On the Tuesday, Ric elected to stay at home, saying that he would spend some time with Jess and Zubin, and for Connie not to worry about him. "All right," She said a little unconvincingly. "But you know where I am." So, she left him, driving into the hospital on her own, entirely unable to shake the feeling that she was doing the wrong thing.
But Connie fretted all morning about Ric, knowing full well that what she'd done for him yesterday had only been a temporary measure. Bringing him to orgasm, allowing him to let out some of the tension that was surrounding him, had only been a time buyer, a reprieve, a way of putting the hungry dragon of his addiction back into a fitful doze. But Connie was sensible enough to realise that the dragon wouldn't remain asleep forever. It would wake up again sooner or later, rise up and breathe fire on the craving within. She knew that he was terrified of this happening again, though he wouldn't entirely admit it to her, as was she. It scared Ric almost out of his mind, because he didn't want to disappoint everyone he valued, and because he didn't want to end up the need driven emotional and financial wreck he'd been a couple of years ago. Connie was terrified that if he did give into the calling of the roulette wheel, she really didn't know whether or not she could support him through it. It wasn't that she didn't want to have to cope with the realities of his having an addiction, but it was whether or not she could, her concern being for his well being not hers. She wanted to be strong for him, to be able to give him the level of comfort he'd so willingly bestowed on her at Christmas. When all that had happened with Michael, Connie had felt as near to giving up as she ever had done in her life. Ric had said that he loved her, but did that mean that he would still love her, if she found that she couldn't quite manage to be the rock he so badly needed her to be. Michael hadn't ever needed a rock, because rocks weren't generally considered malleable enough to be fucked and then discarded like the proverbial French letter. That's all Michael had ever thought of her as, though in her case, the disposable object hadn't been limited to one use only. Oh no, she had been far too useful to him for that, else why had he married her? She had been something beautiful to bring out on display at all the relevant functions, clearly in a much higher class than the type of scrubbers he usually favoured. Her own brilliance as a surgeon hadn't exactly hindered her career, a fact that he had often chosen to forget.
But Ric wasn't like that, he treated her with kindness and respect. He made her feel capable of absolutely anything when he deftly mapped the peaks and valleys of her body, taking her to heights of pleasure she'd forgotten existed during all her years with Michael. Why else had she sought so many dalliances of her own? Though most of these had ended up being highly unsatisfactory. But Ric hadn't been like that, oh no. He had touched her almost with reverence at the end of her very first day. His hands had wandered confidently over her skin, tracing the curve of breast and hip with such tenderness, and moving between her legs with such skill and accuracy. Then, as he had finally entered her, she had really known what it was to be filled to capacity. As the head of his positively enormous shaft had grazed her cervix, she had felt a connection with him, a connection that she'd almost wasted in her attempt to rule the roost.
Her thoughts constantly wandered between Ric and her work all day, and when she finally reached home some time after seven, all she wanted was a soft, sensuous cuddle from him. But Ric wasn't there. The house was cold and quiet, with not a single sign of life in its vicinity. Picking up the phone, Connie dialled Zubin's number. Thankfully she got him not Jess, because she didn't want to worry Ric's daughter at a time like this. "Zubin, is Ric there?" She asked, but already thinking that she knew the answer. "No," Zubin said in surprise. "I thought he was with you." "And he told me that he would be with you this afternoon," Connie said in dawning realisation, her voice sounding more world weary than Zubin had ever heard it. "Where do you think he is?" Zubin asked her, getting that old wave of suspicion that he hadn't felt about Ric since the old days. "Well," Connie said ruefully, reaching for her cigarettes and lighting one. "I'd say it was a choice between the casino and the betting shop, wouldn't you?" "You've caught on quickly," Said Zubin with slight amazement. "I'm learning," Connie said succinctly. After she'd taken a long drag of her cigarette and Zubin had been given a moment to think, he said, "Do you want me to go and look for him? It's not as if I don't know where he's likely to be." "No, don't do that," Connie said on an exhalation of smoke. "He'll come home when he's ready."
Connie made herself something to eat, though she didn't feel especially hungry, and spent the rest of the evening sitting in front of the open fire in her sitting-room, smoking. She was trying to prepare herself for how Ric might feel when he eventually came home, which she did assume he would. After all, apart from Zubin's or Diane's, he had nowhere else to go. She couldn't be angry with him, she knew that, because she had seen this coming ever since she had told him of the death of his grandson. Ric had been living on a knife-edge all week, desperately trying to suppress the urge to follow his calling. She wasn't even disappointed in him, because she fully understood why he had done it. He'd said yesterday that he just wanted to feel different from who he was, which was Ric's way of saying that he wanted to leave behind all the feelings of guilt, regret and uselessness that currently invaded his every thought. She sat there for hours, slumped comfortably in the corner of the sofa, with her cigarettes and a mug of coffee to hand. The longer he remained away, the more worried she became for him, but not even Connie could stay awake after the day of operating she'd had. Eventually slipping into a light doze, she drifted in an out of the firelight and her growing concern.
When she eventually heard the sound of his key in the front door, her eyes snapped open in an instant. She had given him a key so that he could come and go as he pleased. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was well after midnight, and she could hear the faint patter of rain on the windows. Having lowered the lights to their dimmest setting a long time ago, the only real light now came from the fire, which in itself was dying low. When Ric moved into the lounge, he was clearly surprised to see her still up. "Connie," he said, and she could hear all the numbness in his voice that obviously followed a high. "I was waiting for you to come home," She replied with a yawn, at the same time stretching her arms above her head to get rid of a crick in her shoulder. "You shouldn't have waited up," He said dully, seeing in the dim light just how tired she was. Getting up from the sofa, Connie moved over to him, putting her arms up around his neck and kissing his cheek. He didn't immediately return her embrace, almost feeling that he didn't deserve her comfort. But the lure of her tenderness was too inviting, and he held her to him, breathing in the scent of her hair and wanting to stay here forever. "I do know where you've been, you know," She told him quietly. "Is it that obvious?" He asked, not even attempting to deny it, because the last thing he wanted to do was to lie to her. "Yes," She said a little somberly. "Because part of you doesn't think you deserve a cuddle." "I don't," Ric said simply. "Would I be doing this if I thought you didn't?" She asked, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. Ric didn't answer, not knowing what he could possibly say. "I'm not cross with you," She said, feeling the need to offer him some form of reassurance. "You should be," He said a little darkly. "And I will be," She told him firmly. "If you ever try to tell me what I should or shouldn't feel." The familiar sound of her forthright tone made his lips twitch in the briefest of smiles. Only then, did Connie realise just how rain drenched he was. "You're soaking," She said, drawing back from him. "It is raining outside," he told her, gesturing at the awful weather outside the window. "And I did have to walk home." "Then you are going to go upstairs, have a hot shower, and I'll make you some coffee," Connie said firmly, slightly pushing him towards the door. As he did her bidding, he wondered why she was being so nice to him. It wasn't as though he deserved it, after what he'd done tonight. When she appeared upstairs with the coffee and he eventually got out of the steaming shower, she joined him in bed, cuddling up close to him, as much for her own comfort as his. As Ric sipped at the hot, strong coffee, he tried to formulate some sort of explanation for what he had done. Seeing the pensive look on his face, Connie said, "Don't try and talk about it tonight, wait till tomorrow." Heartily relieved that she didn't want any explanations from him tonight, Ric put his arms round her and kissed her, pouring into his embrace all the feelings of guilt and apology that were coursing through him. He loved Connie, and he felt as though he'd just betrayed everything she'd ever meant to him.