She sniffled in the lamp light at her desk, holding her head in one hand and staring at a receipt in the other.
Jason materialized out of the darkness and strode over, wearing the ski mask. "Sweetheart, it's eleven o'clock. I told you to not work past five. You're still getting better...Emma? What's wrong?" He walked around the desk and knelt beside her chair. His hand rubbed her back.
"A bike receipt." She gave a watery laugh. "Dad got me a bike for my sixth birthday. I was so scared I'd fall without training wheels. And I did, but he carried me up the driveway and held my hand while Mom cleaned my knee."
He rubbed her arm.
"Does it get better?" She sniffled and looked down at him.
"It does, love. I didn't miss my father much because I didn't know him, but I still miss my mother sometimes. After awhile you'll think of him without crying. And then you'll be able to talk about him. The ache never goes away, but it gets better." The gentleness in his voice carried through the darkness. "Come, sweetheart. Let's get your mind on something else before bed." He stood and helped her up. Then he wiped her tears and led her upstairs.
She leaned her head against his shoulder as she walked down the hall on his arm and interlaced their fingers. His hands were almost twice as wide and his fingers nearly two digits longer than hers. Funny how his hands had never stood out before. They had the strength and power to do such damage, yet they only made flourish whatever they touched. "Is your eye doing alright?"
"It is, love."
Rubbing her head, she frowned. "How many more days until the dental appointment?"
"Tomorrow, but you don't have to come. You're working so hard."
Lifting her head, she looked up at him. "Tomorrow? Did I work through the weekend?" The days must have flown past.
"You did. Remember we were going to watch a movie Saturday night?" He gave a forgiving smile.
"Why didn't you get me? Oh, Jason, I'm sorry."
He shrugged. "I did. You said you'd come in a minute three times."
"I must not have been paying attention because I don't remember that."
His hand patted hers on his arm. "It's alright. It's my own fault for pressing you into the job."
"Let's watch one tomorrow night..." Her voice trailed away. "Nevermind. You might not be up for a movie. Are you nervous?"
He cracked a smile. "Would it be normal to not be nervous?"
She nibbled her lip. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really." He led her to the arboretum doors and pushed it open.
Her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, Jason," she whispered. Dozens of chinese lanterns glowed from the trees and ceiling, their electric tealights flickering and casting a soft golden glow on the flowers below. The stone walkway sparkled in the candlelight. Moonlight Serenade music played. She turned to Jason and couldn't stop smiling.
He smiled and turned up the volume on his phone before tucking it in his pocket. Then he held out his hand with a smile. When she took it, he pulled her in and held her close. He took slow, relaxing steps in time to the music, mostly dancing in one spot.
She rested her head on his chest. The light weight of his cheek resting on her head seemed so comforting. She loved this calmness about him. He knew how to escape the stresses of life and take her into this world of peace. Closing her eyes, she let the music sweep them away.
"Do you like this song?" His voice was low and quiet, as relaxed as she felt.
"Mmm," she sighed. "It's like what love feels like."
"I think of you whenever I hear it. It's so soothing, like you," he whispered. "Would you want it to be our song, Emma?"
A smile lit up her heart. "It's perfect," she whispered. He must have had it on repeat because it started over. She could listen to it all day. It made her slightly sleepy. "Jason? Do you have another mask besides the plastic one?"
"Just this one, love. Does it bother you?" A hint of worry colored his voice.
"It covers so much of your face that it scares me if I see you in the middle of the night. It's like I could be talking to a stranger and wouldn't know," she sighed, half way to slumberland.
"If more of the mask was cut away, would that help?"
She nodded and stifled a yawn.
"Keep your eyes closed, sweetheart."
His body shifted, and his head lifted for a minute. Then his mask brushed her back as he tucked it in his hand. His left cheek rested on her head again, this time his heat seeping into her hair.
She melted, for some reason feeling so close to him without the mask; that he trusted her enough to do this. "I love you," she whispered, her heart never so peacefully content.
"I love you, sweetheart."
"This is so perfect." She yawned again.
"Oh, sweetheart. Let's get you to bed."
"Just a few more minutes." The motion and music hypnotized her into a light slumber, the beating of his heart so calming. Her body grew heavier until her feet no longer moved. Only distantly aware of everything, her body lifted in Jason's arms. He cradled her and she nuzzled against his broad chest as he carried her toward the door. Sleep claimed her two steps later.
A horrified scream ripped through the haze of slumber and right into her ear opposite of Jason's chest. She startled hard and so did Jason. Her eyes flew open, with a heart beating a hundred miles a minute. Her mom stood in the doorway with scared eyes looking right past her. Oh god, Jason didn't have the mask on. She wiggled out of his arms at the same moment he half dropped her to her feet. Dashing to her mom, she shoved her back out the door and pulled it shut behind her so Jason could get the mask back on alone inside.
Her mom's chest heaved, panic frozen in her eyes.
She closed her eyes and buried her hands in her face. This didn't just happen. All the trust she'd earned from him the past weeks was broken in one instant. He'd pull away. It suddenly struck what life must be like for him; how cruel the world could be even when it didn't mean to. Tears pooled in her eyes.
"Emma, I'm so sorry. I didn't know what to expect exactly-"
"I know." Her voice broke, and she walked down the hall to lean against the wall and wrap her arms around herself.
The arboretum door groaned open. "Jason, I'm so sorry. I-"
"It's alright," he said quietly, sounding completely understanding. "I was walking Emma to bed."
Her mom walked over and set a hand on her shoulder. She kept her head down. If her mom saw the tears, she'd feel even more guilty. "It's alright. Everyone's tired, Mama." Her voice rang hollow. Her mom went down the hall.
A strong hand touched her back. She turned into his chest and let the sobs come.
"That's why I don't want you to see, Emma. I couldn't handle it if that sound came from you," he whispered. What her mom had done didn't seem to hurt him; it was the thought of her being that terrified of him herself that did. He walked her to the bedroom.
Jason smiled. "I love you, Emma."
She beamed with happiness and let him slide her wedding dress off her shoulders. She stood naked before him, and his eyes feasted.
"Beautiful." He sighed, seeming so captivated with his new wife.
She flushed and shyly stepped forward to strip him. Oh heavens, he was beautiful. Then she looked up at the ski mask.
He slowly nodded.
Pulling it off, blood began to trickle down her hand. She looked up at his bare face and screamed in horror. His burn was fresh and bloody, his cheek just shreds of burned skin threading his top and bottom jaw together and leaving gaping holes of teeth exposed. His eye hung by a thread, staring and bloody from a muscle-covered socket. Then he touched his face and looked down at his bloody hand. A scream of horror ripped out of his throat.
She screamed and shot up in bed. Prince jumped to his feet on the mattress and automatically growled at the door. Her eyes tore around the empty room. The fire burned bright in the fireplace, its heat keeping the chill at bay. Her chest heaved and hands shook. It seemed so real but must've been a dream. She needed to go make sure he was alright. Grabbing a flashlight, she banked the fire and then ran down the hall trying to outdistance the shadows. Prince chased at her heels. Darting into his room, she saw the lump of a form under blankets in the firelight. "Jason?" Her voice shook and he didn't move. She crept in and kept her eyes diverted, half afraid it hadn't been a dream. Shaking his leg, she turned so her back was to him. "Jason."
He drew a deep breath and shifted. "Emma?" SLet thickened his voice. He sat up, his leg slipping away from under her hand.
"I had a nightmare that you were bleeding from getting burned." Her voice broke. Prince turned in three circles and dropped down on a rug to sleep.
"The ski mask is on. I'm fine, sweetheart. Come here."
She turned. He was shirtless and wearing the mask, with an arm outstetched. Scrambling on the bed, she cuddled up to his side.
"Love, did your mother's reaction scare you?"
Hesitating for a moment, she finally nodded. "And I'm scared of how much pain you had that they kept you sedated for so long." She wept on his shoulder.
"Emma, I was knocked out when the beam fell on me in the fire. I remember feeling the force of the impact, but nothing else until I woke up three days later. They'd already done the brain surgery to rebuild my skull. I felt very little pain in my face because the nerves were burned off. My shoulder and the edges of the burns on my head hurt the worst because they were second degree. I was mostly comfortable, though. They gave high doses of morphine for a few days, and cold rags worked wonders. I was comfortable enough that I could focus on feeling sorry for myself for the first week."
She sniffled. "But you said you got scared of doctors and nurses because they brought pain."
He reclined back farther in the pillows until her head rested on his shoulder. "The dressing changes hurt, but I didn't cry or scream from them. Sweetheart, I was sedated for the worst of it. What hurt the most were the broken bones. Even that wasn't so bad."
"Liar."
He brushed away her tears. "You wound me, Emma." His voice rang melodramatic.
It didn't win a laugh from her. She wrapped an arm around his chest. "Jason?" She swallowed hard.
"Be honest with me." He stroked her arm.
"Now I'm scared that I'll be scared if I do see the burns." Her face crumpled. "I don't want to do that to you." She broke down in tears.
"Emma, oh my goodness, I think you're overtired." His voice held so much compassion. "Let's think about this. Trudy and Pete have seen me without a mask, the dentist, several nurses and doctors at the hospital...they didn't all scream in horror. If someone knows what to expect, they just startle or look shocked. If for some reason you do ever see, I don't expect you to not have any kind of reaction. That just wouldn't be normal."
"But you said you wouldn't torture your wife by letting her see you and then bed her. You're still you, not some monster."
"You're right. I am worried that, given your history, your mind might play tricks on you, though. We don't know how well you may or may not handle having sex, and then throw in the other factors, it could be a bad set up. What you went through was horrible. The fact that you get these panic hallucinations...Emma, I promise you'd have a panic attack seeing my face if I'm on top of you when making love. That would be extremely hard for you to recover from, and I don't know that you'd ever be able to fully trust me again. Fear will try to win you over from me. It's a road I won't take you down, Emma."
He was right. She might have flashbacks during sex as it is. But hope flickered that he was talking about marrying her. "Will you ever kiss me again without the mask?" Her fingers stroked the sprinkling of hair on his chest.
"In time, love." He kissed the top of her head. "Do you want to sleep in here?"
She nodded on his shoulder. "Doesn't the mask get hot, though?"
He slipped out from under her and pulled a second layer of drapes. "It itches more than anything. Will you be alright if I bank the fire and sleep with the mask off? The room will be dark. I'll set the alarm so I put the mask back on at sunrise."
He wouldn't sleep well, being half awake worried she might see him. He needed rest for the oral surgery tomorrow. "Yes, but I can sleep in my room." She got up and padded to the door, although her heart ached to stay with him. In the dark with him didn't frighten her like in the firelight alone.
Strong arms wrapped around her waist. "Stay with me," he whispered against her neck.
Leaning her head back against his shoulder and closing her eyes, she reveled in his embrace. With a nod, she stroked his thick arms around her.
"Hop in bed. We'll have to keep each other warm without a fire." While he doused the fire and left the door cracked open a couple inches, she burrowed under the blankets still warm from his body.
Pitch blackness enveloped them. The bed shifted from his weight. "Are you alright in the dark?"
"Yeah." When his arm curled around her, she scooted back against his chest. Something hard poked her bottom.
He pulled his hips back. "My apologies. It's a reaction to you in my bed. I'll be a gentleman." He sounded a bit embarrassed. His speech had a slight whispiness to it with certain words. It must be because there was no mask to act as the missing part of his lip.
She flushed and smiled. "I'm glad you want me," she whispered, suddenly shy. Then she relaxed against him, the hardness of his desire comforting and a reminder he'd protect her as his.
"Oh god, Emma, I can't sleep like this," he groaned, sounding like he was in agony. The poor man rolled onto his back.
"Then shut up and make love to me." A smile tugged at her lips, and she didn't turn to face him. She shouldn't goad him, but it was a bit fun having him want her so bad.
He gave a soft swat to her bottom through the blankets. "Sassy girl." A smile tinted his voice. "Do not tempt me, Emma. You don't know how much restraint it requires to not bed you."
She rolled over to rest her head on his shoulder, and he accomodated by tucking his arm around her. "Are you tired?"
His rich chuckle vibrated through the darkness. "Have you been paying attention at all the last five minutes? I'll be lucky if I sleep tonight." Then he fell silent. "You still haven't commented on my speech."
"Should I?" she countered.
"It be natural to."
She sighed. He wasn't going to let this go. "Fine. It's better than I thought it'd be, to the point of not being able to tell except for certain words. I see no need for a comment or discussion about it. Does that appease you, Dr. Port?"
His chest bounced with a silent laugh. "Yes."
The hard planes of his torso beckoned her touch until she stroked up from his collarbone to his naval over and over. "You spoke earlier like you're reconsidering marriage." She bit her lip. Gentle prodding might not make him close down.
"It's crossed my mind." He seemed hesitant to say more.
"Do you think you might want kids some day?" She squeezed her eyes shut. That pushed too hard.
He heaved a deep sigh. "It's not a question of want, Emma. I don't know that it would be fair to a child."
"Before the accident, what did you want from life?" Silence. Perhaps he contemplated the answer. Or shut down.
"I wanted it all," he sighed wistfully. "The white picket house in a town large enough to have things to do but not too big, the swingset and dog in the backyard, the wife who wouldn't mind my hospital hours and could hold down the fort, the three kids with maybe a surprise baby thrown in there...the front porch facing west so we could rock in rocking chairs as we grew old and the grandkids rode bikes on the sidewalk..." His voice trailed away. "Now I'd be happy with just a wife who could tolerate going to events alone and even just consummating the marriage." He swallowed hard.
"What if she found pleasure in your touch? What if the babies started coming?"
A heavy sigh escaped him. "Emma, once she sees my face, she will be a bit frightened. A bedding after that would be tolerated at best. She would feel alone and trapped. Parenting would mostly fall on her once the baby became old enough to fear me. It would build so much resentment."
Her heart beat faster. "But you said IVF as the worst case-"
"Before I thought about what it'd be like for her."
Her hand stilled. "You know I want children. Does that mean you're not serious about us?"
"I am serious about you, but I can't ask you to give up children." He held her hand, his thumb stroking the back of hers. "I want some kind of miracle, like some magical plastic surgery to be invented or something. I want that life with you, Emma, but I don't know you'd want it with me when it came down to the day-in and day-out living with it."
Her hand tightened in his. "Jason, in time you'll see how much I love you."
"We're getting ahead of ourselves."
She snuggled against him. He just couldn't see the future, but she could.
He bounced his leg in the waitingroom the next morning. She set a hand on his knee. "Jason, it'll be alright." He simply nodded and sat back, absently fiddling with her hand in his.
"Jason Port," the nurse called.
She kissed his cheek. "I'm right here if you need me."
He nodded and disappeared down the hall.
Then she started getting nervous. She paced and checked email on the phone and even started researching care for feedingtubes just in case.
Jason came out thirty minutes later just when she was about to climb the wall. She hurried over to him, the strain around his eye making her stomach twist in knots.
"He needs to pull one, and he thinks he can do something when he's in there to save the two molars and avoid a root canal on the other. He said that putting sealants on would help prevent further decay of the other teeth."
"Well, that's good, isn't it?" He looked so upset for a prognosis so much better than they'd expected.
His eye searched hers. "It's the incisor he's pulling."
She blinked. "Wait, I thought the other oral surgeon said two molars might need to be pulled, but the incisor and front tooth just had the abscess problem." The incisor helped serve as a lip. If that was pulled, he'd constantly have saliva running out of his mouth.
"He did a scan with some advanced equiptment." His brow wrinkled with worry. "He says he can redo the root canals on those two molars and clean out and seal the other so it won't need a root canal. The abscess keeps coming because an infection causes it. He showed me on the scan where a root died and broke off. It's been a constant infection inside the gum, but I don't have all the nerves to feel pain until it flares up bad. The tooth has hairline fractures and will start crumbling within a few months." He looked away for a moment and pressed his lips together, as if trying to swallow down the humiliation.
She rubbed his arm. "Talk to me." Looking up at him with love, she laid a hand on his chest. Maybe he'd open up if he felt secure in her devotion. "I love you no matter what comes along, Jason."
He swallowed hard and met her eyes. "I already have to pack gauze under the mask because..." His voice faded. Then he closed his eye and his voice finished in a whisper. "Of the drooling."
"Stop it." Keeping her voice low, she held his eye when he looked at her in surprise. It almost made steam come out her ears. "Don't talk about yourself like that. There is nothing wrong with you." Her heart thundered. Not more problems and humiliation for him. He had so many with the hearing loss, eye surgery, eating impairment, and now this. It just about ripped her heart out. But he needed her to be strong to help him through this, not pile on worries. She took a deep breath to calm herself. "Honey, if the tooth needs to go, it needs to come out before your jaw bone gets infected or something."
His shoulders sagged and he looked away, the heartbreak apparent on his face.
"Jason?"
He shook his head and looked at her with such sadness. "I was hoping you'd have some magical answer or something."
That ripped out and crushed her heart. "Oh, Jason." She held him tight. "It's going to be alright. We'll get the best speech therapist to help figure out how to handle it, if you want. As soon as the bone is healed in a year, you can get an implant, if you want. This is only temporary, Jason. Maybe a bridge can be put in after a few weeks that will help."
"A bridge?"
The hope in his voice almost brought tears to her eyes. When he pulled back, he was smiling.
"Didn't he talk about options afterwards?"
He turned a bit red. "I got upset and said I needed to talk to you. We didn't get that far."
She pressed her lips together to suppress a smile, touched he sought her out when he was upset. "Do you want me to come in with you? I can't promise not to faint, though." She smiled.
With a shake of his head, he kissed her forehead. "Thank you, Emma." Then he left, looking much more like himself.
A hygenist came out an hour later. "Emma?"
She stood, her heart racing. This couldn't be good. She followed the nurse into an empty back room.
"He's alright, but the tooth the doctor thought he could save is in much worse shape than is showing up on x-rays."
She closed her eyes. This wasn't happening. "Jason's under anesthesia, isn't he?"
"Yes. He said if we needed to consult for something, we should talk to you. The surgeon can speak to you, but I wanted to see if you have a strong stomach first. He's in the middle of surgery."
Even if she could stomach it, Jason wouldn't want her to see his face. "I can't handle blood. Perhaps if I'm not facing him?"
The hygenist nodded and led the way.
She had to swallow down bile when she heard teeth crunching as they entered the room. She kept her face turned away. Her knees weakened when a drill started grinding, and she dropped into a chair.
"Are you alright?" an older male voice asked.
She nodded and took deep breaths. "She said you need to pull another tooth?" More crunching. Oh god, the bile rose up in her throat. She could do this. She had to do this for Jason to make sure this tooth definitely needed to be pulled. The hygenist pressed a cup of cold water into her hand. "Thank you," she said breathlessly and took a big gulp.
"Yes. The nerve must be a bit damaged from the burn because the front tooth adjacent to the incisor should be paining him something terribly. I can see the roots. They're..."
When he started going into detail, she had to hold a hand over her mouth. Do it for Jason. Buck up and do this for him.
"Doctor," the hygenist warned. He cut off his description.
"And there's nothing to do to save it?" Her voice sounded tingy. She shifted her legs to get the blood back to her head. Deep breaths.
"I'm afraid not. The root canals on two molars went well. His lower lip has thickened scar tissue on the inside, which seems to be creating a slight callous rubbing raw from the teeth. My concern is a constant wound like that with constant cell turnover does have the risk of turning into cancer. I can shave that down a hair, and I think it won't bother him at all. It might need a stitch or two, or maybe just packing. It depends how deep the scarring is into the tissue."
Oh god, the room spun. She swallowed hard. "Have you done that before?"
"Yes. About twenty seven times in the last three years. Not one patient has had a problem since."
"Can I see what you're talking about?" To make sure he seemed to know what he was talking about, not that she knew.
"Here. He's draped for a sterile field."
The hygenist handed her a mask. "Just hold it over your mouth and nose to keep everything sterile."
She stood on shakey legs and stepped over, half of Jason's face covered by drapes. Holy mother, the doctor's gloves were covered in blood. Her heart beat faster. "Should he bleed that much?"
"It looks much worse than it is. He's probably lost a sixteenth of a pint." He was holding down Jason's lower lip, his hand blocking the scarring on Jason's chin. "I'd excise this area." He pointed with a tool.
"Will it affect his speech or lip movement?" Her entire body tingled. Spots started monopolizing her vision. Oh god, right next to the tool was a deep, bloody hole from where Jason's tooth used to be.
"He shouldn't even notice I did it once it heals."
"Go ahead," she panted, her body going limp. Well, she'd almost made it. Everything went black.
The hygenists wouldn't let her out of the chair for nearly an hour while Jason was still in surgery and made her drink a full glass of cold water.
Jason walked in wearing the ski mask, the right side of his mouth protruding probably from being packed with gauze. He looked a little groggy but mostly worried.
The hygenist sitting in the chair beside her who'd held watch stood up so Jason could take a seat. "She went in the room during surgery to talk to the doctor. She made it through the teeth breaking but hit the floor when she saw the surgery before you were closed up. She didn't hit her head, though. We caught her in the nick of time."
He sat and grabbed the chairarm as if a little dizzy yet. His eye searched her face.
"I'm fine." She flushed, utterly embarrassed. "I didn't see your face," she whispered for his ears alone. When she started to get up, he caught her hand to keep her there. "I've been here for almost an hour. I'm alright. Are you feeling alright?" Her question didn't seem to register because he felt the pulse at her throat, his eye still worried. "Jason." She pulled his hand away just as the doctor came in.
"Sometimes patients are a little groggy for the rest of the day. His low body fat is allowing him to process the anesthesia quickly, so he might be back to normal in an hour or two. The two teeth came out without a problem, and the lip smoothed out beautifully. It might be a little tender, but the tightness of the scarring didn't allow for stitching. I probably wouldn't have stitched it anyways. I've told him all of this, but it might not quite register."
Jason gave him a look.
"Or maybe it did," the doctor smiled. "No need to return if there isn't a problem, and then in about three months a temporary bridge can be placed."
Jason held her eyes, seeming worried about her reaction.
She took his hand and gave a soft smile. "Let's go home."
The poor man looked miserable on the plane ride. He breathed slow and deep, pain etched in his half-hooded eye. He barely moved as he held the ice against his chin.
"Jason, you need the ice closer to your skin. Through the mask won't work well enough." She walked over and slowly sat in his lap facing his good side. "The pain med should kick in soon, honey. Let me hold on the ice, and see if you can sleep. I promise I won't look." She turned and hit the button to turn off the overhead lights, only the light from the dreary gray sky coming in.
He lowered the ice and started pulling off the mask but stopped when it must have pushed against his swollen mouth. Closing his eye, he panted shallow, short breaths.
She caught the edges of the mask and pulled it out away from his face, easing it off. Then she leaned back in his arms to only see his profile and held the ice against the far side of his chin as gently as possible. His face contorted and a soft whimper escaped him that sliced through her heart. "I'm sorry. I'm being as soft as possible. It'll feel better in a minute." He simply sat still looking so miserable.
After a handful of minutes, he began shifting and turned his head away. He brushed at his mouth over and over with a handkerchief getting covered in bloody saliva.
Her face crumpled, and she pressed her lips together to hold in the tears seeing him struggle and feel so humiliated that he turned away.
He started swallowing several times as it got worse. "No, Jason, don't swallow any blood or you'll get an upset stomach." She got up and took his hand to lead him into the bathroom. "Here's new gauze. It's time to change them in a minute anyways." She handed him the bag and swallowed hard. He turned his head away as far as possible without revealing the scars and held the handkerchief to his mouth. "Do you need help?"
He shook his head and took the bag before closing the door with a soft click.
When he didn't come out after a few minutes, she knocked on the door. "Are you alright?" No answer. She cracked it open. He was leaning over the sink with his hands on the counter and his head bowed. A steady flow of bloody saliva ran down from his mouth.
Tears sprang to her eyes to see him like this.
He wiped it and threw the tissue into a trashcan nearly full with bloody tissues. His mouth instantly started running again. He bowed his head down. And silently wept in humiliation.
Her lip quivered, but she held onto the tears. She pulled a tissue out of the box, keeping her eyes diverted from the mirror. She reached to wipe it for him, to help show it didn't matter, but he turned his head away. "Don't." Her voice broke. Heartbreak poked a hole in her heart, and it began to bleed. "Don't push me away. Don't let us break, Jason. I love you. Seeing you hurt like this, I wish more than anything I could bear it for you. Please, let me in."
He didn't let her see. His pain tore her apart. The rejection of her love pierced like a knife slowly driving deeper and deeper. Then, he slowly turned his head forward. Hope flickered in her heart. She gently wiped his mouth without looking beyond his profile. "I love you. We'll get through this together, Jason." She got a new tissue and brushed away his tears. Then she set her hand over his and rubbed his back, bending down a bit to be eye level. Bloody saliva dripped into the sink again. "It's going to be alright. We have to get the gauze in to put pressure on so the bleeding stops. Do you want me to help?" He shook his head. "OK. Hurry up because I need to hug you." That won a watery smile from him.
She sat in his seat looking out the window waiting for him to come out. When the door clicked open, she stood and took a step forward so he could slip in behind her without her seeing his face. His hand touched her back, and she sat in his lap. Holding the ice to his chin again, she searched his face. The pain medicine seemed to be working, if the loss of tightness around his eye was any indication. The fresh gauze must be absorbing the saliva and blood for the moment. She pulled down the writing desk of the seat in front of them. Then she handed the pen to him. "Tell me what you were thinking."
He hesitated for nearly a full minute. She laid her head on his shoulder. "Please, Jason. If we traded places, you'd be going crazy too wanting to help." The stress and worry came out in her voice. Then he slowly began to write.
It's so humiliating. I want so much to push you away, to hide until this is over.
Her heart fell. They wouldn't make it if he turned away whenever a hardship came up. With age, his physical burdens would only increase. And he would only push her away farther and farther until there was nothing left of them.
But that would break us. What if it doesn't get better? What if it affects my speech? The mask used to be a luxury. Now with my eye gone, hideous scars, and drooling uncontrollably, what makes me so different from a monster? The dignity I had is gone. How can you desire this? I was called a beast years ago. Now I am one.
He slowly set down the pen, and a tear rolled down his cheek.
Tears streamed down her face. "You are no beast. Is that the faith you have in my love? I'm scared to come to you in a marriage bed because I fear you will see a defiled woman." His eye flew to her in horror, his head nearly turning to face her. "I fear you will look at me and only see the things he did."
His brow furrowed and he shook his head.
She touched his cheek. "I know those fears are in my head. Every time you touch me, a hint of that fear tries to take root. But I believe you love me, so that fear cannot thrive. You need to take a leap of faith in my love." Then she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead to his. "I will not let you fall," she whispered with her whole heart.