The marginally smaller hand on top of her folded ones, tightened and relaxed. Shelagh found comfort in this gesture. A gesture from the young man who should be her future step-son. But now- who was he to her now? Her fiance's son? A close friend's son? Or just someone she knew?
These thoughts brought fresh tears to her eyes but she blinked them back and looked at Timothy. He was so grown up, in every way- from his appearance, to his acceptance of her into their small family. Even when the forthcoming nuptials were still a matter of weeks away, he busied himself with getting homework completed and handed in quickly, ensuring he didn't have any outstanding work during the weekend of the wedding. He had also helped with the preparations, from testing the choice of cake baked by Mrs B, to choosing what colour suits Patrick should wear. Yet, was he grown up enough to handle the news? Could she tell him, before his father. Or should she tell him?
She breathed deeply, in and out, trying to maintain a slow and even rhythm, despite the fact she was finding it harder and harder to breathe. Gingerly, she reached out of his grasp and took the tea cup from the table next to her, to her lips tipping it slightly to allow the liquid to run down her increasingly dry throat.
Young Timothy had been an incredible igniter for Patrick and Shelagh's relationship. When he came into the clinic with a scrape on his arm, the only thing Shelagh, or then Sister Bernadette, could see was a young boy who needed help. Not just medical, but a mother's help. The mother he didn't have. But now he had the chance to have that mother figure back in his life- her. So why couldn't she do it? Why didn't she fight hard with all her soul for the opportunity that had been given to her?
Sighing, she put the teacup back on the table, inhaled deep into her lungs the warm air that surrounded them, almost suffocating her. She finally felt ready, or as ready as she would be able to feel. He needed to know
."Timothy," She started, and he turned his body toward her, "There's something you should know."
Silence fell between the two of them. Only the watch on Shelagh's wrist could be heard as it ticked over every second that passed."I…I…I'm sorry."
Was all she could say when she looked into his wide eyes. Those eyes which were filled with the innocence only a child could have.'He has to know.' She told herself.
Directing her sight away from him, instead concentrating on the monotonous movement of the hands on her watch face.
"I can't hear those words anymore, from them; from anyone. I can't hurt you both anymore than I already have. I…I can't do it."
A fresh set of salty tears ran down her cheeks, falling into her lap, not that she cared anymore. The only thing she cared about in this moment was the boy who had become so close to her in the past few months and was sitting rigidly next to her. His eyes didn't move from her face. He wished to seek understanding in her, and in her decision. Was she saying what he thought she was saying?
"Hello?" A voice called from the hallway. Patrick was home.
Was now the right time to tell him, or to tell them both?