She is a sight for sore eyes. I pull the chair close and stroke her face. For a while she sleeps, but then she starts to come out of it, mumbling and drifting in and out. Then finally, she opens her eyes.
“Hi,” she croaks.
“Hi,” I whisper, holding her hand. I feel less tense immediately. I know it’s irrational, of course she was going to be okay.
Before long she is sitting up, talking to her mom and Connie on the phone. Max brings us both sandwiches, fruit, coffees and sodas, which we both need badly and we eat greedily. He hangs with us for a while, but has to go back to work.
Then at 4:00 pm, when Liv is starting to get really restless, the surgeon does his rounds.
“Well, everything looks great,” he says with a little too much delight. “You have healed nicely, so I’m happy to hand you over to the physio team for the rest of your care. Someone will come and see you shortly and then we’ll get you off home. You need to wear the bandage for a couple of days and then see the nurse at your GP’s to have the stitches taken out.’
“Okay,” Liv says. “And when will I be able to put weight on it?”
“Now, today.” He smiles. “I want you walking on it before you go home. Physio with go through the exercises you need to do, but from now on, you are working towards getting back to normal.”
“Wow, okay,” she says, wide-eyed.
“But I doubt you’ll be wearing heels anytime soon,” he adds.
I scoff and Liv laughs too. “Not really a problem for me,” she says. “I’m not a heels girl.”
“Oh, I see. Well, you are my ideal patient, in that case.” He chuckles.
“When do you think I can get back to work?” she asks, casually, although I know this is her burning question.
“It depends how demanding your job is.”
“As demanding as it gets,” she replies.
“Oh of course, the bar and restaurant. I want you to take another two weeks off and then ease back into it. I think you will find it difficult to begin with, but stick to the physio and take it slowly. If it aches, rest, if it swells, rest. Keep up with the ice. It’s a slow process, but I’m confident that you will be back to normal before you know it.”
“Thank you.” She sounds optimistic about things.
The surgeon leaves us and is soon replaced by the physiotherapist, who gets Liv straight out of bed and on her feet, both of them! They go for a walk in the halls and test out Liv’s abilities on the stairs. Then she runs through some sets of exercises for her to repeat several times a day. I try to take in as much as I can, because I know Liv is overwhelmed by it all and I don’t want her to miss anything.
“Oh my God!” she whispers as the therapist leaves to finish Liv’s discharge notes. “I can’t believe I’m allowed to walk on it this soon.” She’s grinning ear to ear. “I thought it would take ages!”
“You did so well. Did it hurt?”
“Not really. It’s weird though.” She laughs.
Once Liv is dressed, I hand her the soft canvas shoes she hoped she could fit on to wear home.
“I thought I’d be all swollen again, these are okay.” She slips the shoe over the gauze that holds her dressing in place then fixes her crutches ready to leave.
I pick up her notes and bag. “Let’s go home,” I say with relief. It’s still a long road, but we are done with this place.”
We thank the staff as we leave and Liv smiles as we slowly make our way out to the parking lot.
“I feel like I should do something,” she says as we cross the road.
“Something?”
“Yeah, something to celebrate.”
“Liv, you have been out cold most of the day, I need to get you home to bed and take care of you.”
She looks at me and smiles. “That’ll do nicely,” she says with a wink.
As promised an hour later she is all tucked up watching a movie with dinner from downstairs across her lap. We both are. I managed to sneak her in the back way and get her in bed before I went down to get us some food and tell Max she was home safe. I don’t know why it seemed so important to have her to myself tonight, but I didn’t even tell anyone that she can walk on her foot now. I just wanted it to be us and I knew Max would want to see her after such exciting news. I know it’s selfish, but this feels like the last night she will really need me and suddenly I feel insecure about where that will leave me tomorrow.
“Stop it!” she suddenly exclaims.
“Huh? What?”
“Stop with the negative thoughts and the moping around and stuff. I still need you to look after me.”
I frown, but I can feel my lips curling into a smile. How does she do that? “Stop with the reading my mind and stuff,” I retort.
“I can see what you're thinking and I think it’s silly that’s all.” She huffs. “You should be glad I’m nearly better.”
“Oh my God, Liv, I am! That’s not it. I just…I just, I’ve liked you needing me.” I sigh. “You are so God damned independent that it’s hard to feel indispensable sometimes, that’s all. I don’t want you be hurt or incapable, but taking care of you, well it’s been nice for me…you know?”
“It’s been nice for me too. But it isn’t over, I still need you.” She smiles softly trying to make me feel better.
“I know. I’m just worried about losing some of this.” I say, gesturing to our feast in bed at 7 pm. “Soon, you’ll be back at work and I’ll be home alone.”
Liv shakes her head. “That won’t happen. I want this now.”
“I know how badly you want to get back to it and I don’t want to stop you.” I interrupt. “I don’t want you to change for me.”
“I’ve changed because of you, not for you. My old life was what I needed, but now I need us. I couldn’t go on forever working like that. The new staff aren’t just for cover, they are permanent. I’m going to work like a normal person when I go back. There will be some nights, but you’ll know where I am if you want to join me,” she says with a shy smile. “Do you think you’ll still want to work in the bar from time to time?”
“I feel like I’m part of this place now. I was trying to fill in for you, I just thought you wouldn’t need me once you’re back.”
“I’ll always need you,” she says. “What you’ve done has meant the world to me and I want you to be part of it. I know you have your work, but this place is my world and you share it with me now.”
I wrap my arms around her, ignoring the sound of plates clinking on top of our bed covers. “I love you,” I whisper. I hold her tight to my chest.
I still need to hold her in the shower, but she can at least balance herself better now. I won’t readily give up our morning ritual even when she can do it herself. I love the fact that I get to see her this way every day. It’s nice to be back here again, now that she’s had her stitches removed.
“Danny, I can feel that,” she says, indignant, although I can hear the smile in her voice.
“I can’t help it,,” I reply, kissing her neck and pushing my erection against her again. “You do this to me. I’m trying to be good…but now you’re just teasing me, rubbing back and forth.”
“You are insatiable! I’m just washing.”
“You know what you’re doing.” I laugh, turning her around and hitching up her leg, so that she is still standing on her good foot. She gives me an innocent look, so I push her back against the wall. She gasps at the cold tiles against her back, but I give her no time to think as I push myself into her, hard.
“Oh God!” she moans.
She knew what she was doing, she is so wet. So I give her what she so obviously wanted. I have her lifted slightly so that her foot is only just on the floor as I slam into her. Her arms wrap around my neck and her fingers grasp my hair as she desperately tries to gain some leverage, but I stay in control and don’t let up for a second. This is going to be really fast.
I’m aware of my own moans mingled with hers as our mouths fight to connect
, but I’m going too hard to keep her lips on mine for long. The water rushes between us, heating us up as I struggle to hold back.
Liv’s cries are increasing, she is pushing away from the wall to meet me, grinding as she does. I feel like I can’t fight it any longer, so when she says, “That’s it, fuck me,” through gritted teeth, I immediately start to come. I cry out and thrust through the intense orgasm, as hard as I can, wanting to take her all the way too. She digs her nails into my back and moans, then I feel it. That welcome grasping of her insides as they come crashing in around me. We moan and pant, I don’t think we’ve ever been so loud.
I laugh, capturing her lips and kissing her deeply. I slowly withdraw and lower her foot back to the floor; I love the fact that I still can’t let her go. I never want to let her go. I hold her close and feel her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“You okay?”
She exhales a shuddery breath. “I’m fucked!” She laughs.
Chapter Seventeen
Liv
You should really have a bath.
“You know, I was thinking,” Danny says from the doorway of the bathroom as I pull on my jeans in the bedroom. “You should really have a bath.”
I sniff my armpit sarcastically. “I just had a shower, what are you saying?” I laugh.
Danny laughs too, wrapping his arms around the bare skin across my stomach. “I mean, we should have a bath, not just a shower.” He pauses, I notice a faraway look in his eyes. “You’ve really needed one all this time you were getting better.” He frowns, like he has somehow failed me, by not providing me with this essential thing during my recovery. A recovery, he was forcibly absent for much of. The thought of our break-up still puts a dark cloud over me and I fight to shake it off before he notices.
“I assume a bath wouldn’t fit, that’s why Connie never put one in.” I shrug. “I’m used to it.”
Danny glances back at the bathroom. “Would you let me look into it?” he asks. He seems twitchy about something, I can’t see why having a bath is suddenly all important. But I do like the idea of him putting some of himself into the flat. More and more it’s becoming ‘our’ home, so if he wants a bath, I wouldn’t dream of stopping him. A smile plays on his lips for a second and then his attention comes back to me, waiting for an answer.
“Sure.” I shrug again. “If you think it can be done, I would love to soak in a bath with you.” I twist in his arms and sigh with pleasure as his lips play on my neck.
Danny looks happy when I see him at his laptop in the garden later, content is probably a better description and he should be. I’ve come on nicely in the few weeks since I had the screw removed and things have settled down generally. He doesn’t seem to have any regrets about moving here and while I know he misses Jen especially, he is making a special effort to stay in touch and he’s really close to some of his new friends here. I occasionally marvel at how normal life is recently. After all the ups and downs of the last few months, it has taken no time at all for us to find a rhythm that suits us. We are better than ever now that we both know what went through the other’s heads all those years ago. I know for sure now that he did love me as much as I loved him and the value of knowing that is immense, almost worth the heartbreak and all those years apart. Without it we wouldn’t have what we have now.
I instinctively thumb across my ring. Looking at it, I smile. I have him, this is all I need in life. Well, almost. Before this all started to go wrong, he wanted to start a family. I wonder where he stands on that now? It’s as if he never said it. Maybe so much has happened that he has reconsidered? My stomach tightens. I guess I’m not okay with that possibility. I just don’t want to disrupt anything by bringing it up. I know that he wants to be with me forever, but as far as his thoughts on babies...and marriage, which I can hardly even dare to think about…I’m clueless.
I shake my head. I should be happy with what I have, God knows it was hard won. I turn back inside and force myself to get back to work. We will talk about it when he’s ready, I shouldn’t push things. I potter in the kitchen, humming along to the radio. This is okay. A happy, quiet life.
Danny makes me jump, slipping his arm around my waist and pressing his lips to the back of my neck. “I’ve to go out,” he murmurs against my skin.
“Okay,” I reply, sighing into his warmth. Then he withdraws quickly and I sag with disappointment.
“I won’t be long,” he says as he hurries away.
I wonder why he looks so pleased with himself.
A couple of hours later he’s back carrying bags from the supermarket. He holds them up for me to see, so that I understand he’s cooking me dinner and I smile. ‘Seven,’ he mouths to me as I hand some change to my customer. I smile and nod, then he disappears up to the flat.
I waste no time following him up there when the evening staff arrive at six and the aroma of garlic finds me halfway up the stairs. I find Danny in the kitchen listening to music and cooking as he so often is these days. We eat downstairs during the day, but in the evenings now, more often than not he cooks. Sometimes I beat him to it, but he loves it and I’ve no complaints. I know before I peer over his shoulder that we are having his legendary spaghetti and meatballs and as he turns to kiss me I notice the bottle of wine open beside him. I smirk, he is either trying to get me drunk, or force us to be more grown up so that we don’t embarrass ourselves in restaurants.
“It smells yummy.”
“Like you.” He grins, wrapping his arms around me.
“Me? I smell like stale coffee. I’m going to have a shower before dinner,” I say, stepping away.
“I’ll be right there,” he says, turning down the stove.
“I think I can manage.” I reply without thinking, I’m doing fine now, so a shower shouldn’t be that unmanageable. His face falls, like he is thinking the time has finally come that I don’t need him anymore, just like he said it would. My heart melts for him. “But I don’t want to chance it, are you sure you don’t mind?”
His spirits lift straight away and he follows me into the bathroom.
“You can wipe that glum expression off your face. I still need you,” I tease as he helps me step into the shower. “And even if I don’t, I WANT you, which should count for more.”
“I know,” he sighs, holding me tight under the stream of water.
When I come out of the bedroom all dressed in my favourite chilling clothes, my black trackies and Danny’s Guns ’n’ Roses t-shirt, Danny is setting the table wearing only his grey sweats. I stop dead and watch him leaning across the table. Oh. My. God! I don’t know what makes me weakest, the tattoos, the abs, his golden skin, the way his trousers hang low on his hips…it all does me in. Those grey sweats are such a turn on, he knows that. In fact I think he puts them on to guarantee he gets lucky. Although it’s me that’s lucky and I’m lucky pretty much every day!
I approach him quietly and when he stands up straight, he presses into me. He tenses for a split second, surprised that I’m behind him, but he instantly relaxes as I run my fingers around his sides and over his abs. I kiss his bare shoulder then run my tongue up his neck to the place behind his ear that always makes him shiver. I smile when a sigh accompanies the ripple from his skin and he tilts his head, willing me to continue. So I spend some time on that sweet spot he loves.
“Was it the pants again?” he breathes.
“It’s everything.” I sigh against his skin.
He twists in my embrace and catches my face in his hands, staring into my eyes. “I love everything about you too.” He grins and then kisses me tenderly, leaving me grateful he is holding me up.
“I want you,” I whisper.
He laughs. “You can have me later. It’s dinner time,” he says and smacks my bum as he goes back into the kitchen, picking up his t-shirt from the back of the chair and slipping it over his head as he goes.
I slump. “How do you have so much self-restraint?”
“I just know you’re wort
h the wait,” he calls.
I shake my head, following him to collect the wine and some glasses.
Danny turns to face me holding our steaming bowls of pasta and stops.
“What?” I say.
He shakes his head. “Nothing.” He heads to the table.
“No, what?”
As soon as he’s put our food down he turns to face me, catching both my wrists in his hands. He holds them tight and leans forward until our faces are almost touching, holding my gaze for a moment before leaning in to kiss me. I inhale through my nose as the kiss deepens and sigh when he pulls away.
“Did you realise, you haven’t used your crutches since you have been home?” he says.
I look at my feet, conscious, because I know he’s really insecure about me not needing his help anymore. I actually feel guilty and have to stop myself apologising. When I look back up at him, he takes the wine out of my left hand and the glasses out of my right. “You’re getting better, at last.”
I nod. But he frowns. “You don’t seem pleased.”
“I am.” I sigh, sitting down.
“But?”
“But, I know you’re worried about it.”
“Liv! I’m not worried about it!” He shakes his head. “Is that what you think? That I don’t want you to get better?”
“No, I…” I don’t really know what to say, because that is what I think.
“I’m so sorry if I gave you that impression. I want you better more than anything. I just enjoy showering with you and it has been nice being needed. But there is so much I want to do that I need you better for, please don’t think for a second that I would wish you a slow recovery.” He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“I’ve changed,” I say quietly. “I like things the way they are now, I like you doing things to help me. I won’t suddenly stop wanting any of it.”
“I hope not. But even if you do, I will still be glad you’re better.” He frowns again. “I can’t believe you would think that I wouldn’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No! It’s my fault. I obviously gave you that impression.” He curses himself.
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