Chapter 80

The broken locks were a warning, you got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead

"R-r-robin" Patrick stammered.

His head started to swirl and his knees shake as he stared at her. His hand tightened around the doorknob as he tried to stay upright.

"Hi" she said softly, with a watery smile.

She was stunned at his appearance; it was far worse than she had imagined. She now understand Noah's devastation. Reaching out to take his hand, she was surprised that he backed away from her.

His hand flew to his face, covering the feeding tube in his nose. "You...you shouldn't be here," he told her hoarsely, continuing to back into the apartment.

Stepping over the threshold Robin closed the door behind her, never taking her eyes from her boyfriend. She walked to him and gently curled her fingers around his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face.

"I love you" she stated, her brown eyes filled to the brim with tears. "I love you and I am going to be by your side through all of this."

"No" he replied with a shake of his head.

He groped behind him for something to hold on to as he was not convinced his legs would keep him upright for much longer. He closed his eyes as Robin took him by the elbow and guided him to the couch. He could smell her scent - rosemary and mint from her shampoo with a light dusting of freesia. It set his heart racing and made him want to lose himself in her.

Once she had settled him she sat down next to him allowing little space between them. She could see him fidget and knew he was uncomfortable. But she also knew that he was uncomfortable not because he didn't want her next to him, touching him but because he did. Her entire body was turned towards him and she trailed her fingertips along his shoulder. She tried not to be distracted by how close his collar bone was to the surface, at how small he felt as she touched him.

"Either you are coming home with me or I am staying here with you. Whatever your choice, we are done being apart." Her tone was loving and gentle; she could feel his pain and his fear seeping from him.

"You can't be here," he repeated, not looking at her.

"Tough. Walking out is acceptable, giving up is not," she reminded him.

Patrick clenched and unclenched his fist. He was awash in conflicting emotions and as his eyes welled with tears, he struggled for the last vestiges of control available to him. Turning to face her, his bottom lip quivering he shook his head. "Robin - look at me. You cannot...you cannot want to be a part of this."

Taking his left hand in between both of hers, she rubbed it softly. "I do" she said. "Living without you is unbearable. And so I'm going to be with you no matter how hard this gets. Your feeding tube doesn't scare me, your tremors don't scare me and your tumour doesn't scare me. Being without you when I know you need me and I need you - that scares me."

The first tear sailed down his cheek and landed on his jeans. It was followed by several more that Robin swiped away. "My surgery is booked for Thursday" he told her. She was still holding his hand and Patrick felt imbued with warmth. He had been so cold for so long but sitting with her, feeling her touch again, made him feel warm.

"Are you scared?"

He gave a small shrug. He wasn't sure if he was afraid but he knew he exhausted - tired of the pain, the uncertainty and growing loss of his independance. "I don't want to live like this anymore" he whispered.

She gently massaged his hand helping to unknot the cramp that had formed in the centre of his palm. "Then Thursday will be a new beginning and you won't have to live like this." As the various scenarios of what could happen to him rolled through his head, he pulled his hand from her and shifted on the couch - a move that did not go unnoticed by Robin.

"Patrick, it is time to stop pushing me away," she told him strongly.

"Robin please" he begged. "I don't want you to see this - you don't need this in your life."

"You're right." She shifted towards him. "I don't. Neither do you but regardless of our need or lack of need for the situation, this is happening. And so we're going to deal with it - together."

Having run out of couch, he got unsteadily to his feet and paced as best he could. "Why won't you respect what I want?" he snapped at her. "Why is what I want so unimportant to you?"

She stayed perfectly still and held his gaze. "What you want is very important to me." Her tone was calm yet defiant. "The problem here Patrick is that you aren't saying what it is you want. What you want is to live - you want to come through the surgery with none of the potential side effects and you want me by your side. The thing is, you won't say any of that because you're afraid if you say what it is that you really want, you won't get it."

"You're wrong" he challenged her, shoving his hand into his pocket.

"Am I? You don't think I know why you are doing this?"

"I am trying to protect you!" he shouted. "I am doing this for YOU!"

"No you're not," she rebuked him gently. "You are trying to protect yourself."

Feeling weak, he sank on to the arm of the chair and dragged a hand through his thinning hair. "Robin," he whispered.

Robin rose from the couch and walked over to where he sat. She stood in front of him running her hands along his thighs. "I heard you Patrick - that day on the pier after I went to my first group meeting? You told me what it was like for you to be a child of an addict. You said it was an isolating experience and that you kept people at bay so they wouldn't discover the truth. That's what you're doing now. You want me to stay away so I won't see how scared and weak and sick you are. But that doesn't work because whether or not you and I are in the same building, same city or same state, we are connected - in here," she tapped his heart.

Several tears slid down his cheeks as he looked at her. It had been an enormous leap of faith on his part to open his heart to her; he had shared things with her that no one else in his life knew. She had a way of drawing him out, giving him the space and security he needed to be honest with his feelings and every time he took that chance, he was rewarded for it. He had never been loved the way she loved him.

Short of breath and with a tremulous hand, he cupped her cheek and ran his thumb along her smooth skin. Dipping his head, his lips went in search of hers and as their mouths connected in a warm, soft kiss he could feel their tears intermingle. It was a kiss he had been dreaming about every night and with most things, the reality far exceeded the fantasy. Sliding his arms around her, he pulled her to him and buried his face in her neck. Breathing in her scent, he whispered her name over and over again.

Robin rubbed her hands over his back, soothing and comforting him. The wait to hold him again, to feel his body against hers once more, had been interminable. But now that she had him she was never going to let him go. She had never doubted her feelings for him or how truly special the love they shared was but there was reassurance in holding him, there was confirmation in touching him and there was hope in his kiss.

"R-robin" he said breathlessly, "I have to t-tell you..." He inhaled sharply, greedily sucking in air. "I need you t-to know-"

She could feel his body shake and though she suspected what was coming, she was ill-prepared as he crashed to the floor. His body writhed and twisted, gripped by painful spasms. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he shook violently. The seizure was over quickly and as Robin sank to her knees, her heart was suddenly encased in ice.

Patrick was not breathing.