He rubbed at his eyes and then his temples, as though to soothe an ache. “I feel fucking awful when I don’t have it. Right now it’s like there are these purple ants on my skin, crawling all over me, and I can feel every single one of them as they itch.”

I tried not to let my fear show as he expressed what he was feeling out loud. It was so easy to just accept that he was weaning himself off alcohol without thinking of how it felt. I wasn’t the one inside his body, having to feel every second of the agony.

“Do you think you can quit completely?” I asked before amending my question. “I mean, do you want to?”

He looked at me then, his eyes full of pain and regret. “I really don’t know.”

I swallowed, trying not to let his answer hurt me. It would be ridiculous to think that just because I was there, just because I’d found him, that he’d suddenly make a miraculous recovery. That his addiction would simply be forgotten because the woman who loved him had come to find him. Yes, I was upset, angry, even, but I wasn’t offended. It was unrealistic to think he could get better in the blink of an eye. I wasn’t an angel or a magical princess. I was just a person, and he was just a person, and together we were scrambling in the dark to try to understand each other.

King began to fidget, peeling the label from his now empty beer bottle. I wasn’t sure if it was a sign that he was antsy for more or if the conversation was making him irritable. I didn’t have it in me to offer to buy him a drink. A subject change was all I could manage.

“Do you know that your apartment is still there? Your mother has been taking care of its upkeep. All of your things are still there, too, and your piano. Have you played….”

“No,” King answered abruptly. “I don’t play anymore.”

I nodded, not pushing the matter, but simply told him, “You used to play so beautifully.”

“All of those things…they might be there, but they don’t feel like mine anymore. You should tell Mum to sell them, sell the penthouse, just, I don’t know, get rid of it. I don’t deserve any of it.”

“Of course you do. You worked your arse off to pay for everything.”

“There’s no point if no one else believes it.”

I didn’t get what he was talking about at first, but then it hit me. “You mean Bruce’s smear campaign? Oh, Oliver, all of that was exposed years ago. It came out during his trial. Your name has been completely cleared.”

His mouth moved in an odd way as he comprehended what I was telling him. He looked distressed, and again I felt like an idiot for so unceremoniously laying the facts on him. I just didn’t feel like there was any proper way to do it. No matter how careful or sensitive I was, the truth was going to be a difficult pill to swallow. King rose from his seat, standing in place for a second. I thought he was about to leave, distraught by the news that he’d been cleared of any misconduct. But then he started coughing again and sat down abruptly, his hand going to his chest like he was in serious pain. This time the wheezing sounded even worse, and my stomach tightened with worry.

“When was the last time you saw a doctor?” I asked, concerned. His look was all the answer I needed. He hadn’t seen a doctor in years. I was suddenly desperate to take him to the hospital and have him looked over, afraid he might have some awful illness caused by his alcohol abuse. Once his coughing fit died down, I suggested quietly, “You should let me take you.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

His abrupt answer rose my hackles, and before I had the chance to censor myself, I told it to him straight. “You used to be the smartest man I knew. So don’t give me that.”

I expected him to get angry or to fight me, which was why I got a surprise when a pained smile shaped his lips. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?”

I returned his smile, the tiny expression practically lighting me up from the inside out. I wanted to keep that smile, box it up as proof that happiness was still possible for him. “Nah, if anything, I’ve only gotten better with age.”

His intense eyes practically bored a hole in me. “I don’t doubt it.”

I shivered, and it was clear that he saw. “Cold?”

I shook my head. His eyes heated, and his chest rose and fell slowly as he took a deep breath. “What, then?”

“Just….” I sighed. “Memories.”

He raised a questioning brow. I kept staring at him until he finally understood, and then something in his posture shifted. He was less of the sick, vulnerable man and more of the old, confident King I once knew. It was only a glimpse, yet it affected me right down to the tips of my toes. A shudder ran through me, and King shifted closer, gaze alight, his words barely a whisper. “Tell me.”

“Do you remember the photo shoot?”

King smiled again, and my heart thudded. More, it urged, I need more of those to place in the sacred box of smiles. “The one where I figured out you were a dirty little liar? Why, yes, I believe I do.”

He was teasing me now, and my stomach did a somersault of glee. I needed to keep this going, keep him from thinking about the pain he was in.

“Well, I was just thinking of you in those jeans and how you didn’t even care that you were half-naked in a room full of people. You were so at ease with yourself.”

He shrugged and glanced down at the table, then back at me. “Nudity never bothered me.”

“I could tell. It was so fucking sexy. I was like, kill me now because there’s no way I’m gonna be able to keep pretending I’m a lesbo with this perfect male specimen.” I loved the sound of his soft answering chuckle and watched his reaction to my words carefully. I was delighted that they’d had the desired effect. They made him feel complimented, proud, to have once been worthy of female admiration. It meant he could feel that way again. I wanted him to see that there were things worth living for, and sometimes the small things were the best ones. Like when a woman notices you walking down the street, or when someone flirts with you and signals their attraction.

“I had started to become suspicious,” King admitted. “The way you looked at me sometimes….”

“What?” I prompted, eager to know what he’d been about to say.

He levelled me with his eyes. “Sometimes you’d look at me like you wanted me.”

I grew hot suddenly, and laughed to try to defuse the moment. “Well, your suspicions were spot on.”

He turned to face me fully then, his head tilting to the side in curiosity as his gaze drifted down my body acutely. “How long has it been for you?”

His question both surprised and took me off guard. Oh, how he could read me so well, even after all these years. It made my pores tingle to think he’d been paying attention. Yes, I knew exactly what he was asking, but the honest answer embarrassed me. In truth, it had been years since I’d last had sex.

King had been gone for months, disappeared without a trace. I’d just found out I was pregnant and was feeling terribly sorry for myself. Lee was still sniffing around Karla as they played their old I hate you, but I want to fuck you head games with each other. We were at a pub one night when the brothers had shown up. I wasn’t drinking, of course, but I wasn’t in my right mind, either. And when Stu came over and started laying on the moves, I succumbed to them. Admittedly, not my finest hour, but I was lonely and depressed and just wanted to feel the comfort of another human being. That was six years ago, and also the very last time I’d had sex.

I decided immediately that I wasn’t going to tell King about that night with Stu, because it would be counterproductive and pointless. However, I also wasn’t going to mislead him into believing I’d been with no one since him, either.

“Too many years,” I answered finally.

His eyes lingered on my mouth before moving up to meet my gaze. “You’re not with anyone now?”