Late Night Regrets
Part One: Abby
She made her way through the empty apartment, the light from the street lamps providing the only source to guide her. Her bare feet hit the wooden floor, a satisfying smack. It was cold are hard against her warm feet, yet the rest of her body shivered against the cold of the night. The full moon cast shadows upon her walls, eerie shapes she'd rather not recognize. Her eyes were burning from the lack of sleep, but after hours of twisting and turning, she had given up. She hit the side of a table on her way to the sofa, the pain drifting up and down her spine until it paused and settled on her hip. She swore under her breath, afraid to disrupt the silence of the night. The ticking clock provided a steady hypnotic rhythm, and the occasional car sound made its way through the sealed windows.
She dragged the suddenly heavy sweater from its position on the top of her sofa and slipped it over her shoulders. She then climbed onto the sofa, digging her toes into the soft material, and throwing the comforter she held around her shoulders around her legs instead. Even through she was plastered in things that would usually warm her, tonight she felt unnaturally cold, almost as if she was empty from the inside out. She curled up onto her side, starring out through the window. She was high enough to see a section of the sky, before another building took over her view. The skies were overcast, the moon she had seen shining now hid behind a patch of grey-blue clouds. She brushed the strands of hair out of her face, curling back into the ball on the sofa, trying to radiate some warmth.
She never pictured herself in this position, in this situation. She never had thought about going back to medical school after she was dropped. It never really occurred to her. She was always living someone else's dreams, never her own. She continuously tried to live up to these goals she never remembered setting, and when she fell, it was twice as hard to get back up again. After she had broken away from the holds Maggie held on her, she felt invincible. She was young and immature, seeking something that would make her feel alive for the first time. Slowly she found it, in the arms of Richard.
He wasn't a horrible person, far from it. She wouldn't have fallen for him if he had been. He was smart and funny, charmed her right through many dates. He made her feel loved and special, the only time in all her years she had. They were good together, at the beginning. They had different classes, crazy schedules. She was working three jobs to get through college, and he was pulling week nights to pay off his own loans. They rarely got to see each other, but when they did, they were inseparable. She would lie, safely in his arms until the sun came up. She believed he was the best thing that ever happened to her. She was envied by her close friends, and she saw him in her future, for a very long time.
Months slowly turned into a year, and they had toughed it out. Both gained acceptance into medical school. Richard was going to Loyola, while she progressed slowly at UIC. It was the night they had planned to celebrate their acceptance, that he proposed. She hadn't expected it at all, he simply dropped on one knee right in front of her apartment, the words rambling out of his mouth and hands shaking. She said yes even before he had a chance to finish. They were wed only three months later at a small ceremony with only his family and a few of her close friends and her brother.
It was at about this time everything began to blurr for her, she still couldn't sort it out, almost ten years later. She was barely at home, between work and studies, she came home late and night, and went to bed. He had a strenuous schedule also, but he worked nights, took classes in the afternoon, and slept in the mornings. They had a backward schedule, and she never got to see him, unless it was a quick greeting on the way out the door. Everything seemed to be going so well, until reality took over. The bills had to be paid, tuition turned in, food, clothes, utilities. They didn't have the money, and they had no where to turn for it.
She ditched the medical school idea, instead turned to a couple week course and got her nursing degree. She sacrificed her dream for him, since he had given her all her dreams. She worked the shifts, paid the bills as he flew through medical school. She planned to return, just as soon as the financial situation eased between them. Then everything began to officially fall apart. She worked almost all the time, coming home at ungodly hours only to eat and sleep. She had forced him to drop his job, she wanted him to have the rest he needed for his classes.
She was barely there, spending her time off only sleeping or cleaning. She didn't know what he did when she was gone. He never told her, yet he would always greet her the same. A smile and a kiss, and he would hold her for a while. They would make love, and suddenly the thoughts of him being anything but perfect disappeared from her mind. After a while, she stopped pretending and started living. She spent nights wondering where he was. Sometimes she would get off early, and go home to an empty house, untouched by him. She found receipts in his pockets for things she had never seen. The credit card bills would come for things they never needed, or never even used. She wanted to believe it was all her mind playing tricks on her, but her heart led her to believe it was something else.
She didn't play detective, she hadn't the need or the time. She pieced everything together, and slowly but surely, the news hit her. He was cheating on her, whether she cared to acknowledge it or not. She had no physical evidence, but it was the burning feeling in the pit of her stomach. She flipped through his wallet, the number of a woman scrawled on a piece of paper, that had obviously been opened, closed, and creased time and time again. She confronted him that evening. He originally denied the claims, but as their voices grew louder, he grew move violent. This wasn't the man she married.
That was the night he slapped her, sent her crashing to the ground. Even through it all, she still loved him. He admitted it later that night, when he came home drunk. Called her a worthless waste of time. He grabbed a bag of clothes, and left. She cried through the night, cried more than she ever had. Her husband was cheating on her, the one person she believed would never hurt her intentionally. The one person she loved and cared for. She would always love him, although the feeling would never be the same.
It was that night that she found out she was pregnant. It had come as a shock to her, she had been on the pill. They had been careful. The cramps and the lightheadedness began to worry her. She thought she was just under-eating, but when the morning sickness kicked in, she knew she had better check. She was right. The decision came quickly and almost naturally. She couldn't keep the baby, too many reasons loomed in her mind. She had grown up without a father, she didn't wish that upon her child. She didn't want her baby to end up like her mother, bipolar and unstable. If she was going to bring in a child, she wanted everything to be perfect. She didn't have the money, the force, the sanity to go through it all.
The next morning she found herself calling the abortion clinic and scheduling an appointment. Even though they say the patients is supposed to have someone spend the night with them in case of complications, she didn't. She spent the night alone on the hardwood floor in her bedroom, rocking the pain away. He never knew. He would never know, she vowed that night never to tell him. After weeks of arguments and avoiding each other, the papers were thrown on the table. The divorce papers were drawn up, she got the apartment and compensation for tuition for medical school. He got everything else, including a new life.
That night that she finally opened the bottle of merlot she had been saving for their second wedding anniversary. They never made it that far. She couldn't stop pouring the dark blood red liquid into the glass, sipping it. The sweetness made her want it more, and the burning sensation eased her pain. After about half the bottle, she was gone, laughing at one minute, crying her eyes out the next. She was drunk, a cheap drunk at that. She woke up the next morning with a hangover, but her throbbing head made the mental pain go away. She finished the bottle off that night, establishing the same effect.
Slowly, this became her routine. She would come home from work, and head instantly for any form of alcohol in the house. She did it unknowingly. The beer in the back of the fridge instead of a glass of water. The wine coolers that had been there for months. Soon, her tolerance grew, and she moved on. It started with one shot of vodka, she could get the same effect as a bottle of wine. With time, she needed more and more, but it didn't control her. She controlled it, that's what she told herself. She went back to medical school, Richard complying with his end of the deal. She drank only when she wasn't studying, although she would regularly accompany a bottle of wine or a screwdriver with her anatomy books.
Some nights she was okay, could deal with a simple beer. Other nights she needed the whole bottle of tequila to achieve her favorite effect. Slowly as her second year dwindled down, she met him in a bar. She had been walking home from work. She had lost a baby that afternoon, in OB. The neon lights called to her, the smell of cheap cigars and crappy cigarettes pulled her inside. Their divorce was in its final stages. She sat down at the opposite end of the room, and watched him out of the corner of her eye as drank herself into oblivion. The rest of the night became a blur, except for the words he screamed at her. She was a drunk, an alcoholic. She didn't even know when the change had happened.
She denied it for so long, until she saw the damage it can do through one of her patients. It was seven years later, almost eight since she had openly admitted to herself she was an alcoholic. She did it in front of her mirror in the morning after finishing all the alcohol in her home. She could barely stand up straight, everything twisted around her. Her eyes were bloodshot, with dark black circles under them. Her hair was a mess, she was a little jaundice. The yellow tint of her skin made her look surreal. She refused to look in a mirror for weeks after that. She hated who she was, life held little meaning anymore.
It was those nights, she battled the alcoholism, the depression, her mother, her worries, her failed marriage, that she wanted to end it all. She knew she wasn't bipolar like her mother, she would know what she was doing, she probably had good reasons to. Yet somehow, one thing kept her going. All her lonely nights ended up in tears, thinking about the life she snatched away. The life that had once lived inside her. She knew what happened in clear detail, the years working in OB serving her well. Yet the patient aspect was completely different.
She was exposed in a thin hospital gown, the room freezing. Her legs were up in stirrups, the most uncomfortable position ever. Everything was ice against her body, she wanted to cry, but she didn't. Not there. Her body kept on shaking, all up to the time when the anaesthesiologist sent her into a deep sleep. She remembered starring at the calendar to her right, a picture of strawberry shortcake over the calendar boxes. After she woke up, there was a glass of milk and some cookies, as if she had just had her appendix removed or some minor surgery. The after-care nurse came in, a smile on her face, gently helping her get up and get dressed. Her stomach hurt, and the cramps to expel the rest of the debris from her uterus almost twisted her in two. She took the L home that night, she couldn't drive.
Those lonely nights she thought about it, it was her second addiction. She heard the stories about the post-abortion depression, but she thought she would be stronger than that. She wasn't. She was haunted in her dreams, then dealt with guilt during the day, holding new born lives at work. She would sit there in the dark and imagined everything about it. Would it have been a boy or a girl? If it had been a boy, she would have named it Jacob. If it had been a girl, she would have been Sarah. She wondered what hair color her baby would have. Would he or she have brown her like her? Or would her baby be a dirty blonde like Richard? Would he or she have brown eyes or green ones, like the father? Would she be more of an artist? Or would he be more of a scientist? All the questions she would never have answers to.
Was that her biggest regret? That she never had that baby? What kind of life would it been? She was ten years older now, ten years smarter. Would she have started drinking if she was pregnant? Or if she was a mother? Would she have had the time to go back to medical school? So many situations fled through her mind. Richard could have tried for custody. Even if he didn't, her baby deserved a father. She would have to see him. How would she explain to her son or daughter that their father loved them, but he didn't love her? What if her toddler asked if she loved her or his daddy? What would she say? Would she be able to lie? She still loved him. Ten years later, he was still a part of her, no doubt. Would they have stayed together? That was the biggest question.
Richard had told her right before his second marriage he always wanted children. Would they have been a family? They could have worked through their problems had they tried. She wouldn't trust him completely, but if he was good to her that didn't matter. She would have been willing to try again. The baby could have changed her life, for the better or worse, she wasn't sure. She could have had her marriage back. Or she could be a single mother with a father who didn't care. She could not have a child at all, if Richard decided to file for full custody. If she had a child, would she be able to find someone else if Richard didn't come back. Would she have dated Luka? Would she have become as close to Carter as she had been? Would she have dated him? Her life would have been thrown upside down.
What happened in the past, needed to stay in the past. Yet she didn't regret her relationship with Richard. If she was given the chance, and knew the outcome, she would have done it again. But she wouldn't have ended her pregnancy. Everything seemed horrible at the time, and it really was. Yet everything is possible when there is some hope. And the only hope she holds now is th chance to have a baby. Not now, but in the future. With someone she truly was happy with, someone she could honestly say she loved.
Her gaze shifted toward the bowl near her door. She didn't know why, but her body decided to do it. She wiped away the tears that had fallen down her cheeks, and soaked the pillow her head was lying on. She pulled her legs closer to her chest, and pulled the blanket closer over her head. There were enough regrets for the night. She needed to live her life with no regrets. She had made so many changes, opened so many doors. She just needed to learn to love again, to trust again.
She was finally able to say she was okay with who she was, she needed a little bit more work in some places, but she was becoming who she wanted. She was setting her own goals, and living her own dreams. She needed to say words that simply felt right, she needed to be weak once in a while and let herself be open. The regrets she held helped teach her lessons. She still had some time in front of her, maybe she would finally learn from her past. As the old saying goes, those that don't' learn history the first time around, are doomed to repeat it.
Her body let out last one last shiver, and the last streams of tears made their way down her skin. Her body finally relaxed and melted into the soft cushions. Her gaze shifted to the full moon, now against a clear sky. There were millions of people starring at the same moon at that same moment. The world seemed so huge, but everyone shared certain things in common. Everyone wanted to be happy, to be safe, to be loved. Suddenly she didn't feel so alone, her apartment didn't feel that gigantic. Was she the only one that dwelled on her regrets? No. She was sure of this. Everyone had regrets, held questions without answers. Everyone had late night regrets, things that haunted them. Her eyes slowly closed, and she began to fade off into a restful sleep under the moonlight.
Author's Notes: Okay since I have commitment issues and a short attention span... I'm trying something as an experiment. This is the first section of a multi-chapter fic. I'm going to do a chapter from each character's POV. I started with Abby, since I had her planned out. I think I'm going to do Susan next. The whole point of this collection of standalones, is to highlight the biggest regret for each character... Everyone will have a different sitaution, a different history, but they are all sorta thinking about it at the same time... You'll get that later... I just thought that this would be a good idea, since it doenst' require me dragging out a story for a billion chapters, and I get to work with other characters, which I dont' really do alot. And of course, if you have a different opinion, leave me a message telling me what you think it might be... I spent some time thinking, so I sort worked things out, but I might have missed something. And thsi is actually the first fic were I'm not including any Carby moments. Wow. I know. So I hope you guys like it, and give me alot of input, good or bad. And I need some help, I was talking to Alexa yesterday, but I still dont' know. What do you think Carter's greatest reget is? So that's it. Enough for the huge author's note... Read and enjoy... Then review... Puh lease??? Thanks!