Daffodils in March by Clare Revell Page B

and took her hand. Her skin was soft against his, the same way he remembered. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, memories surging into the forefront of his mind. “I was really worried about you.”
    “Yeah, right.”
    She was beautiful even with messy hair and bags under her eyes. He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I was. I honestly thought I was going to lose you, and I couldn’t bear that.”
    She coughed. “And this from the man who dumped me.”
    “I’m sorry?” He stilled his hand.
    “Sorry you dumped me? Or sorry for the way you did it?”
    “I—” David broke off. Nothing he could say would be adequate, or could make up for the way he’d hurt her and broken her heart.
    Eden winked at him. “Never mind.” She leaned forward, coughing.
    David rubbed her back as she stopped. “If things had been different.”
    “Yeah,” she whispered.
    “But work got in the way…”
    “Was it really work or was it me?” she asked. “Did I push you too hard, or scare you off? Was there someone else?”
    “There’s never been anyone else, Eden. Only you.” He looked down for a long moment. How did he answer that without saying too much? “Scared of the commitment I guess. Eric had proposed to Han, and I knew you two wanted a double wedding and that. I guess I just wasn’t ready.”
    “So you broke my heart, rather than asking me to wait, because I would have.” She turned away.
    “I’m sorry,” he said, meaning every syllable. He hated this, hated every second of the lie he was living. “I’m going to see if your Mum can keep Marc a little longer, though I know they have plans this weekend. I’ve missed work the past few days, and I really need to go to this meeting tomorrow at two. I could always leave him in the florist with Grace if you’re not up to looking after him.”
    “I can do it. I can lie on the couch and watch him if need be.”
    “Thank you. Now eat your soup before it gets cold.”
    ****
    Eden reached over and picked up the mug, as David headed from the room. She had to admit, the soup did smell good. She didn’t remember the last time she ate, in which case she probably should eat something. The first couple of mouthfuls could have been nectar, it tasted so wonderful.
    OK, so it was only tomato, and David had probably just opened the first tin he’d found, but that didn’t matter.
    Bits of muddled conversation floated through her mind. The phrase ‘deal with her’ forefront, and in several voices, not David’s.
    Someone wanted to get rid of her, and she had no idea why, but that someone wasn’t David. David had helped her whilst she was sick and helpless. He could have easily put a pillow over her face, or not given her the meds when she couldn’t breathe if he wanted her dead.
    She coughed again and leaned back against the pillows. She closed her eyes for a moment, handing the whole mess over to God, really trusting that He had a plan here, because she was weak and floundering.
    “Are you sleeping?”
    Eden opened her eyes and smiled faintly at David. “Think I’ve slept enough the past few days.”
    “Then how about we go downstairs and watch a movie? The new version of Anna Karenina is on in an hour.”
    “I’d like that. Give me a few, and I’ll be there. I want a shower or something first.”
    He nodded. “I’ll run you a bath. Probably safer than standing under the shower.”
    ****
    Sitting on the couch, with Eden next to him, David felt like time had rewound. It felt so right. Eden’s head inched closer to his shoulder until it rested against him. Her damp hair smelled so good. He moved his arm and wrapped it around her.
    Eden stiffened, then relaxed into him.
    He leaned his face against the top of her head. “I missed this,” he whispered.
    “Me too. I missed you. We used to be able to talk about anything. Even stuff I couldn’t tell Hanna.”
    Curiosity got the better of him. “Like what?”
    “Stuff about Eric. The trouble I