Title: Every Girl's Dream

Disclaimer: I don't own Abby, Carter or even the premise to ER. Those all belong to the creators and producers of the show, and the folks at Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement is ever intended.

Spoilers for "A Thousand Cranes"

AN: I take complete responsibility for the… tardiness of this next installment in the crossover series. For all intents and purposes… IAS was done earlier this week, and she was waiting for me to catch up. There's no excuse other than I've been uber-busy with real-life. The nerve. And I guess I sort of took advantage of the break to get myself caught up… And fell further behind in the process.

This is the fourth in a series of crossover post-eps with KenzieGal's (a/k/a Its_Always_Something) "The Long Way" series, which will continue throughout the remainder of the season. Look for her to pick up the story thread in "Things Her Mother Told me," her current post-ep (Chapter 9) to "A Thousand Cranes." As mentioned previously, while the two post-eps are meant to be read in tandem and there is a common thread interwoven through our chapters, our work remains faithful to Carter's (hers) and Abby's (mine) points of view. Her chapters won't exactly parallel mine and vice versa.

The Serenity Prayer is not mine. And since I don't exactly know who wrote it, I'm using it without permission.

Thanks to Starsy and Kate and all the others at the Carby board that are always kind enough to remind me that I've still got a series that needs updating. To my favourite Luby for being so tough when TPTB went and broke her heart. Chin up, hon. And to my students who are making my time in the classroom such an exciting and rewarding experience. You don't know who you are, but I do. Now go do your homework. ;o)

Oh, and… Peace.

So this is what it feels like. To lose everything you never knew you always wanted.

Though, it's not like I had it in the first place. And what was there to have, really? It was just a declaration on a rooftop. An empty restaurant. It was just… John Carter… John Carter with a ring.

And a missed opportunity.

He didn't mean it.

The persistent whistle of the teakettle snaps me back to the present once again. I should probably remove it from the stove before the neighbors begin to complain of the noise.

I hang the suit jacket and tie over the back of the sofa and head back into the kitchen, grabbing the kettle and pulling out two mugs from the cupboard.

I fumble with the box of tea bags.

No, Abby. The spoons have always been in the other drawer.

I yelp a little as I reach for the kettle once more, missing the handle. I sigh heavily and turn on the faucet, thrusting my hand under the cold water to relieve some of the pain. I roll my eyes as I glance over my shoulder towards the bedroom, half expecting him to come out – that concerned, loving look etched across his face.

Instead, nothing.

I dry my hand on the dishtowel and resume my task with a little more deliberate concentration.

I take a deep breath as I hear him emerge from the bedroom, turning my head slightly in his direction.

"Feeling any better?" I ask as I try to focus on the job of pouring the steaming water into two mugs.

It's a welcome distraction. Something to keep me busy. Something to keep me from facing him.

Something to keep me from giving myself away.

"A little. Showers have a way of working wonders. Though it looks like the chocolate soufflé did me in."

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as he stops inside the doorway, a towel hanging around his neck. I recognize the blue scrub pants he's wearing. They've been lying at the bottom of my closet for ages. For a second I wonder why he chose to wear them tonight, when he's got more than a few pairs of pajamas sitting clean in the dresser drawers.

His dresser drawers.

I turn around and stare at him for a few seconds.

Tell him you found the ring.

Why didn't you ask me, John?

I shake my head and hand him his mug.

"Here. Maybe this'll help."

He takes it with a small smile of thanks, and glances at the sofa where his jacket and tie lay. My eyes follow his, and I bite my lip in disappointment.

What was once intended… is no longer.

I tear my eyes away from the other room when I feel his gaze fall to rest on me. I look up briefly and make to move around him.

I begin to leave the kitchen. "I think I'm going to change now."

But he's faster, catching me by the shoulder.

"Hey."

He wraps an arm around me, pulling me closer. My lowered head falls in place just below his chin. I close my eyes, trying to think of something other than the beating of his heart or his slow, steady breathing that duets in harmony with my own.

We fit just perfectly like this.

Still, I pull away mumbling, "It's been a long day," before I retreat cowardly into the bedroom.

Yeah, that's right, Abby. Run away.

I close door behind me and lean back, resting my head against it. I look up the ceiling, searching for some divine strength. I sigh and shut my eyes for a moment.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change…

I push myself away from the door and begin to unbutton my blouse as I try to recall the rest of the words to the prayer I'd learned years ago. My mother had taught it to me then, and it was something my mind would wander back to when things were at their worst... as they usually were.

The prayer revisited me again in AA, when I was handed a card one night at a meeting. It played a big role in the program. After that, the idea just kind of stuck with me. Like an old church song… You might forget the words, but the melody always brings you back.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change…

The things I cannot change.

I don't know if people ever really change.

I quickly remove my clothes and throw on my nightshirt as I head into the bathroom. I yank on the taps in the sink and reach for the face cloth. The room is thick with the humid air of his shower earlier. The scent of him still lingers in the air.

I glance at myself in the mirror before I bring the washcloth to my face. The picture of an evening of expectation… I shake my head and begin to scrub my makeup off.

I knew what he was up to. Deep down inside… I knew what this whole night was about. From the look he gave me in the ER when he asked me out for "sushi", to his insistence that I wait outside for him… Even his speech that was intended to prelude his proposal. I knew he would ask me to marry him tonight.

The question is, why didn't he?

I look at my wet, dripping face in the mirror.

It's easy, Abby. He obviously changed his mind.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things…

He'd finally heeded to my warnings. Run away, Carter. Run away as fast as you can.

I nailed it tonight. The clincher. The last straw.

I don't know if people ever really change.

The one that did us in. Congratulations.

I might be blind sometimes… I might be jaded at other times. But I'm not completely clueless. I saw the way he reacted. His facial expression… His body language. A complete one-eighty. And yet… I couldn't bring myself to fix it.

And now it's too late.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change…

I'm an alcoholic. There won't ever be a time when I won't be an alcoholic. It's a part of me, my past, my present, and my future. I can't erase that.

And I can't change my lineage. My mother, my brother. It's not something I can turn my back on… They need me. I have to learn how to deal with the disease. I have learned how to deal.

My life is on hold. You don't want to be on hold.

I rinse myself off and wipe my face dry with the hand towel. I take another look at myself in the mirror and bring a hand up to unclip my hair. I let it fall down across my shoulders and run my fingers through it a few times. I stare at my reflection again, as the words finally come flooding back.

… The courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

I screw my face up as I reach for my toothbrush and begin to brush my teeth.

I told myself that he didn't mean it. I talked myself into believing that the declaration on the roof was nothing but a moment of weakness, that he'd soon come to realize that it was a mistake. That he didn't want to marry me. Even as we were sitting in the restaurant tonight, I begged my heart not to expect too much. And when it didn't come, I felt even a little justified.

It was much easier to discount if it was just an ideal image. A snapshot of how things might be.

But when I saw the ring, the situation became a whole lot more real than I was comfortable with. I couldn't ignore it any longer.

And I began to want it.

That proposal.

Every girl's dream.

I finish up in the bathroom and turn off the light as I head back into the bedroom. I turn on the light beside the bed and reach to turn back the covers when I realize that Carter has already done so. I frown. Has he ever done that, before?

I shake my head and exit the bedroom.

I find him resting on the sofa, one arm bent behind his head, the hand of the other splayed across his stomach. I smile at the peaceful image set before me… The picture of a man I'd come to know, care and love. My face falls as I catch sight of his suit jacket lying beside him… and the dashed dreams that sit inside its pocket. I take a deep breath and creep further into the room. My eyes never leave his form.

Did I break your heart, John Carter?

I sit down next to him and wage a silent debate about waking him. Part of me wants to shake him and tell him I know… Apologize for the wrongs I have committed… Promise to make it up to him. If only so he'll stay. Beside me. Forever.

And yet, another part of me wants him to sleep, if only because it means that we don't have to talk about this… If only because it means we're in separate worlds, even for just a little while. Haven't you done enough, Abby? Tomorrow will come soon. Keep your confessions to yourself. He doesn't need to be burdened by you anymore.

After all, it's not like he's yours for keeps.

If he was, you wouldn't be sitting here, wondering where it all went wrong. You'd be in his arms. You'd be wearing his ring.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Can I change what happened tonight?

I bite my lip, take a deep breath and gather what little composure I have.

God, grant me the courage…

His eyes open as soon as I speak.

"When I got the call from the ER this morning, about the shooting at Doc Magoo's, Maggie and I were sitting at the kitchen table, eating breakfast. And all I could do was ask whether anyone was in there. Anyone from the ER. Anyone who might have been you."

His smile is masked by enervation and despair. "Chen and Luka were pretty spooked by it all."

I stare at him for a moment, wide-eyed, before looking at my hands. I shrug weakly. "At least one of them survived."

He sits up, wincing as he does so. "Maggie get home OK?"

I frown and look up at him in confusion. I'm thrown by his sudden want to change the subject. His urge to detach himself from the conversation… To avoid what's really on his mind. That's not like him.

It's more like me.

Should I push it?

I give in to him, shaking my head. "No, her bus pulled off the highway somewhere near Tomah, Wisconsin in the middle of a snow storm."

"How'd she sound?"

I look away briefly, towards the kitchen. "Holding up as best she can. Still worried about where Eric might be."

I allow my gaze to fall on him once more, as he watches me with drowsy interest. I smile with awkward amusement and sigh.

"She's finding it hard living on the outside of the disease. She never thought things looked so much differently from the inside."

He tips his head to the side and looks at something above my head. "Maybe now that she's back on her meds, she'll get over fear of flying."

I roll my eyes. "She asked me to thank you again for the ride."

He rubs his chin with one hand and settles back into the cushions with a shrug. "It was no problem."

"How long were you two stuck in traffic?"

"About an hour."

I raise my eyebrows. An hour? "Wow. What'd you guys talk about?"

His expression changes once more as he seemingly searches for a proper answer.

"Everything and nothing. Mostly we just listened to The Pixies."

He winces again before rising off the couch, his left hand making soothing movements across his abdomen.

"Listen, I'm still feeling kind of crappy. I think I'm going to turn in."

I watch him head towards the bedroom, stopping a few feet from the door.

"You coming?" He asks, turning back to me.

I shake my head and try to cover up the disappointment that threatens in my voice. "I think I'm going to stay up for awhile. You look like you could use the sleep."

I close my eyes as he backtracks, leaning over and giving me a quick kiss. I listen to his footsteps as they retreat, the sound of the bedroom door being partially closed behind him.

No.

This isn't how this night was supposed to end, and we both know it.

I open my eyes and look around the empty room.

You blew it.

I rise from my spot on the couch, picking up his empty mug off the coffee table. In the kitchen, I pick up my own untouched tea and empty it down the drain. I rinse both cups and place them in the sink. Turning around, I glance around the room a few times, trying to find something to keep myself occupied until I know it will be safe to go into the bedroom.

I need to give him that distance, right now. The tables have turned, and it's my turn to be patient.

And so I'll wait.

Luckily, I know just the thing that will help me while away the minutes until I too can retire.

I wander back into the front room and over to the door where I put down my bag after work. I reach inside the pocket and pull out that spiral bound notebook that I've kept close over the last several days. I take it back into the kitchen with me and sit down at the table, opening the pages to where Carter has outlined the second prompt for me to respond to…

Pivotal Moment #2: Our First Hot Fudge Sundaes at Doc Magoo's.

I smile at the memory of that night, still so vivid in my mind. As all the other memories I've had with him since then… I realize I can recall them with such clarity and detail… It was as if no time had passed in between. I wonder if tonight will be the same… Will I be able to reach back into the recesses of my mind years from now and remember what happened on a night that had the potential to change our lives forever? And if I do, will I recall it fondly, or with an air of sadness for moments gone but not forgotten?

Only time will tell, I suppose.

February 19th, 2003

Two years ago you came to me with a question. A request. You were just embarking on the most arduous journey a single person would ever face… And you were alone. And so you sought me out, much like you had that fateful Valentine's night.

I was surprised when I saw you at the meeting that morning. I didn't know you were back in Chicago. Maybe I hadn't heard it through the grapevine. Maybe I had been clued in, but was too distracted to register the news. I'd been working through my own trials, trying to figure out how to move on after the rug had been pulled out from underneath me. Either way… I wasn't expecting it.

Nor was I expecting what came later that day.

It had been a particularly heartbreaking shift. Comforting those parents, caring for their premature baby… So much sadness from one little life… So much hope, too.

A life cut short. A mother and her baby… It's tragedy in its cruelest form.

And while I tried to be there for them… I couldn't help but think about you, too. And what you were doing. How you were doing. And how I would handle, seeing you again, after our last encounter three months before. Would you hate me? Would I ever be able to look at you the same way?

And what would you think of me, after our eyes met earlier in the day?

Thinking back now, I was wrong to doubt your reaction. Your response. You'd never judge me. Thinking back… I think our alliance began long before that conversation at Doc Magoo's.

It began in that trauma room, three months earlier. The day you say I saved your life.

But that night, as we sipped our coffee and shared a cigarette, you asked me to be your sponsor. Your sustainer. The support for you during your recovery. It was an honest question… A genuine request. You needed me.

You were committed to your recovery, and you wanted me to be a part of it.

At first, I didn't know what to say. Here I was, barely holding my own life together, and you were asking me to play a special role in your life. I was touched… And scared. I had no idea whether I'd be able to keep you on the path to your own recovery… When I was fighting off cravings of my own each and every night. But you had faith in me as your sponsor, just as I had faith that you, too, would beat your own addiction and come out a stronger person.

And so, I agreed. I accepted the invitation. If only for a limited time. Just until you found someone else to help you find your ground…

… How's that search going, by the way?

That night, we indulged. We sealed our commitment to your recovery over hot fudge sundaes. And, to be honest… I don't think they've ever tasted the same way for me, since. In fact, I've always had a soft spot for that place since that night.

It sits nestled in the heart I hold for you.

Today, when I got the call about the shooting a Doc's, I got scared.

No.

Not our place.

Not you.

Thankfully, my fears were laid to rest shortly after. You were safe.

And even though others were not… The relief came with the idea that you would be waiting for me when I got to work. Everything would be okay. We would go on.

We would go to dinner, and…I would sit across from you once more… And you would ask me another question. You had another role for me to play in your life… An even bigger commitment for me to make. And though I know it broke your heart not to do it… I'm beginning to think that, deep down, you know it's for the best. And you'll move on…

It's not that I don't think we can change who we are, John…

… It just that, sometimes who we are… Is who we are.

And we need to accept that.

I discovered something tonight. And I'm not sure how to deal with it. It was easy before, for me to push away that desire… To think I was just playing up my fantasies. To tell myself that you didn't mean it. But I know otherwise now…

And it hurts to know that your plans didn't go as you wanted, because of me.

I stop and reread the last lines of my writing. There's more I want to say… But I can't bring myself to continue. This pain in my heart is threatening to break me. So I close the book and set it aside for another time. I rise from my spot at the table, turning out the light in the kitchen, and tiptoe into the bedroom.

His sleeping form stretches across the bed, and I pull back the covers and sit down next to him. Laying on his back, one arm draped across his torso, the other flopped to the side, crossing my side of the bed. If I knew better, I would smile at the thought of him lying in wait for me in his dreams… Inviting me to crawl into his embrace.

Still, not wanting to disturb him, while at the same time longing to be close to him, I lie on my side next to him, resting my head on his chest in the usual fashion. Instinctively, he responds to my presence, his arm snaking around my waist, pulling me closer to him in his sleep. I bite back a tiny sob and reach up, kissing his cheek quietly before laying my head back down. I close my eyes and will myself into instant slumber.

Cherish these moments while you have them, Abby. Who knows how many you have left with him.

***

"Are you going to tell me what this is about?"

Carter smiles shyly, looking at his hands. "We both just deserve a break, especially after a day like today."

I look down at my hand drawing small patterns on the tablecloth. "Hmmm. More like a month." I glance around the empty restaurant for a moment, my gaze finally coming to rest on him. I smile knowingly. "But what's it really all about?"

I look at him expectantly, watching as he takes a deep breath, leaning back in his chair.

"So you think this is a keeper?"

I raise my eyebrows. "The restaurant?"

"Us. You and me."

Across the room, a violinist begins his serenade.

I frown a little. "Are you okay?" I ask, bringing my hands up underneath my chin.

He sits up again, leaning forward on the table.

"I've…uh…spent a long time looking for a relationship that I thought would stick."

I stare at him intently, waiting for him to continue.

"Sometimes it was the wrong person. Sometimes I guess I wasn't ready. Or…uh…in the right place." He waves his hand and glances downwards, as if he's brushing the notion aside. "I think I am now." His eyes travel upwards, a tentativeness flickering across his face. "I really think I am now. Are you?"

I watch him for a moment as his questions registers with my brain. I smile nervously, glancing away. "John… I -"

"Because I really want this to stick."

I nod and smile warmly. "Me too."

My answer is sincere and obviously the one he was hoping for, I surmise, as a look of relief washes over his face.

"I know that…uh…" He relaxes in his chair, and I notice his hand slip slowly below the surface of the table.

"… We've had a rough time and there's still a lot of stuff we have to get through. But we're doing okay. I think we're…"

He lets out a low, short chuckle.

"…growing…we're changing."

His eyes find mine once more, as his face begs the question before his lips even try.

"Do you?"

I gaze at him for a few moments until I can't stand the intensity. I dip my head, pressing my hands on the tabletop.

"John… I…"

He sighs heavily, prompting me to look up. He looks at me expectantly, urging me to continue.

"I'm… I'm not sure if people are capable of changing."

His expression falls. "You're not."

I purse my lips together and shake my head. "I know that wasn't the answer you were looking for."

He takes a deep breath to calm himself, letting it out slowly. He stares at me, his eyes glazed with disappointment.

I close my own eyes. If this is the end, I can't bear to watch.

"But, um… I believe that…" I inhale, gathering my strength and will myself to look at him again. I smile weakly. "We certainly haven't done this by the book, have we?"

He frowns.

I lick my lips and shake my head, spreading my hands out on the table. "I mean, if there are exceptions to every rule… We'd fit that… Wouldn't we?"

"Abby…"

"We're not in the same place we were two years ago… Two months ago." I laugh and tap the table with my fingers. "We're not in the same place we were two weeks ago." I add quietly, glancing up at him.

He considers my comment, swallowing slowly. "No, I guess we're not."

"And, um… Even though I don't know… Where we'll be two weeks from now… I just wanted to tell you… That I'm not scared. I'm not scared anymore."

I tuck a hand underneath my chin and gaze across the table. "Because it's us. And that's not something I should be scared of."

As I finish, I take a moment to study his expression. It's indecipherable. Is he angry? Touched? Will he leave me tonight, in the morning… Or never? The ball is in your court, John. Will we make it?

I bite my lip nervously. "Say something."

He gazes me for a second longer before his eyes drift downwards. I watch as he looks at something in his lap and then sits up, pulling his hand out from underneath the table. He clears his throat.

"I had big plans for tonight."

I know.

I smile at him, my eyes never leaving his face. "Really."

He glances up at me. "Yeah."

I raise my eyebrows and tip my head slightly. "Have they changed?"

He takes another deep breath and looks down at the table. My eyes follow his, coming to rest on a small blue box sitting between his hands. My heart skips a beat.

"John…"

"No… They haven't."

I manage to tear my eyes away from the box as Carter picks it up and gets out of his chair. He approaches my side and kneels down on one knee. I shift in my chair for a better view, a smile beginning to form across my lips.

It's the moment we've both been waiting for.

Every girl's dream.

Is it his dream too?

"Abby…" He pauses and sighs. "Abby, I've struggled with how I was going to do this for a while now… I wanted it to be perfect. And up on the roof… The other night… That wasn't how it was supposed to happen." He stops and looks down at his hands. "I'm sorry."

I take my cue, raising a hand and stroking his cheek softly. "Sorry for what?"

He looks up, his eyes wide with emotion. "For not doing this properly the first time."

"John…"

"Abby, you've been the biggest part of my life for three years. You saved me, and you showed me that life is really worth living, as long as I'm living it with you…"

He stops and looks at the box. Then, taking my hands in his, he places it in my palm.

"Open it." He urges.

I comply, unsnapping the clasp and lifting the lid to reveal a sparkling oval diamond atop a delicate platinum band set with smaller diamonds.

My breath catches in my throat as I gaze down at the ring. I barely notice the tears that spring to my eyes until one spills over, down my cheek.

I stare at the resplendent cherub in my hands. Words cannot describe its beauty… It's just… perfect.

He voice draws my back to my surroundings.

"Abby… I don't know what the future has in store for us. I don't know what is waiting for us just around that next corner. All I know is that… I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to hold you, make love to you. Forever."

I smile through my tears as a familiar phrase comes to the surface.

"Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be."

His eyes connect with mine. It's the first time either one of us has even mentioned our unspoken bond with the written word. He beams and takes the box from my hands, pulling the ring out.

Another pivotal moment is before us.

Taking my left hand in his, he hovers the ring in front of my fourth finger, pausing long enough to look up at me.

"Abby… Will you marry me?"

I sigh and blink once, allowing another tear to slide down the side of my face. I gaze down at the man kneeling before me. John Carter. The man I love more than I knew I could love.

"Yes."

His eyes grow wide with excitement. "Yes?"

"Yes," I repeat, nodding my head for emphasis. I smile. "I want to marry you, too."

His grin grows fourfold as he slips the ring up my finger to its final resting spot. Leaning over, he kisses it softly before he rises to his feet, pulling me up with him.

I wrap my arms around his neck and gaze into his eyes. "It's beautiful."

He tips his head forward, brushing away a stray tear on my cheek. "You're beautiful."

"I love you, John."

"I love you. Will you marry me?" He asks again, an exuberant sparkle in his eyes.

I pull his head down towards mine, stopping just as our lips are about to touch. "Yes." I whisper, before he takes my lips with his in a soft, romantic kiss.

"Yes, John. I will marry you."

***

My eyelids flutter open as I shift my weight under the covers. I blink a few times, my eyes adjusting to the dim light in the bedroom. I roll my head to the left, looking at the clock. 6:12 A.M. Great. I have to be up in less than twenty minutes. I groan and rub my hand across my face. Pulling back, I examine it through narrowed eyes. My heart sinks.

I should have known it was only a dream.

Fairytales endings are reserved only for princesses.

And I'm hardly royalty.

I close my eyes again and roll onto my side. If I didn't have a shift, I'd be content to sleep the rest of the day away. I unconsciously reach out across the mattress beside me, expecting him to be there. My search comes up empty, and I venture a peek.

Terrific.

Sighing, I sit up and pull the covers away from around my body. I stand and look around the bedroom for any signs of his presence in the apartment. Instead I fear the opposite as I spot the blue scrub pants hanging over the edge of the laundry hamper.

I'm alone.

The lights in the other room are off. His bag is missing from its usual spot next to the door. Even his jacket and tie are gone from the sofa. The coffeemaker is empty.

If it wasn't for the two mugs sitting in the kitchen sink, I'd be tempted to wager that last night was all a part of some sick fantasy of mine.

Wouldn't be the first time my mind played its cruel tricks on my heart. And it likely won't be the last.

I pad around the kitchen, making coffee and searching the fridge for something safe to eat, even though I'm not very hungry. It's only when I sit down at the kitchen table that I spot the note, sitting there, right in front of me. I slide it over and read it quietly.

Abby –

I forgot I promised Gamma I'd have breakfast with her. Didn't want to wake you, so I went to shower and change at my place. I'll see you at work.

-- John

I graze a finger over his handwriting as I bite my lip sadly. Something had gone horribly wrong last night, and I'm not sure there is anything I can do to fix the mess I made. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to push aside all the painful consequences that insist on weaving their way through my head. When I open them a minute later, I see my journal sitting across from me, next to where the note had been.

Did he see the notebook?

It doesn't matter, I realize as I reach across the table and pick up the journal, turning it over in my hands. It's all for him. I open to last night's entry, going over my words.

It's not that I don't think we can change who we are, John…

… It just that, sometimes who we are… Is who we are.

And we need to accept that.

I look up into the growing dawn of the morning and swallow slowly.

Something about those words running through my head last night… Seem appropriate for this entry.

I get up from the table and creep into the living room. Over to the bookshelves, I scan the titles for a few moments before my eyes land on a particular one. I flip it open and sure enough, tucked inside the book jacket is a small business card. I retrieve it and take it with me back to the kitchen, sitting in front of the journal once more. I set the card down beside me and pick up my pen, turning a page and writing…

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change…

The courage to change the things I can…

And the wisdom to know the difference…

Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as the pathway to peace.
Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it.
Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His will.
That I may be reasonably happy in this life,
And supremely happy with Him forever in the next.


Amen.

I pause briefly at the end, unsure about my ending. I consider adding an explanation about the prayer, but decide against it. If I know John Carter… He already knows. Still, the entry seems somehow incomplete. Like there's more to be said.

So much more.

Don't go.

I love you.

I'm sorry.

I sigh and put my pen down, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. I'm startled a moment later by a thud outside my door… The sound of a the newspaper being dropped off. Slowly, I rise to my feet and unlock the door, picking the paper off the hallway floor. I close the door and pad my way back into the kitchen, laying the paper on the table before I turn and pour myself a cup of coffee. When I turn back around, I glance down at the front page and find the headline staring back up at me.

FATAL SHOOTING AT HOSPITAL DINER

I close my eyes again as the memory of yesterday's phone call - and the immediate panic that I felt - returns to me. I shake my head to get rid of the image, tossing the paper onto the chair beside me and looking down at the notebook that sits open in front of me.

Suddenly it hits me. I pick up the pen.

I never intended to break your heart, John… But maybe it's better that we found out now, before the fall becomes too hard to survive.

I only hope that, one day, you'll get to ask that question again.

And maybe I'll be lucky enough to be the one you ask.

Until then I'll tuck away my answer and dream of the day when I can voice it.

Yes, John. I will marry you.

***