It was her absolute focus on the positives, genuinely. That absolute love and joy in her face when she focused on my Ben Nevis climb and not my chemotherapy, and it wasn’t a gloss over it, don’t make him sad by talking about his bodily failures and the shit that goes along with them – it was the plain truth in her seeing me as the same man she dashed across Harrow for on a Friday night. I relaxed. She relaxed. We lay together and breathed, and I wondered where the hell this was going, for both of us. But it didn’t matter. I didn’t care. Not in that moment. All that mattered to me was having
...more
