A Right to be Wrong

Is it always so hard? To trust? To love and be loved in return? Is it ever possible to completely let go?

"Sometimes, you've just got to try a little tenderness." Her words played in his mind repetitively. "It'll take you somewhere you'll always want to be."

She wasn't lying. That night was tender, illicit and pure, and absolutely everything he could possibly have hoped it could be. He gazed at her across the ward, as she told Mr Curtis off for his latest mistake, and he wondered where he stood with her. She'd been so warm, even kissed him goodbye when they'd parted at the end of the conference, and looked back at him over her shoulder as she'd walked towards her car. He didn't know the correct etiquette with Connie though; for one she was married, and for another, she was…well, she was Connie.

What he didn't know is that she'd noticed him watching, and was herself wondering what to say to him either… Connie was torn. She watched Ric looking at her over Will's shoulder, as Will began reeling off a list of excuses and opinions which Connie was quite frankly, not interested in. Connie was a married woman, but she did as she pleased, and her husband knew that, and she knew that he did the same. Her marriage to Michael was lustful and fiery, and stood them both in good stead professionally. However, she could not deny that she had felt something that night, something that amounted to more than the earth moving. There was something about being in his arms, she'd found, that had made her feel safer than Michael ever had. For all her reputation was worth, all Connie wanted was to be safe and warm, and loved.

Ric watched as Connie said something to Will, which caused him to walk off, shoving past Ric to get out of the door. Ric turned and watched him storm down the corridor, before turning his attentions back to the ward, and catching Connie's eye in the process. She gazed at him for a moment, holding his stare until uncomfortably, he looked away and disappeared out of the same door that Will had done, moments before.

Connie watched him go, wondering if it was even worth the fight. She could stand to loose her husband, but not her pride. She'd never beg for a man, never compromise her pride. No. He'd have to come to her.

She walked towards her office, the sound of her heels reverberating around the now silent corridor. She knew he was inside before she even reached the door.

"Ric." She said, stopping and leaning on the doorframe with her arms folded, much in the same way as she had done at the hotel, a few days before. This time however, Ric did not glare at her as she smiled at him, but smiled back, hesitantly, wondering what it all meant. "Were you waiting for me?"

Ric looked at her, thinking what a silly question that was to ask…he wouldn't be waiting for anyone else in there now, would he? "Yes…Yes I was…how are you?"
Connie could clearly see that Ric was uncomfortable. She didn't want him to be, she wanted him to be relaxed around her. She wondered, not for the first time that day, if it was ever possible to completely let go. "I'm fine thank you." She replied, politely. "And how are you?"

"Yes, very well…" He tried to think of a way to broach the subject of their previous rendezvous, but failed to find the words. She'd said she reciprocated what he hadn't been able to say, but what if she'd thought he'd meant something different to what he actually had? Maybe she'd just wanted sex. It wouldn't, after all, have been unlike Connie to want that.

But it had been different, the other night. It had been more special somehow; he'd come away feeling so much more…fulfilled than he ever had done before. He didn't want it to have been a one-night stand, but deep down he knew that that was all that it could be. He knew that Connie's attentions could be nothing more than lustful. He looked at her, and her stance was defensive, but her gaze was soft, and showed a little bit of the tenderness she had spoken so warmly of a few days before. He wondered, not for the first time what she really wanted from him, really, not what she would tell him she wanted, but what she actually did.

Connie gazed back at Ric, assuming that he was going to finish his sentence at some point. She wondered what he was thinking, and why he felt the need to stare at her like that while he did it. It was making her feel slightly uncomfortable, now she came to think of it. She continued to lean against the doorframe, and didn't drop his gaze, afraid that doing so would make her vulnerable, but really all she wanted to do was walk over to him and touch him…not so much touch as hold. She didn't understand why she was feeling this way, but she did not want it to stop.

"About…before." Ric's words interrupted Connie's thoughts. "Where do we stand on that…what comes next…if there is a next?" He said, confusing himself slightly with his own words. His voice was gentle and tender, and he looked at her with open eyes. He stirred something within her, something that made her want to tell him that she wanted to be his everything, but she couldn't. She couldn't allow herself to be put in a position that could make her vulnerable such as that. She could not allow herself to be stung.

"There's not a next Ric…" She said softly, trailing off towards the end of the line, feeling pangs within the pit of her stomach as she took in the look on his face; he looked like she'd punched him in the stomach. She watched him nod slowly, before walking out of the room, stopping at the door to look at her for a moment.

"I have paperwork to do…it's a self preservation thing, you see." He closed the door behind him.

Connie slowly walked over to her sofa and sank down into it. "Oh Connie." She said, to herself. "What have you gone and done this time?"

Ric closed the door of his office with a slam, not in the mood to be speaking to anyone at that moment. He ran his fingers through his hair, before leaning against the door with his hands behind his head, gazing out of the window, failing to understand why she'd said what she had done, why he'd put himself in the position for her to say it in the first place. He'd fallen for all the wrong women over the years, but this…this was the icing on the cake. "Jesus Ric…" He said, to himself. "You've really gone and done it this time."

Connie had been sitting there for some time when he pager went off. She'd been thinking about Ric, feeling guilty for hurting him and bemused that she, of all people was feeling guilty for hurting a man's feelings. She just couldn't get the image of his face when she'd brushed him off from her head, she couldn't get away from the way he'd looked at her, the way those deep brown eyes had been so wounded. She wondered why she'd always been so scared of being vulnerable that she'd never really allowed herself to be loved, and she wondered if that was why she felt so lonely all the time. Even with Michael, she felt lonely, but on that night with Ric, she hadn't. She'd really felt wanted there, in his arms. Which made her wonder if Michael had really ever wanted her at all.

She passed his office on the way to theatre…He saw her, and she saw him, but they both pretended that they hadn't. As she walked through the swing doors and saw Will Curtis standing at the operating table, looking at her in an arrogant manner, she bristled. "What's the problem?" She asked, perhaps a little more snappily than she should have done.

"It's Ray Croft." Will shrugged. "He's your patient. You know him. I thought you'd want to be here." Connie blinked for a moment at this news. Ray had been a friend of Connie's parents, a lovely man, absolutely doted on his wife, Barbara. The pair of them loved each other deeply, the kind of love that you knew would last forever, the kind Connie wanted to experience herself, but had never quite made it. Connie felt slightly unsettled at the thought of what was happening to him.

"What happened?" Connie asked, her voice a little shaky as she went to get scrubbed up, listening avidly as Will filled her in on the details. She walked over to the table and began his procedure, meticulously as usual, but today, not speaking to Will unless it was necessary. When Ray arrested, Connie's heart jumped into her throat. She went through the usual routine, getting more and more frantic as time carried on passing, not stopping, even when Will gently suggested it to her for the first, second, third time. It was only when Will forcibly removed the paddles from her hands that Connie realised she had to call it. She did, and walked across the theatre, covering her eyes with her hand, before running it up over her forehead and into her hair, staring at the floor and trying desperately not to cry in front of her colleagues. When Will walked over to her, placing a hand tenderly on her shoulder, she shrugged him off and walked out of the theatre, tossing her gown on the floor as she did.

When she got outside, she leaned against the wall, her eyes closed. As she felt a hand on her arm, she opened her eyes in an aggravated manner, expecting Will to be standing before her, but discovering it in fact to be Barbara's concerned eyes looking into hers.

"Ray…is he okay?" The hope in Barbara's familiar shaky old voice make Connie feel sick to the stomach, she was ravaged with guilt that she hadn't been able to do anything for a man who had been a big part of her life since before she could remember. Connie shook her head slightly.

"I'm so sorry Barbara." She said quietly. Connie stood there, frozen as Barbara's eyes filled up almost instantly with tears. Her voice was almost silent as she finished what she was saying. "There was nothing I could do."

Connie touched Barbara's arm gently, feeling uncomfortably numb as she lead Barbara over to the seats and sat with her for a suitable amount of time, before asking Will to escort her to the mortuary so that she could say her goodbyes. Connie headed straight for her office and closed the door behind her, making sure that all the blinds were closed tightly before she allowed herself to cry.

It was almost an hour later when Lisa informed Ric that Connie had disappeared into her office a while ago and had not yet emerged, despite being late for her ward rounds. Word had gotten around the staff that Connie had lost a close friend earlier that day, and everyone was too scared of her wrath to go and get her. Ric went and knocked gently on her office door, realising that he was the nominated individual to do so. Lisa watched him from a distance as Ric turned the handle and opened the door, despite not hearing any reply to his knocking from Connie telling him to do so. He stuck his head round the door, and saw her, sat on the sofa, her knees drawn up to her chest staring out of the window. She didn't turn round to face him as he opened the door, and he did not speak. He simply entered her office, gently closing the door behind him, and walked over to the sofa, surprised to see the tearstains on her cheeks. She looked at him as he sat down, opening her mouth to speak but not finding the words to say. Sensing her helplessness, Ric reached for her and pulled her gently into his arms. She sank into them, gratefully, pressing her head into his chest. She could not begin to explain how absolutely inadequate she felt at that moment, how accountable she felt for Ray dying, how culpable she felt for Barbara's sorrow. She'd sat for a long time, thinking about how close Ray and Barbara had been, how that was all gone now. And she'd realised something, something about herself, something that she needed to do.

"Ric." She spoke softly, her voice broken by the feelings caught in her throat. " There's something I need to say."

"You don't have to do this now Connie." Ric said gently, stroking her back ever so slightly as he did.

"Yes…yes I do." She sat up, and looked at Ric. "What I said earlier…I…I…." Even now, Connie was finding it hard to admit that she was wrong. Her voice was almost inaudible when she said it, but Ric heard her clearly enough, and knew not to ask her to repeat it. "I was wrong."

"You've got a right to be wrong Connie, everybody does." Ric spoke gently. "And if you can admit that, then you're the better person for it." He moved one hand gently to her cheek, softly wiping her tears away with his thumb. She looked at him sadly, wondering whether it would be too much to share her feelings of inadequacy with him. Ric could sense she needed to unload how she was feeling on someone, and gave her a soft prompt. "You know, you're not superwoman Connie…you can't save everyone."

"But I should have been able to save Ray…he was like an uncle to me." Connie looked back down at her lap as her eyes began to well up again. "I just wish I'd been able to say goodbye."

Ric looked at her compassionately as she said this, realising just how upset Connie was by the death of Ray. It shocked him slightly, the realisation that she was just as human as he was, that she had feelings too, could be moved by things just as he could. Gently he hugged her again, pulling her towards him as she began to cry. He held her tightly, stroked her soft curly hair and let her cry into his chest, until she'd had the chance to let it all out.

It was dark outside when Connie sat up again, and wiped her eyes before looking at Ric, felling embarrassed at her breakdown, embarrassed that he had seen her at her most vulnerable, embarrassed that he now knew that she wasn't the untouchable that she strived to be. "I'm sorry," she said, trying to compose herself. "You didn't need to see that."

"I wanted to be here." He replied, softly.

The close proximity of their bodies meant that Connie was close enough to Ric to lean her head forwards slightly and rest her forehead against his. She closed her eyes, in an attempt to protect herself from the implications of what she was about to say. Her voice was still sad and broken, but a soft smile played on the corners of her lips as she spoke.

"I always want you to be here."