Reflections on the Water - Chapter Four
Being nurse manager had its perks, Abby discovered. She basically set her own schedule, which meant she could work opposite shifts from Carter. She wanted to avoid as much post-break-up awkwardness as she could. She didn't want to end up arguing in front of everyone. The ER gossip mill was vicious, and that was the last thing she wanted.
Not that there was much to argue about anymore. It had been almost a week since that scene on the roof. They'd gone to each other's apartments and picked up their own leftover things. They'd given back their keys to the other's apartments. There wasn't much left to be done.
She was sorry things had ended the way they had. She cared about Carter. She wanted him to be happy. But she knew she couldn't make him-or anyone- happy, unless she was accepted for who she was. If someone tried to change her, to save her when she didn't want to be saved, it made her mad. And when she was mad, she had a nasty habit of taking it out on those around her.
So she worked opposite shifts when she could. And when she couldn't, she kept the conversations to work topics only. She hoped after some time passed they could be friends again, but for now she thought it was best to stick to work.
She thought about Luka constantly. When she woke up every morning, she wished he was there. She missed the easy way they worked together, how they anticipated each other's moves even during a crisis. She missed sharing a quick joke when they had a little downtime.
She missed him so much, she found herself outside his apartment almost every night. She'd stand there for a long time, staring up at his window. She'd jingle her keys in her pocket, cursing herself for a fool, knowing she should go back to her own apartment but also knowing she wouldn't. She slipped inside and locked his door behind her. She draped her jacket across the back of his leather chair and slowly approached the bedroom. She stared at the bed, hardly even realizing her feet were moving until she sat down on the edge. After that first time, though, she always made sure she was awake and gone before his neighbor came over to feed his fish. Her nighttime trips remained her secret, the one piece of him she could hold onto.
She checked her mail every day, silently hoping for a postcard, but nothing came. She wondered how he was doing, if he was happy there. Her heart lurched at the thought that he may have found someone-another doctor or nurse-and decided that was who he wanted. It made her ache to think of him with another woman. She knew he'd been with other women since their break up. Nicole, Chuny, and who knew who else. But he never stayed with them. She wanted him to stay with her.
That's what she'd realized these last few days, that she wanted Luka back. She wanted to make it work this time. She didn't want to make the same mistakes again. If and when he came back, she was going to talk to him, really talk this time. She wouldn't keep things bottled up like she had before. He'd tried to help with her family too, but she hadn't really let him. She hadn't told him just how much the whole situation hurt her. She wouldn't do that again. If he gave her a second chance, she would grab onto it with both hands and do everything she could to make it work.
* * * * *
Stars shone in the sky like a sea of diamonds on a blanket of black velvet. The ground was so far down it wasn't visible from the small airplane window. Not that he was looking.
Luka leaned his head back against the seat and stared blankly at the seat in front of him. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally. He needed a shave. He needed a real shower. He needed to crawl into his bed and sleep for about four days straight. But he didn't think that was going to happen. He hadn't slept through the night the entire seven weeks he'd been gone.
Being in the Congo, seeing the poverty, the war injuries, had reminded him so much of Croatia. Of the devastation he'd faced. Of holding Danjiela and Jasna in his arms as they took their last breaths. Of finding Marko already gone. He'd never felt so helpless, so utterly alone as in those quiet hours after they were gone. He'd wept for them, promising the devil his soul if he could bring them back. But they couldn't come back, and nothing had ever completely filled the hole that his family had left.
One woman had come close. One woman who hoarded her happiness, who had refused to take the risk of letting him inside her heart. A woman whose stubbornness frustrated him to no end, yet one whose strength and beauty took his breath away.
Abby. Just thinking her name made his heart rate speed up a bit.
They shared quite a history. An easy working relationship at first with a little mild flirtation thrown in, all leading up to Abby's impulsive kiss in the ambulance bay. The memory almost brought a smile to his face. Of all the things they'd been through together, that very first kiss remained one of his very favorite memories of her. Playful, smiling; she was so beautiful when she smiled. She deserved to be happy, and he deeply regretted that he hadn't been able to do that.
The first date had been perfect, with all of the requisite getting-to-know- you small talk and nervous sexual tension. Until the mugger, whose name he'd never learned. He'd tried to pull away from her then, to hide inside himself and write the whole thing off. But she hadn't let him. She'd sought him out and comforted him, and from that point on he hadn't been able to get her out of his head, or his heart.
It hadn't been easy. Dealing with her mother had been a trying experience. She hadn't wanted to let him in, to confide in him, and that had hurt. But he'd tried to be there for her all the same. And seeing her pain, and how she stoically tried to block it away and move on had made him respect her in some strange way. He knew it couldn't have been easy for her growing up with a bipolar mother, but she'd survived. He wondered if that was why she had such a hard time confiding in people now, because she'd never had anyone to confide in when she was younger.
They'd had some good times. They'd gone on dates, shared breakfasts, dinners. They'd gone to and from work together, sharing small talk and quiet jokes. And they'd made love. Usually quietly, without many words, but each and every encounter had been beautiful, powerful. It had felt right being with her that way, like it was meant to be.
But it hadn't lasted. Things had come between them, stupid, petty things made all the worse because they didn't talk to each other about things that mattered. She'd accused him of being unable to let Danjiela go. He'd thrown Carter in her face instead of accepting that he was a friend. They'd said awful things to each other, and they'd split up. Once his initial anger had dimmed, he'd been filled with desolation. He'd wanted her back, had wanted to try to find a way to make things right, but he hadn't known how, so he'd let it drop.
She was with Carter now, had been for more than a year. He'd accused her before of wanting Carter more than she wanted him, and when the pox scare had ended last year and he learned they'd gotten together, he'd been devastated. He hid it well, of course, but the pain was there, floating just below the surface. It was a slick blackness that gathered around his heart, deepening and expanding each time he saw them together.
He wanted her to be happy though, even if it was with Carter, because through all the turmoil he'd come to the conclusion he loved her. He loved her, with all of her strengths and her faults, and he thought he probably always would. So he'd wish her well, even if seeing her with Carter felt like a knife to the heart.
He wondered how they were doing now. He and Abby had only talked for a couple of minutes in the lounge the night before he left for Africa, but he'd gotten the impression things weren't going well for them. He didn't want to wish them ill; he wasn't going to let himself become that bitter. It just hurt so much to be apart from her, and to see her with Carter.
After leaving Africa he'd spent a few days in Zagreb with his father. It had been so good to see him again, he'd considered staying. But his father, with his gentle and direct way of speaking, had made him realize a few things that had plagued him the last couple of years. That Danjiela would want him to be happy. That falling in love with Abby was not a betrayal of his beloved former wife and children. That no matter how much you wanted it, some things weren't meant to be.
And also, that Chicago was now his home. Croatia was his birthplace, and he should always remember where he came from. Croatia had many beautiful things to offer, and he should visit often, but that his home was in Chicago.
Maybe that was true, he thought as the pilot came over the intercom and told them there were currently flying over New York and would be getting to Chicago in a couple hours. But Luka wasn't sure he could stay at County. It was getting too hard to see Abby with Carter every day. He loved her, and seeing her with another man was torture.
He decided finally, as the plane descended toward O'Hare, that he would begin searching for a job at another hospital. Maybe he'd look for another inner city hospital on the other side of the city. The atmosphere would be busy, drowning out the worst of his dark thoughts, and he wouldn't have to look at Abby every day and mourn what couldn't be.
He was sluggish when he got off the plane. He felt like he was coming off of a ten-day drinking binge, and he probably looked the part too. He was glad he hadn't told anyone he was coming back. It would give him a chance to rest, to get his head back on straight before he began searching for a new job. He would have to talk to Abby eventually; she deserved to hear straight from him that he was leaving. That would have to wait, though. He wanted to make sure he had somewhere to go before he told her.
He grabbed his luggage and walked a straight line out of the airport and hailed a cab. He'd left the Viper at home, not wanting to leave it in the airport parking lot when he hadn't known how long he'd be gone. So he climbed into the back seat of the cab and leaned his head back as the driver pulled away. He drifted in an out of sleep until a loud "Hey buddy!" from the cab driver shook him awake. He paid the man and dragged his luggage from the car. As the cabbie sped off into the night, Luka dug around for his keys and walked into his building. It would feel good to sleep in a real bed, he thought, instead of just a hard cot covered in mosquito netting. He figured he was too exhausted to even dream tonight. Which meant he wouldn't have to picture Abby crawling into bed next to him.
He unlocked his door and stepped inside. He didn't bother with lights as he tossed his luggage aside. A shaft of moonlight shined through his window, softly illuminating the living room.
It took him a few moments to realize there was something different about the room. There was some small detail his subconscious was trying to make him see. But he was so tired, it took several visual sweeps of the room to find it. His chair. There was a dark-colored jacket laying over the back of the chair. It hadn't been there when he'd left. He approached it cautiously, looking around for any strange shadows.
He didn't see any. He picked up the jacket and examined it. It looked vaguely familiar. He'd seen this jacket before. His heart kicked up a notch. He knew someone who had a jacket just like this one. But there was no reason for it to be in his apartment. It didn't make sense. He brought the jacket to his face and inhaled slowly. It smelled like her. It had to be hers. But what was it doing in his apartment? Was someone trying to play a sick joke on him?
He dropped the jacket back on the chair and ran his hands through his hair, over his face. It couldn't be her jacket. His neighbor must have left it, and his mind was playing tricks by making him think it was hers. That was it. Of course. He would return the jacket to his neighbor in the morning.
He headed for his bedroom, tapping his finger against the top of the fish tank as he went. As he approached his bedroom he realized his heart still hadn't slowed down. It was still going full steam ahead, and he knew he wasn't going to get much sleep after all.
He stopped in the bedroom doorway. His heart froze in his chest, then started beating again, so rapidly he was afraid it would burst. He felt dizzy suddenly and had to grab the door frame to steady himself. He blinked rapidly and shook his head to clear it. He took a couple of slow steps into the room, his eyes never leaving the bed, or its peacefully sleeping occupant.
He found himself paralyzed, staring at Abby as she dreamed.
Being nurse manager had its perks, Abby discovered. She basically set her own schedule, which meant she could work opposite shifts from Carter. She wanted to avoid as much post-break-up awkwardness as she could. She didn't want to end up arguing in front of everyone. The ER gossip mill was vicious, and that was the last thing she wanted.
Not that there was much to argue about anymore. It had been almost a week since that scene on the roof. They'd gone to each other's apartments and picked up their own leftover things. They'd given back their keys to the other's apartments. There wasn't much left to be done.
She was sorry things had ended the way they had. She cared about Carter. She wanted him to be happy. But she knew she couldn't make him-or anyone- happy, unless she was accepted for who she was. If someone tried to change her, to save her when she didn't want to be saved, it made her mad. And when she was mad, she had a nasty habit of taking it out on those around her.
So she worked opposite shifts when she could. And when she couldn't, she kept the conversations to work topics only. She hoped after some time passed they could be friends again, but for now she thought it was best to stick to work.
She thought about Luka constantly. When she woke up every morning, she wished he was there. She missed the easy way they worked together, how they anticipated each other's moves even during a crisis. She missed sharing a quick joke when they had a little downtime.
She missed him so much, she found herself outside his apartment almost every night. She'd stand there for a long time, staring up at his window. She'd jingle her keys in her pocket, cursing herself for a fool, knowing she should go back to her own apartment but also knowing she wouldn't. She slipped inside and locked his door behind her. She draped her jacket across the back of his leather chair and slowly approached the bedroom. She stared at the bed, hardly even realizing her feet were moving until she sat down on the edge. After that first time, though, she always made sure she was awake and gone before his neighbor came over to feed his fish. Her nighttime trips remained her secret, the one piece of him she could hold onto.
She checked her mail every day, silently hoping for a postcard, but nothing came. She wondered how he was doing, if he was happy there. Her heart lurched at the thought that he may have found someone-another doctor or nurse-and decided that was who he wanted. It made her ache to think of him with another woman. She knew he'd been with other women since their break up. Nicole, Chuny, and who knew who else. But he never stayed with them. She wanted him to stay with her.
That's what she'd realized these last few days, that she wanted Luka back. She wanted to make it work this time. She didn't want to make the same mistakes again. If and when he came back, she was going to talk to him, really talk this time. She wouldn't keep things bottled up like she had before. He'd tried to help with her family too, but she hadn't really let him. She hadn't told him just how much the whole situation hurt her. She wouldn't do that again. If he gave her a second chance, she would grab onto it with both hands and do everything she could to make it work.
* * * * *
Stars shone in the sky like a sea of diamonds on a blanket of black velvet. The ground was so far down it wasn't visible from the small airplane window. Not that he was looking.
Luka leaned his head back against the seat and stared blankly at the seat in front of him. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally. He needed a shave. He needed a real shower. He needed to crawl into his bed and sleep for about four days straight. But he didn't think that was going to happen. He hadn't slept through the night the entire seven weeks he'd been gone.
Being in the Congo, seeing the poverty, the war injuries, had reminded him so much of Croatia. Of the devastation he'd faced. Of holding Danjiela and Jasna in his arms as they took their last breaths. Of finding Marko already gone. He'd never felt so helpless, so utterly alone as in those quiet hours after they were gone. He'd wept for them, promising the devil his soul if he could bring them back. But they couldn't come back, and nothing had ever completely filled the hole that his family had left.
One woman had come close. One woman who hoarded her happiness, who had refused to take the risk of letting him inside her heart. A woman whose stubbornness frustrated him to no end, yet one whose strength and beauty took his breath away.
Abby. Just thinking her name made his heart rate speed up a bit.
They shared quite a history. An easy working relationship at first with a little mild flirtation thrown in, all leading up to Abby's impulsive kiss in the ambulance bay. The memory almost brought a smile to his face. Of all the things they'd been through together, that very first kiss remained one of his very favorite memories of her. Playful, smiling; she was so beautiful when she smiled. She deserved to be happy, and he deeply regretted that he hadn't been able to do that.
The first date had been perfect, with all of the requisite getting-to-know- you small talk and nervous sexual tension. Until the mugger, whose name he'd never learned. He'd tried to pull away from her then, to hide inside himself and write the whole thing off. But she hadn't let him. She'd sought him out and comforted him, and from that point on he hadn't been able to get her out of his head, or his heart.
It hadn't been easy. Dealing with her mother had been a trying experience. She hadn't wanted to let him in, to confide in him, and that had hurt. But he'd tried to be there for her all the same. And seeing her pain, and how she stoically tried to block it away and move on had made him respect her in some strange way. He knew it couldn't have been easy for her growing up with a bipolar mother, but she'd survived. He wondered if that was why she had such a hard time confiding in people now, because she'd never had anyone to confide in when she was younger.
They'd had some good times. They'd gone on dates, shared breakfasts, dinners. They'd gone to and from work together, sharing small talk and quiet jokes. And they'd made love. Usually quietly, without many words, but each and every encounter had been beautiful, powerful. It had felt right being with her that way, like it was meant to be.
But it hadn't lasted. Things had come between them, stupid, petty things made all the worse because they didn't talk to each other about things that mattered. She'd accused him of being unable to let Danjiela go. He'd thrown Carter in her face instead of accepting that he was a friend. They'd said awful things to each other, and they'd split up. Once his initial anger had dimmed, he'd been filled with desolation. He'd wanted her back, had wanted to try to find a way to make things right, but he hadn't known how, so he'd let it drop.
She was with Carter now, had been for more than a year. He'd accused her before of wanting Carter more than she wanted him, and when the pox scare had ended last year and he learned they'd gotten together, he'd been devastated. He hid it well, of course, but the pain was there, floating just below the surface. It was a slick blackness that gathered around his heart, deepening and expanding each time he saw them together.
He wanted her to be happy though, even if it was with Carter, because through all the turmoil he'd come to the conclusion he loved her. He loved her, with all of her strengths and her faults, and he thought he probably always would. So he'd wish her well, even if seeing her with Carter felt like a knife to the heart.
He wondered how they were doing now. He and Abby had only talked for a couple of minutes in the lounge the night before he left for Africa, but he'd gotten the impression things weren't going well for them. He didn't want to wish them ill; he wasn't going to let himself become that bitter. It just hurt so much to be apart from her, and to see her with Carter.
After leaving Africa he'd spent a few days in Zagreb with his father. It had been so good to see him again, he'd considered staying. But his father, with his gentle and direct way of speaking, had made him realize a few things that had plagued him the last couple of years. That Danjiela would want him to be happy. That falling in love with Abby was not a betrayal of his beloved former wife and children. That no matter how much you wanted it, some things weren't meant to be.
And also, that Chicago was now his home. Croatia was his birthplace, and he should always remember where he came from. Croatia had many beautiful things to offer, and he should visit often, but that his home was in Chicago.
Maybe that was true, he thought as the pilot came over the intercom and told them there were currently flying over New York and would be getting to Chicago in a couple hours. But Luka wasn't sure he could stay at County. It was getting too hard to see Abby with Carter every day. He loved her, and seeing her with another man was torture.
He decided finally, as the plane descended toward O'Hare, that he would begin searching for a job at another hospital. Maybe he'd look for another inner city hospital on the other side of the city. The atmosphere would be busy, drowning out the worst of his dark thoughts, and he wouldn't have to look at Abby every day and mourn what couldn't be.
He was sluggish when he got off the plane. He felt like he was coming off of a ten-day drinking binge, and he probably looked the part too. He was glad he hadn't told anyone he was coming back. It would give him a chance to rest, to get his head back on straight before he began searching for a new job. He would have to talk to Abby eventually; she deserved to hear straight from him that he was leaving. That would have to wait, though. He wanted to make sure he had somewhere to go before he told her.
He grabbed his luggage and walked a straight line out of the airport and hailed a cab. He'd left the Viper at home, not wanting to leave it in the airport parking lot when he hadn't known how long he'd be gone. So he climbed into the back seat of the cab and leaned his head back as the driver pulled away. He drifted in an out of sleep until a loud "Hey buddy!" from the cab driver shook him awake. He paid the man and dragged his luggage from the car. As the cabbie sped off into the night, Luka dug around for his keys and walked into his building. It would feel good to sleep in a real bed, he thought, instead of just a hard cot covered in mosquito netting. He figured he was too exhausted to even dream tonight. Which meant he wouldn't have to picture Abby crawling into bed next to him.
He unlocked his door and stepped inside. He didn't bother with lights as he tossed his luggage aside. A shaft of moonlight shined through his window, softly illuminating the living room.
It took him a few moments to realize there was something different about the room. There was some small detail his subconscious was trying to make him see. But he was so tired, it took several visual sweeps of the room to find it. His chair. There was a dark-colored jacket laying over the back of the chair. It hadn't been there when he'd left. He approached it cautiously, looking around for any strange shadows.
He didn't see any. He picked up the jacket and examined it. It looked vaguely familiar. He'd seen this jacket before. His heart kicked up a notch. He knew someone who had a jacket just like this one. But there was no reason for it to be in his apartment. It didn't make sense. He brought the jacket to his face and inhaled slowly. It smelled like her. It had to be hers. But what was it doing in his apartment? Was someone trying to play a sick joke on him?
He dropped the jacket back on the chair and ran his hands through his hair, over his face. It couldn't be her jacket. His neighbor must have left it, and his mind was playing tricks by making him think it was hers. That was it. Of course. He would return the jacket to his neighbor in the morning.
He headed for his bedroom, tapping his finger against the top of the fish tank as he went. As he approached his bedroom he realized his heart still hadn't slowed down. It was still going full steam ahead, and he knew he wasn't going to get much sleep after all.
He stopped in the bedroom doorway. His heart froze in his chest, then started beating again, so rapidly he was afraid it would burst. He felt dizzy suddenly and had to grab the door frame to steady himself. He blinked rapidly and shook his head to clear it. He took a couple of slow steps into the room, his eyes never leaving the bed, or its peacefully sleeping occupant.
He found himself paralyzed, staring at Abby as she dreamed.
