Page 95 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2

“Stop coddling her.” Grumps burst out angrily as he drew next to Matt.

“Grumps, not now,” Matt bit out, turning to glare at his grandfather.

Grumps stared at me for a second while Matt’s attention was focused on him. The stinging slap across my face was unexpected to say the least. Matt hissed in disbelief even as Grumps got right up in my face. He hadhitme, bitch-slapped me like a pro. A few murmursof shock rippled through the space. Damn. I was shocked too!

“Stop this at once. You’re a Bradley, act like one.” Grumps demanded of me. I gasped, loud and quick. Then Grumps’s eyes softened and he patted my shoulder. “Now take a nice deep breath, Madison.” His tone was gruff but his eyes were a clear grey sea of expectancy. He expected me to get my shit together.

I gasped again, not as desperately as seconds earlier.

“That’s it,” Grumps continued to speak. “Slowly. Again.”

I inhaled raggedly through my mouth as my eyes filled with water.

Grumps’s expression resumed its usual sternness. “Don’t youdarecry in public. I will not allow such foolishness. It is a trait of the simpleminded masses unable to control their emotions.”

“Grumps, I swear to God, I’ll-”

“Be quiet, Matthew.” Grumps barked at him before twisting his body sideways. “Someone get me a bloody chair.” He turned back to me. “Keep breathing slowly. Really, Madison. This behaviour just won’t do. Slowly now, that’s it. Creating such a scene, I’m very disappointed in you. That’s it, nice and slow. Forcing me to hit you like that. I’m an old man, think about my brittle bones.”

The more he spoke the calmer my breathing got. I think it was due to incredulity. First he smacked me, now he was tellingmeoff forhimsmacking me? Grumps was certifiable, but his technique worked. I could breathe again, shaky and loud, but I was breathing.

“Now what is all this kerfuffle about, Madison?” Grumps kept his hand on my shoulder as Matt reached for me. Grumps wasn’t having any of it. He levelled a hard stare at his grandson, eyebrows raised. “Get a chair for your wife. Can you not see she’s unwell?”

Matt’s features jumped from extreme worry to intense frustration then back to the worry.

“Matt,” I croaked out. He grabbed me into a tight hug, ignoring his muttering grandfather.

“I know, poppet,” he whispered above my ear, his hold gentled at my barely audible whimper. “I’m sorry, so sorry.”

“H-home,” I inhaled sharply and felt Matt’s body tense, as if gearing up to deal with another one of my panic attacks. “I have to go home.”

He leaned back, scrutinizing my face before nodding. “Let me make a few calls then we can leave.”

I shook my head vehemently, clutching his jacket between mytrembling fingers. “No. Now. I have to go now, Matt. Please, please, please. I have to go.”

“You’re upsetting her, Matthew,” the cultured voice of Portia Bradley entered my ears. “That’s the last thing she needs if she’s prone to panic attacks.” My mother-in-law glided towards us. She gave Grumps a sidelong glance to which he huffed then stepped back, allowing her the room to approach Matt and me. “I don’t know what has occurred but I’d suggest you take Madison home now.” She rested a graceful hand on Matt’s shoulder, leaning in to murmur, “Whatever it is, Matty, do as she says and take her home.”

I didn’t know if she wanted me gone because I’d ruined her fancy party, or whether she’d recognized the fact I was teetering on the edge of a cliff right now. All I knew was Matt nodded once and we left. And I was grateful. For the first time since we met, he didn’t demand I buckle up. He held me on his lap, curtly issuing orders on his phone as Dan drove through the streets of London. My face remained buried in his neck as I clung to him.

“We’ll be home soon, sweetheart,” he assured me in between calls. “George is packing for us and Rachel is sorting out things with the pilot. We should be in the air within an hour.”

A low whimper fell from my lips. An hour. Add to that a further 6-7 hours flight. What if she – I stopped those thoughts immediately. She wouldn’t, couldn’t…she had better not do this to me.

“Madi,” Matt dug his fingers into my back, the perfect amount of pressure to remind me he was here with me. I wasn’t alone.

Whatever he planned on saying got put on hold as his cell rang. His demeanour once again became business-like and I tuned out his conversation. Diabetic coma. A coma. What if she never woke up? How would life be without my Aunt Cleo in it? We hadn’t spoken since Thanksgiving last year, the silence from her end had been painful, but deep down I knew things would eventually resolve itself. I thought maybe a couple of years give or take, enough time for her anger to mellow out, then things would get better. This was certain punishment for my betrayal. A part of me would cease to exist if she died. There, I thought the words.

Die. Dead. Death. Six frigging feet under. Worm food.

My arms tightened around Matt’s shoulders in response to the fear growing inside me. Not breaking his conversation he adjusted me in his lap with one hand before patting my lower back.

“Adam, I’ll call you once we land. Rachel has most of the paperwork at the office and the rest you can pick up at mines (pause) Yes, I’ll tell her (pause) No, I haven’t spoken to Mum or Dad since we left, you can fill everyone in for me. How are the girls? (pause) Right. Ok, I’ll call you when we land. Bye.”

Matt sighed then kissed the side of my face before making another call. I closed my eyes, maybe this was all some horrible nightmare. Maybe we hadn’t even arrived at the Anniversary party and we’d fallen asleep after making love in the backseat. Maybe it wasn’t even Thursday!

“It’s Matt here, Dante.” Matt’s deep voice rumbled through his chest. “I have some bad news.”

With half my attention I listened to him inform Dante of my aunt’s illness and our impending flight. Knowing that I was in no state to talk, Matt promised to have me call him as soon as we landed; it was the only way Dante would get off the phone without speaking to me.

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