Six
“Is this what you’re working on right now?” Xander asked, coming to a halt in his traverse of her studio to stand in front of a large canvas she had on her easel.
It was a broad watercolor of Cheltenham Beach, only a block down the hill from their house. A place where she usually took daily walks to blow away the cobwebs of the past that continued to stubbornly cling to the recesses of her mind.
“It is. I’m nearly done,” she replied, watching him as he stared at the picture.
Would he remember the times they’d taken Bozo for a run on the white sand, laughing as he’d chased seagulls—his short legs and long hairy body no match for the svelte grace of the birds? Or when they’d taken Parker to the beach for his first swim in the sea? Their son had been such a water baby. Crawling flat out on his pudgy hands and chubby little knees to get back to the water every chance he could. In the end they’d had to bundle him into his stroller and take him home, amid much protesting.
Her heart gave a sharp twist. This was going to shred her into tiny pieces—this wondering, the waiting, the fear that he’d remember and the hope that he might not. But was that entirely fair—to hope that he would never recall the past? He’d been a loving father and a good, if initially reluctant, dad. Was it fair that he shouldn’t remember all that he’d been to Parker and the love that had been returned from child to father?
“I like it,” Xander said, interrupting her thoughts. “Do you have to sell it? It would be perfect over the mantel in the sitting room, don’t you think?”
She’d thought that very thing. And there it was. The synchronicity she and Xander had shared from the day they’d met. Just when had they lost it so completely? she wondered.
“I don’t have to sell it,” she said carefully. “But it’s the focal point of the collection.”
“Maybe I’ll need to buy it myself,” Xander said with a wink that reminded her all too much of the reasons she’d fallen in love with him in the first place.
She laughed. “I hope you have deep pockets. It’ll command a good price.”
“Maybe I have an ‘in’ with the artist,” he said suggestively. “We might be able to come to reciprocal agreement.”
Her body tightened on a wave of desire so sharp and bittersweet she almost cried out. It had been so long since they’d bantered like this. So long since it had led to its inevitable satisfying and deeply physical conclusion.
“We’ll have to see about that,” she said noncommittally and stepped away just when Xander would have reached for her. “I was thinking of baking cheese scones for lunch. You keen?”
“I shouldn’t be hungry after that breakfast, but I am,” Xander conceded but not before she saw the hint of regret in his eyes.
Had he wanted her in that moment when they were teasing? She’d certainly wanted him. She wished she had the courage to act on it. The doctors hadn’t said outright that they shouldn’t resume normal marital relations. Thing was, theirs was no longer a normal marriage. She’d be taking even greater advantage of him, wouldn’t she, if she gave in to the fierce physical pull between them?
Of course she would, she told herself. No matter how much she might wish it to the contrary, it would be lying to him. Like you are already? that cynical voice in the back of her mind intruded. How much worse would it be?
She shook her head slightly, as if she could rid herself of the temptation that way.
“Come on,” Olivia said firmly, slipping her arm around Xander’s waist in a totally nonsexual way and turning him away from the painting. “You can do battle with the coffee machine for me while I whip up those scones. We can discuss the painting later.”
* * *
Two weeks later saw them settled into a more comfortable routine. The physical therapist came to the house twice a week, putting Xander through his paces and working with him to improve his balance and coordination. In between his visits, Olivia helped him through his exercises. She realized, with regular home-cooked meals and the physical exercise, he was slowly returning to normal. Physically, at least.
Mentally, he was still adrift in the past and none too pleased about it. He’d taken to spending a bit of time in his office upstairs each day, familiarizing himself with his client backgrounds all over again. Olivia was thankful he was nowhere near ready to return to work yet, but eventually he would be. She wouldn’t be able to cocoon him within their home forever.