Falling Walls (III)

Chapter 39

My throat was tightening, leaving me worried the words I needed to say wouldn't pass. Tom looked blankly ahead at the olive green wall. The white knuckles on his fingers grasping into the bed sheet gave away his distress. I moved closer, wanting to hug him, letting him know that he wasn't alone in this, but I got no reaction when coming closer. Fearing he'd snap, hoping he'd allow a small amount of contact, I placed my hand on his. Still, no reaction. It was like he was separating himself from the words that could build or destroy so much.
"The results were positive," I eventually told him with a wobbly voice.  I moved back to better see Tom's reaction, but there was none. He just continued staring at the wall, only the occasional blinking of his eyes being witness of his wakefulness. The room filled with an unbearable silence. 

"Eva really wants to meet you. She's so lovely, Tom." Still no reaction. "Say something, Tom, please," I begged him, when he finally moved. Tom got up, his warm hand sliding out of mine, leaving an empty feeling behind. I was certain he was going to leave, but instead Tom just went to bed. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his jeans and jumper onto the floor, then pulled the blanket up and closed his eyes.  I didn't like Tom's reaction, but at least he was still there and so I decided to follow him to bed. I turned off the lights and stared into the dark. I was tired but knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. Tom didn't move at all, he didn't change position but the deeper breaths of sleep stayed away. 

"I knew it would be," Tom suddenly broke the silence. 
"The test? You knew she is your mum?"
There was again a pause before Tom answered in a calm voice. "Yes, I recognized her voice. I heard it in my dreams."
My heart melted. I had no idea how to respond, so I remained silent, just placed my head in his arm to show him I was listening.
"I was never able to put a picture to the voice, but I knew when she began to talk."
"What did she say in your dreams?" I asked him carefully, not wanting to push too much.
"Usually reassuring things. It was like this invisible voice from an unknown space telling me to be brave, to have faith, to not give up. When I was younger, I thought it was an angel, later I was convinced I was becoming mad, hearing voices.  Now I know it was memories."
I noticed that my hand was stroking through Tom's hair, the way he usually did to me.

"What am I supposed to do now?" It was an odd question, I thought.

"What do you feel like doing?" I asked Tom back, convinced this was not a situation that required much decision making. 

"I don't know.  I thought I was just getting my life under control and now this is messing with my head." I couldn't understand what was so confusing for him and why he felt there was no room for his mum and family in his life, but then Tom explained.
"I was always hoping for this to happen. Then I finally accept the fact that it never will and it does.  It took me so long to get here.  I would have never gotten here without you.  But what if it doesn't work out the way I imagine. What if something unexpected happens?"
"Unexpected things will happen.  Life is full of them.  We'll deal with them together.  If something disappointing happens, we'll deal with it. In the meantime, you can be excited, you know."
Tom sighed deeply. "I wish I could. - She's like this fictional character, like Santa Clause or the Tooth Fairy.  Imagine I'd suddenly tell you they were real and want to meet you?"
I knew that Tom was serious but his comparison was just too funny.  I tried my hardest to suppress the giggle forming.
"It's a bit different though," I replied as seriously as I could, before a full-blown laugh fit caught me.  Tom struggled and I was making it look like it was a joke to me. The harder I tried to stop laughing, the more I had to laugh.  It wasn't just because I thought it was funny, it was more one of those laughs that you get when you don't know how else to react. To my surprise, Tom soon joined in and for the second time in one day we both laughed until it hurt.

When the chuckles eventually subsided, I felt Tom's hand gently move up my leg, over my hips, my stomach up to my breasts. He paused for a moment and I realised how much I had craved his touch. I went silent. Unable to move I soaked in every caress, every kiss, every breath on my skin. Only when Tom reached my lips, I joined in the kiss and moved my hands across the body I hadn't felt for weeks: The hairy arms, the smooth, hard muscles of his upper arm under the tips of my fingers, the scar on his strong shoulder. I re-discovered the hollows of his neck which always made him squirm and explored the longer and rougher hair stands. His now familiar beard stubble scrubbing across my skin was like a message to my senses, screaming for more. When Tom finally entered me, it crossed my mind that he wasn't using any protection. Maybe there was hope.