The End Where I Begin (Book Four of the Glen Power Series)

Chapter 32

He doesn't leave me.

There isn't a second that passes that I don't feel his protective presence somewhere in the house. He may not always be in the same room, but I know he would be here if I called. He's my security. My rock. My everything.

And he still doesn't know.

I never got a chance to tell him how I feel. I planned to tell him as I walked in that day, but after my breakdown, I just didn't have the courage to any more. I was nervous. I thought I had dealt with Glen's departure before I left Danny's. But I suppose things like that take a while to sink in.

I don't really remember much of my breakdown. That's a lie. I probably do. But I don't want to think about it. I don't want to remember the look in Mark's eyes as I screamed venom at him two weeks ago. I don't want to remember how I blamed him for Glen leaving.

I don't want to remember Glen.

I wander into the kitchen and see Mark stood there. He's doing the washing up. Just a menial chore that needs doing. Yet he makes it seem like the most interesting thing in the world. Everything he does seems so effortless. So simple. I need simple. It's about time that I went after it.

I plod over to him and bump my hip playfully. He looks up in surprise, his face immediately relaxing when he sees me.

“Hey, you,” he says softly, smiling lovingly at me. My heart skips a beat at the sight of it. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“No plans for the day?”

“I was kind of hoping you wanted to watch a film with me?”

I lean my face slightly closer, gently tugging on his shirt in a pathetic attempt to flirt. I've not had to do this in so long. I feel like a bit of an idiot, to be honest. I don't even want to start imagining what I look like...

But what I'm doing must be working. I hear his breath hitch nervously, his face going bright red as he turns back to the washing up.

“S...Sure, yeah,” he stutters. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well...I haven't seen The Notebook in a while..."

He clears his throat, blush creeping further up his face at the mention of that film. He remembers the last time we watched that film. Back in the pre-marriage days, where our relationship was nearly pure sex...

He nods frantically, trying to hold back all his instincts.

“Yeah, sure, okay.”

“You sure? It's quite girlie..."

“No, it's fine.”

“Okay. I'll go get it set up then.”

I turn away from him, feeling a slight sense of disappointment. Since my moment of weakness, he's barely come near me. Holding me at arms length, even though he longs to draw me closer. Scared to break the fragile doll that I've become to him. A precious thing that he dare not touch. When that's all that I want him to do.

When he sits down next to me, I can feel the tension in his body. The distance between us in cold as he tries to keep composure. I'm not having this. I move closer, huddling close to him as I click play. I don't think he's breathing any more. I relax against him, so happy to be touching him. I've missed him. I've missed him so much.

Slowly, I can feel him loosen up. I smile to myself, bringing my feet up to curl up beside me as I snuggle even further against him. I feel his sigh of content, finally bringing his cheek to rest against my head. His arm nervously snakes around my waist, his hand cautiously resting on my hip. I have to stop the squeal of happiness that feels like it's going to burst out of me.