Her Melting Point

Alexander Makes an Effort

Remember all those times when you chickened out of bringing it up with him? Jackie asked herself. She'd definitely made her bed, figuratively speaking; and it was time to take a horizontal position in it.

"Right, yeah, I was going to talk to you about it."

She probably shouldn't have mumbled with a shifty expression, considering the frowned look he was giving her now.

He handed her the letter. "You don't have to, but–" He paused, probably trying to find the right words. "But please, try to tell me if something is wrong."

Jackie stared at him in confusion. "Nothing is wrong. Oh, I just got it." She tapped her finger on the top of the envelope. "I know it says 'Women's Health & Cancer' but I was there for the health part. And I'm well. Totally healthy! Nothing is wrong," she repeated emphatically.

As inexpressive as he was, she could see his whole body relax.

"My mother," he said quietly, "my adoptive mother died of cancer. I don't know any details. Dom told me later that she'd refused treatment." He faced away from Jackie. "I was little, so I didn't understand. Nothing changed. No hospitals. No one talked about anything. I only remember her getting worse. And then she collapsed and died on the kitchen floor when I was at school. Dom found her."

"Oh god," Jackie breathed out.

She impulsively stretched her hands to him - and stopped herself, remembering the night when she'd found him on the steps of her cottage.

"Oh darling, I know you said you didn't want any pity," she exhaled, "but–"

He lunged forwards and wrapped around her, crushing her. She embraced him back, squeezing him as hard as she could.

"It's OK when it's you," he whispered.

Jackie stroked the back of his head. In the next few minutes, while they sat embracing tightly, she almost spoke five or six times; but she held back her questions and her reassurance. He'd once told her that he'd been in therapy on and off since he'd left Fleckney; but due to his ASD, it never came easy to him. Sharing his trauma outside formal sessions would be an even bigger challenge, which made his openness with her only more precious.

"I'm sorry that I delayed you," he finally said, releasing her; his face impassive again.

"It's OK," she answered softly. "I'm in no hurry to leave you." She cupped his jaw and tenderly kissed the corner of his mouth. "I love you," she murmured.

Somehow her confessions - not that she was particularly stingy with them - tended to hit him between his eyes pretty much every time. He blinked, his lips half-opened; vulnerable, raw emotions for once splashing in his dark irises; and Jackie leaned in and caught his mouth in a kiss.

"Jackie..."

She was the one who had to halt them this time. She was already on his lap; and it was obvious that she had but a few seconds before he was going to rip her clothes off. She pulled back, and he made a distressed noise. Jackie placed a few small kisses on his cheeks and his nose.

"I'm sorry, darling, but you are right. I do need to go to work," she said and patted his knee. "Can we talk tonight, about the clinic and the test results? It's nothing bad, I promise."

He studied her and then nodded. "Do you want me to come over?"

"Yeah, sure, either is fine. Or we can meet here - to spice things up," she joked.

"Come over then. I'll cook you dinner."

"Oh, pushing all the right buttons, Mr. Fergusson," Jackie murmured and gave him a flirty side glance, batting her eyelashes.