Chapter 10 #2
I listened as he ordered sandwiches from room service—the same type I typically had brought in whenever we had to stay late at the office.
Which reminded me …
“I wonder if we should call it a night after the sandwiches,” I said when he settled back down on the couch beside me. “I have to be up early, you know. I’ve got a 4:00 A.M. stand up with my boss.”
“I tell you what,” he said, grabbing the remote off the coffee table. “Even though tomorrow’s technically a Tuesday, why don’t we designate it a lazy Sunday? Beg off work and spend one more day here.”
My eyes widened because in the three years I’d been working for him, Iain Scotswolf hadn’t taken so much as a single vacation or sick day outside of his Highland retreats. “Are you serious?”
“Aye, very serious,” he answered with a sideways grin. He clicked on the T.V. “I’d like to spend more time with you in an upright position if you don’t mind.”
“No, I don’t mind,” I answered, trying to sound casual because there was no reason for me to feel so shy with him—especially when you considered everything we’d done over the last four days.
“There’s no need to feel shy with me,” he said, once again seeming to read my mind.
“You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about.
If anything, I’m the one who should be embarrassed given the complete lack of control I’ve displayed during our time together.
Letting you go unkissed for so long because I was so verrae hot to knot inside you. ”
His words and the memories he brought forth heated my skin. He also brought up a question.
“Speaking of—what did you call that thing that happens when you’re inside me? A knot? I noticed it didn’t happen this last time on the couch.”
A throaty chuckle. “Ah. That only happens on occasion. A verrae special occasion. In our case, nearly four days of verrae special occasion.”
I inwardly shook my head. Why was it every time I asked him a question, his answers only made me more confused?
“I’m sorry I haven’t given you better answers, chridhe,” he said, once again seeming to address my unspoken words. “But trust me, Millicent. I’ll give all your questions a proper reply after your month is up.”
With that unusual promise, Iain started flipping through the channels until he found one of the Lord of the Rings movies on ITV2. “This all right? Filmed in New Zealand.”
“Yeah, sure,” I replied, wondering if he’d guessed like he guessed so many things this weekend, that this was one of my favorite movies.
If he had, he didn’t say anything about it. Just settled an arm around my shoulder as we snuggled up to watch the film together. Like a real couple, I couldn’t help but think.
This was nice, I thought, laying my head on his chest. And potentially addictive.
No wonder Tara seemed perfectly satisfied with her purely “hanging out” relationship with Brian.
I got so caught up in watching the movie from underneath Iain’s arm that I very nearly forgot why I’d missed out on the experiences most other women my age took for granted.
But waking up to a call from the Edinburgh Cancer Care Centre the next morning brought it all back to me. I took the call, picking up the phone from where I’d left it to charge the night before, and kept my voice low as I talked to the nurse.
“Who was that?” Iain’s gruff voice asked behind me after I hung up.
I looked over my shoulder and found him, wide awake and sitting up in bed.
“The nurse from my oncologist’s office,” I answered. “Dr. Keller wants to see me right away to talk about my latest blood work and, um … run some more tests.”
I kept my explanation simple. Telling him the truth without telling him much at all. That more tests mean something was wrong. Which in turn meant I probably would have less time than originally forecasted.
“Right,” he said, getting out of bed like a man on a mission. “You take a shower. I’ll go ‘round to the hotel shops downstairs to pick up some clothes for you.”
“Iain…” I started to say.
“No time for arguments, Millicent.” He was doing that thing again. All business, no eye contact as he headed out the bedroom door. “Just do as I say.”
I watched him leave, the door softly clicking closed behind him. Then I rubbed at the spot on the back of my neck. The one he’d massaged so often with his thumb over the last four days.
But not today. The holiday had well and truly ended. And by the time he left without saying goodbye, the past four days already seemed like a dream I’d had. An amazing dream, but one that was now over. Meaning it was time to return to my real life.
I did as he’d instructed. Took my shower. But I stopped suddenly when my reflection in the bathroom mirror caught my eye. My hair … there was no other way to describe it but radiant.
The unmanageable, frizzy nest was gone. In its place were luscious curls that fell just to my shoulders, gently framing my oval face. And my skin … forget Scottish beige. It was now a warm honey brown and appeared to be glowing with good health.
Happy. The foreign word floated into my consciousness. I looked like a happy, healthy young woman.
But I wasn’t that. Like, at all.
My image in the mirror felt like a punch to the chest and left an ache that lingered even after I turned away.
I wished as I’d never wished before that I hadn’t gotten that call this morning. That I could stay longer with Iain. Enjoy a day of simply hanging out and getting to know each other like he’d proposed.
But when had this disease ever given a damn about what I wanted?
So yeah, I was pretty much resigned to how the rest of my day would go when I came out of the bathroom. And zero percent surprised when I saw a bag from Superdry on the bed, but no Iain.
He’d probably left for the office. Now that I was Leukemia Girl again, he could go back to being Iain Scotswolf, king of the post-coital bounce. Why not?
But then I walked into the living room … and he was there, standing by the front door in what looked like a pair of new jeans and a gray Henley he must have purchased at the same Superdry store where he picked up the wrap dress I currently wore.
“The valet is bringing round my car,” he told me. “Do you want to stop by your place to pick up your lucky yellow cardigan before we head to the doctor?”
I shook my head. “It’s not lucky anymore, remember?”
His expression sobered, “I reckon not.”
“You … you don’t have to come with me,” I said into the awkward silence that followed. “I mean, feel free to just drop me off at the clinic, and I’ll catch the train to work.”
“Not come with you …?” Iain reached out to me, enveloping my slender hand in his much larger one. “That’s not an option, Millicent.”
“But ...”
“It’s not an option.”