Chapter 80
Jamie
“Good morning, Doc.”
I heard him running, practically jumping out of bed.
“Oh, good morning.”
I turn around and see his tired, beautiful face.
“Were you afraid I’d left?”
“No, what are you saying…” He tries to lie but can’t. “Okay, I didn’t find you in bed and…”
“I don’t sleep much.”
“Nightmares?” His voice is discreet.
I nod.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not now.”
“Okay.”
“One day.”
“You can talk to me whenever you want. I’m always ready to listen.”
“I know. Do you want some coffee?”
“Did you make coffee?”
“If you’d given me time, I would have made breakfast too. I wanted to thank you for your hospitality.”
“You’re not a guest; this is your home.”
I try to hide my emotions, but it’s hard now. Martin knows how to hit you in the right place.
“Come on, I’ll do it,” he offers.
“What can I do?”
“You can sit and watch me.”
“I like this, although I prefer you with your arse out.”
Martin opens the fridge and takes out the eggs and bacon. I sit at the kitchen table, resting my feet on a chair, and watch him make breakfast, sipping his coffee now and then.
It all feels so natural, familiar, and beautiful. I almost kept myself from this. I almost stayed hidden away, in the dark, while outside there is so much light, so much life, so many possibilities.
“I have to go to work later,” he says. He turns around and takes the plates to the table, but when he realises I am already sitting there, he shrugs, sets the plate on my lap, and sits down next to me, mirroring my position.
He’s already changing his habits for me, and he doesn’t even ask why. He doesn’t question us, doesn’t ask for certainty, and never puts pressure on me.
“I don’t want to go, but I don’t think I’ll be able to find anyone to cover for me.”
“You don’t have to stay here for my sake. I’m a big boy; I can take care of myself.”
“I know.”
“I could stop by later, if you want.”
“And become the gossip of the day? Absolutely.”
I laugh. “Are you really ready to share your fantasies with everyone?”
His tone shifts, his gaze turning intense. “You’re not a fantasy anymore,” he says softly. He reaches for my hand. “You’re here with me. You’re real.”
“I am.”
He sighs and looks back down at his plate.
“You were my fantasy,” I confess.
“What?” He turns back to me.
“When I first saw you… It was at the hospital. Jamie had just been born.”
“I didn’t see you that day.”
“I was there. I was following this lad…”
“Who?”
“A doctor. I followed him around, studied his movements, the way he pushed his hair back, how he addressed people, how he wrote on his chart with those perfect fingers. How he smiled. How he spoke. I was fascinated, almost obsessed.”
Martin watches me carefully.
“Then I followed him out of a room. My sister’s room. It was you, Dr Kane.”
He blushes violently.
“When I realised who you were, I backed off. Then I saw you at the stadium, at Nick’s first game, and then again and again.
” I shake my head, my voice trembling. “I listened to you talk about your son, watched the way your eyes lit up when you looked at him, heard the pride in every word. You were a man, a father, a doctor, someone real. And the more I saw you, the more I ached to have you for myself.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. It’s embarrassing.”
“No, it’s sweet, although I suspect your intentions were not entirely noble.”
“They were not at all.”
“I didn’t think I could impress the Captain.”
“And yet you did, without even knowing it. Without looking for it. And I…”
He sets his plate on the table, stands up, takes mine and places it beside his own.
“Thank you for telling me.”
I shrug.
“And thank you for staying with me. Thank you for letting me in, and thank you for trusting me.”
I try to lighten the moment, feeling my face grow warm. “You really like saying thank you, don’t you?”
“And I like saying I love you a lot.”
“I want your love, Dr Martin. I don’t intend to lose a single drop of it.”