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though in reality that’s precisely what I haven’t got.’ He shrugged. Even this movement was affected by the weakness on his left side. ‘I honestly think I’ve got my head around the dying bit.’ He smiled, crookedly. ‘It’s a lottery, isn’t it? How and when you “go”. I just so happen to have drawn a particularly crappy route to the Grim Reaper. I can accept that – most of the time. Why not me, eh? No. What’s really killing me is not the MND; it’s watching you watching me deteriorate.’

He shook his head, pre-empting her objections. ‘I know how impossible I am to live with. I’m withdrawn. Down. Let’s be honest, I’m a complete pain in the arse a lot of the time. I don’t want to be, I truly don’t, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than what’s happening to me. Other people’s lives, their everyday worries and concerns, just don’t seem that relevant or interesting to me any more. Even yours.’ He was staring at her, checking that his words were hitting their target. ‘And I know I get angry about the small stuff – you might even say unreasonably so. But that’s because there’s no point being angry about the big stuff, is there?’

He lifted his hand, a gesture to stop her interrupting. It shook, as it did all the time now. ‘With every day that passes, I get more and more frustrated. And as much as I try to be better – to be less of a total misery – I can’t. I fail every single day, and that failure makes me feel worse. That’s why I hide away in here. I truly can’t bear you seeing me like this. It’s utterly pointless, for both of us.’

She couldn’t let him go on. She had to challenge him, despite the truth in what he was saying, because if she didn’t challenge him, where did that leave them? ‘It’s not like that all the time. You have bad days and better days. I understand that. We’re coping.’

‘But it’s not enough, is it, Meg? It’s not a life! Not one I want to lead anyway. It’s certainly not the life I want you to have to endure.’ There was anger in his voice. It was the first real passion she’d heard from him for months.

‘It’s enough for me,’ she lied, willing him to stop.

He didn’t; there was a zeal about him that, but for the topic of conversation, would have been reassuring – a sign there was still some fire in his belly. ‘It shouldn’t have to be. I honestly believe it’s worse for you than for me. I have something to fight, something to blame; you…’ he swallowed and regrouped, ‘you have to sit, and watch, and be patient and kind and considerate, all the time, like some sodding handmaid.’

She felt the tears in her nose and attempted to control her distress, lowering her head trying to block him out, but he was relentless.

‘Meg, please, look at me. I need us to honest with each other. What is the point of you being shackled to me, like this, until the bitter end?’ The look on his face was frightening her. ‘I should never have gone anywhere near you. Never.’

‘Jonathan, please,’ she pleaded.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, but that didn’t stop him talking. He seemed to be gripped by an awful compulsion to keep going. ‘I don’t mean I regret falling in love with you. I’ve never regretted that. Or I have, but only because that’s what landed us – you – in this nightmare. But the truth is… if I hadn’t acted on my feelings, we would never have got together. You could have been happily married now, or at least living with someone fit and well. Maybe you’d have had a child.’ Megan couldn’t believe he was being so cruel. ‘There’s no getting away from the fact that, without me, you would have had a normal life, and you could have been happy.’

She wanted to argue with him, tell him she was happy, that she had no regrets, but she couldn’t. It was too obvious a lie. He was right. She had no life. She worked at a job she was hanging on to by her fingertips. She looked after him. That was it. She had virtually no emotional support. Her family was too far away to help, and Jonathan’s family was no use. Her friends were well-meaning, but had their own responsibilities, freedoms and social lives – ways of living that were now totally impossible for her and Jonathan. She was living a life that consisted of nothing but worry and responsibility, and an endless charade of cheerfulness.

And he was right. She was childless, and would forever remain so. So yes, she was unhappy – who in their right mind wouldn’t be? Jonathan’s voice brought Megan back to the present. He stared at her. Calm. Focused. Resolute. ‘I want you to leave.’

‘What?’

‘I want you to go.’

‘Jonathan!’ She brought her hands up to her face, a defence against his implacable insistence.

But he ploughed on. ‘Please, Megan. If you love me, and if you have any respect left for me, I need you to listen to what I have to say, and I want you to promise that you’ll think about it. I’ve thought about it – a lot.’ He coughed and gathered himself for the coup de grâce. ‘I don’t want you to watch me die. It will only make it worse for me – harder for me. If you leave I can be selfish, get there in my own time, concentrate on it, do it as well, or as badly, as I’m able to, without the pressure of performing for you. We – I – can hire people to help out. ProfessionaIs. There seem to be plenty of them out there.’ He gestured at the pile of CVs. ‘I don’t want it to fall on Chloe; that would be unfair, she shouldn’t be the one

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