When she reached home, Jean didn't stop at her place first as she normally would, she went directly to Lucien's house. He had given her a key when she'd first begun staying over, but she didn't want to startle him now so she tapped gently on the door, giving him a chance to compose himself or do whatever he needed to do first before facing her. If he didn't answer she would let herself in.
She was relieved to hear his footsteps from inside, and he was wearing a gentle smile when he opened the door to her. But the welcoming smile was the only thing that looked normal about him. His eyes were drawn, with a haunted cast to them, and he sported a somewhat grey pallor.
Without a word, Jean stepped toward him and wrapped her arms around his middle. Lucien responded by enfolding her in his strong embrace, and they stood like that for several minutes, neither of them speaking a word.
When Jean finally stepped back far enough to hold him at arms' length and study him, she heard Mattie clear her throat from behind him.
"I'll just be on my way, then," the young nurse said, grabbing her purse. She walked over to Lucien and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Take care of yourself," she whispered to him.
"Thank you, Mattie," he told her, his voice still a bit hoarse.
"Good night, Mattie, and thank you," said Jean, and the girl waved an answering hand as she disappeared through the door.
Jean locked the door behind her, then turned back to Lucien. "Have you eaten?" she asked him.
"Not very much of an appetite, I'm afraid," he admitted.
"I thought I'd make some scrambled eggs and toast. Will you join me?" She figured something simple and quick might tempt him.
"I'll sit with you at least," he told her.
She decided to make enough for two, just in case she could change his mind. But first she put the kettle on to boil. She thought some chamomile tea might benefit both of them. "At least I know where everything is now," she said as she pulled eggs and butter from the refrigerator. "Not like when we were making our dinner on Christmas Eve." She hoped reminding him of happier times might help Lucien.
"We've come so far since then," he said. His gentle smile looked a bit more genuine.
"Yes, we have. Far enough that I hope you know I'll do anything I can to help you through this," she told him.
"I do know that, and your being here with me helps more than you can possibly know."
"Does it? I'm glad." She set down the items she held and walked over to hug him again. "Thank you for letting me in, for letting me be here with you," she told him quietly. "For trusting me enough to let me see you when you're not at your best."
He held her against his chest. "Jean, I trust you with my heart. Why wouldn't I trust you with the other parts of my life?" he said softly.
She hugged him more tightly at that, feeling her love for him reflected back at her. She reached up to kiss him before stepping back. "At this rate we'll never get around to eating," she said as she moved back over to the stove.
She finished making the eggs and toast, then poured out the tea. She placed all the food on one plate, which she set on the table between their two chairs, along with two sets of silverware and the mugs of tea.
Sure enough, not long after they sat down, he began to nibble on a slice of toast and then picked up a fork to dig into the eggs. "This is nice, just what I needed, as it turns out. Thank you," he said. "And thank you for the lovely song. It was perfect."
She smiled at him. "That's because I meant every word of it."
He hung his head for a moment, making her wonder if perhaps she'd said something inadvertently that hurt him. When he looked up at her his eyes had filled with tears, but he did not look the least bit sad. "At last my love has come along, too," he said quietly.
Much of the rest of their impromptu meal was in silence, but an intimate, companionable sort of silence. It was enough that they were together, with no further words required. When they finished, they shared the washing up duties as usual, then made their way upstairs to the bedroom.
She thought Lucien looked even wearier than she felt herself, and they both undressed quickly and slipped into bed, meeting in the middle of it. Lucien kissed her, as he usually did, but he deepened it more than she thought he might, and his hand moved up to cup her breast.
Surprised, she broke the kiss, arching an eyebrow to question him.
"Just because I'm not up for anything, so to speak, it doesn't mean I can't give you pleasure," he said.
"Lucien..." she chided him.
"Jean, I don't want you to be deprived due to my weakness," he began again.
She took hold of his hand and kissed it tenderly. "You're a wonderful and generous lover, but it's hardly deprivation for me to go a single night without having sex," she assured him. "You needn't feel obligated, tonight of all nights. I love you, Lucien, and if I'm ever feeling deprived I'll most certainly let you know. Now, are you going to be able to sleep tonight?"
"Alice gave me something to take if I feel I need it, but just having you here beside me is the best tonic of all," he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek, this time merely in affection.
"Then please promise you'll wake me if you need me, or even if you just want to talk. That's the only way I'll be able to sleep, all right?"
"Yes, of course," he said, sliding closer to wrap his arms around her.
Jean wasn't entirely sure he'd keep that promise, but having him spooned behind her was so comforting that she fell asleep before she could give it much further thought.
She slept quite soundly until a burst of cold air woke her. She was aware immediately that Lucien no longer held her from behind, and when she rolled over to check on him, she realized he was not in the bed, that the breeze she'd felt was from the door opening out onto the balcony. She peered through the sheer curtains to see him seated outside, staring at the ocean, with tears running down his face. Her heart clenched at the sight of him in such despair.
Not wishing to startle him, she rattled the doorknob before she opened the door and slipped outside. He scrubbed his palms over his face and then looked up at her, trying to smile.
"Lucien," she said softly, leaning over him to rest a hand on his cheek.
He turned his head to kiss her palm. "I'm sorry if I woke you," he said.
"You promised me you would wake me if you needed me," she reminded him, not unkindly.
"I know, but you looked so peaceful I didn't have the heart to disturb you," he admitted.
She shook her head. "You only make me feel guilty when you say things like that," she told him, sliding into the chair with him and putting her arms around him.
"That's the last thing I wanted," he sighed, the tears rising in his eyes once again.
He turned his head away from her, but she took his chin in her hand and turned him back so she could look in his eyes. "Tell me," she urged him. "The worst is over, isn't it? This was the session you were dreading, but it's over now."
Slowly he shook his head. "It's just beginning," he explained. "I have to listen to that session every day this week. And then I have to relive the whole thing again next week, and the week after that. That's why they call this treatment 'Prolonged Exposure'. The idea is that if I go through it often enough, it loses its power over me."
She couldn't prevent a wince at that, but then she gathered control of herself. She needed to help Lucien focus on the positives. "But it will lose its power, "she told him. "You can get through this, Lucien. I know how strong you are. Just remember what you'll be and what you'll have when it's over. And I'll be here with you through as much of it as you'll let me."
He studied her carefully, and she thought he was going to say something, but then he gave a slight shake and said instead, "Thank you, Jean. That means a great deal to me. And now, let's see if we can get some sleep."
He stood and took her hand, and they returned to the bed. For a long time they merely held each other. It was enough just to be together.
The sun was already shining when Jean awoke again. Lucien's arms were still around her, and she turned to face him. Before he could school his expression, she could see a look of deep despair and even fear in his eyes. She reached for him and held him tightly, and he returned the embrace with an almost desperate intensity.
She felt a stab of guilt that he was suffering like this, knowing he would not have consented to the therapy if not for for her, but then she remembered what Alice had said, that at the end of the treatment his life would be so much better, free of this crippling terror that held such sway over him.
She kissed his cheek as she held him, and that seemed to bring him back to himself. He kissed her on the lips, but lightly, as he did most mornings.
"We can just stay right here for as long as you like," she said gently, not wanting to pressure him in any way. They would take it slowly today, following whatever schedule made him comfortable.
He thought about the situation for just a moment. "I think I ought to get it over with, listening to the recording, so I don't spend the whole morning dreading it," he said.
"Would you like me to stay with you for that?" she asked. "You can listen on your headphones, but you'll know I'm there for moral support."
"You wouldn't mind? I'll probably be a wreck, but if I know you're there..."
"That's what we'll do then," said Jean. "Maybe some coffee and toast first?"
"Thank you, Jean," he said, "for everything."
"You're welcome. I know you'd do the same if our situations were reversed. Now I'll just pop into the shower for a minute before we go down."
He was quiet over their quick breakfast, and she elected to just hold his hand in support rather than trying to make meaningless conversation. He managed a smile for her when their eyes met, but most of the time he seemed to be gathering his courage for the ordeal that lay ahead of him.
She was nervous and on edge herself as he led her downstairs to his music room. He slipped his AirPods into his ears as he sat down in one of the upholstered chairs. She perched on the arm of his chair and draped her arm across his shoulders so he could feel her presence even with his eyes closed. He wore the look of a condemned man as he reluctantly pressed the Play button on the music system remote.
Moments later he was already wincing at what he could hear, but then he surprised her by removing one of the earbuds and offering it to her. He was trusting her enough to let her share in the weakest and worst moments of his life. With a touch of curiosity and a large share of apprehension, she slipped the pod into her own ear to listen to what he'd been reliving.