Chapter 129

I'll find my way back to you, if you'll be waiting

Robin's eyes widened in shock, her mouth agape. Her attempts to form a coherent thought failed. "Wh-what did you say?"

Patrick's stomach rumbled nervously and with a shaky hand he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Swallowing thickly, he spoke again. "M-m-marry m-me" he stammered.

"Patrick-" she began hoarsely.

A small sense of panic swept through him. Leaps of faith were not his strong suit. Despite all of his bravado of living in the moment and taking risks, everything he did was always calculated. In the OR and in life he hated leaving anything to chance. His heart had moved faster than his brain and in an instant he had put a question into the ether that would fundamentally change their relationship. Even if he wanted to, there was no taking it back.

He pulled himself to a sitting position and ran his hands over his face. The sheets pooled around his hips and he chewed on his bottom lip as he tried to piece together a sentence. It was one of the most frustrating aspects of his aphasia; he often had to try to fit the words in his mouth before saying them out loud. "I kn-know not rom-m-mantic," he stuttered, his cheeks flushing a deep red as he did so, "but want to m-marry you."

Inhaling sharply, Robin swung her feet to the floor and moved to get off the bed. Patrick reached for her hand and tugged her back. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled reassuringly. "I'm just going to get my robe," she told him. "I'll be right back."

She could feel Patrick's eyes on her as she walked to the closet. Her heart was thumping so ferociously she was sure it was going to leap right out of her chest. As she yanked the robe from the hanger, she took another deep breath in an attempt to steady herself. Sliding into the cool silk she tied the belt twice around her waist before heading back to bed.

While the robe gave her a bit of stall time it was mostly just a chance for her to cover up. Swept up in the moment with Patrick it was possible to let her defences down and forget the very physical reminders of her disease but with the moment over, her embarrassment and discomfort with them came roaring back. She hated feeling so exposed, even with her boyfriend.

Sliding back on the bed, she slipped her legs under the covers and smoothed the comforter over her hips before meeting Patrick's expectant gaze. She smiled nervously.

"I love you" she stated unequivocally. "In all my life I have never loved anyone as I love you."

Feelings of dread started to pile up inside him, one on top of the other and he swallowed down the bitter disappointment that had anchored itself in his throat.

"B-but?" he prodded, almost shrinking from the answer.

Turning on to her side she reached for his hand interlaced her fingers through his. "I don't think we're in any position to get married," she told him as gently as she could. She still couldn't quite believe that he asked her but the minute she heard the question, everything inside her said no.

With his mouth feeling as though stuffed with cotton, Patrick reached for the board he was coming to despise and wrote:

Because I left.

Robin nodded. "And because I lied" she added softly. "Because we're still in the middle of a harrowing time and life altering decisions shouldn't be made like this."

Patrick shook his head in disagreement. No. It is harrowing times that show us what is important. You are what is important. And I want to marry you.

Cupping his face she gave him a watery smile. "Patrick," she sighed. "When I read the letter you wrote me I was so filled with love for you that I would have done anything to be with you. It's an intoxicating feeling to read words like that-"

Having furiously scribbled on the board, he shoved it at her. So you aren't normally filled with love for me? His brown eyes echoed the hurt he felt from her words.

"That's not what I'm saying" she said firmly, handing the board back to him. "I have so much love for you that I don't know what to do with it at times. I have so much love for you."

He looked down at their hands joined together and sat still for several moments before picking up the pen again. Did you mean what you wrote in your letter?

"Did you?"

"Every w-w-word."

"Me too" she whispered, bringing his hand to her lips.

Then I don't understand.

"We're not ready." Seeing the incredulous look on his face and knowing she should not speak for him, she amended her answer. "I'm not ready."

Letting her hand drop, Patrick pushed back the covers and rose, unsteadily, to his feet. Picking his jeans from the floor and stepping into them, he hopped as he pulled them up his legs. He couldn't quite explain it but he suddenly felt...naked. It was as far out as he had ever put himself and he suddenly felt small. It didn't occur to him that she would say no, then again he was not entirely sure it occured to him she would say yes either. For such a monumental question there had been decidedly little forethought.

Robin looked at him in disbelief. He was going to run again. And that only proved to her that they had no business getting married - not yet. They could not and should not get married until they were able to stand still - to willingly stand still. As he pulled his t-shirt over his head she was struck by the notion that regardless of how intimate they had been moments earlier as soon as the discussion took a difficult and uncomfortable turn they both covered themselves; as though the more honest the conversation the more armour they needed. She sighed heavily and waited for him to walk out the door.

Her mouth dropped open when he crawled back onto the bed.

What do you need to be ready? he wrote, What can I do?

She shook her head, discovering yet again that it was never wise to underestimate her boyfriend. Moving closer to him, she snuggled up against him and dropped a kiss on his shoulder. "I have a lot to figure out Patrick" she began slowly. "Intellectually I understand why you left but emotionally I can't reconcile it yet. And I need to come to terms with the lies I told you about my health. When I -" she paused to correct herself, "when we get married, I want to have a clear head and a clear heart and I don't have either at the moment."

Seeing the worried look creeping across his face she ran her fingertips along the back of his cheek. "My heart is clear about loving you," she reassured him, "but I want it to be clear about my intentions in everything I do."

I'm sorry I left, he wrote, kissing her forehead.

"Patrick it's not just about you leaving - part of it is about who you and I are when we get shit scared. You kept the news about your tumour from me because you wanted to protect me and you left when things were at their worst because you wanted to protect me. I hid the truth about my health from you because I wanted to protect you and I didn't tell you about you leaving even though you suspected something had happened because I thought you couldn't handle it. The truth is when either of us gets backed into a corner we want to protect the other and wind up doing the one thing guaranteed to hurt each other."

He ran his hand over his face. She was right and he knew it. It was a strange contradiction they both shared - they trusted each other with everything but the minute things got difficult they stopped trusting themselves and the consequences for the other were enormous. He was not remotely surprised when Robin revealed that he had kept his tumour a secret. If someone had asked him if he consciously considered himself a runner, he would have said no but it was clear now that he was and Robin knew it too. If they were going to make a life long commitment, she would need to trust that he would be there when she needed him.

Closing his arms around her, he drew her against him and kissed her softly.

Feeling the warmth in his kiss, Robin fisted his shirt and curled into him further, closing her hands over his arms. "There's something else we need to talk about when we talk about marriage" she said quietly.

"Wh-what?"

Clearing her suddenly thick throat, she answered, "My health." Tilting his head ot the side Patrick gave her a curious look. "Patrick, I come with complications. And maybe in a few weeks or a few months you are going to realize that you don't want to make a lifetime commitment to someone who only has a short lifetime to offer." Her voice was tentative and she had difficulty meeting his eyes.

"Robin" he whispered.

She soothingly rubbed his forearm. "We're not going to have decades Patrick. Ours wouldn't be a marriage measured in anniversaries-"

"M-m-measured in l-love" he interjected.

Smiling, she sucked in her bottom lip. "I am likely....Patrick you will be a widower at a young age - like your father."

He swiped at the few tears that leaked from his eyes. His throat felt as though it was closing over and words pooled, unspoken, in his throat. Snapping up the pen he wrote:

It would be worth it.

Inhaling sharply, Robin buried her head in his chest. "I'm not ready" came her muffled cry. "I'm sorry - I'm just....I'm not ready."

Tightening his arms around her, he sank down into the bed and kissed the top of her cheek. "Okay" he whispered.

Raising her head, her eyes shining brightly with unspilled tears, Robin offered a watery smile. "Promise me, you'll ask me again. I don't know when - I will be ready because I love you but just...promise you'll ask me again."

He nodded. "I w-will."

As he absently stroked her arm he thought to himself that he would ask her as many times as it took for her to say yes.