Just a kind of interlude from Zoe's POV... sorry it's a bit short. Enjoy! x
Sometimes, life is so sweet, isn't it? It's blissful to fall asleep with my head on Max's chest, his arms tight around me and wake up still snuggled up to him. That's when it's easy… when it's easy to forget, and just be us, me and him, two people crazy in love.
But it's not always that easy. What I've been through in the last few weeks… It might not sound like much, but I don't think you'll ever understand if you've never been there. And I wouldn't want anyone else to go there. It's tough, so tough. And I've had my beautiful Max, who has been more than I could ever ask of him. I kiss his chest as he sleeps in silent recognition of his love and consideration for me.
Sometimes I think this whole thing has been more tough on him than on me. I know he feels bad for not being there to protect me, to stop it happening. Daft thing. I wish that he could understand that it wasn't his fault. Not even slightly. He's tried so hard to keep me going, I smile to myself in the darkness. That holiday in Venice, the first holiday I've been on and not got drunk? What's the boy done to me? I wonder. Made me happy, that's what. For the first time in a long time, I feel like a person and not just a doctor. He was right, as usual. I wouldn't admit it, but sometimes, just sometimes, having a life might be more important than running myself ragged to save them.
At this time of the night (I don't want to know the time), I look over to Max, his face turned towards me, all screwed up, his arm lightly flung over me. I shuffle a bit closer to his chest and press my face in, his body moving to accommodate me, his arm tightening around me. I can hear his heart beating, and gently trace it with my fingers. Although I hate not being able to sleep, I love these quiet moments just to think about things that aren't medicine.
He's been so good to me. He told me he'd wait for me for as long as it took. The problem is, how long can I wait? The thought of sleeping with someone again thrills and terrifies me in equal measure. I know that Max would never push me; he's always so gentle, but I don't know if I'm ready yet. He pretends it doesn't matter and I know that in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't. I trust him enough to know he's not going to leave me… or go elsewhere and for that I am so grateful. I don't need sex, I really don't. Once upon a time, Zoe Hanna couldn't imagine thinking that. The truth is, it's the intimacy I miss. Sometimes a hug just isn't enough.
I smile at him again and gently kiss his neck. And then I remember. What about the baby growing inside of me? I'd forgotten. How could I forget about my child? After we'd done the test yesterday, we sat in silence on the sofa. Max had bundled me into his jumper. I realise I'm still wearing it now. I must have fallen asleep in it. We'd sat on the sofa, just thinking. My head was resting against Max's shoulder and I could feel him kissing the top of my head occasionally. His arms were wrapped around me, his hands found their way to the bare skin of my belly and had gently started stroking the skin there.
How did I get lucky enough to find someone not only willing to accept the situation, but to embrace it? He'd whispered to me about how it was all going to be OK, and how we'd be a proper family (What's one of those?!) If I'm being honest, he's sort of convinced me that it will be fine. But what if every time I look at my son or daughter I'm reminded of that man, of what happened?
I trust Max, really, I do, but there are some things that even he can't change.
"What are you doing awake?" He asks me through shut eyes and with a groggy voice. "Thinking", I tell him.
He picks my hand up and strokes it, kissing my forehead. I know he knows what I'm thinking about and suddenly I have no words, nothing to say. "Zo, you know we had sex the night before…? He could be mine" Max tries to reassure me. In all the drama, I'd totally forgotten that was a possibility.
"Max…" I ignore this and instead tell him that I want to be with him. At first he is confused, assuring me that we are together. And then he gets that I mean 'together'.
He slides his hands inside his jumper that I'm wearing. My cold back shivers against the heat of his hands. He hasn't replied, but instead kisses my nose, searching my eyes, as though there was some secret waiting to be revealed.
"Are you sure? Like, really sure? I don't want to push you, and I don't want you to feel like you need to…" He trails off, and I speak "Max, I need to do this. We need to do this. So that I can forget. That I know that sex is something lovely", I squeeze his hand "that shows love, not anger, aggression". He nods at me as though this makes sense, and I hope it does. "One condition". He tells me. "What?" "That you promise, and I mean promise, to stop me if it gets too much". I nod and kiss his lips, hoping that it tells him everything I can't express. He reciprocates, but then looks at me to check I'm OK.
Our love making is slow. Slower than it's ever been before, we take our time to love and to enjoy. To make happy, comforting memories. And as I lie in Max's arms afterwards, his fingers drifting around my belly button, I think about how far I've come, and how this night is a line. A line that means we're past the worst. I'm never going to be without it, but together, we can move forward. We have to move forward for the sake of the little one, I think as my fingers join Max's on my stomach. He kisses the side of my head, a reminder that he's always been there and he always will be there.