After he had finished his one-man pity party, Henrik had picked himself up off the floor and went into the kitchen, checking to see if Roxanna had put away the groceries. For the most part, everything was in its proper place, and it only took him a few moments to take care of the rest as he brewed himself a mug of tea. Once that was ready, he went into the living room and slowly sipped at it, perusing the mail that had piled up in his absence. Roxanna had neatly arranged everything on the coffee table, stacking his magazines and journals in one pile, bills in another, and personal correspondence in a third. It was just like her to make things neat and easy for him. Ignoring the bills for the moment, he picked up the few letters that had come in, and he sighed when he saw that one from Maja was on top, sent before they had left the States. Flipping past that, he found a letter from Roxanna's father, addressed to the both of them, and he felt a pang of regret stab his heart as he pulled the letter from the open envelope, reading the words of wisdom there.
"I don't know if you'll ever forgive me for hurting your daughter so," Henrik murmured as he folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope before setting aside the correspondence and picking up the older edition of The Lancet. Henrik read for a few hours, trying to ignore the way his stomach growled hungrily as it passed supper time and Roxanna still hadn't returned. Sighing a little, he set aside the finished journal before picking up the next and starting to read those papers.
By that time, his attention was divided, though, and he kept pausing to listen for the door opening. Worrying the corner of his lips between his teeth, he tried to focus time and again, finding it a losing endeavor, until he finally closed the journal and laid it on top of the neat pile before standing and pacing the small space of their flat. Roxanna didn't even have a pager yet that he could bleep her on, to see if she was all right, and a few tears of anxiety began to streak down his face as he imagined the worst things that could happen to her. She was vulnerable, after all, and he didn't want anyone taking advantage of that.
Around nine, he wondered if she had gone to John and would return in the morning. That made sense, and he felt a little of his worry ebb as he went to the bathroom and got into the shower, trying to push the niggling doubts he had about his supposition to the back of his brain. After all, if she was with John, he would keep her safe, Henrik was certain of that. No matter what bad blood had arisen between them, he would never harm either of them if they came to him for sanctuary.
Stepping out of the shower, he quickly dried off and pulled on his pyjamas, stretching out on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. There was something so cold and empty about being in a bed without a loved one next to him, when that had been his expectation. And so, he continued to stare and wonder, his brain working overtime to try and convince himself that Roxanna was perfectly all right. Though he was exhausted, he couldn't drift off to sleep, and after five hours of arguing with his heart, Henrik sat up and took a deep breath, feeling like he needed to go out and look for Roxanna.
Not even bothering to pull on clothes, Henrik stepped into his loafers before pulling a jumper on and grabbing his keys from the hook. As he shoved the keys into his pocket, Henrik began to wonder where he would even begin to look for Roxanna. He walked down the hall of their building, his mind prodded him to head to the closest park, knowing that she had an affinity for green spaces, even if they were a bit dangerous at night. He had almost walked out the door when he heard a familiar sniffle.
Pausing, Henrik looked around the lobby, at first finding it empty. But he knew that she was there, somewhere, and so he stepped away from the door and took another look around, finally seeing the familiar blonde hair above the arm of the sofa that was near the corner. Frowning a little, he slowly made his way over to her side, crouching down in front of her as he reached out to rest his hand on her shoulder, not wanting to startle her.
It took a few moments, but finally, Roxanna looked up at him, her eyelashes spiky. "Darling," he murmured as her lower lip continued to wobble. Knowing they wouldn't be moving for a little while, he sank down onto the floor, trying not to shiver from the cold of the marble that seeped through his thin pyjama pants. Once he was fully seated, Roxanna scooted closer to his side, her head coming to rest on his chest as she continued to cry piteously. "Have you been here this whole time?"
"I thought you would come for me sooner. I assumed that you would know I longed for you to follow after me in some grand gesture of romanticism. I was stupid."
"It's never stupid to want that, Roxy," he murmured as he closed an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his lap so that she would be a little more comfortable. She seemed to welcome the embrace, as she turned in his lap to straddle him, her face coming to rest in the crook of his neck. Slowly, he stroked her back and murmured lowly in her ear that he was there now, and that he would hold her for as long as she needed.
"I don't feel so good, Henrik."
"I can only imagine. It's after three in the morning. Do you want to come back home with me? Only if you want to. I can always call John, if you'd rather spend the night in his hotel room?"
His voice broke at the end of his words, and Roxanna held him even tighter, shaking her head a little before pressing her lips against his neck. "I don't want to be away from you. I love you."
"I love you, too, darling," he murmured before kissing her softly. A softer quiet fell between them, and he relished the gentleness between them in that moment. There might be the opportunity to talk and heal from the ugliness that had developed between them so quickly. "Just let me know when you're ready to head back to our apartment, please. I don't want you coming down with something before we start work on Monday."
"All right," she whispered, nuzzling her nose into the hollow of his collarbone. She was positively freezing, and he shivered a little as he bundled her closer to him, trying to let some of his body warmth bleed into her. "I'm sorry for worrying you."
"I will always worry about you, my love. Because, well, you are my heart."
"Oh, Henrik," she said, a fresh sob tearing from her lips before she pulled away from him, looking into his eyes. "Take me home now?"
"Yes," he replied, gently pushing her from his lap so that he could help her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her waist as he led her over to their door, wanting nothing more than to slip into bed with her and hold her close as he tried to explain just why he had been so cruel to Maja.
