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“Ah well, that’s asking a great deal from me, Miss Perkins, I’ve always been a talker, and I always will be.”
I expected another curt remark, but instead, she only stared at me for several seconds before giving a brief shake of her head. “It is better that he is occupied with something worth his while. Far better than lurking around this house, watching me wither away to nothing.”
I hesitated. “So, you chose to keep him busy rather than potentially watch you die?”
“Potentially, is it?”
“Well, the last I checked, you’re still conscious and rallying your strength.”
“Yes, but for how long?” she asked me, and while it wasn’t quite fearful, there was a softness to her voice I hadn’t heard before. “My strength fades every day, and there’s not a thing I can do about it. And before you start, I’m quite aware that rest is all I have to give in the fight for my life.”
“It does help,” I offered weakly.
“And that help comes from passively laying here, doing nothing. Even food has become a daily struggle for me. Everything tastes foul, and that’s when I manage to keep it down. I can barely stay awake half the time, and when I do, I can barely read or speak for long periods before my strength once more fades,” she told me, her eyes suddenly blazing with frustration. “I can handle the pain, but I have become a passive observer to my own body failing, and I find that insufferable.”
Despite what I’d said earlier, I did know the time to speak and the time to remain quiet. I honestly had no idea what Sophia was going through, and I honestly hoped I would never have to face it personally. I couldn’t imagine the horror and helplessness that came with what she’d described.
“Nothing to say to that?” she asked, finally settling her head back onto the pillow.
“Nothing I say can make anything you’re going through better,” I told her. “But we’ll know within a few weeks if your treatment is making any progress. Maybe even less than that. And I can’t offer you anything more than what I have, my advice, and my care.”
“A shame those things cannot offer me my health and body back.”
“No, not guaranteed in any case.”
“An even greater shame. Imagine how much your services would be in demand if you could.”
“I’d probably never get a moment’s peace,” I told her with a shrug. “Or possibly get snatched up by someone in the government so they can poke and prod me while using me for their own selfish aims. Probably a bit of both.”
An amused look flashed through her eyes. “Your pragmatism will serve you well. Try not to lose it in the midst of all that high-flying optimism you love so much.”
“I’ll try not to,” I said, glancing toward her bedroom door when I heard a thump downstairs. Even though there were still people working during the day, not one of them dared to make too much noise. Everyone knew how ill Sophia was, and no one wanted to risk interfering with her rest when it was so vital. “I do believe that answers your previous question.”
“Noisy boy when he wants to be, always has been,” she said with a wry glance toward the door. “No matter. I think it’s time I try some of that much-vaunted rest you’re always on about. No doubt I’ll be awake in another hour, wondering if the pain will keep me up all night.”
“You know you have access to the pain medication.”
“And you know my feelings on that.”
“I do.”
I took that as an indication that she wished to be left alone and gathered my things to leave her room. I heard a clatter from the sitting room and hesitated before setting my things down on a nearby hallway table. I walked through the doorway to find Shane sitting in the chair before the unlit fireplace, head tilted back and his eyes closed. He was dressed in a suit, and I wondered if he had been out of the house earlier that day, though he had loosened his tie and undone the top couple of buttons.
Smiling, I walked quietly into the room and slid up behind him. I knew I was nowhere near quiet enough to keep him from noticing my presence, but I didn’t want to jerk him out of whatever relaxing reverie he was in. Despite how unnerving the lack of his presence had been lately, there was something calming about seeing him sitting there, simply trying to unwind in a moment of peace.
“Your stealth could use some work,” he said, and I hesitated at the strangeness in his voice.
“I was trying to be quiet, not silent,” I told him, running a hand over his shoulder and squeezing. “It looked like you were trying to relax, and I didn’t want to ruin that.”
“Trying, yes,” he said, not opening his eyes or responding to my presence.
I told myself he wasn’t one to mince words or bother hiding what he was truly thinking, at least with me, and tried not to read too much into that brief sentence. I had to remind myself he had been incredibly busy taking over the position his mother had all but pushed upon him. He himself had told me the first day I’d come back to work after the new year that the calls were bound to get more frequent, and he was going to be expected to make an appearance.
Between the growing responsibilities and his mother’s declining health, I couldn’t fault him for being quiet and stressed. Despite having told myself that what was happening between him and me wasn’t serious, that didn’t mean I hadn’t slowly but surely become concerned about his well-being.
Once I might have told myself it was a foolish idea, but that was before I’d learned just what kind of person Shane was underneath it all. Oh, he was absolutely the smart-mouthed pain in my ass that had driven me crazy from our first real conversation, but I had seen his tenderness, patience, and the fervent need to experience, grow, and be more than he was. It was that last thing, most of all, that kept me from saying anything when I noticed him throwing himself more and more into the responsibilities his mother had given him.
“Been having fun trying to fill in your mother’s shoes?” I asked, deciding to sit opposite him rather than keep touching him. Once, I might have said he responded best to physical contact, but things could just as easily change with all the new factors in his life.
