It's Only Temporary

Chapter 40: Risk Minimization

David lay in bed with Penny spooned against him. He hadn't moved a muscle for nearly an hour now. It was late, but he knew he wouldn't fall asleep again. He couldn't stop thinking about what she had said when he'd awakened next to her earlier.

"I don't understand you."

She'd whispered it, her voice so low that he had to strain to understand. He'd tried to play it off lightly, but her words had set the alarm bells ringing in his head. And then she'd started crying. He'd kissed her tears away - first her eyes, then her mouth - and she'd allowed him to soothe her. She'd wrapped her arms around his neck again and laced her fingers into his hair, and her tears were all gone by the time they'd finished with each other once again.

She slept peacefully beside him now. He could feel the even rise and fall of her breathing as she lay encircled in his arms. He wanted to believe that the storm had passed. Whatever had made her sad before - he'd managed to reassure her. But he couldn't set aside memory of the tears running down her cheeks. He couldn't silence the endless stream of questions running through his mind.

"I don't understand you."

What did it mean? Was she having doubts? Second thoughts? Had he gone to bed with her too quickly? Would she regret it in the morning? Was this all he would ever have with her? One night with Penelope, before she pulled away from him again?

His arms tightened around her possessively at the thought.  He felt the rhythm of her breathing change.

"Shhhhh," he whispered against her hair. He wasn't ready for her to wake. Not yet. He needed more time to figure out what those tears had meant, but it was too late now. He felt her weight shift. Then she turned in his arms to face him.

"You're not sleeping?" she mumbled drowsily. She sighed, and then she pressed her face into the crook of his neck.

"Shhhhh," he whispered again, rocking her gently in his arms. "I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

She lifted her face and looked up at him, her voice more alert now. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing." He shook his head. "All good. Very, very good."

She touched his cheek. "Look at me."

He'd kept his eyes carefully aimed at the bedside table over her shoulder, but he forced himself to meet her gaze. Her eyes narrowed in a silent question. There was something more she needed from him. He understood that much. But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what it was she wanted to hear.

"What's wrong?" she asked again. She reached behind her to switch on the bedside lamp.

"Nothing," he protested, blinking against the glare. His fingers itched to switch the light back off - to return them both to the safe cover of darkness. He wasn't ready for this conversation. He needed more time to think. He needed to go over everything she'd said to him - every expression that had crossed her face - and make sense of it all. Plan his next move. If he said the wrong thing, he might make it all worse. She might slip right through his fingers again. The thought made his chest clench with anxiety.

"David?"

"I don't know. I-Penny, I don't understand you either."

"What don't you understand?"

"Why were you upset before?"

She shrugged. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry." He gripped the nape of her neck with both of his hands, weaving his fingers through her hair. "Tell me what's wrong. I need you to tell me."

"Nothing. I just-I'm just a little unclear on what this is. That's all."

"What this is...."

"Is it just tonight?" Her voice rose a little higher as she spoke. "I mean, that's OK. I'm OK. I can just re-book my flight and-"