by H L Day
Indy's eyes narrowed. "You can't just hang on to my keys once we're done. That's not how it works."
"Yeah, about that..." I regarded him steadily, searching for more clues that things weren't what they seemed. He wasn't at work when he should have been. There was the lack of eye contact. And then of course there was the evidence that had only manifested itself in the few minutes since I'd been gone. "Have you been crying?"
Indy's expression radiated scorn, his hand moving to rub at one of his eyes. "Of course not. Don't be stupid. I had something in it. That's all."
"Both of them?"
He shook his head. "I need you to leave. We're done." He held his hand out. "Keys?"
I crossed my arms over my chest, planting my feet wide apart and hoping the message read loud and clear. I didn't intend to go anywhere. Not yet, anyway. Not until I got some answers from him. "Because I'm going to tell you what it looks like to me. It looks as if you dumped me and then got upset about it. Which, of course, would raise the question of why you'd do it in the first place if it's not what you want."
Indy took a step back as if he wanted to put extra space between us. "You're grasping at straws."
"Am I?"
Indy laughed but it sounded fake and artificial. "Well, obviously. What possible reason could I have for dumping you if it wasn't what I wanted?"
Unlike earlier, he now seemed to be making an enormous effort to maintain eye contact, almost to the point of forgetting to blink. "I don't know. But that's what I'm trying to find out. And I'm not leaving until I do."
Indy let out a shaky breath. "Paul, why are you making this so difficult?"
I ignored his question and tried a different tack. "Why aren't you working tonight? You're supposed to be." I let my gaze drift back to the sofa and the blanket. "Are you ill? What's wrong with you?"
"I'm fine."
I stepped closer, scrutinizing him closely. It was only up close that it became apparent how pale he was. There were dark shadows under his red-rimmed eyes as well. "No, you're not. You might as well tell me what's going on."
Indy rubbed at his eye again. "I'm a bit run-down, that's all. Surely I'm allowed to take one night off work without facing the Spanish Inquisition, especially when we're not together anymore, so it's none of your business. But then, you seem to be having great difficulty in grasping that fact."
The more evasive he became, the more I knew I was right. He didn't want to dump me. There was a reason we were going through this ridiculous charade. I just needed to peel back the layers and discover what it was. The urge to grab him and shake the words out of his mouth was strong, but it was doubtful I'd have a lot of success with that technique. "I'm having great difficulty grasping it because your mouth might be saying the words, but everything else about you is virtually screaming the opposite. Things have been great between us. We might have had a rocky start..." I held my hands up in the air. "...which was my fault for being an obstinate son of a bitch who refused to see what was right in front of his face. Since I saw sense though, things couldn't have been better. You've got no reason to dump me. Nothing that makes sense anyway."
Indy's eyebrows rose. "Wow! Arrogant, much? I didn't realize that you were Paul the un-dumpable. You have annoying habits, you know."
I shrugged. "Doesn't everyone? You're not so perfect yourself."
A glimmer of a smile appeared on Indy's face before he quickly masked it. "What do I have to do to get you to leave?"
There was a note of desperation in his voice that was painful to hear. What the hell could be so bad that he wouldn't tell me? "I guess you've got two choices. Ring the police and take out a restraining order against me, or tell me what's really going on. I heartily recommend the second option. Much quicker and easier."
Indy turned his back on me, crossing the room to stand in front of the fish tank. I followed, stopping a short distance away, and staring at the dragon tattoo—now so familiar to me, given how often I'd traced its outline, that I could probably draw it in my sleep. He reached for the container of fish food he kept next to the tank, unscrewing the lid, and sliding the top of the tank across to shake a few flakes onto the surface of the water. My frustration grew. Was this a new tactic? Just pretend I wasn't there and hope I got bored? "Indy?"
He shook out a few more flakes. "Just give me a minute, Paul. This isn't easy for me."
"Okay."
There was silence for the next few minutes, both of us watching the colorful fish dart to the surface to snatch the fish food. Finally, Indy sighed. "It's better to end things now."
"Why?"
His shoulders slumped. "I think... the way I've been feeling for the last few days, I think it's back."
"It?" The answer to my own question came to me in a rush, the clues all slotting together. "Do you mean the leukemia?"
He gave a jerky nod before turning around, his eyes damp. "So, if that's the case, you don't want to be with me. It'll be messy. It'll be unpleasant. You didn't sign up to get stuck with an invalid. I wanted to give you the option to walk away."
I stared at him, my emotions such a jumble that it was hard to separate one from the other. Anger that he hadn't felt he could tell me. Sadness at what he'd just said. Frustration that it had taken so long to get him to tell the truth. Unable to pick one to go with, I settled on focusing on his words. "Except that's not what you did. You didn't give me the option. You just went cold on me in order to push me away. If I'd left like you intended, you'd never have told me, would you?"
I wasn't surprised by his nod. It had been more of a rhetorical question anyway. He sighed. "I was thinking of you."
"Well, that's..." I shook my head. I didn't know what it was, apart from insane. I took a moment to get my head straight. It was pointless dwelling on the fact that he'd tried to push me away. Besides, if I was honest, I could sort of understand it. What I needed to focus on was him. On what Indy needed and what we were going to do now. First things first, I needed all of the pertinent information. "What have the doctors said?" He turned to slide the cover of the fish tank back into place. I recognized a delaying tactic when I saw one. I stepped forward, forcing myself into his line of sight. "You have seen one?"
Green eyes settled back on mine. "Not yet."
"So you could be fine?"
His gaze dropped to the floor. "I still remember what it felt like last time before I was diagnosed. I've got the same symptoms... fatigue... weakness. I wasn't sure at first, and then I had a nosebleed yesterday. That's another symptom. I don't need a doctor to tell me what I already know. And once I see one, then the whole thing starts again, all the tests, the chemo. I'll have to tell my family. I just wanted a couple of days of trying to get my head around it."
My heart broke for him. "Come here." I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around him, and hanging on tightly when he tried to struggle out of my embrace. "Stay still."
"Paul, I want you to walk away from me. It's the right thing to do. It'll be so much easier now while we're in the early days of our relationship. I don't want you staying with me out of guilt or because you feel sorry for me. I won't blame you. Honest."
I buried my face in his hair, breathing in the familiar scent. "It's too late for that."
"What do you mean?"
"You're talking like just because we haven't been seeing each other for long that I don't have feelings. Well, I do. All the feelings." I pulled back so I could look him in the face, my hand lifting to cup his cheek, my thumb tracing his cheekbone. "I can't walk away from you because I'm already in love with you. I have been for weeks. I just didn't say it because I'm an idiot. But then, you already knew that."
His eyelids fluttered closed for a few seconds before opening again. "Oh! I thought it was just me."
Relief hit me square in the chest, but even with everything else going on, I needed him to spell it out. "You love me too?"
He wrapped his arms back around me, his head coming to rest on my chest. "Yes, Paul. Despite the fact tha
t you're probably the most infuriating man I've ever met, who never does what he's supposed to do—including getting angry and leaving when you're dumped—I love you."
A buzz of warmth crept its way slowly around my body. "Since when?"
His words were muffled, his mouth buried in my shirt. "I don't remember. It snuck up on me before I could stop it. What about you?"
I kissed the top of his head. "Same."
He sighed. "What happens now?"
That was a good question, but an easy one to answer as long as I didn't overthink things. Indy was it for me. No matter what dodgy ground our relationship might have started on, there was no way I could imagine sharing such an emotional and physical connection with anyone else. "We face whatever's coming, together. We get you a doctor's appointment and get all the necessary tests, and if the leukemia is back..." I coughed in an attempt to cover up the fact that my voice had cracked. I needed to be the strong one. Indy had been on his own the last time he'd had to face it. He wasn't on his own now though, no matter how much he'd tried to engineer that exact scenario. "...then we face that too. Whatever happens, I'll be there for you. Promise you won't try and push me away again."
Indy lifted his head, his cheeks tear-streaked. "You might change your mind when I lose my hair and I'm throwing up all day long."
I rubbed my hand over his head. "You'd still be gorgeous even without any hair. And as for the throwing up, I've got a younger brother. Been there, done that. Now, where's that promise?"
Indy managed a smile. "I promise not to try and push you away again."
I led him over to the sofa, managing to squeeze us both on there with Indy tucked against my chest before pulling the blanket over both of us. "Why don't you try and get some sleep?" Indy nodded and I dropped a platonic kiss on his forehead. "Love you."
He closed his eyes. "Love you too."
I watched him until he drifted off, unable to shake off the fear of the huge mistake I'd nearly made. I owed Gabrielle some flowers or something.
Chapter Eighteen
"I HATE THE SMELL OF this place."
I placed my hand on Indy's thigh, the same one that had been jiggling up and down for the last ten minutes. It wasn't an attempt to get it to stop. I just wanted to try and offer some sort of reassurance, no matter how ineffectual it might be. "I know." He didn't need to say that it reminded him of his frequent visits to the hospital when he'd had leukemia. It was written all over his face. The same as it had been when we'd come in for the tests three days before. Given his history, they'd insisted on taking a bone marrow biopsy along with the blood tests.
"How much longer do you think we're going to have to wait?"
I glanced at the clock on the wall of the waiting room. It said half past one, fifteen minutes past his appointment time. "Not much longer, hopefully." I gestured around the waiting room, indicating the lack of empty seats. "They're very busy. They're probably running behind."
Indy exhaled, leaning forward and staring down at the floor, the leg jiggling twice as fast. "Thanks for taking the time off work to come with me."
"It's not a big deal." It hadn't been. It seemed there were unexpected perks to your closest friend being in a relationship with the boss. I'd spilled all the details to Dom, only for Tristan to seek me out within the hour and tell me that whatever time I needed to take off to support Indy was fine. It had meant I'd been able to accompany him for the tests as well as his appointment today to get the results. And I was going to stick by him for whatever came next. I guessed that would become much clearer once we had the facts. We just needed to get in there first to be able to find out.
Indy lifted his head as the receptionist called a name, only to drop it again when it wasn't his. I tried to think of a suitable subject to distract him. "Want to buy a fish after this?"
He turned his head toward me. "A fish! What sort of fish?"
"One for your tank. I don't know what they are. A colorful fish. I thought you might want to get a new one. You can call it Paul."
A faint echo of a smile appeared on his lips, the first one I'd seen all day. "First you want me to get your name tattooed on my arm. Now you want me to name a new pet after you. Self-obsessed much? Maybe I should get five new ones. I could call them Paul one, Paul two, Paul—"
"Yeah! yeah! I get it. Don't be silly. Maybe Paul, Pauline, Pauletta, Paolo—"
"Archibald Rogers-Henderson!"
Both our heads shot up. It was a definite sign of how fraught the situation was that neither of us even batted an eyelid at the use of his official name. Indy took a deep breath before standing. "Here we go then."
I'd already won the argument earlier when he'd suggested I could wait outside while he saw the doctor. There was no way I was letting that happen. The doctor—Dr. Harris, as he introduced himself—waved us into the two seats adjacent to his desk. He squinted down at the piece of paper he held. I took Indy's hand, threading our fingers together, our joined hands resting in his lap. Dr. Harris finally shifted his gaze from the piece of paper. "I have your results here, both for the blood test and the bone marrow biopsy. I see they were expedited due to your past medical history."
Indy managed a nod. I squeezed his trembling hand. I felt sick. God only knows how he was feeling.
The doctor skimmed the piece of paper again. "Your white cell count is normal and your bone marrow biopsy came back negative for any changes linked to leukemia."
Indy went still next to me. It was left to me to ask the question. "Are you saying that the leukemia isn't back?"
The doctor smiled. "That's exactly what I'm saying. You're still in remission, Mr. Rogers-Henderson. We'll continue to schedule the annual checks that you've been receiving, but at the moment, you don't have a reoccurrence. It will be a few more years before we can classify you as cured."
I sat back in the chair, feeling as if someone had lifted a heavy weight off my chest. Indy sat forward in his. "But I don't understand... all my symptoms have been exactly the same as when I was diagnosed, the fatigue, the weakness, the nosebleed I had. Are you saying I imagined it all?"
The doctor shook his head. "Of course not. The blood test did show a low red cell count. They carried out extra tests, which revealed that you're anemic. Anemia gives many of the same symptoms associated with leukemia. It's only natural that you would jump to the conclusion that you did. In your case, the anemia is down to a lack of vitamin B12. This means that your body's been unable to transport as much oxygen around it as it needs, which accounts for the fatigue you've been feeling."
Indy let out a breath slowly. "Is it treatable?"
Dr. Harris nodded. "The nurse will give you a shot of hydroxocobalamin, which should make you feel better within a few hours. We'll need to do a few more investigations, ask you some questions about your diet, check that there's no underlying cause. If we can't improve your vitamin B12 levels through diet, then the worse-case scenario is that we'll need to prescribe you a supplement or continue to give you injections at six-month intervals."
It wasn't fantastic news, especially the part about Indy needing further investigations, but in comparison to the possibility of the leukemia being back, it felt like a lottery win. Indy's body language demonstrated that he felt exactly the same.
It was a few more minutes before we were able to leave the doctor's office. After another short wait to get the shot from the nurse and a completed questionnaire about his dietary habits, which were by no means fantastic going by his answers, we were finally out in the fresh air. I pulled him around the corner, away from the constant stream of people entering and exiting the hospital. He smiled, but it was decidedly sheepish. "I feel like such a drama queen. I was so convinced that the leukemia was back. God! I almost pushed you away for nothing."
I pulled him in close, gripping on to the lapels of his jacket. "But you didn't. You tried, but luckily I'm far too stubborn for that to have worked. Actually, you can probably thank Dominic when you meet him. I've been basing all my relati
onship decisions on his mistakes and so far it's worked like a dream."
Indy flattened his palms against my chest, his expression intense. "Well, as long as you're not going to take back your declaration of love, now that I'm not going to drop dead anytime soon."
I pasted the best expression of confusion on my face that I could muster. "Declaration of love? I don't think I remember that. What did I say exactly? I think maybe you misheard something. Was I talking about a dove perhaps? Or maybe another word that sounds similar... above, shove?" I laughed as the last word was precisely what I got from Indy as a response, his hands shoving me none too gently against the wall. I pulled him in for a lingering kiss, just in case there was any danger of him thinking I was serious. "I guess I'm stuck with you."
Indy's lips curled into a wide smile. "I guess you are." He exhaled, letting all the built-up tension seep out of his body. "Do you have to go back to work?"
I shook my head. "Nope. I'm all yours. What did you have in mind?"
Indy took my hand, leading me down the street and away from the hospital. "Well, you promised to buy me five fish."
"I don't think that's quite what I said."
"Oh, I think you did."
"I think you'll find I said one."
"I distinctly remember you naming them all. I can't wait to find out what the fifth one's going to be called."
Neither could I, seeing as I was pretty sure I'd exhausted every take on the name Paul possible by the end of the fourth one. "Maybe we should keep it at three? We don't want to overfill the tank. Think about those poor fish all squashed up together."
"Five."
"Four."
Indy scowled at me but there was amusement lurking in his beautiful green eyes. "Five."
I didn't care. I'd buy him fifty fish, along with another tank, and name them all if it made him happy.
"YOU HOLD IT."
I shoved it back into his arms. "No, you. You've got no shame."
Indy's mouth dropped open. "How do you work that one out?"
