In Divine Proportion
Barbara Havers couldn't remember a time when she had been held in quite the way Lynley was embracing her now. She was so angry; the rage and the fear had come at her in such a storm that she struggled with all her might when he tried to pull her off the constable.
And then the adrenaline left her, and his gentle touch brought her back to the here and now. She felt his hands – those beautiful, capable hands that she had so often admired on the steering wheel of his Bristol, providing comfort to the victims in the cases they'd worked together – running up and down her back, over her shoulders in a soothing rhythm.
"Come away, Barbara," he said as he gently led her further from the pub and into his all-encompassing embrace. Kindness, the little she had been shown had always been her undoing.
It was Lynley's kindness that had opened the door to their budding friendship. On their first case, just as he'd started to turn away, she had reluctantly admitted her ambivalence: "Kindness, that's a tricky one, isn't it?" Those words had halted him in his tracks, and he had stayed, quietly providing strength and comfort.
Now, as she buried her face against his chest and allowed the sobs to take over, he continued to hold her and stroke her back in the soothing rhythm he had begun earlier. He kissed her head and whispered calming words close to her ear. "It's alright, Barbara. It's over now. Shhh... Shhh... It's over."
When her body-wracking sobs eventually petered down to the odd hiccup or two, he slowly eased her away. Looking at her tear-stained face, he wished he could take the pain away, but he suspected that Barbara had been holding it all in, and this was just the release she needed.
Reluctant to break contact, he raised her face and used his thumbs to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. He was surprised when he saw her raise her hand and feel her thumb glide across his cheek. He'd had no idea that he'd been crying.
They stood like that for a telling moment; their eyes unguarded, their bodies taking comfort in each other. When the moment became too intense, Barbara was the first to look away, but instead of breaking contact (as he fully expected her to), she once again buried her face in his chest. He squeezed her to him, conveying with his embrace all the unspoken truths and hopes he harboured in his secret heart.
Though many uninformed observers might characterize Havers's breakdown as weakness, Lynley would always consider it her greatest show of strength, a sign of just how far she had come since the day they'd become partners. The old Barbara would have eschewed comfort, but this new woman took what was offered to heal herself, and seeing the change in her, he allowed himself to hope.