"I need a hug," Shelagh's barely audible words hung in the air for merely a second before Patrick was engulfing her in his arms. In the weeks following the surgery physical contact had been minimal. A gentle hand on the back, a chaste kiss on the cheek or the occasional lacing of fingers was all Shelagh could bare. The centre of their bed was desolate, a no man's land that Patrick daren't cross, not until Shelagh was ready to put on her battle armour cross the terrain.
Her resolve broke unexpectedly. Every cry of a baby that filtered through the surgery felt like taunting from God. The miracle of childbirth used to fill her with joy but now she had to suppress a sob every time she time she heard a cry. The new parents were allowed to cry for the new life they held in their arms, why couldn't she cry for the life she'd never hold? That thought broke her. She slowly made her way to Patrick's office and swiftly closed the door behind her. But once in his office to she was frozen to the spot and lent against the door, fearing she wouldn't stay upright if she didn't.
"I need a hug." She didn't realise it was what she needed until the words had fallen out her mouth but the moment she was in Patrick arms she felt more comfort than she had in weeks. She broke down in his arms, finally allowing herself to cry, and he held her together as she did so.
"We'll get through this, we always do." Patrick told her.
"How many times have we said that?" She sobbed.
"Too many, and i'm sure we'll say it again. But we will get through this together."
When Shelagh's cries finally subsided led her to his chair and pulled her onto his lap, not willing to let go of her now she'd finally let him in.
"Together," she repeated as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.
"Always," was all Patrick could utter in response.