On her second morning back home, Rachel woke up facing the window. She could see the morning light through the curtain and thought about all the things she wanted to do today, knowing she would be lucky if she could even manage one of them. She felt Eddie stirring in the bed behind her, as he rolled toward her, cuddled up to her back, and wrapped his arm around her waist, his warm hand coming to rest on her bare stomach. Although it was only 36 hours since she had come home from the hospital, so much had happened. So much had shifted in her life. Eddie had become so much more than a colleague over the past few months: he had become her friend, her defender, her comfort, and for now, her boss, her nurse, her cook . . . her carer. And after her second night back at home, finally, her lover. As he nuzzled the back of her neck, she felt that she was going to enjoy this new life. But still, it was a stark difference to her previous one, and would take some getting used to. The food for a start. "Where did you learn to cook then?" she asked.

"Oh," he hesitated, sighed, then continued, "it's a long story."

She realised there was a lot she did not know about Eddie. Having worked so hard to keep him at arm's length, she had seen much of his personality, but knew very little about what had made him that way. She had learned about his marriage, his divorce, his children, his loss, but only under duress. But she knew that was not all there was to him. But there was no rush. The one thing she did have now was time, and she would use it to get to know him. It had seemed such an innocent question about where he learned to cook, but clearly there was a deeper story behind it. She just hoped she would hear it one day.

"I learned to cook when I was in foster care," he said quietly.

This was news to Rachel. When had Eddie been in foster care? His family was so important to him. He had been a doting, hands-on father to his baby twins. The loss of Stephen had affected him deeply. As misguided as it was, he had been willing to walk away from Michael because he thought it was the best thing for the boy. Luckily, he had come to realise that he had been wrong and had built an affectionate relationship with the boy in recent months. During the coma, she had missed Eddie so much at the times when he was not by her side. But she missed him a little less when she knew he was with Michael, knowing that she would get to hear all about it afterwards. Although Rachel had never been much interested in young children, she loved the delight in Eddie's voice when he spoke about his son. And Rachel remembered the day when Eddie broke down in tears at her bedside saying, "I just love him so much," over and over again. She had just assumed that such devoted parenting had to come from someone who was just following the example set by his own parents. But clearly, she was wrong.

"I had this Maths teacher," he continued. "When Dad had his heart attack, she fostered me for a few months until he came out of this hospital."

Rachel took hold of his hand, hoping to draw more of his story out of him, but he stopped. After a few minutes, she prompted, "where was your mum?"

She felt his body tense up and she realised she had gone too far. "I don't know," he replied, but she could sense that a wall had gone up. That was all the information she was going to get right now. She had no idea what story her simple question about cooking would unravel. But she knew, this story was done for now. Although she found it difficult to be patient with herself and her current situation, she found she had endless patience for Eddie.

Eddie cursed himself as he found himself in the bathroom. Waking up with Rachel was meant to be a magical moment. He had meant to ask her if she was OK. Making love to her last night felt like the right thing to do at the time, but what if it was not? He wanted to be sure that he had not pressured her, had not hurt her. He wanted to give her any help she needed, and he definitely wanted to avoid a repeat of yesterday morning. He felt guilty that she had not felt able to ask him for the help she needed yesterday, and now he realised, he had left her in exactly the same position again. He could not leave it like this. He turned off the shower before stepping in and returned to the bedroom. He knelt beside the bed, took Rachel's hand, and said, "I'm sorry."

"Me too," she replied.

She watched his face, so serious and worried, turn into a smile. "Can we start the day again?" she asked, moving over and lifting the edge of the duvet.

Eddie climbed back into bed and cuddled up to her again.