Right so this was never meant to take so long to update so please accept my apologies on that score. When I last wrote this Dylan had just declared that he wanted to get back together with Sam, so we do pick up from that point in this chapter and I promise you will not have to wait over a month for the next one!
Thank you to everyone who did read and review the last part, it always means a lot. However extra special thanks as ever to Meggi (for just being so lovely!), Ficmouse (for sharing my endless debates over storylines, writing and for all your support over the last difficult month) and especially Anny (who kept me company until the early hours of the morning on so many occasions as I struggled to write this it has been untrue, besides who else would I turn to for random fic ideas at 3am?).
Anyway, I really hope this is worth the wait.
To look out for you
The definition of release
Release: verb; allow or enable escape from confinement, physically real or otherwise, set free, allow to move, act or flow freely
Dylan Keogh
Dylan found the silence of the room overwhelming as he sat perched on the edge of his ex-wife's bed staring out of the window into the darkness of the night, knowing that at so many other times in the last few weeks he had been stood just metres away at the foot of the path that led to Samantha's flat studying this very same pane of glass but from the outside looking in. He knew he should be drawing comfort from the fact that he was now permitted to be on the inside of these four walls instead able to look out, but his wife's actions in the half hour since he had uttered those all-important words to her had significantly dented his confidence in their current situation reaching a satisfactory outcome for either of them.
He had been aware that her mind was made up about returning to Afghanistan and it likely had been since before she had even come to Holby in the first place, but whilst he was never going to stand in the way of her achieving her ambitions by preventing her departure he was also certain that he was going to spend the entirety of the six to nine months she was posted to a warzone sitting by the phone on tenterhooks for news, just as he had on both her previous tours, even though on the second he had always doubted whether she would have ever asked for him to be called if the worst had actually occurred. Dylan recalled the day he had proposed to the young woman he loved, so euphoric on her behalf that she had been accepted as an army medic and yet beside himself with fear for her safety all at once. There had been something about the intensity of her happiness in that one moment when she opened the letter, the first time she had really shown that she was aware a future existed since Ashley's attack on her, which had proved to him without question that he wanted nothing more from his life than to marry this woman.
He remembered the sound of Samantha squealing with surprise and delight when he had gotten down on one knee as they walked Dervla through the countryside and formally asked her the question he had wanted to for months beforehand but had felt unable to do so in fear of putting further pressure on her when she seemed vulnerable and scared. In spite of the knowledge that his then future wife had just landed herself a job that was guaranteed to tear her from his arms for months at a time that moment had possibly been the happiest of his life, in that it was just the two of them and Dervla and they were able to bask in the glory of being a happy family unit without any of the complications of their shared past. Dylan thought back to how it had been that evening when rather than just slope into bed next to him for a cuddle, the woman he loved had initiated something further and for the first time since the fateful nights when he had taken advantage of her and then she had been wounded so deeply by Ashley's assault, she had allowed him to make love to her as if neither of them had ever done so before. The beautiful fragility of how they came together that night was seared into Dylan's memory and still took his breath away as he recalled how the ever-present uncertainty in his wife's expression had morphed under his touch and they had become one with an intensity he had not experienced with anyone else before nor would ever achieve other than in her embrace.
"Nick and Zoe have gone to pick up some food," Samantha's voice came from behind him and Dylan cocked his head to turn to face her as she stood motionless in the doorway, fresh from speaking to the others who had been present in the living room. "I think they wanted to talk," she continued and he recognised the sadness in her eyes as she spoke. "About me, about them, I don't know anymore. I think they wanted to give us some space too," she added quietly before pausing. "You do know this is never going to work right," she elaborated, glancing down at the floor in a way that Dylan figured implied she was struggling to say the words aloud. "You and me I mean; us. We can't go back."
"You're running away," Dylan answered indignantly, cursing himself for his tone and snapping his head around to look away from his wife's hurt expression to stare back out of the window.
"It's not that you and know it isn't," she responded slowly, refusing it seemed to match his own angry tone with her voice in reply he considered. "Because you think I'm ignoring what you said? I've thought about nothing else but it doesn't change anything. I've spent my entire life relying on someone else to be strong for me, my mum, Ash even for a while and then you, but I can't just stand here waiting for someone to make it better, it doesn't work like that," she explained, walking round the bed and positioning herself to stand in front of Dylan leaning against the window frame, her warm breath steaming up the glass as he watched.
"I'm not asking you to stay," he replied, closing his eyes to shut out the image of the crumpled, sleepy looking woman in front of him, something he knew was familiar to her from the memory she had once told him about how she would wait for her father to return by her bedroom window as a small child and how heartbroken she had been when he repeatedly disappointed her by failing to arrive for weeks at a time. "I'm not asking you to stay," he reiterated, reopening his eyes and trying to sound more confident than he felt inside. "I'm just asking that you consider coming back here afterwards. Whatever else happens I'm still your husband and I, well, if nothing else I would like us to be able to sort things out so perhaps one day we could be friends."
"You want to be my friend?" she questioned in surprise a few moments later, the reflection of the wry smile that crossed her face on hearing those words making Dylan consider his statement more carefully. "I don't think we ever did friends, not really, and to be honest I don't think either of us are particularly good at being friends. Look at you and Zoe, me and Tom, I mean can you really see the two of us just seeing each other for a chat over a coffee every once in a while, because I can't."
"I'd rather have that than nothing at all," Dylan stated simply, studying the impact his words were having on the expression of the girl staring back at him in the glass. "I know how much the army means to you, I know how much this tour means to you," he continued, stumbling on the words. "And even though every part of me is saying I should stop you from going, I would never stand in your way because that isn't my place, but that doesn't change how I feel about you leaving," he elaborated, watching Sam remaining expressionless throughout. "It doesn't change how I feel about you, yet for some reason you keep stubbornly insisting that we should get divorced."
"I saw my solicitor last week," his wife interjected, cutting through his emotional state like a knife. "They'll write to you. I'll be gone by then, but still…."
"I don't understand why, after everything we've been through, you still want to do this," Dylan snapped back without thinking. "Why won't you even do me the courtesy of talking it through?"
"We never talked things through though, did we?" Sam questioned, turning her head slightly and allowing Dylan to see her skin was fast becoming tear-stained before she returned her focus to the darkness outside her window. "If you think I'm doing this because I don't love you then you're wrong," she continued, pressing her forehead harder against the pane. "I guess to start with I thought I was doing this because you wanted to be with Zoe, but even knowing that isn't the case doesn't change the facts. I'm doing it because I love you and I know that sounds utterly mad, but it's because I love you that I know I have to let you go," she justified quickly.
"Can you give me one good reason for that? Can you Sam?" Dylan probed sternly, finding himself angry that in spite of all that had gone on his wife was still determined to make a decision that affected both their futures equally against his express wishes. "Because right now all I can see is that you've scared yourself senseless with all this Mr Ellis stuff and you're letting memories of what Ashley did to you cloud your judgement all over again."
"You think I am saying this because I'm not thinking straight?" she argued, spinning round to face Dylan and he found himself standing up instinctively in front of her, closing the gap between them within a heartbeat.
"That is exactly what I am saying," he replied tersely. "Four years ago you let him get inside your head and you drove into a tree, today it was pills but the intended outcome was the same. If you were a patient I would be advising you not to make any significant life decisions at this moment."
"But I'm not your patient," she shouted back at him, causing Dylan to reach down and grab hold of both her hands.
"No, you're my wife," he answered her. "And I know you think that doesn't mean anything to me, but it does and I am not about to just stand here and let you throw everything away because of him."
"Why can't you see that this is what we both need?" Sam screamed out, her face contorted with anguish. "I need to set you free Dylan; you deserve a proper life, one without me in it. You never got a choice over what happened, you got caught up with my life spiralling out of control and I just wouldn't let go."
"You still think that I didn't choose to be here?" Dylan replied sharply, shaking her hands with his own. "That I wouldn't still choose to be here?"
"I never said that," she answered meekly. "I know that you love me, but it isn't enough. It was never enough," she continued, refusing to look up and meet his gaze. "I have to set you free."
"I'm not a bird in a cage Samantha," Dylan retorted. "I don't need to be released."
"No, you're the man who has spent the last four years practically handcuffed to my side," she countered, her voice cracking as she did so, forcing Dylan to bite down hard on his lower lip to stop himself from breaking too. "You saved my life and you stuck around to stick me back together. I can't do much to repay you for that, but I can do this."
"Even if I don't want you to?" he questioned as he dropped his grasp on her hands and collapsed back down onto the bed, knowing full well that he was being obstinate now but refusing to care given how much her words were tearing through him.
"I told you before, this isn't about what we want, it's about what we need," Sam countered sharply, apparently now annoyed at his badgering.
"But I don't need this, I need you," Dylan all but shouted at her from his seated position. "I don't doubt for a second that you think you are doing the right thing by me, your motives have never been anything but honourable but if I can level any criticism at you it would be that your intentions are very much misplaced."
"I cheated on you and you still don't question my motives?" his wife sarcastically responded. "You should hate me. You said you hated me," she added accusingly.
"Samantha we were both hurting and we both lashed out," Dylan acknowledged, remembering the bitter exchange of words that had once brought his marriage crashing down around them. "I might hate what you do sometimes and how you make me feel, but I could never hate you. I won't even pretend I comprehend the complexities of the female mind, especially yours, yet I am certain you wounded yourself more than me that night. You were the one who ended up having meaningless sex with a man you didn't love because you hated yourself so much you wanted me to leave," he explained, trying hard to keep the emotion that was building like a volcano inside him from exploding as he spoke. "And I'm sorry, because I did exactly what you wanted me to."
"Don't apologise," Sam whispered in response before moving away from the window to sit alongside him on the bed, albeit Dylan noted facing slightly away from him and instinctively he found himself placing his hand on the small of her back to offer some basic reassurance that he was still prepared to listen. "I was giving you an out, a get out clause to walk out on our marriage," she described coldly. "I knew you'd promised me you would never walk away unless I wanted you to, that I was ready. I couldn't tell you to go because I didn't want you to leave, but I knew that it wasn't fair on you to force you to stay," she continued in a voice that was so low Dylan found it barely audible. "So I did the one thing I knew would mean that you would leave, I made you believe I wanted to be with someone else and I'm sorry," she concluded, her voice cracking once more and even though he could not see her face this time around, Dylan immediately knew from how Samantha's shoulders were hunched over that she was struggling not to cry.
"Why have we never been able to have the conversations that really counted?" Dylan found himself asking her intently with the sudden realisation dawning on him that they had both spoken more to other people that night about their past than they had ever really done to each other and he pondered momentarily if things would have been different if they had been able to talk things through more openly, like he was aware other couples always seemed to be able to.
"Words were never important, not really," Samantha responded, reaching up to wipe her eyes before spinning round to look at him.
"That's not true is it though?" Dylan questioned, although in reality he knew what he was about to say next was a topic he had steadfastly chosen to avoid raising for four long years. "I told you that you were beautiful and you never believed me, and everything else happened as a result of that one word. If I hadn't walked out on you like I did or if I had at least tried to explain why I couldn't stay," he added before trailing off.
"That if you hadn't left me the way you did, Ash would never have been able to hurt me you mean?" his wife asked pointedly, her watery eyes so wide Dylan felt like he could drown in them instantaneously.
"You were young, vulnerable perhaps even then," he explained in response. "I used you and then I didn't even stick around long enough to tell you that the reason I was walking away was because I wasn't good enough for you," Dylan continued, reaching down to take Samantha's hand as he spoke. "I used you then, I used Zoe just the other day and then lied to you about it. I'm still the same person I was back then, drinking or no drinking, this is me," he finished despondently, considering to himself as he did so that the responsibility he felt over not protecting her was now matched by an odd sense of guilt in that despite it all, he had not changed.
"You aren't the same person Dylan," his wife replied, staring down at where his hand was squeezing her own. "And neither am I, because back then you would drink yourself into oblivion to forget about what was happening and I drove into a tree to try and make it stop," she added thoughtfully. "Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if things had been different," she continued and he watched as she chewed down on her lip in an apparent struggle to stay on top of her feelings.
"There's no point in thinking about what might have been, that doesn't get you anywhere," Dylan interjected quickly, sensing that this conversation was about to take a turn that he did not much appreciate.
"Are you too scared to hear this Dylan?" Samantha asked him directly, finally meeting his gaze. "That if Ash hadn't raped me then we would never have ended up together, because it's true isn't it? Being with you was the best thing that ever happened to me and I only ever got to have it because of what he did and even now I really can't get my head around that."
"You're wrong," Dylan countered sternly, determined to make his point. "That night we slept together may have been an error on my part because I hurt you but that doesn't equate to it being meaningless," he elaborated. "Before that night it had been years since there had been anyone and there has been no one since, except that one night with Zoe. I can't tell you precisely when I fell in love with you because I don't work like that, I have never been one for relationships and feelings but I do know for certain that it was before we spent that night together and I promise you that when I watched you across the room at that charity event the next day I made the decision that I needed to straighten myself out, if only to be worthy of regaining your trust," he described, remembering the moment when he had spied the beautiful creature he had grown to love getting slowly drunk by her apparent friend's side and had known she would be worth the effort it would take in getting himself sorted out. "I was so worried when you didn't come to work the next day I battered your door down and when I saw you there looking so distraught, it was all I could do not to fall apart. How could I tell you then how I felt? I could scarcely even put into words myself and you were so alone," he added reflectively.
"You barely even knew my name," she responded, her eyes full of regret it seemed to him. "There was this moment, just for a second, when Ash kissed me that I considered it," she added and Dylan found himself staring at her in confusion at not understanding her words. "That I considered sleeping with him, even if just to try and make you jealous," she explained hastily before looking down once more. "It was only for a moment I swear but I did think about it, even though I knew I already loved you," she concluded sadly. "I shouldn't have done that."
"Samantha," Dylan said quietly, reaching out his hand under her chin and tilting her head back up towards his gaze. "That doesn't make any of this your fault," he stated gently but firmly, hating that she could have spent the last years feeling somehow responsible for what had happened or that she had let him down. "Do you remember when you came back from your first tour and we went to that hotel?" he continued and watched her nod against his touch. "You showed me that scar on your shoulder, from the bullet wound," Dylan remembered aloud, picturing the scene vividly in his head. "And you told me that in that moment you thought of me," he added before pausing. "So four years ago before we were even together properly you thought about being with someone else for a single second? That doesn't mean anything and it definitely doesn't mean you deserved any of what happened after that. It doesn't change how I feel about you and it never would."
"Even though when I wanted to hurt you, the first thing I thought of doing was sleeping with someone else?" she questioned, still holding his gaze. "And then with Tom? I seem to be making a habit of this."
"You're wrong," Dylan responded at once. "Our marriage was in trouble long before you did what you did and as for Tom, I can hardly hold that against you given the circumstances. It still doesn't change anything for me," he justified before pressing his finger to his wife's lips to prevent her from responding. "I know you don't believe me, I don't think you ever really believed that I loved you the way you loved me but I assure you there was far more to this marriage than just duty on my part," he continued. "You know that there have only ever been two women in my life, three if you now include Zoe," he continued with a serious tone, knowing that of those women only one encounter could truly be called a relationship. "But you are the only one I have ever been in love with and I can't imagine ever being in a position to feel that way about anyone else other than you," he concluded honestly.
He saw the recognition flash across his wife's eyes as she identified the truth in what he was saying and Dylan found himself feeling grateful that despite the horrors they had been through in recent days and weeks, never mind years, they had finally been able to say some of these long overdue words aloud. He dropped his hand from its position against Samantha's cheek and pushed her hair behind her ear from where it had fallen across her face, realising as he did so that in that moment with her messy, damp hair she looked every inch the girl he had once unwrapped from a towel fresh from a shower in her room back on that very first night he had taken her into his arms. He followed her gaze out into the darkness through the window pane before turning back to face her as pulled herself round to look directly at him. Without thought he leant forward and kissed her cheek, allowing her to then rest her forehead against his own as their hands grappled together between them and locked in a comfortingly firm hold.
Dylan felt his ex-wife's weight shift underneath his and without warning he found her head moving slightly so that her lips captured his own and he unconsciously released her fingers from his grasp before pulling his arms tightly around her and drawing her close into his body as Samantha deepened the kiss with a desperation he had not experienced since their last night together, back when they had already known it was over but had both been too afraid to say so. He could feel his wife's fingers working between them undoing the buttons of his shirt frantically and then tugging the material out from the confines of his belt, before she freed the fabric and slipped her hands underneath, her nails scraping at the skin of his lower back as she helped him out of the clothing. Dylan impulsively used his own weight to manoeuvre her backwards onto the solid form of the bed, lying her down before she wrapped her legs around him to bring him crashing down atop her form. He took in every inch of how it felt to once again be so intimately involved with his Samantha as he breathed in her scent and revelled in the touch of her hand against his bare back, with her fingers clawing against him more with each passing moment of passion. However as much as it pleased him that they were locked together so fervently, Dylan pulled his mouth away from hers and studied her expression tentatively before rebelling at the sadness in her eyes.
"You don't need to do this," he whispered, acknowledging the moment as he drew himself up to be propped up on his outstretched arms above her. "We don't need to do this."
"Yes we do, I need this Dylan," Samantha responded firmly but with an urgency evident in her tone that felt uncomfortable to him as she once again pulled him back down towards her. "I need you; I need to be with you. I need to make this right again," she continued breathlessly, but as he allowed himself to be drawn back into her embrace he could feel the dampness of her cheeks as she buried herself in kissing his neck, observing that silent tears were sliding from her eyes.
"It shouldn't be about what you need, it should be about what you want," Dylan answered, turning her earlier words back around on her and once again releasing himself from her grasp, an act which took almost all of his self-control given the feeling that was stirring deep inside him. "Believe me, I want this more than you can imagine. In fact most nights, I barely think about anything else," he explained truthfully. "But we can't do this just to fix things, because we both know it doesn't work like that and tomorrow I guarantee that you will regret this. You never wanted our relationship to be characterised by a one night stand from way back then, so the last thing I want is for us to repeat that now before you up and leave next week," he continued. "I don't want you to have any more reason to hate either of us."
"Get off me," Samantha stated loudly, with anger evidently seething through her as Dylan found himself knocked sideways as she pulled herself from underneath him. "Just get the hell off me and get out."
"I'm not going anywhere," he countered simply and calmly, despite his own emotional turmoil, but clutching hold of her arm regardless to stop her from fleeing the room as he considered how desperate her craving to be with him once more to put the past behind them appeared to be. "I made that mistake twice before, once at the start and once when you strayed, and I let us just fall apart. It doesn't matter how many different ways you try and self-destruct I am not going to walk away, not this time," he justified, recalling with horror the look on her face when she had informed him of her fling just before she announced her imminent departure to Afghanistan the last time around. "The night I proposed to you, when we first spent the night together properly as a couple, you told me that you would only ever have sex for love, never if it was meaningless or based on anger or sadness alone. It's why it hurt so much when you cheated on me and why I couldn't find the words to tell you about Zoe," Dylan added earnestly, inwardly noting how grateful he was to Tom for not escalating things with Samantha when he had been given the chance to and the significant amount of respect he had for the man for his extreme self-control, something Dylan himself was struggling with given the physical effect being so close to his wife had always had on him. "You can't lash out at me by sleeping with me; you can't make me hate you."
"Stop it, just stop it," Samantha shouted at him and attempted to wriggled free from his grasp to remove herself from the bed, but in spite of his wish not to frighten her Dylan found himself wrestling her back into his arms, albeit this time facing away from him as they sat intertwined on the now ruffled bedclothes. "Stop it," she screamed once more, before he felt her go limp and he watched as his wife collapsed into hysterical sobs in his embrace.
"Ssssshhhh, it's alright," Dylan whispered in her ear as he laid her back down only this time purely with care and tenderness as he drew the duvet around the two of them and held her close into him, feeling her shake as she cried uncontrollably. "I'm not going anywhere, I'm right here," he added comfortingly, stroking her hair and rocking her gently.
The familiar bark of his canine drew Dylan's attention towards the doorway and as he looked up Nick Jordan and Zoe both barrelled into the room accompanied by the dog, obviously drawn there by the terrified scream that Samantha had exhibited only seconds beforehand. The expression on Zoe's face said all that Dylan needed to know about how this situation could be perceived to an outsider, in fact as he looked down even Dervla looked vaguely frightened by the circumstances in the room. However it was the face of Samantha's new paternal figure, and Dylan's own boss and earlier confidante, that concerned him the most. Nick Jordan's face was filled with a thunder that Dylan could only describe as intimidating and as he considered the scene the man had just walked in on, having apparently come back from fetching food to find his already devastated daughter substitute in panic-stricken tears under the bedcovers with her semi-dressed ex-husband, he could well understand why. Dylan's only main thought though was that of everyone he knew, it would be Nick who understood more than any other that what Samantha needed was to confront and deal with her demons once and for all, and he could only hope that the cathartic nature of the frankest discussion of their entire marriage would give her, and himself, the release from the shackles of the past they both needed to allow themselves to start over afresh.
Sam Nicholls
Sam pounded the pavement that ran alongside the shops before turning sharply to enter the park and started to run across the uneven surface of the grassy field. The early morning light had always been her favourite time to be out, even when she had been living with Dylan, as it was bright enough to make running alone seem a viably safe option but was early enough that the streets, paths and parks that made up any town were close to deserted. She recalled momentarily how some days she had struggled to drag herself from the warmth of her marital bed in the past, preferring instead to stay cosily tucked up in her husband's arms, but how on the occasions where her sense of duty towards her physical fitness had overridden her desire to stay by his side, she had always run a great deal faster to be back before Dylan awoke from his slumber. She brought a fleeting smile to her face as she briefly reflected back on the cold winter mornings when she had ventured outside only to jump back under the duvet almost as soon as she returned, having peeled off her running gear immediately on entering the bedroom, and had woken up her husband with her freezing presence beside him. Those had been the days that they had both always gone to work with a smile on their face, having spent the subsequent hour after her return finding increasingly inventive ways to warm each other up, an act which they had almost perfected into an art form over the years.
Sam knew that she never planned her daily runs usually but today she was aware of her mind consciously choosing to take a longer than normal route around the Holby area. Pounding the pavements of this town had been one of her only regular pastimes since she had arrived several months before and the few days she was medically incapable of running recently notwithstanding, she had been out at least every second day and until her assault had been averaging over twenty miles a week. Ever since she was a little girl she had been interested in being outdoors and her physical fitness, something she assumed she drew from her childhood on army bases and wanting to impress her father with her prowess. However it had only been since her mother's death that she had learned to take comfort in the freedom and space she achieved as she pushed herself to the limits of her capabilities and close to the point of exhaustion. She considered that she had never been one to take things lightly and a gentle jog around the scenic parts of whatever town she had lived in had never been her idea of a good time, but instead it was more her style to take what should be casual exercise to excess, giving her the ability to focus on nothing more than the ground beneath her feet and shut out the problems in her life for a while.
The music in her ears was loud enough to drown out the sounds of the world around her but despite this she had yet to find the strength to force thoughts of her behaviour the previous day and night from her mind. She recalled every second of the horror in the aftermath of her assault on Mr Ellis, her failed suicide attempt, her absolute breakdown in Nick Jordan's arms and the shame she felt at how she had so recklessly thrown herself into Dylan's embrace despite his protestations to the contrary. In the cold light of morning when she had woken up sprawled across her ex-husband and almost mummified in her duvet her initial thoughts had been on how mortified she was at not only having cried so hysterically in front of others, more than once she noted uneasily, but at the scene she could just about recall Nick and Zoe witnessing as they had entered the room on hearing her screams. To be caught out in bed with her husband by those two would have been an odd enough situation for her to deal with at the best of times, given Nick's fatherly influence over her and Dylan's own recent liaison with Dr Hanna, but that was before she considered that she had been in hysterical floods and a half dressed Dylan had practically been pinning her down as she unravelled for the second time in a matter of hours.
However despite her displeasure at how badly the events of the previous day had ended for her, she felt a strange sense of relief that she had finally broken through the emotional barrier that she had erected when she had chosen to throw her marriage away and she was oddly encouraged that she had been able to elucidate some of her darkest thoughts to either Nick or Dylan over the course of the evening. In fact if she was honest with herself, in a way that she would never admit to another living soul, there was only one thing that she regretted about the previous day and unsurprisingly to her it was not beating Mr Ellis as hard as she could nor downing the pills, as both of these had actions had provoked her into thinking things through in a way she had not been able to before. Less predictably to her, the thing she regretted was also not opening up to Nick Jordan so candidly about her relationship with Dylan, her mother's death or Ash's assault on her, as she had found being able to say the words aloud an odd sort of comfort.
In truth the only act of the day she actually had cause to lament was how she had once more destabilised her relationship with her husband, only this time she had waited until not only they had reached a mutual understanding but also when he was at his most emotionally vulnerable. That she had chosen that very moment to seek a physical comfort from him and had therefore destroyed the very fragile acceptance of circumstances they had achieved with one desperate desire to feel close to him was unforgivable in her eyes. She also couldn't help but reflect that it had been her usually emotionally incompetent ex-husband who had spotted what she was doing before she had even thought it through herself and had questioned why she was attempting to have sex with him when on all previous occasions their connection had been wholeheartedly about the act of making love.
Despite all her longstanding issues over the circumstances surrounding their first night together Sam was well aware that this connection had been more than just meaningless sex, even if at the time it had felt like just that and following their engagement she had waited until after their first proper night together to explain to Dylan the difference between meaningless fling or emotional sex and the connection between two people in love. She knew she had acted hastily to break up her marriage in the past by deliberately seeking out something Dylan would know she never would have wanted if she had been happy and whilst that had been bad enough, she had never thought before that she would come close to jeopardising the intensity of her connection with Dylan by using him as an emotional crutch when what she really needed was for him to just hold her. She recalled how long it had taken her to convince him that the cuddles they had shared before she had been ready to do more than just fall asleep beside him had meant far more than any of her intimate encounters with former boyfriends, but that had been mainly due to his own inexperience of anything other than a physical relationship with his former partner, who in Sam's own opinion had used Dylan for nothing more than casual one night stands on an on-going basis but dressed up as a relationship when that was far from the case. It made Sam feel nauseous that after investing so much time whilst married to Dylan in being close to him that she would risk the meaning behind everything in their past just to get some comfort but all she could hope for was that his halting of proceedings, just as Tom had done only recently also, meant that Dylan had understood not only that she was behaving in a certain way for the wrong reasons but that actually it wasn't that she wanted at all.
Sam headed out of the park exit and crossed the quiet street as she ran back towards her flat but with her mind still very much focused on her husband. When she put her own actions to one side for a moment and thought about how things had appeared from his perspective it still shocked her that Dylan had done the unexpected and laid his heart on the line quite so forcefully, especially as she considered his opening declaration to her had been in front of two of their colleagues. She recalled all the times in the privacy of their own home that the man she loved had dropped his guard but even in their closest of moments Dylan had always been reluctant to discuss how he actually felt and had preferred to focus on the practicalities of dealing with the situation they were in at the time. She knew that her eyes had filled with tears on numerous occasions as they had spoken and that would have happened regardless of his reaction to her words given the emotive nature of their conversation, but it had been seeing her husband's eyes fill with tears and the anguished expression he had tried to keep from his face when she had been looking in his direction that had broken her completely.
Sam considered that although she had grown to accept over the past four years Dylan had actually loved her, she knew that it had only been in her conversation with Nick and then her husband's declarations that had finally forced her to recognise that as much as she knew Dylan was the only man she would ever love, he genuinely appeared to hold her in the same esteem. Despite the shock of finding herself sobbing into his embrace wrapped up under the duvet after her ill-advised attempt to make out with him, as she had finally fallen asleep she had comprehended that even though she had spent the entirety of the last few weeks pushing Dylan away from her, he had remained adamant that he was not going to leave and not only did he appear to mean this, she could see that it came from a place of love rather than responsibility. Sam knew that her husband was doing everything he could to make things better and had proven beyond belief that it mattered to him that she was still hurting. Nonetheless their marital status still remained unresolved and despite it all she couldn't help but consider whether with her return to Afghanistan imminent, it would be better for all concerned if she stayed true to her initial thoughts and walked away for good.
Sam reached the end of the path to her flat and looked up to the window of her room where her sleeping husband was likely to still remain with his ever faithful canine companion at the foot of the bed. She switched off her iPod and pulled her earphones out, taking in the quietness of the street around her in the early morning light. She was certain that whatever happened next she would be fulfilling her commitments to the army and returning for her tour of duty as arranged but was aware that this left her at something of an impasse with the people currently in her life. Given all that had occurred in the previous days she had no job to return to and had burnt more bridges with those she had come to consider friends than she dared to allow herself to remember despite their persistent attempts to look out for her at every possible opportunity.
Nevertheless the concept of returning to Holby after her upcoming departure felt more enticing than she had wanted it to, especially with the likes of Nick, Tom, Scarlett and the paramedics apparently seeming supportive of her regardless of the circumstances she found herself in. It was as if after years of hiding her true feelings from everyone around her she now felt able to be herself once more and finally had been able to draw strength from the support of Dylan and her newfound companions to confront the fears that had remained locked deep inside her for so long. However whilst the freedom she felt at her eventual ability to break free from her self-imposed prison was very real to her, it still felt tarnished by the unresolved issue of her relationship with Dylan.
Sam slowly walked down the path and unlocked the door to her flat as silently as she was able to, not wanting to wake any of the sleeping inhabitants inside with her return. However as she spied Dylan's coat flung across the banister wrapped up with Dervla's lead, seemingly abandoned there in a hurry on their entry the night before, she made the decision that the only way she would be able to return to Holby was if her and Dylan were able to come through on his suggestion to start over again as husband and wife. Sam's fingers flickered out to the familiar jacket and as she touched the material momentarily she wondered whether the cathartic sense of release she felt would give her the strength she needed to finally tell Dylan the one piece of their complicated jigsaw puzzle that she had been keeping from him for so long.
Okay so there we go and I promsise the next update will not be so long this time around. This fic is now heading towards a conclusion although there are a few little twists still to come, which I hope you will enjoy.
Anyway, thank you for reading and if you liked it (or even if you didn't!) I would welcome your comments and reviews.
Thank you. Callie x