He was spent. Emotionally and physically. Burn victims always take a toll on him, especially children. A pot of boiling spaghetti upended on a toddler who in a fit of excitement run into the nanny as she was about the drain the pasta. One second and lives have been changed for the worst. Forever. He had done his best for the child for now. He could still here those screams. All he wanted to do was get home and kiss Harriet and hold her close but she was with her mother for the next couple of days. The next best thing is a call but as it was quite late that would have to wait till morning.
He lets himself into the apartment and immediately walks over to the fridge for a beer. He sees a post it "Dinner in the microwave. Your favourite pasta."
He scrunches his nose, deciding against a beer and pouring himself some whisky instead and makes his way to the bedroom. He stands in the doorway and watches her as she goes through her nightly ritual seated in front of the dressing mirror. She's wearing a light peach nightdress and tying a head-wrap to hold her locks in place. She looks up, sees him and smiles.
"Hey, how was your day?"
Guess the look on his faces gave something away because she turns to him concern etched on her face. "Babe, is everything okay?"
He sets his drink down, walks over and kneels in front of her. She takes his face in her hands. She's seen this look before. She wraps her arms around him and just holds him.
