I thought I loved Richard. I was sure I did. It's not like it was a complete wreck from the start. We never had this passion or this spontaneity like Carter and I, but that's not especially required in a relationship. Only in Hollywood big-screen marriages and relationships. So I married Richard. Because we were in love.
That's one of the things you do when you're in love. You get married. And live happily ever after, growing old together with grandchildren on your knee, etc., etc., etc. But, obviously it didn't work out that way for Richard. The real drama of modern marriage became an ultimate obstacle. You don't want to stay in something like that. I didn't want to, that's for sure. I had enough courage and strength to tell myself for once that I wouldn't be happy like this.
And I already wasn't. So I got a divorce. We got a divorce. I don't enjoy having 'divorcee' stamped on my life record, but that's the way it went. Must say that I'm much more happier to be apart from the man than with him. It didn't fit right, Richard and Abby Lockhart. We weren't 'meant to be.'
You know, up until now, I almost *hated* that saying. I believed that there was someone for everyone, but there were always those little people who weren't allowed that luxury. The people who didn't get their one special person.
And, you guessed it; I believed I'd fallen into that category.
But now I'm not so sure. I don't know what I'm thinking exactly, really. I'd been with him for six days. Six whole, wonderful, worth-it days. Indescribably amazing, life-altering, over the stars, fairytale romance days.
And, yeah, its still me speaking here.
I have *never,* *ever* felt anything like this before. I've already mentioned it, but I've been repeating myself for the last week anyway. The last thirty years of my life, at all.
"Could you check vitals in 4?"
I nod Chuny's way. My feet move swiftly. It's the way it's done in the ER. My job as a nurse. I love the fact that people think we're a doctor's sidekick, the Robin to Batman. It gives me motivation everyday to almost prove them wrong. Or to show them, rather, that we do our own thing.
I think everyone at work has noticed a difference in me. I'm still setting a confused mood now, but I smile. Especially when I'm with Carter. I've said that we haven't fooled around or anything in the lounge, or at work at all. And that was the truth. I don't plan to unless I'm solely dedicated to him, morally and technically. Completely. Not just because it would be wrong to Luka, but because it would be wrong to Carter. Although he's been in on this dirty scam with me in a way, he still doesn't deserve to be hurt. Especially when I chose to be with him over another. And if I couldn't dedicated my thoughts completely to Carter, as they are focused on more now, than it would be wrong.
Good God, my head is clouded with a lot. It's a wonder I still perform this job everyday. But, I do. And I do it well, in my opinion.
Vitals are checked. Job done in exam four. Now I need a break.
"Trauma, Abby. We're headed to 2."
"Okay," I call, sighing. No break.
I make my way over to another room now, my eyes meeting the board for a second. The name 'Carter' flashes in front of me, and I don't care to waste time. I make my run to the noted Curtain Area 3, and see just a little boy sitting there, his mother holding his hand. The hand is wrapped in a bandage.
I sigh in relief. I'm either paranoid, or hopelessly in love. What a dork.
"Are you the nurse?" the woman asks hopefully.
"Um," I stammer. "Actually, I wanted to tell you that a trauma just came in, and we're short on staff, so it might be a little longer before someone comes to see you." I smile at the child on the cot, who smiles back while his mother grunts.
"I'm sorry," I say. "I'll try to get someone over here as soon as possible."
She nods, disappointed and pats her son's hand.
I walk away from them, making my way to the trauma room. I can already spot Kerry glaring at me, so I slip on gloves and Malik helps me with the gown. I thank him and slip into the room. Slip? There's never slipping into a trauma. You *burst* into a trauma.
And what a world it is.
Alarms calling in every corner, shouts from either side of the body, and a pair of hands on every section of the patient. Commands thrown, equipment passed, and wires and tubes here, there. I don't waste time to smile at the scene; I'm used to it. I only nod at Kerry and Lewis, who are already working on the boy.
For some reason I don't want to be here. Maybe its because I want to have coffee with Carter. He has the day off. I didn't try to get it off as well, for two reasons. One, he's sick. If I played the good little girlfriend, I'd go home and make him soup, fluff his pillows. But it seems to sickening. Well, in an affair-affiliated way. And two, people suspect things easily. County General's ER is most definitely not an exception to this rule.
It never would be. I think I am the only nurse around here who doesn't ride the gossip train.
I do like to know things though. Believe me. It's a nurse thing, I guess. Yosh and Malik do it too, so it's not a girl thing particularly.
Maybe I can't see John today. At least not until tonight. So, I'll call him. Kerry dismisses us as the patient becomes stable, so I push off my gloves, tear off the gown, and walk away in satisfaction.
I walk right out of the trauma room, but to the empty one next door. Before I shut the door, I tell Susan about the little boy in Curtain 3, and she says she'll see him when she can. I grin and shut the door behind me. I quickly reach for the phone, a smile already fast approaching. I'm awful.
I dial the number and pray to God that he answers and that no one hears this conversation. Or even my end of it.
It's ringing.
It's still ringing.
Still ringing.
Please pick up, I pray. I close my eyes and wish, hard, that he just pick up the phone. So I can hear his voice and know he'll talk to me for an instant before I go back to work -
"Hello?" a sleepy voice greets me.
My smile overtakes my entire face and my heart skips a beat. I'm crazy. "Hi, its me, Abby."
There's a chuckle. "Hey, what are you doing?"
I giggle back. "I'm just out of a trauma. I miss you."
"Miss you, too."
"How's your headache?"
"Ah," he sighs heavily, "about the same. My throat's starting to get bad, too."
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "Do you want me to bring you anything? I'm going to try and take my break soon."
"Sure," he says kindly. "Could you get me something to eat? I'm starving."
I smile. I realize that he can't see me, but I do it anyway. "Sure, what do you want?"
"Surprise me."
"Okay," I giggle again. Giggling's not so bad, I guess. Not too girly if I do it right. "That all?"
"Stay for a while."
My cheeks are flushing crimson, I know it. "I will," I say quietly.
We say our gentle good-byes and he blows me a kiss over the phone leisurely. I wish he was in front of me, so I could collapse into his arms and fall asleep. I'm tired. I miss him, I do.
I recognize that the perfect way to end that conversation would have been to say, "I love you."
But I don't think he feels that way. I don't blame him. We've only been with each other for six days. It's literally impossible for someone to fall in love that fast. Except a foolish thirty-some nurse in a different dead-end relationship with a guy, tied into a romantic affair...
Don't think about, I tell myself. Don't even start. Go see Carter. The guy you love. I'll reward myself for no reason.
I suffocate a poor smile from my face, making my way from the room. It is too quiet in here. It only adds to the guilt factor. Judging by how far I've cared to carry on with someone else, that guilt factor isn't heavy enough.
Thinking that it will all come to a stop tomorrow is more comforting. The end of it will finally be here. I won't have to feel like I'm sneaking around all the time, which I am, and I can be with Carter wherever, whenever, however I want to.
This idea brings a smile too difficult to hide. I have to refrain from biting my lip in complete and udder girlish fashion. I put a hand over my face, I actually do, to conceal it from anyone who might notice it. I could laugh at the fact that I'm thinking that 'Carter' is written, laced about my lips.
I'm already in the lounge. While I'm slipping on my coat and scarf, a figure appears behind me.
"Hey," says a quick voice.
I turn around and smile. "Hey I was just taking my break. Haleh said you weren't feeling too well."
"Hookie," Lydia laughs. "You don't sound too well, though."
It has barely occurred to me that I *am* sick. My head hurts, and my throat is tender, but I had assumed it was because I was just a little upset. I rub my throat without thinking and blink as I turn back around to close my locker. Should I still be using this? "Yeah, I guess." I whir around, waving my hand and laughing slightly. "Hookie?"
She smiles and puts a finger to her lips. "Weaver could be anywhere."
I chuckle again and pull on my hat, over my ears. "I'll see you later."
She waves to me lazily as she sheds her jacket, and I leave the room. It isn't as cold as I though it would be, but for sake of story, I wrap my arms around myself generously. Looking up toward the sky, I don't want to smile.
It suddenly hits me. No, I mean *really* hits me. I'm having an affair. This isn't like me at all. I never wanted Carter and I to be together like this. My arms drop to my sides, and I come to a stop in the middle of the dirty pavement, frowning at the slush surrounding my feet. The slush filled with dirt, filth, muck, more...
My body freezes. Why am I doing this? Guilt is the most disgusting feeling in the world, and its exactly what I'm feeling now. Guilt. More guilt. I want to sit right here and fall. Fall down and let God choose who will pick me up.
Because I'm not worthy to choose at all.
My face quivers slightly and I know that everyone person passing me is frowning upon my poor example. Why haven't I been? I should be beating myself up over this. I'm not supposed to be with this man. Not yet.
I skip his meal. No, it isn't his problem to deal with. He's hungry. I step into a restaurant, purchase a single hamburger and fries meal, and walk right back out. With the bag in one hand and his soda in the other, I try not to burrow away into the ground. I need to disappear, that's what I need.
I seriously feel like I could hurt myself. Not in a terrible way, but I deserve it so richly by now.
Six days of pure diabolic activity. Am I a victim, or a culprit?
I shake my head. I stand in front of the door, contemplating whether or not to carry inside. At once, I know I will. I crave him, but I so don't want to. I do, but I don't. Why, oh why can't I understand myself?
I open the door, walk inside and set the food down on the table, my keys quietly joining them. I whisper through the apartment, careful not to disturb him.
"That you?"
I am not smiling. "Yeah, I brought you some food."
He steps from his bedroom in his comfortable pajamas, smiling. I think he notices me, but doesn't say anything. He looks at me for a while though, until my gaze shifts to the floor.
If I can't even look at him, how will I ever face Luka?
"Something wrong?"
I stand still. For a while I'm not sure if I'm going to do anything. I don't even know if I am capable of doing anything right now, whether it be talking, moving, anything. My feet seem held to one area on the floor, my hands firm at my sides, and my neck now aching as I continue to stare downward. I nod.
"What is it?"
Improvisation; here it goes. I hate my life right now. "Look at me."
So he does. Puzzled.
"I'm cheating."
He sighs and comes toward me, but I pull away. I can see he understands and he takes a seat at the table. He sulks slightly.
"I kissed you, I slept with you, I dated you," I say sadly. "I'm not supposed to go behind someone's back like this. No one is."
He's still looking at the ground. Whether I want him to stay that way or look at me again... I don't know...
"I know there's a day left until Luka comes back," I whisper, "but I can't be that kind of person. I've spent the last six days enjoying myself, and it was wrong."
I wonder how long silence will stand between us.
"I want to be with you, Carter," I whimper against the dark air. It's far too still in here. "So badly."
He nods, sorry to the ground.
"Even if I have to wait a day," I say. "And I still be upset if you don't want to - "
"I do," he says, finally looking up. I'm glad he did. Still no smile appears on my face, though. He stands up and takes a stand closer to me. "I still want to be with you."
Still no smile, but it's warmer on the inside. A lot warmer.
"I feel guilty about it, too," he says nicely. "I'm just as bad at this. As long as you tell Luka the truth - "
I'd forgotten about that. I had totally skipped over the entire idea. I put a hand over my eyes.
"You're not going to tell him?"
"I am," I announce firmly. Surprise.
He nods and comes toward me. He hugs me lightly, but it's still warm. I am reluctant to hug him back, so I don't. I feel like I should just place a hand on the back of his neck and pull him closer to me, but I can't. It's too wrong.
"I love you already," I murmur against his neck.
The words come out in a heavy, husky voice. I barely recognize it as my own. I'm still aware of my face gently pressed against his body, wondering where the rest of the universe is. Not that I care. I try to suppress the need to touch his face, and I succeed. Barely.
He immediately pulls me away and stares at me. I feel I should take it back. He doesn't feel the same at all.
But he nods. Again. I don't know what that means. What does that mean?
"I love you, too."
I freeze. My heart, my head, my body. They all go frozen for a minute as I try and decipher what he's just said. It shouldn't take too much time. It's only four words, right? It's more to me. So much more. They're completely reaching out to me and sending me a single message.
"You love me?" I say, hushed.
All I can do is breathe out so slowly as he begins to nod. Something I've wished for for so long without even knowing it has come true. There's only one thing I feel right now. Only one thing I can understand in the midst of millions of thoughts rushing through my mind right now.
I want to kiss him. He loves me. Its only appropriate to.
"I want to kiss you once more before I leave then," I say. I hope it doesn't sound the way I was afraid of. Sounding to against my belief or word, for starters, that I sang a minute ago.
"You sure you - "
I nod feverishly with my eyes sealed, and he doesn't waste time to take me and kiss me tightly. Every charge runs again, but its too short by my standards. But I know why he did it. So I nod and turn away. He tells me he loves me again, and I keep walking out the door.
"Wait," he says calmly, grabbing my wrist.
I look at him. I want him to talk so much.
"Don't forget," he whispers with eyes fixed to mine, "to come back."
