A Cure for Love

‘My parents were told then that if I had inherited the disorder then the chances were that I wouldn’t survive beyond my early teens.

‘My father was one of those men who wanted sons. A very macho man…in that sense. I would say a complete coward in others. He obviously couldn’t face up to what had happened, and so he left my mother…divorced her and went to live in Australia.

‘She never told me any of this, and by some fluke I turned out to be one of the rare cases where, although I had inherited the defective gene, the effects of the disorder had never materialised.

‘When I received that letter—at first I couldn’t believe it…didn’t want to believe it. It was like a nightmare…like descending into hell. I had no idea who to turn to…what to do. There I was, m…’

He paused. ‘Perhaps in my own way I was as much a coward as my father. All I know is I couldn’t bear the thought of putting any woman through what my mother must have had to endure with me…what, I had now learned, women carrying the disorder did go through when they gave birth to male children, and so…’

‘So you opted for a vasectomy,’ Lacey supplied for him.

For a moment he hesitated. His face was pale and set, a muscle jerking painfully in his jaw.

‘Yes. I opted for a vasectomy,’he agreed heavily.

Lacey had no idea what to say. She was overwhelmed with shock and compassion. How could any father treat his son the way Lewis’s had treated him? She could hardly bear to remember that she had been the one who had initially encouraged him to seek him out.

‘If I hadn’t encouraged you to find your father…’ she began painfully, but he shook his head, stopping her.

‘No, you mustn’t say that. Far, far better that I did find out than…’ He stopped and swallowed and Lacey knew he must be thinking of her…that other woman. Where was she now? Why had they split up? Had it been because of his disorder?

Impulsively she reached out towards him, placing her hand on his arm. Beneath her fingertips his flesh felt hot, the muscles hard. The sensation of his skin beneath her own momentarily distracted her, and then she looked up at him and saw the bleakness in his eyes and told him softly, ‘Lewis, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened…between you…you and her, but no woman who loved…who loved a man could ever turn away from him because he…because he had made the decision not to have any children…no matter how much she herself might have wanted them.’

As she spoke she knew illuminatingly that for her it was true, that, given the choice all those years ago, even though she had desperately wanted a family, she would willingly have sacrificed that need to be with him. Lewis himself would always have had prior claim on her love.

‘No. Maybe not…but I could never live with myself if I had asked a woman, especially a woman whom I knew wanted children, to give them up…no matter how much she might love me. To do so would have been cheating on her and cheating on our love.’

He was looking at her as he spoke, and for some reason his words made her ache and tremble almost as though they were directed at her, and not towards someone else.

‘You’re a very compassionate woman, Lacey,’ he told her rawly. ‘The kind of woman it’s all too dangerously easy for a man to love.’

And then he raised his hands to her face and, gently cupping it, leaned forward and kissed her mouth.

It was, she recognised as tears stung her eyes, a kiss of peace…of sadness…a kiss without passion or need; and yet, even as the thought formed, it changed, the pressure of his mouth hardening fractionally, the way his hands held her face betraying a hint of tension.

Almost without knowing what she was doing, she moved towards him, her mouth soft and inviting, her lips clinging to his.

For a moment she thought that it was going to happen, that he was after all going to kiss her, and then outside an owl hooted and he was releasing her, moving away from her, saying unsteadily, ‘I’d better go. It’s getting late.’

‘You’ll call round in the morning to see Jessica off,’ Lacey reminded him as she too stood up.

In the half-darkness he hesitated, almost as though he was torn between leaving and coming back to her. She held her breath, waiting…hoping…and then didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved when he finally turned back to the door, confirming, ‘Yes, I’ll be here.’

‘SO THAT’S it now, until half-term,’ Jessica mourned as she put the last of her things in her car. ‘Still, never mind, it isn’t long to wait, and once we get these tests out of the way…Well, let’s just say that I’m rather looking forward to having two parents to come home to.’

Guilt, pain, and illogically something close to anger followed one another in quick succession as Lacey listened to her daughter.

The anger she suppressed. It was unfair of her to feel resentful and hurt, to feel almost as though she had to justify herself and her actions to Jessica. After all, it wasn’t Jessica’s fault that she had found Lewis and her mother in bed together, was it?

But sooner or later Jessica would have to be told the truth, and Lacey was beginning to wish that she had been told it right from the start.

Lewis had already left. He had called round earlier on to wish Jessica a safe journey and then had announced that he had to leave.

To Lacey he had said quietly that he knew she would want a few minutes to herself with Jessica. His consideration had surprised her a little, bringing the quick sting of emotional tears to her eyes.

She had become far too emotional recently, too quick to allow her feelings to control her life, her nerves in a constant state of rawness and tension.

She had wanted Lewis to go, had been relieved to see him go; and yet at the same time she had longed for him to stay, for him…for him to what? To love her as she had once believed that he did? Was she really so stupid?