Thinking back to that strange moment in recovery with Robert lying there,
looking so unlike himself, so pale and soft, and seeing him now, laughing
and strong, Elizabeth was struck by the constrast. What reserves of inner
strength had it taken to effect this transformation ? To make this kind of
recovery in this amount of time spoke volumes of his drive, his
determination, his almost superhuman will. The vulnerable victim lying on
the table last May and the robust, energetic man sitting next to her now
were like two different people. Would this man, eyes sparkling with
impatience and inquisitiveness, this powerful, stubborn, independent man be
capable of saying those words to her ever again ?
She tensed involuntarily, squeezing his hand without meaning to, and he looked at her more closely with a mix of curiosity and concern. She turned her eyes away from him a moment to collect her thoughts and compose her face. After all, she thought, he had only made that sweet, sincere declaration under the influence of some heavy-duty narcotics. No one could take anything he said in that state seriously. That's how she had escaped the teasing of the others in the room. The usually gossipy scrub nurses had been totally silent, even though Elizabeth was sure that they had all overheard Robert's mumbled avowals. Everyone knew that after anaesthesia, patients said the strangest things, things which they hadn't meant and couldn't remember after. But unconsciously, she had been holding on to those words for months. The idea that he truly loved her. In the loneliest moments, and often in the moments just after sex with a man she knew had no real feelings for her, Elizabeth would remember the softness of Robert's voice, the simplicity of his words, the way he had said her name. Maybe she had avoided him after the surgery not to protect him but to protect herself. To save herself from the realization that he hadn't meant what he had said. To preserve the fantasy that someone out there loved her.
After she had squeezed his hand, Robert had tensed too. In that touch, that moment of quick gentle pressure, he had felt something. Her wedding ring. It was back on. He looked away from her in disappointment, fixing his eyes on the floor, not caring about the conversation that had been dropped mid-question, feeling again like he had lost his way in the maze of their too-twisted interaction. One moment he felt that he was moving towards her in a straight line, that they were about to connect, that there would suddenly be this moment of recognition when she'd look into his eyes and know everything that he'd been hiding. And in the next he was lost, wandering in a dark place, adrift on that familiar swell of sadness. He knew that she didn't mean to hurt him, but everytime they got close ..
« Hey,hey, » she interrupted his thoughts, tugging at his hand. « Come back here, you ! » she teased affectionately. All of the sudden she had become aware of his sudden slipping away from her, of his sinking into dejection. His sad expression tugged at her heart, and she pulled him back toward her. In that movement he noticed against her white neck a golden gleam, a flash of metal, and suddenly his heart flooded with happiness. She was wearing the necklace he'd given to her. She'd accepted it without asking for an explanation. Maybe she knew what he'd wanted her to know. Maybe it was all so much easier than he'd thought.
They were facing each other then and he suddenly felt that anything was possible, that he could tell her that he loved her, that she would just let him. But the longer he waited and the quieter she was the more overwhelmed he felt by the enormity of it all, by how much he really did love her, by how much he had to lose if he told her now. He bit his bottom lip, trying to keep back the words, to save himself, when she reached out to touch his mouth, tentatively and gently as if worried that he might bite too hard and start to bleed. He found that she was delicately stroking his lip with her finger and that her eyes were watching this mesmerizing movement as if she was somehow disconnected from her own action. He closed his own eyes and took just the tip of her finger between his lips, tasting her with his tongue as if she were some delicacy that he had never before savored.
Elizabeth thought that her chest would explode from the pounding of her heart, so she slid her finger out of his mouth and down the line of his jaw, finally deciding to hold his chin in her hand, to keep his face turned towards hers. Robert slowly reopened his eyes as if waking from the most fascinating dream he had ever had. « Ummm, » he began haltingly, « I, um » Elizabeth shook her head to tell him that his words were not necessary, but he continued, « I don't know if I can stand to look at you any longer, » he began, and she blinked in hurt, misunderstanding his meaning. « No !, » he objected but softly, « you're just too . » and as she smiled her understanding they drifted into silence at their wordless confession of everything they were feeling for each other. After quite some time of this, Elizabeth leaned forward and gently pulled him behind her so that she could lie back against his chest, so that he could cradle her head in the well of his collar bone, so that she could look down for as long as she wanted at their clasped right hands resting in her lap.
After more silence, Elizabeth moved her lips toward his ear and whispered a nervous challenge, « What about the blond ? » Robert's chest bounced up in a laugh. When Elizabeth wrinkled her nose in annoyance, he finally answered. « Well, I guess I just thought you were a bigger person than that. I mean, I love Ella and all, but if you're going to be that jealous ..... » Elizabeth's wrinkled brow smoothed into a smile, but she gave his hand a playful tap anyway.
Then after a moment, her brow furrowed again as she looked around the hospital room. « What if something happened to me ? What if I really was ill ? What about Ella ? » she asked him, her voice choked with frightened tears. Robert pulled her back towards him in a warm, strong embrace and whispered reassuring shushing sounds into her hair much like he'd done with her small, frightened daughter not long ago. « Lizzie, » he said, half- stern, half soft, « your doctor orders you not to worry now. I'm going to take good care of you, » he promised. Tears of gratitude slipped down her cheeks, and she turned in his arms to face him, to bury her head against his shoulder and to tighten their embrace. As he stroked her hair with his hand, he repeated her name in a whisper, « Oh Lizzie, Lizzie, it's okay. » She looked up at him then with her tear-stained face, realizing that it had been a long time since he'd called her Lizzie. He wiped away a tear with his finger and continued, « But you know, it's alright to cry sometimes. You don't always have to be the strong one. » And when she tried a little smile for him he smiled back, kissed her gently and almost chastely on the lips, and murmured against her smile, inside of their kiss, « I love you. »
She tensed involuntarily, squeezing his hand without meaning to, and he looked at her more closely with a mix of curiosity and concern. She turned her eyes away from him a moment to collect her thoughts and compose her face. After all, she thought, he had only made that sweet, sincere declaration under the influence of some heavy-duty narcotics. No one could take anything he said in that state seriously. That's how she had escaped the teasing of the others in the room. The usually gossipy scrub nurses had been totally silent, even though Elizabeth was sure that they had all overheard Robert's mumbled avowals. Everyone knew that after anaesthesia, patients said the strangest things, things which they hadn't meant and couldn't remember after. But unconsciously, she had been holding on to those words for months. The idea that he truly loved her. In the loneliest moments, and often in the moments just after sex with a man she knew had no real feelings for her, Elizabeth would remember the softness of Robert's voice, the simplicity of his words, the way he had said her name. Maybe she had avoided him after the surgery not to protect him but to protect herself. To save herself from the realization that he hadn't meant what he had said. To preserve the fantasy that someone out there loved her.
After she had squeezed his hand, Robert had tensed too. In that touch, that moment of quick gentle pressure, he had felt something. Her wedding ring. It was back on. He looked away from her in disappointment, fixing his eyes on the floor, not caring about the conversation that had been dropped mid-question, feeling again like he had lost his way in the maze of their too-twisted interaction. One moment he felt that he was moving towards her in a straight line, that they were about to connect, that there would suddenly be this moment of recognition when she'd look into his eyes and know everything that he'd been hiding. And in the next he was lost, wandering in a dark place, adrift on that familiar swell of sadness. He knew that she didn't mean to hurt him, but everytime they got close ..
« Hey,hey, » she interrupted his thoughts, tugging at his hand. « Come back here, you ! » she teased affectionately. All of the sudden she had become aware of his sudden slipping away from her, of his sinking into dejection. His sad expression tugged at her heart, and she pulled him back toward her. In that movement he noticed against her white neck a golden gleam, a flash of metal, and suddenly his heart flooded with happiness. She was wearing the necklace he'd given to her. She'd accepted it without asking for an explanation. Maybe she knew what he'd wanted her to know. Maybe it was all so much easier than he'd thought.
They were facing each other then and he suddenly felt that anything was possible, that he could tell her that he loved her, that she would just let him. But the longer he waited and the quieter she was the more overwhelmed he felt by the enormity of it all, by how much he really did love her, by how much he had to lose if he told her now. He bit his bottom lip, trying to keep back the words, to save himself, when she reached out to touch his mouth, tentatively and gently as if worried that he might bite too hard and start to bleed. He found that she was delicately stroking his lip with her finger and that her eyes were watching this mesmerizing movement as if she was somehow disconnected from her own action. He closed his own eyes and took just the tip of her finger between his lips, tasting her with his tongue as if she were some delicacy that he had never before savored.
Elizabeth thought that her chest would explode from the pounding of her heart, so she slid her finger out of his mouth and down the line of his jaw, finally deciding to hold his chin in her hand, to keep his face turned towards hers. Robert slowly reopened his eyes as if waking from the most fascinating dream he had ever had. « Ummm, » he began haltingly, « I, um » Elizabeth shook her head to tell him that his words were not necessary, but he continued, « I don't know if I can stand to look at you any longer, » he began, and she blinked in hurt, misunderstanding his meaning. « No !, » he objected but softly, « you're just too . » and as she smiled her understanding they drifted into silence at their wordless confession of everything they were feeling for each other. After quite some time of this, Elizabeth leaned forward and gently pulled him behind her so that she could lie back against his chest, so that he could cradle her head in the well of his collar bone, so that she could look down for as long as she wanted at their clasped right hands resting in her lap.
After more silence, Elizabeth moved her lips toward his ear and whispered a nervous challenge, « What about the blond ? » Robert's chest bounced up in a laugh. When Elizabeth wrinkled her nose in annoyance, he finally answered. « Well, I guess I just thought you were a bigger person than that. I mean, I love Ella and all, but if you're going to be that jealous ..... » Elizabeth's wrinkled brow smoothed into a smile, but she gave his hand a playful tap anyway.
Then after a moment, her brow furrowed again as she looked around the hospital room. « What if something happened to me ? What if I really was ill ? What about Ella ? » she asked him, her voice choked with frightened tears. Robert pulled her back towards him in a warm, strong embrace and whispered reassuring shushing sounds into her hair much like he'd done with her small, frightened daughter not long ago. « Lizzie, » he said, half- stern, half soft, « your doctor orders you not to worry now. I'm going to take good care of you, » he promised. Tears of gratitude slipped down her cheeks, and she turned in his arms to face him, to bury her head against his shoulder and to tighten their embrace. As he stroked her hair with his hand, he repeated her name in a whisper, « Oh Lizzie, Lizzie, it's okay. » She looked up at him then with her tear-stained face, realizing that it had been a long time since he'd called her Lizzie. He wiped away a tear with his finger and continued, « But you know, it's alright to cry sometimes. You don't always have to be the strong one. » And when she tried a little smile for him he smiled back, kissed her gently and almost chastely on the lips, and murmured against her smile, inside of their kiss, « I love you. »
