PART THIRTY ONE

Paul came back to my parents place with me. I was under strict orders from the doctor not to do anything strenuous for a few days, so Paul was hesitant about leaving me alone.

"What do you think I’m going to do?" I asked. "Rearrange all the furniture? Run up and down the stairs?"

"Well ... I just thought it would be better if you weren’t alone."

The truth was that I was terrified to be alone. It was stupid, I knew that Steve was dead, I had seen his body myself. No one was going to hurt me, but I was still scared at the thought of being alone. I couldn’t tell Paul this though, he was worried enough as it was. I didn’t want him to worry about me or feel responsible for me. So I would try and convince him that I was fine, that everything was okay.

I stood in my bedroom, looking out the window. The beach was busy as it always was in the summer. How I envied all those people, so seemingly happy and carefree, oblivious to any kind of danger, just having fun. I seriously doubted that I could ever feel that free again, I had been through too much. I honestly didn’t think that I could ever recover from what Steve had done to me. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. I screamed and spun around, only to see Paul ... the glass of orange juice he had brought upstairs for me spilled all over the front of his shirt, a look of surprise on his face.

"Oh, Paul ... I’m sorry," I said. "I ... you ... I didn’t hear you come in." I fought hard to control my breathing and stop the shaking in my hands.

The expression on Paul’s face changed from surprise to concern. "Hey, Sam ... it’s okay. I shouldn’t have come up behind you like that, I didn’t mean to scare you."

"I know. "I looked at the floor.

"God Sam, you’re shaking."

"You just surprised me." I looked at his shirt. "I’ll go get you a clean top," I said.

"Hold on a minute." Paul held my arm so I wouldn’t walk away. "Sam, you’ve been jumping at every little noise since we got here, even though you’re trying to hide it, I’ve seen you. You’re scared aren’t you?"

"I’m fine," I said.

"Okay, that’s bullshit. I have finally learnt to tell when you’re lying, and you’re doing it now. Why won’t you tell me you’re scared? I sure as hell am. It’s okay to admit it."

"Because if I do, you’ll want to stay. I don’t want you worrying about me, you have no obligation to look out for me." I turned to back to the window. "It’s over, it’s finally really over. Now I need to get on with my life ... so do you. Things can go back to the way they were before."

"That’s never going to happen," Paul said. "You know it, and in a way that’s good, because before this happened I didn’t know you and now you’re an important part of my life ... one I wouldn’t want to change. I do plan on getting on with my life, but that doesn’t mean leaving everything that happened behind. As for worrying about you, I’ll always do that whether you’re scared or not." He turned me around so that he could put his arms around me. "If I worry about you or look out for you, it isn’t because I feel some kind of obligation to do so. I do it because I care so much about you."

I let him pull me close and rested my chin on his shoulder.

"You’re still shaking," he said.

"Yeah, I guess I’m jumpier than I thought." I felt a tear sliding from my eye. "Paul," I said as the tear fell on Paul’s shoulder, "I am scared. I don’t want to be ... but I am."

"It’s okay," Paul said. "It really is all over, you’re finally safe." Standing there like that in Paul’s arms, I finally felt it ... I was safe.

PART THIRTY TWO

So Paul moved into my parents house with me. He went back to his place to get some clothes and came back, settling into the spare room next to my own. By the time he got back the temperature had soared. Despite the air conditioning, there was no place in the house to stay cool.

"Why don’t we go down to the pool?" I suggested. Paul readily agreed and ten minutes later we were by the water. Paul jumped in and splashed around a bit while I sat on the edge, my legs dangling in the cool water.

"Hey," Paul called out before clumsily swimming towards me. He grabbed on to the edge then stood up next to my legs. "Aren’t you coming in?" He grabbed my foot, ready to pull me in.

I shook my head. "I can’t. Remember, I had this hole cut in me so they could get the baby out? I’m not meant to get it too wet."

"Well that sucks!" Paul let go of my foot and pulled himself out of the water so that he was sitting next to me.

"Yeah, I know. But it’s better than having the wound get infected or anything."

"How is it any way?" Paul asked.

"Good, it itches a little, but that’s a sign that it’s healing well. I go back to the doctor next week to get the stitches out. I don’t know that I’ll be wearing my bikini for a while though."

"Bummer." I heard Paul mutter. I glanced at him and saw that he was staring straight ahead, grinning devilishly. I reached around quickly and gave him a solid shove which sent him splashing into the water.

"Hey, no fair!" he spluttered when he surfaced. "You just wait, I’ll get you back. It’ll be when you least expect it too!" He swam to the other end of the pool and sat grinning at me. After a while he came back towards me. He climbed out of the pool and went over to his towel, then came back. I eyed him cautiously.

"What are you doing?" I asked warily.

Paul laughed. "A little worried are we?"

"I just don’t know that I trust you right now," I said.

"Oh, you can trust me ... for now." He knelt behind me, I tried to twist around to see what he was doing. I relaxed when I saw what he held in his hand.

"I don’t want you to get burnt," he said as he squirted sun screen on to his hand. Then he began slowly rubbing it into my back. I shut my eyes, feeling his hands running over my skin, firm and yet so very gentle. His hands moved over my back then up to my shoulders.

"Wow," said Paul. "You’re really tense aren’t you?"

"Yeah, I know. I keep telling myself that I can relax now, but I can’t."

Paul began gently rubbing my shoulders, massaging them as well as putting on sun screen. "It’ll take some time," he said, "but it will happen." We sat in silence, Paul working to relieve the tension in my neck and shoulders. How I hoped he was right.

As I walked down the corridor I looked down at the bundle in my arms. I smiled, thinking about how this would be a new start for everyone. Way down the other end of the corridor there was a figure walking towards me. "Paul," I thought, and I quickened my step. But suddenly I froze to the spot. "No," I thought, "it can’t be. You’re dead." I tried to scream, but nothing came out. The person just kept coming towards me, grinning. They reached me and snatched the bundle out of my arms. Then I found my voice.

"No! Steve, you can’t take him. Please, give me back my baby!" I screamed over and over.

Steve turned to face me. "What’s wrong Sam? I thought you didn’t want him, you wanted him to be with me. That’s where I’m taking him, it’s what you wanted. So what’s wrong?" his voice sounded odd. It wasn’t Steve’s but it was familiar. "Sam?" he said. It was Paul’s voice, coming out of Steve’s mouth.

I screamed again and opened my eyes. Paul was sitting on the edge of my bed, his hands on my shoulders. My face was damp from my tears.

"What were you dreaming?" he asked as he lay down so that I could move into his arms.

"It was Steve," I stammered, beginning to cry again. "He was alive ... he took my baby away from me. He took him right out of my arms ... I couldn’t stop him." I put my head on his chest and cried. Paul didn’t say anything, just held me and let me cry. Eventually we both dozed off to sleep.

PART THIRTY THREE

A week ago I had gone in to have my stitches removed. While I was there I had checked in on the baby, but there was no change. The doctor had called every few days to let me know what was going on, and to ask me about the birth certificate. I still hadn’t named him, I didn’t see that there was a point. Seeing him again though still hurt, more than I had thought it would. He was so small and helpless.

Coping on my own sounded good in theory, but in reality it was a totally different matter. I was still really jumpy and even with all of the lights on I was scared at night. I couldn’t sleep much, what little sleep I did get was filled with dreams that left me in a cold sweat with a pounding heart.

Two days later when I went to Paul’s place for lunch I was totally exhausted. I tried to hide it, but Paul could see right away.

"So," he said as we sat on the couch. "I don’t suppose I need to ask how you’re feeling?"

"I’m a little tired," I said. Paul raised his eyebrow at me. "Okay, very tired. I’m still having trouble sleeping."

Paul went into the kitchen, returning minutes later with a mug, which he handed to me. I took a sip of the hot tea.

"So, what’s for lunch?" I asked.

"Umm … what do you want?"

"You have no food in the house do you?"

Paul grinned sheepishly and shook his head.

"It’s okay, I’m not really hungry anyway. Do you have any videos?"

"Sure. Funny, scary, soppy or stupid?"

We decided on The Princess Bride, my favourite move, (I wasn’t game to ask Paul what he was doing with a copy of it) and settled down to watch it. I shuffled over so that I could lean against Paul and he draped his arm around my shoulder. As the opening credits came on the screen I shut my eyes, listening to the sound of the baseball computer game the sick kid was playing.

When I opened my eyes there was something different, but it took me a while to figure out what it was. The TV was turned off and the light in the room was different. Instead of bright mid-morning sunlight, it was a dusky light, verging on dark. I was lying on the couch, a pillow under my head. I sat up and looked around. Paul was in the corner, painting in the light of a fluorescent lamp.

"Hi," he said when he saw me sit up.

"God," I muttered. "What time is it?"

"Umm … quarter past eight," Paul said, looking at his watch.

"Shit, I slept for nine hours?"

"Yeah, you slept like a log. You obviously needed it." He put his brush down and came to sit next to me. "You can’t let yourself get this run down."

We just sat and talked for a while, until I finally stood up. "I should go," I said. "It’s getting late."

Paul stood as well. "You don’t have to," he said.

"Yeah," I said, "I do. I told myself that I wasn’t going to lean on other people any more." I started looking around for my bag.

"Sam …" Something in Paul’s voice made me look up. When I did he came to me, put his arms around me. "Don’t go, please." He ran his hand through my hair while his other arm was wrapped tightly around my waist. He gently tilted my head up so that my eyes met his. "I want you to stay," he whispered.

Then he kissed me.

PART THIRTY FOUR.

For the briefest of moments his lips met mine, warm, soft, gentle, then they were gone. I lifted my eyes and they met with his in a look so intense that I felt my legs go weak.

"Will you stay?" he asked in a whisper. I nodded, unable to speak, unsure if this was really happening. Paul brought his hand back up to my face, gently touching the small scar on the side of my face where Steve had hit me with a bottle all those months ago.

Again our lips met, firmer this time. I closed my eyes, feeling his warm lips pressed against mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck as the kiss became more frantic. Paul’s hands were clutching at my back, his mouth and tongue searching mine.

I felt a shiver go down my spine as Paul began kissing my neck. From my ear all the way down to my collar, feathery kisses that quickened my breath. Then he just held me to him. We stood there, our bodies pressed together. I could feel the beat of his racing heart against my chest, his warm breath on my ear.

Once again our lips met passionately. Paul reached down and slowly began unbuttoning my shirt, one by one his fingers worked against the thin fabric. The he slid the shirt off my shoulders and let it fall to the ground as he traced the line of my bra with his fingers. I followed suit and pulled his T-shirt out of his jeans. He lifted his arms and we broke the kiss just long enough for me to pull the shirt off over his head. I loved the feeling of his skin against mine. Suddenly Paul bent slightly and lifted me into his arms. His strength surprised me. He carried me into his bedroom, kissing me all the while. Once in his room, he laid me gently on the bed and climbed on next to me.

"You’re trembling," he said softly as he bent to kiss my neck. Then he looked me in the eyes. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes," I said. There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted this to happen.

"Are you sure?" My trembling was worrying him.

I nodded … hesitating before speaking. "I’m just a little scared," I said as Paul put his hand on my stomach. "After what Steve did to me …" Paul cut off my words with a kiss, then pulled away to look at me again.

"Samantha, I could never hurt you the way that he did. But if you’re not sure …" I silenced him by lifting my head to kiss him. Paul moved so that his body was covering mine and softly touched my cheek. "I promise you, I will never hurt you."

And he didn’t.

I had never experienced anything so wonderful. Despite his harsh public persona, Paul was the most gentle and kind lover I had ever had. Afterwards we lay in each others arms, the sheet that covered our naked bodies clinging to our skin because of the perspiration that coated us both. Despite the intense heat, neither of us had any desire to separate, our damp bodies pressed together, arms wound tightly around each other. I nestled my head under his chin and he bent to kiss me. Then we just lay in silence, neither of us wanting to speak, to spoil this perfect moment. It was like this, lying in each others arms, that we both fell asleep.

PART THIRTY FIVE

When I woke up I was scared to open my eyes, afraid that it was all a dream. But gradually I became aware of someone’s arms around me, our skin touching, legs intertwined. I opened my eyes, the room was quite bright and sunlight was streaming in the window. I lifted my eyes and saw Paul looking at me.

"Morning," he said. He was smiling shyly, his hand running gently through my hair.

"Good morning," I said as I put my arm across his chest. His smile became more confident and he bent his head to kiss me. When he pulled away he was grinning madly at me.

"What?" I asked suspiciously.

"Nothing. How’d you sleep?" He was still grinning.

"Good, better than I have in a long time. What are you grinning about?"

"Nothing." The grin stayed put.

"Liar."

"What? Can’t I be in a good mood on a lovely morning like this?" He pulled me on top of him and his face grew serious. "I haven’t been this happy in a long time." I didn’t know what to say in response to this, so I just leaned down and kissed him. Paul wound his arms around me and held me tight, as if he was afraid that I would get away. That was the one thing he needn’t worry about.

Later, once we had finally dragged ourselves out of bed and showered, Paul scrounged together some food for breakfast. As we ate I noticed that he was grinning again. I tried to ignore it, but it finally got to be too much and I asked what he was grinning about. Instead of answering me he stood up and went into his bedroom.

"Paul?" I called.

"Hold on, I’ll be back in a sec." When he came back out he was hiding something behind his back. He moved to sit on the table in front of me, still grinning at me.

"Sam," he said.

"Yes?"

"Happy birthday." He brought a small, brightly wrapped box out from behind his back and put it in my hand with a card.

I looked at him in shock. "How did you know it was my birthday?"

"I snuck a look at your baby album when I was at your parents place. Cute pictures by the way! There was a newspaper clipping of a birth notice and I saw the date. Why didn't you say anything?"

"I don’t exactly like to be reminded that I’m nearly thirty. Only one year to go." I looked at the gift in my hand. "You shouldn’t have."

"Just open it!"

I tore off the paper, revealing a black velvet box. I looked at Paul questioningly, then slowly opened the box. Inside it was the most beautiful necklace I had ever seen. On a fine gold chain was a charm, an angel. In it’s arms it was clutching a small blue stone.

"Oh Paul, it’s beautiful." Paul took the box out of my hand and lifted the necklace out of it.

"It’s a guardian angel," he said as he moved around to my back. He lifted the necklace over my head so that it lay against my neck and he did the clasp up. "As long as the angel is holding the sapphire it’s holding on to your soul … keeping it safe." He came to sit on the table in front of me again. I just looked at him, tears in my eyes. I’d never been given anything so special, so amazing. I stood up and wrapped my arms around his neck.

"I take it this means you like it?" Paul asked.

"I love it," I said. "It’s the nicest thing I’ve ever been given."

Eventually I moved out of his arms and opened the card. There was a beautiful poem written inside, from the look on Paul’s face I knew he had written it. I went back to him and kissed him.

Around an hour later I got ready to go home, to change clothes if nothing else. I was going to come back here later, Paul had told me (I had no say in it) that he was taking me out to dinner. At the door he stopped me, pulling me into his arms.

"Sam," he whispered, "I need to tell you something."

"What?" I asked. The tone of his voice worried me.

"I told you something as you were being taken into the operating room a few weeks ago, but I know you didn’t hear me. I’ve been waiting for the right time to repeat what I said, I think that the time is now." He paused, looking at me carefully. Then very simply he said it.

"I love you."

My pulse instantly sped up and my knees felt like they were about to buckle. He leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips.

"Make sure you come back soon, okay?"

"I will, I won’t be long." I opened the door and stepped out then turned around to face Paul. I finally said what I had been feeling in my heart for months now.

"I love you too."

I saw Paul break into a large smile as I gave him a quick hug. Then I left, shutting the door behind me. I stood, looking at the closed door, a mile on my face. I touched the angel Paul had given me, I had never felt happier. I turned around and headed down the stairs.

If only I’d known what would happen, I never would have left that day. If only I’d known that I would never come back here again.