Thanks to anyone who read.
Part 2:
She'd fallen asleep about 25 minutes into the movie - a silly comedy which was the fastest thing he could find as he bolted from his house four minutes after her text telling him where she was. Where she was bloody recovering from surgery. Alone.
He loved his brother, at least he kept telling himself that. But the fucking lout was too much sometimes. Carla shouldn't be scared of what he'd think or feel. This should be about her. Who in the fucking hell would worry more about a hypothetical baby they likely didn't even want over the general health and well-being of their wife. Of Carla.
He'd grabbed the movie and some boring biscuits from the kitchen and made it over there as fast as he could. For all their fights, all the strife, she was family and beyond that a friend. No one he cared for should be suffering alone when he was alive to make sure they weren't.
He'd do the same for anyone, maybe.
She stirred and moaned around 2 a.m. and nearly bolted upright in severe pain. He handed her two more tablets and checked her temperature. No fever, no infections, she'd said. And she nearly drifted off but the pain was too severe.
"Tell me a story."
"No." he said flatly.
"But I'm sick…. Boo hoo feel bad for me."
He smirked and stopped caring about space and moved to sit right beside her, leaning against the headboard slightly over her.
"About a princess?"
"Boring."
"About an action hero."
"Nah."
"About ghosts?"
"Definitely not." She shook her head. "Nothing dead or ugly."
"In general, good rules, those." He said. "But then what's left."
She turned her head, rumpled hair, paler than usual and slightly dry lips and winked. She bloody winked.
"You look like hell, for the record."
"My hell can still be most men's heaven," she snarked back tapping his arm.
"That it is."
They both ignore the statement and he poked her arm.
"Who asks for dirty stories when they're this sick?"
"On second thought bad idea. My uterus feels like a cat and a porcupine had a fight in there so the last thing I need is bloody rushing anywhere south in my body. Though I've heard your stories… I'm not at much of a risk of being in the mood."
"Oy, I'll have you know, I'm quite good at all that dirty talk."
"Liam!" She mocked in horror. "A dirty or sexy story is not the equivalent of dirty talking! I would be asking for narrative and fiction not you to tell me every which way you'd fuck me,"
Silence. Fucking silence. For just two beats too long.
"If only you brought another movie. For a pricey hotel, their channels are lacking." Carla and the segue to the rescue. Mercifully.
"Speaking of pricey…." he made a low whistle noise. "This place… for days?!"
"Well, he won't get mad and won't know how much of our - and it is ours, not just his, money I am spending. He already thinks I spent a cool four grand on some mysterious cosmetic touch up, so in a way this part isn't a lie, NHS, mate. Surgery for real shit is covered ...and so…"
"So you thought, why not spend the cash you'd be spending in your lie, on this place." He nodded. "I always underestimate that powerful brain of yours. That's just pure and proper logic, that."
She tapped her head. "Some stuff is still in working order…. Even if I won't be able to wank for two months probably."
He stared at her aghast and then shook his head with a laugh.
"You thought I was just gonna segue and NOT bring it back to making it awkward,. NEVER"
Her throaty laugh was all the cheer he needed, she seemed like herself. Pain or not.
And it was only because of surgery that he could even fathom sharing a bed with her in a gorgeous hotel room in the middle of the night when she made noises like that.
He was a nursemaid. He'd keep telling himself that. Maybe for years.
They talked and by the time morning came she was more peacefully asleep. He waited until around 11 and her breakfast had been brought up for him to excuse himself. Though he said he'd call her and check in the next day in person.
She made a show of how unnecessary that was but she was smiling and not her usual crestfallen self. So he decided 'sod tomorrow' he'd be back tonight.
The next two days were largely the same. Intense pain, boring meals, crappy telly and waiting for it to be evening when Liam would be there. He'd offered to stay during the day on the second day but she'd nearly hurt herself shooing him out. It's not that she was afraid of taking his time. SHe was never afraid of anything with Liam. Not really. The only thing she feared was losing him and Chelle and now - after the two days of him going over the top to not only keep her secret but he her caregiver - she knew it in her bones: she didn't need to fear losing him. Short of cheating on Paul, she knew even if they split, Liam would know her. She would always have him.
Short of hurting his brother by cheating - and that chain of thoughts lead to only something far worse.
It had been 15 years of shaking away these creeping thoughts. She wasn't delusional enough to pretend they didn't exist. She just chalked it up to the fact that two heterosexual and very attractive people who were a man and a woman would always have some odd little thing between them. It was just nature. Biology. Brother in law or not.
And that spark, that tickle of what could be a fire if she let it was one thing to battle. But being laid out at her most vulnerable and wanting to snuggle up into him even as she cried from pain was another level she could not and would not entertain.
She had Liam and his loyalty to her. That had to be enough.
Day four came and he arrived later than usual.
"You didn't have to come if you had a hot date - though I've seen the mingers? Your dates and hot ain't the word I'd used to describe them but whatever floats yer….What, what is it?"
He ran his nervous hand through his hair and shrugged. Dammit.
"Something the matter? Is everyone okay."
"Yeah everyone is fine. I just…"
"Oh shit you did have a date. I'm sorry. I mean, well no but… you didn't have to come here if…"
"No date. For me," He shook his head.
Paul. She knew. She had her suspicions and she was beyond angry and sad every time she considered all the evidence. But the worst thing about that exact moment of realization was knowing she was more relieved to hear Liam had no date. A new level of 'fucked' up was happening in her life
The pain was awful. Torturous and she couldn't even get up to tell Paul off. She was literally trapped with pain and rage and it had always been figurative until his bloody moment,
"I… it were a client and I didn't mean to. Fucking hell Car, you've just had surgery and I am worrying you for nowt… I.." he swore up and down earlier when he saw Paul at that place with that woman that he'd shut his damn sodding mouth. And he knew a large part of him was risking hurting her while she was at her most vulnerable for the most selfish of reasons.
"I know Liam." She calmed her voice. "I feel like a atone of bricks had fallen onto my chest because I already know but i am not so fucking poorly I can't go yell at him, hurt him or even fuck someone else to get even."
He nodded. A mere twitch at the last line.
"I'm sorry." He looked in more pain than her, and she patted the bed.
"And I'm truly sorry that I may kill your brother."
He nodded again. "Not if I don't first…. But, you know, I could still be wrong. And I fucking hate how much I can't lie to you that I said ANYTHING whilst you're like this."
She nodded and half laughed bitterly. "I mean, that is quite awful timing even for you. Had I suspected your wife was screwing around I'd have waited til you could walk without crying to tell you.
He smacked his face with his hands in defeat. "I am the worst. But it's you… I can't lie to you."
"And that's why you are not your brother." she touched his arm and looked up at him.
"I lied to you once." He said. "You don't actually look like hell."
She smiled slightly and grabbed his hand. "This I already know,"
TBC.
