Ultimately, she gave a small nod and walked in when he'd stepped aside. She followed him into the kitchen and watched as he filled a kettle with water and set it on the stove. He hadn't really had a plan when he invited her into his apartment. He wasn't even sure what he had in his cabinets. He found a couple of tea bags and an assortment of non-perishable items.
He began to put the groceries away before he finally spoke, still not looking at her, "I hope tea is okay. I've never kept coffee. Please, sit."
"Tea is fine," she responded. He heard her sit at the table after a moment of hesitation.
As the water boiled, he finished the groceries and grabbed out two mugs, "I don't have any milk or cream. As you know, I haven't been grocery shopping and your mother just sent meals. I do have some sugar and honey left over, though."
"Black is fine," she stated.
He poured the tea and then finally turned to face her, carrying both mugs. She looked as nervous as he was. Why was she nervous? Why was he?
He was feeling even more restless than he had during that final group, when he finally decided he needed some space. But, he didn't feel like he needed space this time. He was nervous and restless, but he didn't want to get away from her. There was something comforting about her presence.
He set a mug in front of her and then took a seat across the table. Silence reigned as they carefully sipped the tea.
"It was… nice of your mother to have food brought. Thank you for delivering," he finally said, glancing from his tea to his guest.
"It's no problem. She likes to help her tenants any way she can," she gave a small smile.
"Tenant?" he laughed. The embarrassment about his position flared. He only had himself to blame now. "It's hard to be a tenant when you aren't here. More like charity. I'm sure you know…"
She watched him for a minute, debating on her answer, "My mom doesn't tell me a lot about her tenants. She does just like to help people."
"So, she never told you about when I was in the hospital?" he asked. It bugged him, the idea of her seeing him so pathetic. Feeling self-conscious bugged him even more. He'd always been sure of himself.
"No, she tells me even less about patients," Ami tilted her head, regarding him. The look was calculated, and Zoran fought not to squirm.
"But you've met me?" he asked, ignoring the burn that was slowly creeping up from his chest. He sounded so accusatory. And, her look was so knowing.
She was silent even longer this time and he wondered what it was she was weighing in her answers. There was information she was debating on whether to give him. Finally, she answered, "Yes, it's been a while though."
"Five years?" he asked. She didn't really answer. There was a slight tilt of her head that seemed to confirm that she had seen him during that time. It had to have been during that time. He hadn't met her before, and he hadn't met her after. "I don't remember that period."
"I know," she answered easily and gave a small smile. It seemed to suggest she knew more, "A lot of people had that happen."
"I've heard," he answered. She was too calm, too informed about him. She hadn't appeared surprised to see him when he opened the door. If her mother really didn't share details about patients, and from what he knew of his doctor she took ethics seriously, this girl had learned details about him some other way. She knew who he was and that he was here before showing up. And, he felt sure she knew even more about him than she was revealing. "You seem to have plenty of information about me."
"There are ways to learn about people," one side of her mouth quirked up. She looked so satisfied with herself that Zoran found himself momentarily impressed. He almost found himself so caught up he forgot to consider what she was saying.
His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, considering her for a moment.
My daughter is always on a computer.
The comment was off hand and, at the time, Zoran hadn't really cared. He assumed she had a preteen daughter who spent her time in front of a screen. The quiet woman across from him was different than the image he'd conjured of his doctor's daughter. He imagined that his assumptions regarding all her computer time was mistaken as well.
"Interesting," he finally murmured before finishing his tea and moving to the sink. "You clearly have information about me. I guess, the questions is… Why is it so important to you?"
She was quite for a moment and then he heard her coming up beside him. She gently set her cup next to his in the sink. She stayed beside him, closer than he expected to her to stand, and he found himself exceedingly aware of her, "It's important to a lot of people."
"More people that I don't remember meeting?" He raised his eyebrows and looked down at her. He felt himself growing defensive and he couldn't figure out why. The entire visit had been anything but just a friendly chat. For the first time, however, that feeling to run was coming up again. He wanted her out of the house. That comfort he felt with her had vanished and been replaced with growing… fear?
He did not want to know who any of these important people were.
"I should go," she met his gaze and smiled. He had the strangest sensation that she knew what he was thinking.
She didn't wait for a response but moved towards his door and he followed after her. She stopped at the note by his door and scribbled on it, "If you need anything, don't hesitate to let me know. It was good to meet you, Zoran."
He pushed his hands into his pockets and gave an uncommitted nod, "Thanks again for the meals."
She gave him another accessing look, smiled, and then was gone.
He released a breath after she left. His eyes strayed towards his backpack still blocking part of the entryway. It would so easy to just pick it back up and disappear again. A part of him wanted to. He wanted to avoid those others. He wanted to avoid Khaled. He almost wanted to avoid Ami.
He sighed. He already knew that wasn't an option. He was curious, despite every instinct telling him to resist whatever pulled him towards her and towards whoever these others were. That's why he returned, wasn't it? To find out what he's trying to avoid and face it. To figure out how it's related to those lost months of his life.
He returned to the couch, flopped onto his back, and once again covered his eyes.