Chapter 61: Working This Out

Owens' Perspective

The antibiotics had been working in Owen's system just over 48 hours and he was back to feeling human. Staying home from his scheduled shift on Tuesday and resting all day Wednesday had given Owen plenty of time to slow down, ponder, and take stock. By the time he arrived at the hospital at 6pm on Wednesday, Owen was looking forward to being busy and not having to think. He wanted to stop being so aware of what a jerk he'd been on Monday, both in general and to Amelia.

On Monday, Amelia's first day back at the hospital after months away, Owen had been so tense. Deep down, he had been lovingly concerned for Amelia on her first day back. He wanted her to have a wonderful shift, but the unfolding of her day seemed to be more and more miserable each time he encountered her. On his own front, the ER had been a nightmare to manage as it stacked up to the point that doctors were treating patients in the hallway. Then before he and Amelia had even arrived for their shifts, they had somehow completely forgotten about summer break when they spent hours trying to figure out childcare and how they could possibly balance their new lives with Amelia working.

Owen knew for certain that he wanted to offer the first overture toward reconciliation, but he wasn't sure how to begin patching everything up with Amelia. Monday had been a disappointment on many levels. As he replayed the day over and over in his mind, he continued to be certain that Monday had taken two to tango. Sure, he'd been out of line. There was absolutely, positively no doubt about that. However, Amelia had her share of missteps throughout the day as well.

On a minor level, Owen was miffed about two of the texts. The bitchy text stating he'd been an ass seemed to have come out of nowhere, and she'd sent that text right after he'd told her he didn't feel well. Then when he'd sent his final text about needing her help, she ignored it and never responded. In light of his behavior that day and the crap he'd pulled, he could easily blow them off. Owen knew people fought, they said words in the heat of the moment, and they ignored each other. Really, he knew that he needed to simply forget about the texts.

However, on another level, Owen was deeply and honestly concerned. After processing his thoughts repeatedly, he couldn't get past the fact that she'd excused herself from any responsibility toward their family for three hours without any discussion, without confiding in him, or without at least simply chatting with him about it. Even deeper than the three hours, though, she'd failed to be honest with him about her needs. Rather than risking vulnerability with her husband, she fled. She hid. She ran away… at least temporarily. Why couldn't she trust him with her pain? His heart was shattered. He wasn't angry, he was hurt, fearful, and perplexed.

Listing Amelia's missteps in his head was far easier than considering his own. Utilizing his analytical skills and his tendency to overthink his worries, Owen forced himself to categorize his errors. In addition to unconsciously falling into unwelcome assumptions about gender roles, he had been insensitive and overly critical. He hated even admitting to himself that those words fit his behavior. Admitting and apologizing for them to Amelia was going to take great resolve and a submission of his ego.

He regretted the way he'd barked orders and demanded status updates when the ER was bursting. He knew full well that better options for interacting with staff and with his wife existed. When Amelia first arrived on the ER floor Monday morning, Owen was so slammed that he barely even greeted her. He had also been unreasonably impatient when she hadn't arrived for the consult in curtain 3 according to his timeline. Only later did he learn that she'd been the only doctor to engage Mr. Strauss enough to fully assess his condition and discover that the poor man had experienced both a heart attack and stroke.

For some reason unknown even to himself, Owen had been particularly critical toward Amelia on her first day back. When she mumbled about Derek's instructions that her surgeries would need to be observed, Owen's reaction was overblown. He acted like a drill sergeant yelling at a recruit, rather than like a professional chief redirecting a colleague respectfully. Later, he not only questioned her medication orders mid-trauma, but he pointed them out to Derek in front of a roomful of people.

Although he disliked it, Owen was aware that he sometimes held troublesome expectations related to gender roles. While professionally supportive of female colleagues, he caught himself in a more traditional mindset in his own marriages. With Cristina, he often found himself expecting to have the last word even if she refused to embrace his habit. His latent and subtle sexism had sometimes been behind their conflicts. Now, with Amelia, he realized that she'd been willing to work just half-time, but he hadn't even considered reducing his workload. He had also insisted that the childcare routine be tried for a few weeks and reassessed if needed – an insistence that he declared without conversing with her about it. Deep down and although he didn't say it aloud, Owen knew that his assumption was that Amelia would reassess her schedule if changes were necessary.

On the positive side, Owen was keenly aware that he had attempted to mend fences twice on Monday and that Amelia had snapped back at him without pause. Then, with Derek, Owen had redirected the brain bleed surgery so Amelia wouldn't have to leave the girls in order to consult on the patient's position. Although he didn't want to share Derek's doubts with Amelia, Owen also knew that he had risen to his wife's defense when Derek expressed concern that Amelia was not ready to return.

Amelia's perspective

Even on Thursday, three days later, Amelia was still thinking about how Monday had been spectacularly rotten. After many months away from surgery, she had been admonished by Owen for expressing frustration and had been humiliated by her brother who insisted her surgeries be supervised. Owen had also questioned her medication orders in front of a roomful of staffers. Although she let it pass in the moment, she was frustrated that Owen questioned her so publicly. Furthermore, she'd known exactly what she was ordering and why, but resigned to his suggestion because they were in the midst of a trauma.

Having had time to play the day over in her head, she concluded that Monday was really about more than just Monday's challenges. Her first day back at the hospital had been a tipping point where the transformations and shifts of the last year became sharply obvious and weighed heavily on her at once. Deep down, she realized that she didn't want to discuss her feelings with Owen while she was attempting to sort them out because he might question or challenge her as she processed aloud. She just wanted to be heard, not fixed or assessed. Underneath it all, she was afraid that trying to balance motherhood and medicine was going to be too challenging and she feared she had no idea how to do it well. Experiencing so much pressure, she was tempted to escape and to drink.

Although she had taken care of herself on Monday afternoon by stepping away to recalibrate and by going to a meeting, she admitted to herself that she'd basically abandoned Owen and assumed he would handle their home life on his own all afternoon. In her self-absorption, she'd forgotten that she and Owen were a team. She regretted not being more aware of their needs and being far too focused on her needs. Even so, being open with him about her needs was a challenge for Amelia. His tendency to tend to her was endearing but also occasionally nudged her to not disclose her struggles. She wanted so badly to be seen by people, even by her husband, as competent, confident, and resilient.

In the end, the time laughing with Torres and the conversation at the AA meeting had balanced out the insanity. Amelia was thankful that she took those opportunities to blow off steam and to gain a better perspective. Going to AA helped her see for herself that she needed to step out of her pity party and widen her scope. By beginning to do so, Amelia noted that she needed to apologize to Owen.

Scheduling the Summit

On Thursday morning, Amelia had called Patricia to find out how Owen's 24-hour shift was unfolding. By the time she called, he was rounding toward Hour 15. Patricia joked that she was afraid to jinx Owen's luck by admitting that his shift had been manageable. He had even been able to sleep uninterrupted from 8pm – 2 am and again from 3:30am – 8am.

About an hour after Amelia's call, Owen leaned against a hallway wall after scrubbing out of a surgery. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent a text to Amelia that read, Not going to need to sleep when I get home. Can we talk and work everything out? O. Since Monday, the couple had respectfully co-existed but not authentically communicated. Owen's ear infections had only complicated matters and Amelia's patient and attentive care for him had served to increase his guilt about the mistakes he'd made on Monday.

Amelia's phone buzzed on the counter while she was upstairs putting the babies down for their morning nap. When Amelia returned to the kitchen, Bronwyn looked up from a coloring book and mentioned that the phone was making noise. After reading Owen's text, Amelia chuckled lightly, realizing that she and Owen were focused on the same goal. Her plan had been to surprise him at lunchtime, but she decided to set the surprise aside and give him a heads up instead. She wrote, I'd like to work things out. could come to hosp at lunch.

Owen was relieved that Amelia also wanted to talk. He responded, how about we meet in 3230 and go from there? Won't be disturbed. 3230 was a small on-call room set aside only for attendings. He thought the room was the best option for the two of them to converse uninterrupted.

Laughing, Amelia assumed Owen had something other than conversation on his mind. After careful thought, she wrote, we're both talking about working out…Do you mean verbally or physically? Let's plan on that order, eh?

Owen chuckled as he read and clarified, meant verbally, but both will do. 3230 at 1300? XXo

See you then,Amelia confirmed.

Truth Be Told

Amelia rested her head and upper body on a pile of pillows while she gazed at the ceiling of Room 3230 and waited for Owen to show up. The quiet surrounding her was a welcome change from the rush of the hospital and from the playful chaos at home. Owen slowly opened the door and saw her. He grinned and greeted her, "Hi, Mia."

Without sitting up, Amelia turned her head toward the door and smirked. "Hi."

With a hint of hesitation, Owen sat along the foot of the bed that Amelia occupied. He leaned back against the wall and grinned. She met his eye and mirrored his expression. Slowly, Amelia scooted up, so she was sitting more upright and leaning against the pillows. Simultaneously, they both uttered words about not knowing where to begin. Then they both invited the other one to go first.

Gently laughing and without exchanging words, they held their fists up and played Rock-Paper-Scissors. They both chose scissors. Owen joked, "Yep, both surgeons, huh?" They tried again. He showed a flat hand and Amelia had a fist. Owen reached over and wrapped his hand around her fist. He brought it to his lips, kissed her hand and began, "I'm sorry. If I could redo Monday, I would." Amelia grinned subtly and slowly closed her eyes.

"I've dissected the day multiple times. I know I crossed the line more than once, but I also know I was hurt too," he began. After looking down at the bed and then up at the door, Owen returned his gaze to Amelia and added, "I was abrupt. Insensitive, overly critical, and sexist." Owen continued to unfold his categories and admit his errors with honesty. He detailed examples in each category and disclosed that he was ashamed to admit the unconscious sexism that had informed some of his behavior.

Amelia listened to his apologies and descriptions before intervening with, "Not everything you did on Monday was horrible, and it wasn't just you that screwed up along the day." Smiling, Owen agreed and mentioned how he'd been rebuffed when he had tried to reach out to Amelia on Monday. He decided not to mention his conversations with Derek, instead stating vaguely, "I had your back more than it appeared I did." Then he concluded his general overview by saying, "I have more I want to say, but I'd rather hear from you a little."

"First off, will you come lay down beside me? I feel like we're miles apart with you sitting down there," Amelia shared. She adjusted herself so she was back to resting her back and head on the pile of pillows. Owen joined her, laying on his side and supporting his head with his bent arm. Amelia spoke about how fear undergirded her behavior on Monday. Rather than focusing on specifics, she chose to speak in generalities and share the emotions that had played a role in her day.

Owen added, "It hurt that you decided to pour your heart out to Torres and to the AA group rather than to me. I want to be here for you. I felt abandoned physically by your absence and relationally by your talks with everyone but me. I hope next time, you'll let me in a little deeper in the moment," Owen confided.

Amelia reached her hand out and stroked Owen's cheek, "I was so self-absorbed that I didn't consider that perspective at all. I just wanted to bounce my words and pain off others, so I had it sorted out before we talked. Honestly, Owen, although well-intended, there are times you try to fix or analyze for me rather than just listen to me. I needed to simply be heard before I could go deeper. Then I got home, and I'd planned on us being able to talk once the kids were in bed. But then you were sick, and you were still miserable on Tuesday and now, well… here we are."

"Here we are," Owen repeated with a soft grin. He locked his eyes on her face and admitted that he interpreted Amelia's Monday afternoon absence as a form of escape. "I wish that instead of fleeing from me, you could have trusted me enough to be vulnerable with me. Then again, with the way I bellowed at you and treated you, maybe I didn't deserve one iota of your presence or attention. I just wish we'd been able to talk along the way, to be honest in the moment. This routine has happened between us before - it's like we have to let everything crescendo to some full volume overture before we can sit down and confirm that we're even playing the same piece."

"If I would have looked at you in the ER and shared that I found your admonishment offensive, do you really think you would have listened at that moment?" Amelia inquired.

"Probably not," Owen admitted. "From my end, I have to be honest and say that I did disclose how I felt in the moment when we were texting, and your return texts weren't particularly understanding or compassionate."

"That is a very kind Owen Hunt way of saying that I was a snarky bitch. And, you're right. I was," Amelia responded.

"I'm more concerned that you basically took off without any discussion and assumed I'd keep all the balls in the air," Owen stated.

"I did," Amelia nodded. "I was so furious with the way you and Derek had treated me that I was ready to rage like the Tasmanian Devil, and scream in your face, and pound on your chest. I shared with Torres that I think we all became so used to tending me when I was on bedrest that we all forgot about the woman I was and am."

Amelia looked toward the corner of the room and breathed in and out a few times before looking him in the eye and declaring, "You forgot who I am, Owen."

He responded, "Yeah. I did."

"You treated me like a fragile flower that couldn't stand on my own."

"You're right. I did."

"You humiliated me more than once. You humiliated me in front of staffers."

"I know," Owen confirmed. "Will you forgive me anyway? Even though I was an ass? Even though I don't deserve to be forgiven?"

Amelia stared at Owen with a subtle hint of compassionate and gratitude. His willingness to own his mistakes spoke to her. Slowly, Amelia responded, "Yep, I will."

Owen mimicked Amelia's structure and stated, "Mia, you abandoned me with the kids without any discussion or conversation."

"I did," she admitted.

"You turned to others and shared your heart, which broke mine."

"I know."

"You mentioned earlier that we could… uh… physically work out after relationally working out," Owen smirked with a sly reminder as he leaned in closer and placed his hand on her arm.

"Yes. I did," she grinned. "Shall we forgive each other even though we're both imperfect and always will be?"

"I think so," Owen smiled.

"You want to have passionate, emotion-filled make up sex?" Amelia inquired as she smiled widely and raised her eyebrows.

"I do," Owen growled suggestively as he moved on top of her and began tearing off her clothes.