Incapable (Love Triumphs 3)

He nodded.

She jammed the heel of her hand against her forehead. “Oh Damon, that was a stupid thing for me to say. I can’t imagine how it feels for you. So strange?”

A nod.

But that was completely inadequate. He had to be freaked out. He couldn’t see and he couldn’t make a sound. He was locked in darkness,

and with no voice he had no way to control his environment. She found his hand and they clasped. “Scary?”

He was still, then a slow nod and he squeezed her hand, his breathing quickening.

“It’s going to be all right. You’re going to be fine. I’ll be there when you come home.” She hadn’t told him this was probably a bad time to take leave without pay from Avocado. “You won’t have to be alone. Between Taylor and me, there’ll be someone with you all the time. You can type out orders all day long and make us jump.”

He nodded, but he had few other options and her heart contracted for him. “I love you, with or without your voice.”

He reacted by releasing her, putting a hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut.

She couldn’t read that nuance. Her comment had either upset him because it was sweet or because it was unbelievable. “Write it down.”

A head shake. Eyes open and blinking at her, he touched his throat.

“It feels awful? Can I get a nurse?”

He shook his head and a hunk of hair fell over his forehead. He touched his lips then his throat. Her turn to shake her head in frustration, she didn’t know what he wanted.

He slapped a hand on the bed and pointed again, his lips, his throat.

Understanding uncurled the clench around her heart. “Oh, Damon.” She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down on his back, he winced and so did she. “I wish I did have the power to kiss it better.” She put a finger gently against his lips then to his throat, then shifted forward and did the same with her lips; the softest touch, the heaviest intention.

If only his healing was as simple as her kiss, as simple an element as his kiss had been in hers.

She settled her chin on her folded hands on his chest and watched his face. Eyes closed again, but there was tension in his body and his hands were restless on her.

“You should sleep more. I’ll be here when you wake. Doc will be here in the morning around ten and Taylor went shopping and stocked the fridge with all your favourites, and I’m prattling because I don’t really know what else to do and I don’t want you to feel shut in.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. This was harder than she’d thought it would be. “We’re going to need a sign you can use to tell me to shut up. Why didn’t we work that out already? Maybe pistol fingers to your head when you’re sick of me rabbitting on.”

He breathed out hard through his nose and that could mean, well, anything, nothing. He found the band in her hair and pulled it out. He was rough, dragging it, pulling hairs out of her head with it, but she didn’t care. He got a good handful of her curls and wrapped his fingers through it. He took deeper breaths, and some of the strain in his neck and shoulders gave way.

It was going to be a long two weeks for him.

They stayed that way until his slack hands, his breathing and heavy stillness told her he was asleep again. She moved his hand from her back and slithered out of his embrace, stiff from the odd side-saddle position she’d been in. Angus was standing just outside the door.

“How is he?”

She stepped outside with him. “Rattled. It has to be the scariest thing. It’ll be better when he’s home. He can have music and books while he waits it out.”

“He won’t be right till he can talk, till he can do his voices again. That’s everything to him.”

Hearing Angus say that made Georgia tense. She’d told Damon she loved him without his voice, but did she understand what that would mean? Forget his singing, forget his character voices. Would he be the same if he couldn’t express himself off a page? How much a part of anyone is their voice? How much personality is in words said, laughter given, the inarticulate sounds of fear and pain and love? How much a part of Damon’s mastery of his blindness was his ability to call the world to his attention and make it listen?

She would love his touch, his body, his heart, but to never have his sexy whispers raise goosebumps on her skin, his muttered endearments make her soul hum, his loud declarations and his wit and humour in her life would be a loss that stunned her.

“Georgia.”

“Sorry. He’s been so calm about all of this, but before they shot him full of anaesthetic he had a moment…” She shook her head. It was panic but she didn’t want to betray Damon by telling Angus that. She was having that moment now. There was absolutely no risk of Damon losing his voice altogether. “I’ve been thinking about how much a part of anyone their voice is, so for Damon how incredibly frightening this must be.”

Angus’ eyes were on Damon. “He could give up singing, but if this affects his voices, his career, it’ll kill him.” He looked back to Georgia. “He was never the blind kid. He was always the kid who could imitate any sound, anyone. He learned to live in his voice. It was his superpower, even as his sight failed.” He shook his head, grinning. “He was a dick with it when we were younger. A real show-off. He used to pretend to be Jamie on the phone and send me off on non-existent rescue missions. I fell for that every time. Except the one time it was true, and I left Jamie stranded miles from home with a flat tire, no spare for the ute and an empty asthma puffer. He once imitated the local cop and convinced my dad that me and Jamie had been arrested for snowdropping.” Angus scrubbed at his hair. “Jesus. He has to be better than all right.”