ I mutter.
‘Actually, yesterday I felt like a man supporting his wife instead of a useless invalid.’ I try to think of a profound way to respond to that, but Leo saves me. ‘It’s not all about you, you know,’ he teases. I smile in spite of myself.
‘Where are we going today then?’ he asks.
‘I think it’s time I show you the Foundation.’
‘Ah, the famous Foundation that I know almost nothing about, other than the fact that Tobias works there. Who I also know nothing about.’
Sarcasm, again. I draw in a breath, hold it while I count to five, then release it. ‘I am trying to help you with that, Leo.’
‘There’s no need to be defensive, I was just making a joke.’ The casual dismissiveness of his statement is fuel to the fire of my irritation.
‘Well, it’s not something you should––’ I start sharply, but he reaches out and takes my hand, and the gesture surprises me into silence. I try to tug my hand away, but he holds it with determination.
‘Molly,’ he says, gently. ‘I am only trying to poke fun at my situation. I am well aware that it’s not actually funny – I hate every second of this. I am just trying to keep things light. Please, don’t think that means I’m not appreciative of everything you are doing for me.’
I sigh and tug at my hand one last time. Leo releases it, but he watches me closely. ‘Should we go?’
‘Not yet.’ He lifts his hand and points towards his lips. His eyes are on mine. ‘Well, you just got stroppy with me, so I think we need to kiss and make up before we go anywhere.’
I bend to kiss him stiffly. ‘There,’ I say, but before I can rise, he lifts his hands to very gently cup my face, sliding his fingers into the hair behind my ears. He used to kiss me like that all the time, holding me close, as if our lips connecting weren’t enough contact for him.
‘I know you still like to kiss me – you showed me that last night. Let’s do it properly,’ he whispers, and then he leans forward and kisses me very tenderly. It’s awkward because I’m bending down to reach him, but the gentle movement of his lips against mine softens the last of my irritation. He does not release my face as he kisses me; instead, he maintains a gentle hold on the back of my head. When he breaks away after a moment, he brushes his thumb over my cheek. ‘Truce?’
‘Okay,’ I whisper back weakly. I feel as if my heart is going to beat its way out of my chest. He’s right – I do still like kissing him. I have always loved the feel of his mouth against mine. When I am close to him, his scent instantly makes me feel safe – it’s the very reason I used to put off washing the sheets on our bed when he travelled.
‘We should go,’ I say. I don’t want to be as affected by the kiss as I am and so I overcompensate with a too-tight tone, but I can feel the flush on my cheeks and as I straighten, I feel a little giddy from the intensity of the moment.
I hear the sigh in his voice, but Leo nods towards the door. ‘Lead the way, sweetheart.’