“I’ve just started. I have not yet spoken of the most beautiful aspects of you. Your beautiful and very good heart. Your soul, your kindness and…”
Rowan moves between the covers to hold me close to him. His strong hand—which I have not mentioned before but only because its closeness confuses and intoxicates me—behind the nape of my neck, before his mouth presses sensual and moist on mine.
“I’m scared,” I confess to him.
“About what?”
Scared of losing the kids, losing you. Waking up tomorrow morning and realising that this was just a dream and that I will only be left trying to wipe my tears in vain.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Rowan strokes my hair and smiles at me. “Of course.”
“And will you give me an honest answer?”
“Absolutely.”
“Do you really think the kids should be entrusted to me?”
Rowan wrinkles his forehead.
“I mean… You saw what a mess I am.”
“You’re just a little messed up. Nothing that can’t be improved.”
I smile weakly at him.
“Mark used to say that too.”
“That’s because he knew you well, he knew your potential.”
“He always believed that I could do anything.”
“And you, on the other hand, don’t think that at all.”
I think for a few moments, then slip out of his embrace and sit on the bed. I watch as he rises too.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t stop thinking about Mark, about his last words.”
“I thought he was unconscious…”
“He left me something.” I bite my lip, tense. “Something written.”
“What are you talking about?”
I get out of bed and reach into my bag, rummage inside and pull out the letter Mark left for me, clutching it tightly to my chest as I walk back to the bed. Then slowly I hand it to Rowan.
“What is it?”
“A letter Mark wrote for me a while ago. The solicitor who dealt with his will gave it to me.”
Rowan picks her up and observes it.
“I would like you to read it.”
His eyes shift to me. “Are you sure?”
