Her phone ringing, vibrating, and shaking the tray on the side table was what woke her up. She stretched her hand and swiped without looking at the screen.

"Hey, babe," Rhys said, and then gave up his usual half-chuckle, half-snort - the sound that he made when he thought he was being exceptionally funny.

Viola blinked a few times, trying to understand what time it was. She sat up slowly, immediately aware of the distasteful pulling ache in her lower stomach.

"Vi?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here," she muttered and looked at her watch.

It was half past seven. He had his tea, and now he's lonely, she thought.

"I'm not actually calling you 'babe.' I know you don't fancy it," he said quickly. "I was referring–"

"Yes, I remember," she said and rubbed her eyes with her left hand. "I'm sorry, I was sleeping. I'm a tad groggy."

"Oh sorry," he said softly. "Do you want to go back to your nap?"

She realised she'd expected him to tease her for sleeping in the middle of a day - but that would be just her inner critic talking. It was almost funny how these days she constantly needed to remind herself that the real Rhys was quite different from the Rhys in her head.

"It's OK," she said and sighed. "Rhys, something–"

The word 'happened' just sort trembled on her lips, and she cleared her throat. If she spoke about it, all of it would become reality: the bleeding, the tests she'd have to go through, the treatment she was going to need, a surgery she most likely would have to go through, the medication, the hormones, and lastly, her possible infertility.

She would have discussed it with him, had it happened ten years or more earlier. But... who is Rhys Holyoake to you now?

If she just chatted with him, said her goodbyes, and went back to sleep, she wouldn't have to deal with it for a few more hours.

Except she just didn't want to 'deal with it' alone. Not anymore.

"Something happened," she said firmly. "I actually spent this night in the hospital."

"What?!" he barked on the other end. "I mean– Sorry. Please, go on."

His civil - choked, robotic - tone was so forced that Viola couldn't help but chuckle. She suddenly clearly imagined how he was clenching his left hand in a giant fist, keeping himself from barging in and interrogating her and trying to solve all her problems right now, right here. Just as he fixes generators and uprights fallen poles.

"I'm OK now," she said and then closed her eyes. "Actually, no, I'm not. I'm in pain, and I'm upset, and–" Her voice wavered, and she took a slow measured breath.

They were both silent for a few seconds, and then she smiled without opening her eyes.

"I love you," she said - and that was when the first tears spilled. "And thank you. God... Thank you so much for not asking anything right now."

He was still quiet, and she assumed he was fighting against every possible urge to behave in the usual Rhys manner.

"It has to do with my reproductive system," she said quickly, taking pity on the poor man. "It turned out I have this condition– it's called endometriosis. It's not good. It's not cancer, but–" She wiped her tears. "It's not good. And now there are all these tests and procedures, and– God, I've had enough hospital visits and ultrasounds and waiting for test results, and all the worrying and–"

She pulled her knees to her chest and dropped her forehead on them.

"What are you doing right now?" she asked in a small voice.

"Nothing." He was raspy. "I've had dinner with Nana, and– Vi, I'm–" His voice broke as well.

"Can you come and pick me up, please?" she whispered. "I know it's almost a two hour drive, but–"

"I'll be there in an hour," he said, and Viola snorted into her knees.

"Please, don't rush," she said. "I've seen enough car crashes recently to last me a lifetime."

"Alright, I'll be there in an hour and ten minutes," he said, and she heard a shadow of humour in his voice. "And, Vi?"

"Yes?"

"I love you too."

***

She thought she'd give herself another half an hour in bed before she started packing. After all she'd hardly taken anything out of her rose golden Antler Juno. She set an alarm - and somehow didn't hear it. It was her phone ringing again that made her sit up sharply in her bed. It was the front desk, and she confirmed that yes, indeed, a Rhys Holyoake was supposed to arrive for her, and would they please be so kind as to direct him to her room.

She climbed off the bed, pulled on her dressing gown, and heard his confident rattling knock on the door. She opened it, and he scooped her in a tight embrace after taking just one step into her room. And of course, that's when she started to cry.

He closed the door behind him, and jerked his arm out of the sleeve of his jacket, still pressing her into him with the other one.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. Her nasal voice sounded rather disgusting to her.

"Don't be daft," he said, switched hands, and shook the jacket off onto the floor.

"I haven't started packing yet, and–" She sniffled. "I fell asleep again, and–"

"Come," he said softly, wrapping his arm around her shoulder after she leaned into him.

He maneuvered her to the bed, and they both sat down. She pressed her forehead into his chest, and gave out a long, shuddered sigh.

"I googled it," he said quietly. "Endometriosis."

"Oh," she said in the most neutral way possible.

She didn't want to lift her head, face him, and talk. She just wanted to sit like this, her nose full of his smell, and his arms around her.

"What do you need right now?" he asked, and she snorted in surprise.

"That's not the first time you're asking such a 'progressive' question, love. Did Oliver tell you to do it?" she joked.

"Yes," he deadpanned, and Viola looked up at him. He gave her a small warm smile. "When we had that talk. He said it's an aggro with– well, 'men like me.'" The corner of his lips curled up. "That we don't ask, and we assume. I've arsed it up with your eating thing, I'm not doing it with your–"

He pointed at her lap with his eyes, and Viola giggled. It felt as if she was thawing - warming up near him, a nasty ice cold knot uncoiling behind her sternum.

"You aren't. I did feel comfortable enough to tell you about it, didn't I?" she said and pressed into him again. "I just– I don't handle being ill well. Actually, I don't handle it at all. I'd been hiding my heart issues for months before I collapsed and they took me into an A&E. I just– I'm scared of hospitals, and being bed-ridden, and– It's the lack of control, and feeling like my body has betrayed me, after all my efforts."

He didn't interrupt, simply holding her hand, and Viola rubbed her cheek to his jumper.

"And then again, anything to do with sex and–" She inhaled and exhaled purposefully. "And pregnancy... It's properly not a good time for this sort of considerations."

"Why?" he asked in a low voice.

"Because I'm not married - or divorced for that matter," she scoffed. "We've just gotten back together; it's all new and still in the air, so to say." She peeked to see his reaction, but his face was unreadable. "And I'm thirty six, Rhys. Suddenly, it's all become an urgent matter, while for the past few years I've just been pretending it's all– well, that I missed my chance and I'm just one of the women for whom it never happened. It just adds so much pressure into every little question about my love life. And yours," she added softly. "If you want to be part of this... mess."

"I am a part of this mess," he said firmly, and she nodded.

They sat without talking for a few minutes, and then she sighed.

"I don't want to–" She let out a long exhale through her rounded lips. "I don't want to deal with it. Not just yet. I just want to pretend it's not happening."

"We can stay here tonight," he offered. "Have tea, spend the night. Have Chelsea buns for breakfast." She smiled at him. He quickly kissed her cheek. "You wanted some time away from Fleckney. Let's just have that. If you don't have to go to a doctor's right away, because I really rather you not dawdle and then collapse. Driving you to an A&E would spoil my vaccy, you know?"

She laughed and kissed the corner of his mouth. She'd always found his dry humour so sexy. Pain slashed around her lower stomach, and she couldn't hide a cringe.

"Vi?" he asked with concern.

She shook her head and hid her face into his shoulder.

"I have an appointment with my gynaecologist in three days. There isn't much to be done before it," she said. "So, I reckon you can have your 'vaccy,' if you want it that much," she drew out.

"Alright," he said. "And, Vi?"

"Yes?"

"When you feel like it– if you feel like it, can you just explain it to me in simple terms? The whole hormones and– pregnancy part of it?" Viola nodded. "And I get it, alright?" he added. "It's just– now you have to decide whether you want to marry me again, and have my babies, right away instead of taking your time, which you'd prefer, and now–"

"Rhys, darling, do you know what 'mansplaining' is?" Viola asked, her voice shaking with laughter.

"No," he answered. "What is it?"

Viola shifted, wrapped her arms around his neck - and pushed him back, making him flop on the bed, with her on top of him.

"You know, you're lucky I'd been married to you before," she said, and he gawked at her. "Otherwise the fact you have obviously already decided whether you want to marry me again and have my babies - and I haven't failed to notice that it's plural - would properly freak me out right now."

He continued staring at her aghast, and she settled on top of him and closed her eyes.

"I need a few minutes of enjoying this–" She patted his chest. "And then we're ordering room service. Alright?"

"Sure," he said and embraced her.