Kirsty acknowledges the fact I’ve washed my hair, when she enters the bathroom. I try not to think about the fact she wants to take me out, as I finish up in the shower. She hands me a towel and I wrap it around me. She has a smaller one in her hand and starts to dry off my hair. Alex would have done the same thing for me. No, I need to lose that thought. I can’t think about him today, because I don’t want to cry again.
We go into the bedroom, and Kirsty starts to dry and style my hair. I use the word style loosely, because, it seems as lifeless as me at the moment. As soon as my hair is done, she puts my face cream on me, then it’s my body lotion. So she really does mean business today. She rummages around my wardrobe pulling out clothes, but all the ones she picks no longer fit because of my growing bump. I take a pair of leggings and a shirt.
“They’ll do I suppose and a pair of flat shoes. You have enough problems today, just trying to walk, never mind in anything with a heel.”
I laugh for the first time in who knows how long. I know it’s not really that funny.
“Now that you are clean, I can sit in your company.” Bold and straight to the point as always is our Kirsty. “Let’s see what Joan has made to eat, because I for one am starving. I worked through my lunch so I could get away a bit earlier. Now I’m glad I did.”
Joan has the table set in the kitchen. She smiles as I sit down. I guess I look much better than I have done the last few days. Joan has made macaroni and cheese and chips along with garlic bread; well Kirsty’s only request was fattening.
“Libby, what can I get you to drink?”
“Milk please.”
“Kirsty?”
“I’ll have milk as well. Thank you.”
Kirsty and I eat in silence. I can see Joan watching me. I can only surmise she is glad to see me finally eating something a bit more substantial. I’m sure she will get Murphy to report back to my parents.
“So where is it we’re going?” I ask Kirsty.
“I’ve made an appointment at a hairdresser’s, around the corner. Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I can hear the sarcasm in my own voice.
“Like I’m the bad guy. Even with it washed, it still needs a cut, but that’s no surprise. You’ve been a little pre-occupied recently with one thing or another. I know it’s not your usual hairdresser, but they do have a good reputation and it’s only a short walk. Some fresh air will do you good.” I stare at her and nod. “And if this was me, you would do the same, and you know you would. So get eating a bit more then we can go.”
She is right, of course I would do the same for her she’s my best friend, and there’s nothing we both wouldn’t do for the other.
The walk to the hairdressers isn’t too bad, although my pace is a lot slower. Kirsty doesn’t try to rush me or complain.
“So Elizabeth, what are you getting done?” Kirsty asks when I’m seated in the chair.
“I don’t know, think I may go a little shorter.”
“If you’re being daring, how about a few lighter highlights as well.”
“Go for it.”
I tell the stylist what I’m looking for lengthwise and let her do what she wants with the colour. She tells me nothing too dramatic, a few highlights, just like Kirsty suggested. Kirsty sits in a chair beside me, and we talk about everything, but Alex. A topic she knows to steer clear of, especially seeing as she’s going to a lot of trouble to try and make me feel better.
“Well, what do you think?” the stylist asks me.
“I love it.” This is the shortest my hair has been, it’s now a beautiful shoulder-length layered and with lighter tones through it.
“It suits you,” Kirsty says, admiring it. “Now it’s a shame you’re in no fit state for a night on the tiles.”
“Kirsty!”
“I know, it’s fine. We can grab some popcorn and chocolate at the shop, before heading to yours and watch some crappy TV or a movie—your choice. Come on, time to go.” Kirsty pays for my hair, insisting it’s her treat.
We walk back round to the flat, arm in arm. I feel better. My mood has been lifted, thanks to my best friend for just being herself. We do stop at a shop, for popcorn, chocolate and fizzy juice. Not things I usually have at home.
“So what time are you staying with me until?” I ask Kirsty once we are both settled on the couch.
“I’m meant to be meeting Michael at the club later. But I can change plans, he will understand.”
“No don’t change them. In a few hours I’ll be sleeping and you would have wasted your night.” I tease. “I presume he’s spending the night at yours then?”
“Yeah, but it took some convincing on my part to get him to stay. He didn’t want you to be on your own.”
“Kirsty, I’m not on my own. I have Joan and Murphy both here. Well, for tonight I do.”
“Michael will be here tomorrow I know that for sure, when they both leave.”
“Murphy is leaving but Joan is staying here. I heard her talk to Murphy the other night. She doesn’t think I’m ready to be left alone either. I know I need to sort myself out; I can’t be the reason to keep Murphy and Joan separated. I will go back to work in a few days, hopefully that will help. Routine.”
“What about your ante-natal appointment, would you like me to come with you?” she asks.
“Yes. If you could. I’m not ready to do that on my own.”
“You don’t have to. Now no more serious stuff, lets watch some TV.”
Kirsty leaves at eleven pm, after a fun-filled night of watching the comedy channel. She knows how to distract me from all my thoughts and fears. But now that I’m alone again, they all come creeping back to the forefront of my mind. I do feel tired and for the third night in a row, I don’t want to take the stairs to my bedroom, because that would mean sleeping in my bed alone and I’m not ready for that yet, either
“LIBBY, LIBBY.”
The voice sounds so real. He could be so close. His smile is so wide and it’s the one he wears only for me. I can’t open my eyes because I know, when I do, his voice will be gone again and my life plunged back into darkness. And just now I will take anything that will keep me close to him, even a dream.
“Libby, please baby. I need to see you.”
I open my eyes slowly, knowing it’s not him. My dreams are playing tricks with me. This must be a hallucination. I scream as a hand reaches toward me. The bruising on his face is the same as I remember. The cut under his eye still looks bad, even after all this time. “You can’t be real. Leave me alone.” I cry pulling myself into a ball.
“Mr. Mathews, step away.” Joan’s voice startles me.
“Joan. Please, I only want to see my wife.”
His words grab my attention. He is really kneeling down in front of me. Why is he here? Hasn’t he caused me enough pain with his cruel words? Joan is back at my side, comforting me. “Mr. Mathews, why are you here? You can’t undo the damage you’ve caused, if that’s why you’re here. You shouldn’t have come here.”
“Joan, for the love of God, will you shut up. I remember. I remember everything.”
“Please tell me you mean that, and you've not just said that because you think it’s what I need to hear,” I say, wiping tears from my face.
Joan leaves us alone, but again doesn't go far. I hear the kettle on in the kitchen. I get the feeling I might need something stronger than tea to get me through this. It’s only now that I notice it is daylight outside; at least I did manage to get some sleep during the night.
“Can I sit down?” he asks me. I point to the other end of the couch. I don’t want him that close to me; I’m scared I will do something I regret. His dark brown eyes look tired as they stay focused on me. “Libby, please, we need to talk. I remember everything.”
“So, do you really remember, or was it your parents or Michael that sent you here?”
“No, baby. I remember, I truly do. But I think I have Michael to thank for my memory returning.
I can’t believe I’ve hurt the one person in the world that I love. The one person I made promises to. I’m so sorry.” I want to believe his words, but I’m not sure I can. When I left the hospital, I had vowed that would be the last time I saw him. It broke me.
I stand on shaky legs and walk slowly to the windows. It’s sunny outside and the sky is blue, and it’s a welcome change to the dull and dreary weather we’ve had for the last week. I feel him approach, but he doesn't touch me.
“Libby, I remember everything. I remember what should’ve been our first kiss by the banks of the loch. How perfect you looked standing in front of me. I remember our first time in here. I remember standing in our bedroom upstairs with you in my arms as you gazed out the window. I remember my teasing words.” He reaches out to me now and doesn't hesitate in wrapping his arms around my waist and letting them rest on my belly. “But most importantly, I remember how much I love you and our babies.”
His words make me dizzy. I stumble as I try to turn in his arms. He scoops me in his arms, even though he probably shouldn’t be doing that with his injuries, as he carries me to the couch.
“Joan,” he calls. “If you’ve made tea, Libby could use it just now.”
HE PUTS ME DOWN ON the couch and sits close beside me, wrapping his arms around me. This is the touch I’ve missed. What I’ve longed for.
“I’ve missed you so much. I thought I, we would never have you . . .”I whisper as my tears fall, uncontrollably. My body starts to shake.
“No, Libby no, I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through this nightmare.” He lifts me gently until he has me sitting in his lap. One hand rests on my bump while the other holds me close toward him. I rest my head against him and breathe him in. He smells how he should, of himself, not that bloody hospital. He kisses the side of my face repeatedly in an attempt to calm me down.
I’m torn in two; I want to lash out at him because of the pain he’s caused me, but I know I can’t because of his injuries. But deep down I know it’s not his fault the pain I was in. Part of me thinks he shouldn’t be out of hospital yet. Then there’s a part of me that is melting just from his touch. We should talk, this I know. But as I sit on his lap, my head against his chest, I know I am where I want and need to be.
Joan comes through with two cups and leaves them on the table. She smiles warmly before leaving us alone.
“What happened to your hair?”
“Kirsty. She made me move yesterday, put me in a shower and took me out.”
“Why?”
“Because when I left the hospital the other day, I’ve not done anything except stay on this couch. When Kirsty got here, she told me straight that I needed to wash and eat. So after she took care of one, and Joan took care of the other, she took me for a haircut. Don’t you like it?” I ask knowing fine well he doesn’t.
“I like the colour, but I prefer it longer,” he says dryly running his fingers through my hair. “Anything else you’ve decided to change, that I should know about?”
“Don’t you dare, Alexander Mathews. I’ve been to Hell and back several times over these last few weeks. First there was the accident, and I stayed with you in the hospital the whole time. Not knowing if you were going to live or die. Then when you did come around, I had to deal with the whole memory loss. You didn’t know me or want me near you. So I spent my time working at the hotel during the day, then sitting by your bed during the night watching you sleep. I also worked myself into such a state, that when you did come round, I took unwell in hospital and had to be admitted so the doctors could keep a close eye on my blood pressure.”
“So, while my husband was busy flirting with the nurses, I was lying in a bed in another part of the hospital. And do you know who was there for me? Not you.”
“Libby, I didn’t mean . . .”
“Maybe you didn’t, but your tone was off with me. And I’ve done nothing wrong to have you use a tone like that with me.” It’s true, what the hell did he think I would change in a few short weeks. I’ve worked so hard just trying to keep myself busy. I’ve worked on auto-pilot.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it. I don’t know what to say to you to make the situation better.” He turns his face away from me, in obvious pain and deep in thought. “Are you and the babies alright?”
“Yes, although the consultant wants to see me on a more regular basis. Michael has been keeping an eye on me as well. Both he and Kirsty came to my hospital appointments. ”
“Yeah, I gathered that from our heated conversation this morning.” He sighs. “Libby, I’m sorry you had to witness my behaviour and I’m sorry I pushed you away, when all you were doing was trying to care for me. I don’t know what else say.”
“Alex, I understand. I really do, but I can’t lie, because it hurt like hell. And I’m glad it was only Michael that was with me, because I would have hated it to be your parents or mine. If it were mine, I don’t think Dad could have held back. Injuries or not.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t blame him. And Michael didn’t hold back today. He cares about you.”
I hope he’s not reading more into this with that statement. We’re friends and only ever could be friends. “Alex . . .”
“No, I understand. And no I don’t think anything is going on with the two of you. If the roles were reversed, I would’ve done the same as Michael.”
“Can we talk more later, I’m exhausted and struggling to take all this in, and you must be in a bit of pain with me sitting here.”
“I’m more than happy to sit here with you, but I am a little sore,” he says nodding. “How about we have something to eat, then go for a sleep together.”
“Okay.”
I swear Joan has super-strength hearing. She has already started gathering food from the fridge when we enter. Alex pulls out a chair at the table for me. As I sit down, his hand touches my face briefly; I close my eyes for a second. The air between us is charged, drawing us back together where we belong, although I get the impression neither of us wants to act on it. He chooses to sit opposite me, instead of his usual place of beside me. Why would he do that? If he really remembers everything, he would know we both need the closeness of being beside each other.
Alex makes small talk with Joan, and from her replies to him, I’m not the only one struggling with recent events. There is an awkward silence hanging in the air between Alex and me as Joan cooks. I notice my phone sitting on the table flashing. Picking it up, I notice several calls and messages from Michael. I check the texts first.
Libby I need to speak with you.
I wanted to warn you Alex is on his way to you.
I will now try the landline.
Well at least he was trying to warn me.
“So, what did Michael say that made you remember?” I ask curiously.
“I’ll tell you later,” he tells me as Joan puts down some pancakes in front of us both. Obviously this is information he doesn't want Joan to hear.
I start eating straight away much to Joan’s surprise. His gaze is burning through me, I can feel it. Glancing up I catch him and our eyes lock. And in this moment I stare at my handsome husband opposite me, and I understand why he took that seat.
Not going to cry. Honest, I’m not. I tell myself over and over. My beautiful man looks at me as though he hasn’t seen me in weeks. Ready to devour me, to pounce on me at the first chance he gets. But he’s reining it in, controlling, although given the looks he’s giving me, I’m not sure I want him to keep it under control. I want him; that hasn’t changed in the last few weeks. But I am unsure if it would be a wise thing to do under the circumstances, we still need to talk. I want to know what Michael said to him.
“Are you going to finish that?” he asks.
“No, what I ate is a big improvement of late.”
He stands and walks the short distance to me and holds out his hand. “Come on then, I want to lie and fall asleep with you in my arms.”
I take his hand that is offered and we walk to our
bedroom. We stop in the middle of the room. My chest stills as he turns me in his arm. I’m suddenly afraid. Not afraid of Alex, but afraid that I won’t be able to work out the issues I have going on in my head.
“Libby, everything will be fine,” Alex says, resting his chin on my shoulder and wrapping his arms back around me. “I’m here with you, where I belong. We will work this out. I love you.”
“I love you too, that hasn't changed. But I am struggling.” Why am I feeling so shitty? My husband remembers everything, all our life together so why can’t I just be happy and content with that? I know everything he said to me when he lost his memory shouldn’t make a difference with us now. But it has. It’s turned my world upside down. Silly I know, but the more I try to rationalise it all, the more upset I get with it all.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks me. Suddenly I feel awful.
“Have you ever had to ask that question before?”
“Not since the first day we met. But I get you’re hurt and probably still upset with me. But I’ve been fighting the urge to kiss you since I saw you sleeping on the couch. So peaceful, and it brought it home to me, the last time I saw you was the morning of the accident. You were sleeping and I kissed your forehead before I left for work. So forgive me and let me show you how much you mean to me.”
“I love you and want you. There is nothing for me to forgive . . .” I don’t get a chance to finish my sentence before his lips are on mine. It’s tender and loving and leaves me breathless. His lips are soft against mine, but taste exactly how I remember. He pulls away and rests his forehead against mine. God, I’ve bloody missed him these last few weeks.
“Sorry. I’m sorry . . .” This time I don’t let him finish as I grab his face in my hands and pull him back toward me. Kissing him hard, taking him by surprise. His lips move in time with mine, back where they belong and it feels so damn perfect.
He's Captured My Soul (Captured Series Book 3) Page 30
