Then She Roars

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Then She Roars Page 14

by Vanessa Evetts


  “Maybe you should,” she said, turning back to me.

  I nodded. “Okay, I think we’ve covered enough today. Stuart, I’ll have a chat to Sally and get her to call you with options for private sessions with my colleague.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “How about we switch back to weekly for a bit?” I asked.

  They nodded.

  “Take it slowly … restoration after this kind of thing takes time. Focus on love and what you’re fighting for. I’ll see you next week. Call Sally if anything happens and you need to see me sooner.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Stuart said as I ushered them out.

  I touched my hand between Jasmine’s shoulder blades in solidarity. She turned and whispered, “Thanks.”

  When the lift closed, I motioned to Sally to follow me into my office. I closed the door behind her, then sat down, motioning for her to follow suit.

  “Look, I know you disagree with me shutting Harry out. Heck, most of me agrees with you, but as I said to him, I can’t cope with losing what we have as well as dealing with this whole cancer thing.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  “I get it, Sal. I do. I know you’re pushing out of love, but I need it to stop.”

  Sally’s brow creased, and she bit her lip to stop herself arguing with me – I could see it a mile off.

  “I get it. I want to believe in the dream too. I want the fantasy to be my reality. I want the happily ever after with the man of my dreams, and he is. Harry is the man of my dreams who I’m madly in love with. I admit it.” I continued even when her eyes became glassy and released a steady stream of tears.

  “I know you don’t understand, Sally, and I don’t expect you to. I just need you to respect me enough to let me make my own choices, especially when it comes to Harry.”

  “I do respect you, Avery. I think you’re amazing. I just love you more, and I want to see you as happy as I know he makes you.”

  “I know.”

  “What about—”

  I interrupted her before she could finish. “Sally, please … I have another client in half an hour, and I don’t want to roar again with a waiting room full of people.”

  “Please let me finish, just this once. Please let me say this, and then I’ll shut up.”

  “You promise?” I asked.

  She nodded, but I didn’t believe it for a second. “Say your piece.”

  “What about you let him into the parts of your life that aren’t about cancer? Maybe when you’re feeling good – like this week – he could be around, and when the symptoms are bad, I do it. I can take those shifts. He could take the good, and I’ll take the bad.”

  I thought about the way it felt to have him climb into my bed at night and wrap himself around me while I was sleeping, even if it was just my mind playing tricks on me. I thought about the weekend and how amazing it would be to look into his eyes and trace my fingers over his skin or the intricate lines of his tattoo while he was sleeping naked in my bed. I seriously considered it.

  “I don’t know, Sally. The longer I drag this on, the worse it will get. I don’t want to ruin his life if I don’t find a way out of this.”

  “You’ve already ruined him, and you know it. I’ve seen the way that man looks at you, and that was before the weekend.”

  “Sally …” I protested her reason.

  “I know.” She held her hand up to stop me before I could tell her to get out and mind her own business. “I’ve thought about it a lot. My lease is coming up for renewal and I’m not a huge fan of my flat anyway. Let me move in. That way I can take care of the ugly stuff and get lost when Harry is around.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Please think about it, Avery. I want to be there for you. The doctor said you’d need someone to look after you. Who else is there? If you won’t let Harry do it, at least let me. Please, let me be there for you.”

  Who else is there? Her words were a painful blow to the heart. I stood to indicate the conversation was over. “Give me a day, okay? I’ll think about it.”

  “Okay.” She stepped towards the door, then turned back and wrapped her arms around me. “I’m always going to believe in the happy ever after for you, Avery.”

  “I know.” Gratitude wrapped me in its clutches again, and it felt good.

  28

  When the door opened and Georgia walked in with Ralph, I was shocked to see Michael walking in behind her.

  I was even more surprised when Georgia leant down to remove Ralph from his car seat and settled back on the couch with him in her arms. It felt as though the world had done a somersault. Everything that was healthy was now broken, and everything that was broken was now shiny and new.

  “You look radiant, Georgia.”

  Michael smiled.

  “I went to my GP.”

  I nodded, hoping what I saw was not a mirage that would disappear only to be replaced with the downcast eyes of a young mum struggling with depression.

  “And …?” I asked when she didn’t continue.

  “I’m taking the drugs, as well as getting out in the sun, eating properly and visiting friends, and I’m feeling much better.” She looked down at her son with adoration, and it felt like the first time. It was the way I imagined I would look at my newborn – an all-consuming love that only a parent knows. Silent tears touched my cheeks before I had the good sense to thwart them.

  Both Jasmine and Michael looked up and caught me.

  “I’m sorry.” I brushed my face with the back of my hands. “It's just, seeing you sitting there with Ralph … it’s made my day … my week … my year! You’ve no idea how beautiful it is.”

  “He is beautiful.” She tucked her finger into his tiny fist. “I can feel it now.”

  “You can?” I asked. In my head, I knew the drugs take that hazy nothingness away and give you back to yourself, but it was still hard to believe the transformation in her eyes, in the awe she now possessed, in the connection she’d forged with her child.

  Georgia lifted his face to hers and pressed a kiss to his cheek; he mewled and turned towards her, searching. I watched, amazed, as she unbuttoned the top of her blouse and offered what her baby needed – as if the last six months had never happened. He latched on and wrapped his tiny fingers around hers, and my chest ballooned with gratitude that I could bear witness to such a moment.

  “I’m so happy for you, Georgia. You have no idea.”

  “I think I do,” Michael piped up. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here.” He lifted his arm and placed it on his wife’s shoulders. “I didn’t understand … about the depression. I didn’t know it was a medical thing.”

  “Well, you’re here now, and it looks as though things are looking up for you all.”

  Georgia leant into her husband and grinned.

  “What changed your mind?” I asked. It certainly hadn’t been me.

  “I had this bossy doctor who kept telling me to stop suffering a treatable disease.”

  “I didn’t say that out loud, did I?” I asked, suddenly panicking that Sandy had more control than I realised.

  She laughed. “Not in those words. It was actually a visit to Plunket that did it. I overheard a group of mums talking about postnatal depression. It was a PIN group or something – they noticed I was listening and invited me to join in.”

  I smiled. Those groups can be downright miraculous.

  “Everyone was talking about it like it was normal. I know you’d told me that lots of women suffer from it, but up until I sat with them and listened, I didn’t believe you.”

  “So, something changed?”

  “Yeah. I went home and talked to Michael about some of the things the ladies had said, then we booked in to see the doctor.”

  “You went too?” I asked of Michael. When he nodded, I added, “Good man,” and acknowledged him with a nod. He’s not the jerkwad I’d previously thought. I was glad to be wrong.

  Georgia leant her head on his sh
oulder. “He is.”

  He bent his arm at the elbow and rustled her hair. The relaxed intimacy of it made me smile.

  The rest of the session flew by as we chatted about how life looked now and the prospect of having another child. Michael brought it up, and Georgia nodded. At first, I was shocked – Ralph wasn’t even a year old, and they’d only just discovered each other – but they waylaid my fears by saying they were just asking for when the time was right, wanting to be prepared.

  “Will this happen again?” Michael asked.

  “There’s no way of telling really, but next time you’ll know what it looks like, so you can prepare yourselves and deal with it straight away. That’s if it does reoccur, which it may not.”

  Georgia sighed and traced her fingertips over Ralph’s face.

  “You know it’s treatable now, Georgia. It won’t be like this time.”

  “I know. I just wish I could have that time back. It scares me. I want to have more children, but what if I feel the same way … what if I can’t connect?”

  “It won't be the same because of what you’ve both learned and experienced with Ralph. You know what it feels like to see him now, to love him, to crave him in your arms. You’ll recognise the difference, and now that the stigma is gone for both of you, you’ll get help a lot faster.”

  “I guess.”

  “I know,” I said. “You’re doing amazing, Georgia. I’m so proud of you.”

  “So am I,” Michael piped up from beside her. It was a perfect ending to our journey together.

  I sat on the couch when they left and breathed it in. Today made me forget. In fact, this whole week was like a dream – the calm before the storm I’d been warned was on the horizon. I wasn’t going to waste this reprieve I’d been offered.

  “Come and do lunch with me,” I said to Sally on the way out, waiting for her in the lift. I didn’t have to ask twice. Our next appointment wasn’t until 3 pm.

  “No rebook?” she asked.

  I smiled, “No, Georgia’s good. She doesn’t need me anymore.”

  Sally squeezed my hand and whispered, “I do.”

  “I need you too, flattie.”

  “Really?” She started jiggling.

  “You need to do wees?” I asked.

  “Yes, but don’t change the subject. Do you mean it? Can I move in and look after you?”

  “Don’t make me regret it,” I warned, using my finger to drive the point home.

  “Oh, I won't! I’ll be the best flatmate ever – I’ll be tidy, I’ll hold your hair back when you vomit, I’ll make food you’ll turn your nose up at, I’ll even hold you in the shower if you need me to—”

  “You’re really not selling the idea, Sal,” I interrupted.

  “I’ll disappear when you need sexy time with Harry—”

  “Sally! You lasted literally two seconds as my flatmate.”

  “Nope – no take-backs! You’re stuck with me.” She leant against the elevator wall. “Now, what’re we having for lunch?”

  Twenty minutes later, we were sunning ourselves beside the lake, our hunger satiated by Thai beef salad, when a shadow blocked my sun. A smile reached up from within … I was helpless to thwart my body’s reaction to him.

  “Hey, Prince.” I pursed my lips with expectation, while my eyes remained closed.

  “It's not the weekend,” he said, using my own words against me.

  “Who said?”

  “You. Every chance you get,” he added, pulling me to my feet. “You look good.”

  “I feel good,” I said.

  He reached his sneaky hands down my back and beyond to confirm the validity of my claim. “I agree.”

  I took control as he brushed his lips over mine and claimed what had only been offered in the secret places of my memory and imagination since the weekend.

  “My god! You two – get a room!” Sally whipped her handbag off the grass and stood up beside us. “I’m going to get coffee – you want one, Prince Charming?”

  “No thanks, Sal. I have a shift.”

  I didn’t miss the not-so-subtle camaraderie between them. “You two have got something going on, haven’t you?”

  Sally laughed. “I wish. Oh, did Sandy here tell you she has a new flatmate?”

  “She didn’t.” Harry turned back to me.

  “It’s only been about half an hour, and she’s already on thin ice,” I joked.

  He brushed the hair from my face. “I’ll have to be stealthier when I sneak in in the middle of the night.”

  “What?” I stepped back from his grasp. “What did you just say?”

  “That I’ll have to be stealthier—”

  “Oh, now you’ve done it, lover boy.” Sally backed away, shaking her head.

  “The other bit – what did you say?” I asked again.

  “What? When I sneak in in the middle of the night?” He stared at me as if I’d gone completely bonkers. Maybe I had. Maybe feeling like you’re going crazy is a side effect of the chemo.

  “What do you mean when you sneak in … you haven’t—” I started to protest, to tell him that nothing of the sort had been happening – not in real life – but Sally did it for me, bless her soul.

  “Hey, Dr Sexy,” she called out over her shoulder. “Sandy here thought she was dreaming.”

  “What?” Harry looked at me in shock. “You thought—”

  I nodded.

  “Every night?”

  I nodded again.

  “How’s that possible Avery … we—”

  “Oh, I know very well what we did,” I interrupted. “I was very satisfied with my vivid dream life,” I answered, giving the crazy a voice. Why the hell not? Someone was going to have to come to their senses and commit me.

  “So that’s why you never kicked me out,” he guessed correctly.

  I nodded, then shook my head.

  “Hot dreams, then.” He tugged me back into his arms.

  “Very.” I reached up to plant a kiss on the skin above his collar. “Why are you all dressed up?”

  “Consult, but don’t change the subject.”

  “I think we’ve already established I’m nuts.”

  “About me?”

  “That much is clear too.” I pressed my palms flat against his back, drawing him closer.

  “I don’t get it. How could you possibly have thought it wasn’t real?” He trailed his hand up my back and leant down to kiss the sensitive area on my neck just below my ear, and it all came rushing back.

  “You were always gone in the morning, and you were never there when I went to bed … well, other than the once,” I replied breathlessly. “And besides, how the hell did you get in? My house is like a fortress.”

  He smirked. “Connections.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Sally! I knew she wouldn’t back down but giving my key out to a stranger – that’s not cool.”

  Harry stepped back in silence, slid the key out of his wallet and offered it to me.

  My head told me to take it, my heart told him to keep it.

  Just let me love you. I wrapped my hands around his, trapping the key inside.

  “Are you sure?”

  I nodded. Sure, I’m going to hell.

  He tucked it away and lowered himself to the ground on our mat. “I’m sorry you haven’t seen much of me. I’ve been flat out getting ready for next week.”

  I sat down between his legs and leant back against his chest.

  He tucked his arms around my waist and pressed a kiss to my neck.

  “Next week?” My words were breathless as my body responded enthusiastically to his touch. I removed his hands from my waist in preventative action. “Harry, if you don’t stop, we’ll spend the night in a jail cell.”

  He threw his head back, filling the space between us with a laugh that turned me inside out.

  “Stop it,” I demanded.

  “Stop what, Avery?”

  “Being so irresistible.”

  “Not goin
g to happen. I have a war chest and I plan on using each and every one of those irresistible weapons on you.”

  “Heaven help me.” I shook my head.

  “Not a chance girl – heaven is on my side.”

  “You’re probably right.” I twisted around to create some distance between us.

  “You gonna kick me out tonight … now that you know I’m not in your head?”

  “I should,” I said, then I remembered what he’d said earlier. “What’s happening next week?”

  “I leave for Samoa.”

  My stomach dropped – for all my protests, those four words were the last words I wanted to hear from him.

  “For a whole month?” I asked, trying to hide my disappointment.

  “If you need me to stay, Ave, you just need to say it.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Why not? I’ll stay if you need me to.”

  “I know you would, but no, Harry.” I laid my hand on his chest. “You have a life outside of this. Your work is important. They need you over there.”

  “Do you need me here?” He placed his hands on mine, and I had no doubt he would stay, which is the reason why there was no way in hell I’d ask him to. His life meant too much to me.

  “I’m good.” It wasn’t a lie based on this week. I tried not to think about how many nights there were in a month nor the brewing storm. Maybe this would be easier, not having him around when it got ugly. His palm touched my face and I leant into it.

  “I’m good, Harry, seriously. I want you to go, it’s important. And besides, I have a new flatmate who’ll hold my hair back when I vomit and cook me food I’ll turn my nose up at ...”

  “Sounds amazing,” he joked, then glanced at his watch.

  “Maybe a month apart will help sort this out,” I added, motioning between us. “You know … sever the connection.”

  His brows raised. I couldn’t blame him. I knew the second the words left my mouth that I was full of it.

  Harry stood and pulled me up with him, then wrapped his arm around the curve of my back. He pressed his lips to that glorious spot below my ear again and my knees weakened. One touch and I wanted to take it all back – my hesitation, my excuses and my permission to leave me for a month.

 

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