It's Love But There's A Problem

He was up and gone the next morning and I came down to breakfast in my workout clothes, not intending any changes.

"I'm no longer your patient so you're free to do what you want now," Bobby said, still in his robe and reading the news.

I kissed him, tasting the coffee on his lips. "Yes I am free to do what I want and I want us to work out together. We both need to stay in shape and we're already in the habit."

"Let me take today off and I'll be back at it again with you tomorrow." It was a statement that didn't allow for discussion.

"Okay," I said and headed to the gym.

"How's the water?" I looked up. Bobby was standing at the edge of the pool in shorts and a sport shirt.

"Perfect! Are you going golfing?"

"Nah."

"Why not? I know they keep calling to ask you to go play eighteen with them."

"Because I don't want to, that's why," he snapped.

"Okay then, let's go out somewhere for dinner this evening! There's a new French place downtown I'd like to try."

He hesitated a moment. "Nah, not feeling it today."

I floated on my back running different angles through my head. I opened my eyes and he sat at a nearby table in the shade of its umbrella.

"Why are you so afraid to be seen in public?"

"I'm not!" He scowled.

"When was the last time you were out? Before your stroke right?" No giving him time to answer I continued on. "It's time, Bobby. Only those closest to you will notice any residual effects. The general public just wants to see you again. You know they love to hate you!" I laughed, and he did too.

"They do, yes. Love-hate." He drummed his fingers on the table. "I don't know. I'm just not ready yet."

A week later he still wasn't ready and we were both like prisoners in the house.

'I'm moving out," I said one morning at breakfast.

He looked up from his morning newsfeed. "Why?"

"I feel like a prisoner here, Bobby. We never go out. I know I can go out, but it's not the same. I want to go out with you. To lunch. Shopping. For a ride even." I hesitated. "Sometimes I wonder if it's that you don't want to be seen with me."

"Sia, for god's sake, that's not it! It's just that it's taking me a little longer to go out in public than I thought."

"It doesn't help that you can run your businesses from this house. If you had to go to an office or something...." I trailed off. "Anyway, Peter is arranging for my bags to be put in my car today and--"

"Today?!" he shouted, interrupting me. "You didn't even discuss it with me." He scowled.

"We've been through this ever since I signed off on your contract. You were doing great then and ready to leave this place. I've asked you to go lots of places with me since then." He didn't reply so I continued on. "I'll leave you my address where I live with my sister. You have my phone number of course."

I put my hand on his shoulder and leaned over to kiss him. He was cool with a chaste kiss and I was dismissed when he went back to his newsfeed.

By four o'clock Peter had my car packed and waiting at the front steps.

"It has been a real pleasure having you here ma'am," he said. "You were good for Bobby. I'm sorry to see you go, but I wish you the best." He shook my hand.

I put my seatbelt on and started the car to see a full tank of gas, thanks to Peter I'm sure. I never saw Bobby beyond breakfast.

...

Two months later I was back from another live-in job.

"Did you hear from him?" Lynn asked for the eleventy billionth time.

"No I did not and by now I don't expect to. Let's drop it please."

"Under any other circumstances I would but--"

"Lynn please!" I said sternly. She scowled but dropped the subject.

The next day Lynn answered the door as I came out from the kitchen. Then I saw him.

"Hello, Sia."