As Long As She Lives (full published version!)

Chapter 11

Something had fallen. Riley was nervous too. Of course he was – she'd practically declared her undying love to him last night – he'd probably spent the morning wondering how to let her down without triggering another psychotic break. That, at least, she could fix.

He re-appeared flourishing a block of orange and mango juice, and she let him snip the corner from the box and pour her a glass before she put him out of his misery.

"I woke up a while ago," she said. "I've been lying in there trying to think what on earth I can say to make up for last night."

"You don't have to make up for anything."

"Yes, I do. Losing control is a symptom, I know, but the things I said... I've made my own choices, I don't blame Sean or you or even Aaron for what's happening in my life now. I need you to know that."

"Okay."

"I mean, thinking about it now, with the benefit of hindsight, if being together had really been what we wanted, wouldn't we have found a way? I mean, we never even kissed."

"I guess so."

"I know I acted as though it was this great unrequited romance," she said "but if it wasn't more important to us than Sean's feelings, or worth the risk of being rejected, how great could it have been?"

"Hardly at all."

"So can we – maybe – pretend I didn't say any of those things? Is that at all possible?"

"Sure."

"Thank you." Cait was suddenly famished. She buttered her toast and slathered jam on it.

"Will you stop that?" His raised voice startled her.

"Stop what?"

"Thanking me all the time. Every time I do the tiniest thing for you, you thank me."

"Because I'm grateful. You do so much for me."

He rolled his eyes and got up from his seat, taking her empty cup and clattering it into the sink.

"Riley?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Don't worry about it. The farmers market's on today, do you want to go?"

"I want to know what that was all about."

"It's about you thanking me constantly, for nothing. Changing a light bulb, doing a little shopping is not a big deal."

"It is when you should be able to do it for yourself. You take me to and from my appointments when you should be at work! That's a big deal."

He turned back to her, crossing his arms as he leaned against the sink. "Then why don't you trust me?"

Cait was stunned. "I do trust you!"

"Really? Every night, I ask you how your pain's been and you always – always – say it was between three and five out of ten. You've said nothing about pain in the mornings until Gnudsen let it drop, but I saw you when you got up yesterday morning. I watched you walk – shuffle – to the bathroom and it was way more than 'not waking up well'."

"That doesn't mean I don't trust you."

"Then tell me. Are you having night terrors?"

She could hardly lie to him. "I don't think so but I am having nightmares. I thrash around a little and it aggravates my injury, which can be a trigger for more nightmares. It's a bit of a cycle."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry!"

"Well it backfired! I can see you're in pain. I know you're not going to tell me if you need help, so I have to be constantly on the lookout, guessing at what you need. It's exhausting!"