This wasn't making love. This wasn't taking hours and enjoy every inch of her skin. This wasn't taking her to the edge over and over, her moaning out his name. There won't be falling asleep in each others arms their sweat swimming together. This was about feeling in control. This was about feeling alive if only for a few moments.
She rests her head on his shoulder, holding in moans of pleasure as he continued to thrust. He too trying to keep focused. Because this was fucking and not making love. They both reach climax nearly on top of each other, still they don't speak of what just happened. After a few moments he is able to stumble backwards from the desk where she remains her breathing not returned to normal yet.
Her eyes sting at the reality of what had occurred. Of what she had allowed. The worst part is when images of Jake popped up. She knew eventually there would be someone else, he'd want that for her. But like this? A nearly fully dressed quickie in her office where neither party had the courage to discuss what was happening?
"I should get back." He mutters fiddling with his belt.
"Yeah." She doesn't know if she should say more. Was there any words to say? There wasn't. He leaves closing the door behind her quietly and once alone she no longer has reasons to hold it in and starts to sob over the pain, the changes, the losses especially the loss of herself. She climbs off the top and onto the chair and continues to sob into the cradle of her arm. Until she feels herself falling asleep.
"Abby? Abby are you in there?" She jerks awake at the calling of her name and knocks on the door. She didn't want to see him. Not now. She had no idea when she'd have the courage to face him or to face anybody. The knocking increases tempo. He is starting to panic.
"Yes. What is it?" Without a mirror she can only hope she looked decent. With no signs of her sleep and fucking sessions. The door is pushed open and he stares at her. She can't read what he's thinking and his face is nearly blank in return.
"I was worried about you." He says softly.
"I'm fine Marcus." She stumbles across the words as he approaches the desk and her. He just stands there taking her in, she can hear his heart breaking.
"Abby this isn't healthy you…"
"I said I'm fine."
"No you're not. This…' He pauses his eyes falling on her obviously skewed top and to her dried sweat matted hair. 'isn't fine."
"I am dealing with it." The doctor in her is screaming. Marcus is right; this was behavior was the opposite of fine. She's avoiding. Hiding. And though pretended she was in control all it was a rouse. Silence engulfs them as his glaze doesn't move away. His eyes were not of judgement but of sympathy.
"You could have come to me."
"I couldn't. Not after…"
"That wasn't you. It wasn't me. None of that was us."
"You are the reasons for this! The reason I feel like my soul is being ripped out. At every moment I see what I did you. What I allowed to happen. The scars you'll bear with my name!"
"Abby, no."
"Marcus please leave me." His head drops as he takes a few steps backwards.
"When you are ready to face this. Ready to deal with it without Jackson's help let me know." His words were bitter. Jealousy? Still just pure hurt he wasn't the one she turned to?
"I'm fine." She releases the lie one last time. He turns back to her and reopens the door leaving her swimming in the reality that was around on her. Again the tears begin to fall.