Me-Before-You-by-Jojo-Moyes

‘It matters to me that Will wants to live, that he sees good things in his future.’
‘And those good things would include you?’
‘That’s not fair. Look, have I ever asked you to stop doing the job you love?’
‘My job doesn’t involve hot tubs with strange men.’
‘Well, I don’t mind if it does. You can have hot tubs with strange men! As
often as you like! There!’ I tried to smile, hoping he would too.
But he wasn’t having any of it. ‘How would you feel, Lou? How would you
feel if I said I was going on some keep-fit convention with – I don’t know –
Leanne from the Terrors because she needed cheering up?’
‘Cheering up?’ I thought of Leanne, with her flicky blonde hair and her
perfect legs, and I wondered absently why he had thought of her name first.
‘And then how would you feel if I said she and I were going to eat out
together all the time, and maybe sit in a hot tub or go on days out together. In
some destination six thousand miles away, just because she had been a bit down.
That really wouldn’t bother you?’
‘He’s not “a bit down”, Pat. He wants to kill himself. He wants to take himself
off to Dignitas, and end his own bloody life.’ I could hear my blood thumping in
my ears. ‘And you can’t turn it around like this. You were the one who called
Will a cripple. You were the one who made out he couldn’t possibly be a threat
to you. “The perfect boss,” you said. Someone not even worth worrying about.’
He put the folder back down on the worktop.
‘Well, Lou … I’m worrying now.’
I sank my face into my hands and let it rest there for a minute. Out in the
corridor I heard a fire door swing, and the voices of people swallowed up as a
door was unlocked and closed behind them.
Patrick slid his hand slowly backwards and forwards along the edge of the
kitchen cabinets. A little muscle worked in his jaw. ‘You know how this feels,
Lou? It feels like I might be running, but I feel like I’m permanently just a little
bit behind the rest of the field. I feel like … ’ He took a deep breath, as if he
were trying to compose himself. ‘I feel like there’s something bad on the bend
around the corner, and everyone else seems to know what it is except me.’
He lifted his eyes to mine. ‘I don’t think I’m being unreasonable. But I don’t
want you to go. I don’t care if you don’t want to do the Viking, but I don’t want
you to go on this … this holiday. With him.’