I felt my face getting warm, and I slowly opened my eyes. It was
morning. I must have fallen asleep. I winced as the sun streaked through
the window onto my face. My eyes wandered around the room. Today would have
been our first morning after bringing home our son.and I probably would
have stayed in his room last night anyway.watching him sleep.unable to
sleep because of the excitement of being a new mother.
I probably only got a few of hours of sleep, if that. I'm surprised I slept at all.
I slowly stood up, putting the blanket on chair that I sat in. Carter must have come in after I fell asleep and covered me up.I know I should be more open to talking with him, to listening to what he has to say, more open to what he is feeling.but I couldn't deal with him. I was having enough trouble dealing with myself.
My brain was screaming at me to get a drink.make everything go away. I could almost taste the hot liquor in my mouth, burning down my throat. With just the right amount, my body would go numb.go heavy with nothing. I could slip into a self-induced coma, slip into the darkness of nothing.but I wouldn't do that. I couldn't do that, not to Carter, not to myself. I'd been sober for almost a complete year.well, sober for my second time.
I walked out of the room, looking down the hallway. To my right was Carter and my bedroom.the door was open, but Carter wasn't inside. I wonder if he is working today. Part of me wants him to be. Then I could have the house to myself, I wouldn't have to worry about him.but then again, part of me wants him to be here, wants him to be my constant rock to lean on.
I turned to the left and walked down the stairs, looking into the living room which the stairs overlooked. Still no sign of Carter. I heard a clang of pots in the kitchen. I walked slowly toward it, stopping in the doorframe. "Hi."
My voice was thick with sleep, and probably croaky from crying so much. Carter turned to look at me and gave me that look. That look that asks the questions he knows not to ask. "Hey. Did I wake you?"
I shook my head and walked a couple of steps into the kitchen and sunk into a chair. "No, that would be the sun's job."
Carter simply nodded and turned back to the stove. "I was making breakfast in case you woke up. You want something to eat?"
I looked down at my fingers, he was already trying so hard for the normalcy that I wanted to avoid. "Do we have coffee?" "Sure."
Carter hurried to get me a cup of coffee. He was trying to do everything on his own, making breakfast.I noticed how clean the kitchen was, as was the rest of the house. More than likely he was busying himself to keep from breaking down.and I knew that it was mostly for me that he was trying so hard not to break down. And honestly, I don't know how I'd handle him breaking down and being so fragile as I felt. I knew he was crumbling inside, and I was being more open with my emotions.which was so out of character for me.
I had always been the kind of person to conceal how I feel. Keep from others pitying me, or wanting to take care of me. For years I was convinced that I could take care of myself, and my family. And I did. I was even emotionally closed off with Richard. Maybe not so much at first, but as our marriage took that jagged turn off the course to happiness, I put a few more bricks up in my wall around myself.making it higher and stronger than it had ever been.
Then along came John Truman Carter. The only man who knew me so intimately before we were well, intimate. He was the best friend I've ever had, and I think that friendship, that trust that I built in him, this reliance that was more powerful than anything I'd felt, that was what made me slowly fall in love with him. I was caught off-guard by it. He had slowly brought a chisel to my wall, and broke it down piece by piece, until it could simply be swept away.
So now that with him, I wasn't scared to show him how I felt.my weakest moments belonged to him, as well as my strongest, my happiest. To see him crumble was a rarity, and I was always there for it, ready to hold him as he did for me so many times. But if both of us were crumbling? Who would be there to pick up the pieces? I would suppose we'd have to lean on each other.but both being so unstable, we'd slip and fall.
It's like being on a speeding train. The train has lost its breaks, there is no way to stop it. Being on a train that crashes.with no one there to rescue me. "Abby?"
His soft voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked up at him, taking the cup he offered to me. "Thanks."
I gratefully took a sip of the steaming hot coffee. I could feel the hot liquid slide all the way down past my ribs. I shut my eyes, just breathing in the simplicity of black coffee. Carter sat in the chair across from me after sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of me. "You need to eat something."
I sighed a little and nodded, not in the mood to argue with him. I ate a few bites of eggs and toast, drinking more coffee. Nothing had taste. Not due to Carter's attempt at cooking, just rather I felt numb to everything. I looked up as Carter cleared his throat. "You're mom called again."
I sighed and put down my mug. Here we go. "Yea, and?" "And.she wants to come here. She's worried about you, Abby." "I'm fine."
The old answer that was supposed to push everything away, make them convinced that everything really was fine. Carter saw right through me. "Don't give me that, Abby. You're not fine.hell, I'm not fine. Your mom just wants to come here and be here for you." "I don't need her here."
Carter sighed. That sigh he always give when he is frustrated with me. "Abby, she's trying. It might be good for all of us to have her here."
I gave him a look, raising my eyebrows.
"How would it be good?" "I don't know.just to have her here. She's your mother, Abby." "I'm aware of that John." "I just think you should give her the chance to be here for you is all. She's your mom and she wants to be one to you."
I sighed and shook my head, bringing my hand to my forehead, brushing away at hair that had fallen across my face. "I don't know if I can deal with her being here."
Carter looked at me, and stood up, crouching in front of me so he was eye level.
"Abby. I'm here. I know when you get frustrated with her. It will be okay. I promise."
I sighed, tears again fighting their way to the brim of my eyes. I quickly blinked them back. "Is she on her meds?"
Carter nodded to me. I let out a shaky breath and nodded. "Fine."
I pushed myself away from the table, away from him, and walked out of the kitchen, toward the living room.
A baby cradle still stood in the corner near the big glass window overlooking the backyard. I quickly turned away, heading toward the stairs. Everywhere I was reminded of what could have been, and what I've lost.
I trudged upstairs and toward the bedroom, passing the nursery quickly. I stood in the doorway of my bedroom, my eyes scanning the room, dim with the curtains drawn over the windows. I walked to the bed, sitting on the edge before falling back in exhaustion. Maybe if I slept, I wouldn't be able to feel the pain in my heart. My heart literally hurt. Like someone had their hand gripping my heart, and squeezing it tightly, a little tighter every second.
I pulled the covers up to my chin and shivered a little.not from the cold. I shut my eyes and after a while, slipped into the darkness of sleep. -^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-
Abby walked down the hall, toward the nursery. She heard something downstairs. Her senses had sharpened somehow.maybe being a mother does that to you. She hurried downstairs and found her little boy sitting in the middle of the floor, on the new carpet, smearing paint all over the floor. "Wook mommy! I make a picture for you!" "Dylan! Honey, we don't paint on the floor."
His little lip quivered. "You don't wike da picture?"
She couldn't help but smile at the look on his face. "I love the picture sweetie. But we need to just color on paper, ok?"
He nodded a little. Abby smiled and enveloped him in a tight hug. "I love you." "Wuv you too mommy." "You hungry?"
"Yea."
Abby stood up and walked off toward the kitchen, leaving him in the middle of the mess, figuring she would clean it up later. Halfway through making a sandwich, she heard a blood-curdling scream. She dashed out to the living room. The remainders of paint brushes lay in the puddle of paint. No Dylan. "Dylan?"
Her heart beat frantically in her chest. She looked around the room. "Its not funny to hide from mommy."
She looked around the room and heard a noise out in the other room. "MOMMY!"
She snapped her head in the direction the scream came from. The scream echoed through the house. She hurried toward the front hall. "Dylan! Where are you?!"
The scream came again, louder this time. Calling for her to come and rescue him from whatever was hurting him. "Mommy!!!!! I can't breathe!!!"
Abby hysterically searched the entire house, turning over couches, opening closets, screaming for her son.
She opened the door to the spare bedroom, and what she found shocked and horrified her.
Lying on the floor was her son, writhing in pain, his heart beating so fast, that you could actually see the outline of his heart through his t- shirt. "MOMMY! HELP!" -^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-
I shot up in bed, my body shaking and covered with sweat.
"No!!"
It was dark in the room. My room. I was trembling with fear. Carter must have woken up with my scream. I must have slept clear through the day.
Disoriented, Carter shot up in bed, a scared look on his face. "Abby what's wrong?"
I was shaking, still halfway in my dream.but that's all it was, wasn't it?
"I couldn't find him! I, I didn't get to him in time, He was dying! I tried to find him, oh God, he was screaming, I couldn't save him."
I rambled on, words tumbling out of my mouth. I felt Carter's arms pulling me tightly against him as my body continued to shudder uncontrollably. "Shhh. Abby. Shhh. It was just a dream. Just a bad dream."
Hot tears sprung from my eyes and dripped down onto his chest. It was so real. I could still see the image of the little boy so clearly in my head. He looked just like Carter. Sandy blonde hair and that little grin on his face Carter so often wore. I shook my head, trying to calm my sobs, unable to do it. "Abby shhh. It's okay now. You're okay."
I took in a deep, shaky breath. I don't know if I will ever really be 'okay' ever again. -^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-
Three weeks had passed, and things had I guess, gotten a bit back to normal. My nightmares had subsided, at least a little. I was sleeping and eating more regularly, and I had stopped randomly crying throughout the days. Despite getting myself into a more regular schedule, I was still finding myself caught in a deep rut of depression. Not clinical, just something you'd expect, I suppose.
Despite my assurances that I was fine to go back to work, Carter insisted that I stay home for at least another week. I was going to go insane staying cooped up in the house, doing the most mundane things. Going to the store, making the bed, cleaning the house. I don't think I've ever had a place as clean as the house we live in now. I tried to busy myself with normal, every day things.
My mother had called at least four times in the last two days. Making sure everything was alright with her coming. I really had no choice in the matter. She'd feel 'conveniently wounded' that I didn't want to see her, then the guilt trip would start. I had enough guilt in my life already.
I feel guilty over Carter. I knew that I should be doing more for him, confiding more in him.but I just couldn't bring myself to talk openly about it yet. The wound is still too fresh. I feel guilty, because in these last few weeks.I hadn't even let him touch me. And I don't mean that I just haven't been in 'the mood' to make love.but I haven't even kissed him.or hugged him for that matter. I couldn't think or focus on being romantic, or taking care of 'us'. When he'd come home from work, he'd look at me expectantly.like he wanted a hug or kiss.and want to give me one.but I just didn't feel.right I suppose, to go right back to those feelings of being in love.and ridiculously in love as we were. And I guess I should try. I should make the effort to hug him when he comes home. Kiss him when he does something sweet for me. He has been doing little things lately. Just bringing me flowers one day, or getting dinner on the way home another, just small things that wouldn't mean so much to anyone else, but meant the world to me.and yet I didn't ever show that to him.
I looked up from where I sat in the living room. The clock read 11:15pm. Carter got off at 11:30, which meant he'd be home about fifteen minutes after that, assuming he didn't get pulled into a huge trauma. I decided it was time for me to just push past everything and be there for Carter. He'd done it every single day for me, and I'd done basically nothing but take it all. I knew I had to pull myself out of this rut I've been in. This black hole. I definitely couldn't let my mother see me like this. She'd take the opportunity to 'take care' of me, and act like a mother herself.
Sighing, I pushed myself off the couch and walked upstairs. I undressed and got into a hot shower, letting the beads of hot water fall across my back. I shut my eyes, feeling the warmth of the shower seep into my skin. After about ten minutes, I finished in the shower and quickly dried off, dressing in just the regular jeans and a red t-shirt. I checked the clock. Carter would be home in less than five minutes. I didn't really have to take a shower, but I just hated that sticky feeling of not taking a shower earlier in the day. I was going to try.Carter deserved at least that.
I walked downstairs just as the door opened. Carter walked in, looking exhausted, color drained from his face, his hair messed around. I immediately felt bad for neglecting him. I was going to be his wife, and I couldn't find the time out of my self-pity to ask him how he was.bother with how this had effected him. He took his back off of his shoulder, dumping it on the floor by the front door. The jingle of his keys was the only sound that filled the hallway as he hung them up on the hook near the door. I stood there watching him.really seeing him. How could I have not seen how much pain he is in?
He looked up and jumped back. "God, Abby you scared me."
I stepped down the stairs. "I'm sorry."
And I meant it.sorry for more than just startling him. He looked at me, that look of concern in his eyes. I didn't deserve this man. "Abby, are you okay?"
I nodded, and walked up to him, sliding my arms tightly around him, hugging myself close to him. It took him a second to register before he slid his arms tightly around me, and breathing that sigh of relief. I buried my head against his chest, breathing in his musty scent. "I'm so sorry John."
He pulled away from me a little, raising my chin so I'd look him in the face. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Abby."
I nodded, feeling tears sting my eyes. "Yes I do. I haven't been there for you. You've been there for me so much, every day, and I've done nothing in return."
Carter shook his head. "This was hard Abby.I'm sure more hard on you.you're so hard on yourself, and you can't keep thinking that this was your fault. These things happen.and I hate to say that, but all we can do is grieve. Sometimes there is nothing else to do."
I smiled through tears at him. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"
The question was rhetoric, but he must have felt the need to answer. "I should be asking you the same question."
I smiled at him and slid my arms around him tighter, hugging him again. I'd forgotten how safe and comforting being in his arms is. When he clung to me like this, his face buried against my neck, it seemed like there was nothing else in the world. I took in a deep breath, feeling a release of a weight that had been on my shoulders for so long. It's not my fault.it's really not. I guess it took Carter assuring me that it really wasn't my fault. I knew on some subconscious level that it wasn't.but making that a reality for my head and my heart was a different matter.
I know that this is going to be a really long road for the both of us. Something we'll have to take a day at a time to work past. Not get over, but move on from. Carter kissed my forehead. I bowed my head against his, bringing my hand to the side of his face. "I love you so much Abby. Don't ever doubt that, okay?"
I nodded and smiled slightly. "I won't."
I looked into his eyes for a second before kissing him. God, how did I go so long without kissing him? I smiled slightly and pulled away, wiping a tear from my cheek. "I'm sorry that I haven't."
He stopped me by putting a finger to my lips. "Don't."
I simply nodded. He smiled that little half smile that he does. He leaned his forehead against mine, sliding his palm against mine and linking his fingers through mine. I shut my eyes, rocking toward him slightly. I'd missed him. I don't think I realized how much I'd missed him over the past few weeks.
I slid my hands out of his, and slid my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, pressing my face against his shoulder. He hugged me back with such tenderness, it seemed as though he thought I'd break. I hugged him tighter, neither one of us needing to say anything.
He kissed the nape of my neck gently and pulled away. "Come on, its late, we should get to bed."
I nodded and held his hand as we walked toward the bedroom. I knew that if I asked him if he wanted to make love tonight, he would have said no, and I'm so grateful for that. He knows how much I love him, and the fact that he is willing to wait for me to be ready again, for me to be able to get past this, so we could be intimate like that again. It was just going to take some time. The fact that I knew he'd wait.wait without being annoyed meant more to me than he would ever know.
I probably only got a few of hours of sleep, if that. I'm surprised I slept at all.
I slowly stood up, putting the blanket on chair that I sat in. Carter must have come in after I fell asleep and covered me up.I know I should be more open to talking with him, to listening to what he has to say, more open to what he is feeling.but I couldn't deal with him. I was having enough trouble dealing with myself.
My brain was screaming at me to get a drink.make everything go away. I could almost taste the hot liquor in my mouth, burning down my throat. With just the right amount, my body would go numb.go heavy with nothing. I could slip into a self-induced coma, slip into the darkness of nothing.but I wouldn't do that. I couldn't do that, not to Carter, not to myself. I'd been sober for almost a complete year.well, sober for my second time.
I walked out of the room, looking down the hallway. To my right was Carter and my bedroom.the door was open, but Carter wasn't inside. I wonder if he is working today. Part of me wants him to be. Then I could have the house to myself, I wouldn't have to worry about him.but then again, part of me wants him to be here, wants him to be my constant rock to lean on.
I turned to the left and walked down the stairs, looking into the living room which the stairs overlooked. Still no sign of Carter. I heard a clang of pots in the kitchen. I walked slowly toward it, stopping in the doorframe. "Hi."
My voice was thick with sleep, and probably croaky from crying so much. Carter turned to look at me and gave me that look. That look that asks the questions he knows not to ask. "Hey. Did I wake you?"
I shook my head and walked a couple of steps into the kitchen and sunk into a chair. "No, that would be the sun's job."
Carter simply nodded and turned back to the stove. "I was making breakfast in case you woke up. You want something to eat?"
I looked down at my fingers, he was already trying so hard for the normalcy that I wanted to avoid. "Do we have coffee?" "Sure."
Carter hurried to get me a cup of coffee. He was trying to do everything on his own, making breakfast.I noticed how clean the kitchen was, as was the rest of the house. More than likely he was busying himself to keep from breaking down.and I knew that it was mostly for me that he was trying so hard not to break down. And honestly, I don't know how I'd handle him breaking down and being so fragile as I felt. I knew he was crumbling inside, and I was being more open with my emotions.which was so out of character for me.
I had always been the kind of person to conceal how I feel. Keep from others pitying me, or wanting to take care of me. For years I was convinced that I could take care of myself, and my family. And I did. I was even emotionally closed off with Richard. Maybe not so much at first, but as our marriage took that jagged turn off the course to happiness, I put a few more bricks up in my wall around myself.making it higher and stronger than it had ever been.
Then along came John Truman Carter. The only man who knew me so intimately before we were well, intimate. He was the best friend I've ever had, and I think that friendship, that trust that I built in him, this reliance that was more powerful than anything I'd felt, that was what made me slowly fall in love with him. I was caught off-guard by it. He had slowly brought a chisel to my wall, and broke it down piece by piece, until it could simply be swept away.
So now that with him, I wasn't scared to show him how I felt.my weakest moments belonged to him, as well as my strongest, my happiest. To see him crumble was a rarity, and I was always there for it, ready to hold him as he did for me so many times. But if both of us were crumbling? Who would be there to pick up the pieces? I would suppose we'd have to lean on each other.but both being so unstable, we'd slip and fall.
It's like being on a speeding train. The train has lost its breaks, there is no way to stop it. Being on a train that crashes.with no one there to rescue me. "Abby?"
His soft voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked up at him, taking the cup he offered to me. "Thanks."
I gratefully took a sip of the steaming hot coffee. I could feel the hot liquid slide all the way down past my ribs. I shut my eyes, just breathing in the simplicity of black coffee. Carter sat in the chair across from me after sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of me. "You need to eat something."
I sighed a little and nodded, not in the mood to argue with him. I ate a few bites of eggs and toast, drinking more coffee. Nothing had taste. Not due to Carter's attempt at cooking, just rather I felt numb to everything. I looked up as Carter cleared his throat. "You're mom called again."
I sighed and put down my mug. Here we go. "Yea, and?" "And.she wants to come here. She's worried about you, Abby." "I'm fine."
The old answer that was supposed to push everything away, make them convinced that everything really was fine. Carter saw right through me. "Don't give me that, Abby. You're not fine.hell, I'm not fine. Your mom just wants to come here and be here for you." "I don't need her here."
Carter sighed. That sigh he always give when he is frustrated with me. "Abby, she's trying. It might be good for all of us to have her here."
I gave him a look, raising my eyebrows.
"How would it be good?" "I don't know.just to have her here. She's your mother, Abby." "I'm aware of that John." "I just think you should give her the chance to be here for you is all. She's your mom and she wants to be one to you."
I sighed and shook my head, bringing my hand to my forehead, brushing away at hair that had fallen across my face. "I don't know if I can deal with her being here."
Carter looked at me, and stood up, crouching in front of me so he was eye level.
"Abby. I'm here. I know when you get frustrated with her. It will be okay. I promise."
I sighed, tears again fighting their way to the brim of my eyes. I quickly blinked them back. "Is she on her meds?"
Carter nodded to me. I let out a shaky breath and nodded. "Fine."
I pushed myself away from the table, away from him, and walked out of the kitchen, toward the living room.
A baby cradle still stood in the corner near the big glass window overlooking the backyard. I quickly turned away, heading toward the stairs. Everywhere I was reminded of what could have been, and what I've lost.
I trudged upstairs and toward the bedroom, passing the nursery quickly. I stood in the doorway of my bedroom, my eyes scanning the room, dim with the curtains drawn over the windows. I walked to the bed, sitting on the edge before falling back in exhaustion. Maybe if I slept, I wouldn't be able to feel the pain in my heart. My heart literally hurt. Like someone had their hand gripping my heart, and squeezing it tightly, a little tighter every second.
I pulled the covers up to my chin and shivered a little.not from the cold. I shut my eyes and after a while, slipped into the darkness of sleep. -^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-
Abby walked down the hall, toward the nursery. She heard something downstairs. Her senses had sharpened somehow.maybe being a mother does that to you. She hurried downstairs and found her little boy sitting in the middle of the floor, on the new carpet, smearing paint all over the floor. "Wook mommy! I make a picture for you!" "Dylan! Honey, we don't paint on the floor."
His little lip quivered. "You don't wike da picture?"
She couldn't help but smile at the look on his face. "I love the picture sweetie. But we need to just color on paper, ok?"
He nodded a little. Abby smiled and enveloped him in a tight hug. "I love you." "Wuv you too mommy." "You hungry?"
"Yea."
Abby stood up and walked off toward the kitchen, leaving him in the middle of the mess, figuring she would clean it up later. Halfway through making a sandwich, she heard a blood-curdling scream. She dashed out to the living room. The remainders of paint brushes lay in the puddle of paint. No Dylan. "Dylan?"
Her heart beat frantically in her chest. She looked around the room. "Its not funny to hide from mommy."
She looked around the room and heard a noise out in the other room. "MOMMY!"
She snapped her head in the direction the scream came from. The scream echoed through the house. She hurried toward the front hall. "Dylan! Where are you?!"
The scream came again, louder this time. Calling for her to come and rescue him from whatever was hurting him. "Mommy!!!!! I can't breathe!!!"
Abby hysterically searched the entire house, turning over couches, opening closets, screaming for her son.
She opened the door to the spare bedroom, and what she found shocked and horrified her.
Lying on the floor was her son, writhing in pain, his heart beating so fast, that you could actually see the outline of his heart through his t- shirt. "MOMMY! HELP!" -^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-
I shot up in bed, my body shaking and covered with sweat.
"No!!"
It was dark in the room. My room. I was trembling with fear. Carter must have woken up with my scream. I must have slept clear through the day.
Disoriented, Carter shot up in bed, a scared look on his face. "Abby what's wrong?"
I was shaking, still halfway in my dream.but that's all it was, wasn't it?
"I couldn't find him! I, I didn't get to him in time, He was dying! I tried to find him, oh God, he was screaming, I couldn't save him."
I rambled on, words tumbling out of my mouth. I felt Carter's arms pulling me tightly against him as my body continued to shudder uncontrollably. "Shhh. Abby. Shhh. It was just a dream. Just a bad dream."
Hot tears sprung from my eyes and dripped down onto his chest. It was so real. I could still see the image of the little boy so clearly in my head. He looked just like Carter. Sandy blonde hair and that little grin on his face Carter so often wore. I shook my head, trying to calm my sobs, unable to do it. "Abby shhh. It's okay now. You're okay."
I took in a deep, shaky breath. I don't know if I will ever really be 'okay' ever again. -^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-
Three weeks had passed, and things had I guess, gotten a bit back to normal. My nightmares had subsided, at least a little. I was sleeping and eating more regularly, and I had stopped randomly crying throughout the days. Despite getting myself into a more regular schedule, I was still finding myself caught in a deep rut of depression. Not clinical, just something you'd expect, I suppose.
Despite my assurances that I was fine to go back to work, Carter insisted that I stay home for at least another week. I was going to go insane staying cooped up in the house, doing the most mundane things. Going to the store, making the bed, cleaning the house. I don't think I've ever had a place as clean as the house we live in now. I tried to busy myself with normal, every day things.
My mother had called at least four times in the last two days. Making sure everything was alright with her coming. I really had no choice in the matter. She'd feel 'conveniently wounded' that I didn't want to see her, then the guilt trip would start. I had enough guilt in my life already.
I feel guilty over Carter. I knew that I should be doing more for him, confiding more in him.but I just couldn't bring myself to talk openly about it yet. The wound is still too fresh. I feel guilty, because in these last few weeks.I hadn't even let him touch me. And I don't mean that I just haven't been in 'the mood' to make love.but I haven't even kissed him.or hugged him for that matter. I couldn't think or focus on being romantic, or taking care of 'us'. When he'd come home from work, he'd look at me expectantly.like he wanted a hug or kiss.and want to give me one.but I just didn't feel.right I suppose, to go right back to those feelings of being in love.and ridiculously in love as we were. And I guess I should try. I should make the effort to hug him when he comes home. Kiss him when he does something sweet for me. He has been doing little things lately. Just bringing me flowers one day, or getting dinner on the way home another, just small things that wouldn't mean so much to anyone else, but meant the world to me.and yet I didn't ever show that to him.
I looked up from where I sat in the living room. The clock read 11:15pm. Carter got off at 11:30, which meant he'd be home about fifteen minutes after that, assuming he didn't get pulled into a huge trauma. I decided it was time for me to just push past everything and be there for Carter. He'd done it every single day for me, and I'd done basically nothing but take it all. I knew I had to pull myself out of this rut I've been in. This black hole. I definitely couldn't let my mother see me like this. She'd take the opportunity to 'take care' of me, and act like a mother herself.
Sighing, I pushed myself off the couch and walked upstairs. I undressed and got into a hot shower, letting the beads of hot water fall across my back. I shut my eyes, feeling the warmth of the shower seep into my skin. After about ten minutes, I finished in the shower and quickly dried off, dressing in just the regular jeans and a red t-shirt. I checked the clock. Carter would be home in less than five minutes. I didn't really have to take a shower, but I just hated that sticky feeling of not taking a shower earlier in the day. I was going to try.Carter deserved at least that.
I walked downstairs just as the door opened. Carter walked in, looking exhausted, color drained from his face, his hair messed around. I immediately felt bad for neglecting him. I was going to be his wife, and I couldn't find the time out of my self-pity to ask him how he was.bother with how this had effected him. He took his back off of his shoulder, dumping it on the floor by the front door. The jingle of his keys was the only sound that filled the hallway as he hung them up on the hook near the door. I stood there watching him.really seeing him. How could I have not seen how much pain he is in?
He looked up and jumped back. "God, Abby you scared me."
I stepped down the stairs. "I'm sorry."
And I meant it.sorry for more than just startling him. He looked at me, that look of concern in his eyes. I didn't deserve this man. "Abby, are you okay?"
I nodded, and walked up to him, sliding my arms tightly around him, hugging myself close to him. It took him a second to register before he slid his arms tightly around me, and breathing that sigh of relief. I buried my head against his chest, breathing in his musty scent. "I'm so sorry John."
He pulled away from me a little, raising my chin so I'd look him in the face. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Abby."
I nodded, feeling tears sting my eyes. "Yes I do. I haven't been there for you. You've been there for me so much, every day, and I've done nothing in return."
Carter shook his head. "This was hard Abby.I'm sure more hard on you.you're so hard on yourself, and you can't keep thinking that this was your fault. These things happen.and I hate to say that, but all we can do is grieve. Sometimes there is nothing else to do."
I smiled through tears at him. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"
The question was rhetoric, but he must have felt the need to answer. "I should be asking you the same question."
I smiled at him and slid my arms around him tighter, hugging him again. I'd forgotten how safe and comforting being in his arms is. When he clung to me like this, his face buried against my neck, it seemed like there was nothing else in the world. I took in a deep breath, feeling a release of a weight that had been on my shoulders for so long. It's not my fault.it's really not. I guess it took Carter assuring me that it really wasn't my fault. I knew on some subconscious level that it wasn't.but making that a reality for my head and my heart was a different matter.
I know that this is going to be a really long road for the both of us. Something we'll have to take a day at a time to work past. Not get over, but move on from. Carter kissed my forehead. I bowed my head against his, bringing my hand to the side of his face. "I love you so much Abby. Don't ever doubt that, okay?"
I nodded and smiled slightly. "I won't."
I looked into his eyes for a second before kissing him. God, how did I go so long without kissing him? I smiled slightly and pulled away, wiping a tear from my cheek. "I'm sorry that I haven't."
He stopped me by putting a finger to my lips. "Don't."
I simply nodded. He smiled that little half smile that he does. He leaned his forehead against mine, sliding his palm against mine and linking his fingers through mine. I shut my eyes, rocking toward him slightly. I'd missed him. I don't think I realized how much I'd missed him over the past few weeks.
I slid my hands out of his, and slid my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, pressing my face against his shoulder. He hugged me back with such tenderness, it seemed as though he thought I'd break. I hugged him tighter, neither one of us needing to say anything.
He kissed the nape of my neck gently and pulled away. "Come on, its late, we should get to bed."
I nodded and held his hand as we walked toward the bedroom. I knew that if I asked him if he wanted to make love tonight, he would have said no, and I'm so grateful for that. He knows how much I love him, and the fact that he is willing to wait for me to be ready again, for me to be able to get past this, so we could be intimate like that again. It was just going to take some time. The fact that I knew he'd wait.wait without being annoyed meant more to me than he would ever know.