Gravitate (8 page)

I straightened myself upright, so t
hat I could look into his eyes. “The details are minor.
You love me, I feel the same but I’m not
allowed to say.
Some people might say it is the perfect set up – you could have a million girlfriends, all sworn to secrecy, none of us aware of each other!”

Marty looked offended.
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone, you’re the only one for me.”

“I
know, I know, I was joking. I’m in an odd situation. Joking is my way of coping.”
I tugged the duvet closer around me, wishing it was his arms.

“Sorry, Claudia, I just hate you thin
king I would ever do you wrong.
It goes against every fibre in my being.” He move
d over and held me in his arms.
We breathed together for a few minutes.

“So, what can you tell me?”
I was curious to know everything I could, despite knowing anything he said wouldn’t change the way I felt about him.

“It’s complicated.
Please remember, whatever I say, I’ve never meant you any harm and I’ve always been working in your best interests.”

“O
f course.” I kissed him gently.
“Please, tell me something.”

“What have you figured out for yourself already?”

“Not much.
I know you were trying to push me into a relationship with Ben, even though I was falling for you an
d you felt the same way for me.
I know you have an uncanny reaction ti
me for catching me when I fall.
I know you’re the most gentle, well meaning and humble person I’ve ever come across.”

“I don’
t know how much I can tell you.
I’m sorry for trying to lead you towards Ben – I thought I was acting in your best interests.  I don’t feel good for not telling you everything, telling l
ies is not in my nature at all.
I feel so wonderfully happy being with you like this,
yet I feel selfish and guilty.
Nothing like this h
as ever happened to me before.”
He looked down, and wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“You’
ve never been in love before?”

“Never.
Have you? I shouldn’t even be asking that. Please forgive me, I can’t seem to control myself around you.”

“That’s a perfectly normal question, why shouldn’t you ask it?”

“I shouldn’t be asking you that question.” Marty emphasised the word ‘you’. “I shouldn’t even be having this conversation with
you.
I should have left when I realised I was falling for you, but I thought I could handle it
and now, I don’t want to leave.
I guess I’m not as self-sacrificing as I thought.” Mar
ty held his head in his hands.

“Marty, I’ve never been in love before either, but I honestly
don’t see what the problem is.
You’re no
t married or anything are you?”
I tried to make it a joke.

“Definitely not.
I’m just not me
ant to feel this way about you.
I’m going against everythi
ng I’ve known before I met you.
And, for once in my life, I don’t know what will happen next.”

“Do you usually know what happens next?”

“Let’s just sa
y, I’m normally very intuitive.
I do have a feeli
ng that we’re on borrowed time.
I can’t say I see a happy ending waiting for us as a couple.” He rubbed his templ
es and lines furrowed his brow.
I’d never
seen him looking so concerned.
“I can’t pull myself away from you for my sake, but if you asked
me to leave, I’d go right now.
I’d do anything for you.”

“Why can’t we have a happy ending?” I could feel my eyes glazing over with tears, but they hadn’t spilled over yet.

“I just can’t see it – but then again, things aren’t cl
ear for me when I’m around you.
In the pub the other day, I should have seen the danger building up and taken you away before it began, but I j
ust didn’t recognise the signs.
I was so angry with mys
elf for putting you in danger.
I want to shelter you from harm, but I was so distracted by you that I couldn’t see what was
coming.” He cast his eyes down.
I didn’t know what to
say to him.
He took a deep breath and continued: “It’s as though being with you sto
ps me from being my usual self.
Everything used to be mundane and I knew where I stood, but with you it’s as though ever
ything is exciting, but scary.
My life before you was in black and white, and now it’s all colour.” Marty smiled, then immediately re
turned to a serious expression.
“I can’t see how this can work for us – much as I’d love nothing more
than to stay with you forever.
You should find another man and have a proper life where you won’t have to hide your feelings.”

“I don’t want another man. I want you.
I don’t care if I can’t tell you how I feel,
as long as you know how I feel.
And if we are on borrowed time, well they say it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all – after the year I’ve ha
d I certainly know that’s true.
I lost my parents and I didn’t know how I would live past that, but I wouldn’t take away one second
of the time I spent with them.
If we are on borrowed time, I wa
nt to make the most of it.
I know you can’t tell me everything about you, and there is a lot of stuff that isn’t making sense to me at the moment, but being with you makes me f
eel happier than anything else.
I’m not going to give up on a chance of happiness.”

“You don’t even know what I am.”

“I know what you’re not.
You’re not like
any of the other men I’ve met.
And you’re not going to tell me what you are, so I’m not going to waste any more
of our time worrying about it.
Perhaps ignorance is bliss.”

“You’re prepared for it all to end some day?”

“T
here are no guarantees in life.
Everything ends some day.”

“In that case, I’ll be with you until I’m forced to leave.”

I’d told myself, and Marty, that it didn’t matter to me if I didn’t know the details about him, but once I was alone, t
houghts tumbled around my head.
Marty had gone down to the kitchen to make breakfast and the time away from him forced my mind to consid
er what I’d gotten myself into.
I had fallen deeply and although I wanted to believe that ignorance was bliss, I couldn’t avoid the unanswered questions that echoed in my brain. Whilst brushing my teeth, snippets of our conversations and the things he had reportedly said to Ben
, cart-wheeled around my head.
I recalled the partial discussion I’d overheard on the day he gave me the locket I w
as absentmindedly playing with.
At the time, I’d thought he had been talking abou
t an assignment for his course.
Now, with the benefit of hindsight, I wondered if there was more to wha
t he’d said than I’d realised.

What troubled me the most was that Marty had said I didn’t know what he was
. Not, who, but what.
I trusted him implicitly, yet now the truth was sinking in – Marty wasn’t like
me, he was something different.
Whatever he was,
he certainly wasn’t a student.

I didn’t want to push Marty to tell me why he was different – clearly there was something stopping him from being upfront that was beyond his control – but he had asked
what I had already figured out.
He’d also said that tellin
g lies went against his nature.
I wondered if I could unravel enough of the mystery to understand why he
felt we were on borrowed time.

My heart raced as I walked down t
he stairs and into the kitchen.
I didn’t want him to feel I was going back on our previous conversation, but I desperately
wanted to know more about him.
The smell of frying eggs and hot, buttered toast wafted to my nostrils, and I could
hear Marty humming to himself.
A
t least he was in a good mood.

“Ma
rty, can I ask a few questions?
Just some things I’ve been wondering about – I’m not
changing my mind or anything.”
I felt shy agai
n, as he gave me a happy grin.

“Of course and I will try to
answer them as well as I can.”
Marty switched off th
e stove and turned to face me.

“Are you really a student?”
His happy face showed an instant transformation into a serious one.

“No, I
’m not still a medical student.
I did take on that role, but it isn’t who I am.”

“That’s fine with me, but can you tell me what you were studying at the library last night?” I was trying my hardest to keep my voice light, I didn’t want him to think I was
interrogating him.

“Last night was personal research – seein
g if my case was unprecedented. Which it is. I’m not a student. I qualified many years ago.
I could walk through the tasks for a medical student with my eyes closed.” I could see the dilemma on his face – he desperately wanted to tell me everything, keeping this secret was clearly painful for him.

“That’s handy to know, what with me
being so clumsy and everything!” W
e both smiled at my joke. “So, why are you pretending to be a student?”

“It sounds terrible when you put it like th
at.
It was the
right thing to do, at the time.
It
was a way to get close to you.”
He looked ashamed and focused back on the food, placing toast and eggs on the plates with far more care than necessary.

“You wanted to g
et close to me from the start?”
I felt so confused, I thought he’d been fighting off his attraction to me.

“Not in a romantic sense.
I
was trying to gain your trust.
Th
is is sounding worse and worse.
I’m not some seedy, lecherous
man, you have to believe that.”
He concentrated on putting the plates on the table.

“Marty,” I put one of my hands on his hand and with the other I brushed his cheek, forcing hi
m to meet my eyes, “I know you.
I
could never think badly of you.
I know there is a lot more going on here than I can figure out on m
y own.
Part of me hopes that if I know what your secret is, then perhaps we can make sure of our happy ending.”

“I know, baby. Keep thinking about it. Ask any questions you like.
Just remember not to tell me you love me, and when we’re outside of the house, we have
to act like we’re just friends.
Nobody can know how w
e really feel about each other.
It’s one thing for me to be in love with you, but quite
another for you to reciprocate.
If they found out…well, I wouldn’t be here with you anymore.”

“We’re alright inside the house though?” I didn’t want to accept these rules with no questions asked, but I didn’t want Marty to
disappear from my life either.

“As long as there is no evidence of your attac
hment to me, I can remain here.
Eat your breakfast, honey, it’s getting cold.”

“I don’t know quite how we go from talking about people finding out about my feelings and you disappearing from my life to suddenly thinking about breakfast,” I giggled, in spite of the situation, “but I have to say, this smells amazing, thank you for cooking for me.  I’ve never had a man make me breakfast before.”

“I’d do anything for you, you know that.”

We’d eaten the br
eakfast whilst chatting easily.
Marty had revealed that he was actually working as a doctor at a cancer hospice, looking after people who were
nearing the end of their lives.
It was something he found fulfilling, and close enough to what he’d told me he did, that it eased his guilt about
not telling me the whole truth.
He’d signed up for longer and longer shifts when he’d felt himself falling for me; a tactic to avoid spendi
ng too much time alone with me.
He had a shift today that would last all day, but he said he couldn’t wait to get
home to see me in the evening.
As he left the house, I felt he looked far too young and handsome t
o be a fully qualified doctor.