Carter still slumbered peacefully on the couch an hour later, now
covered by a blanket that Abby had very carefully placed over him. She had
to get ready for work, her shift was starting in less than two hours, but
the situation was so incredibly awkward, she didn't know what to do. If he
woke up anytime between now and the time she left, they wouldn't have time
to really talk, and things, as usual, would be left incomplete. If he
slept until after she left, who knows when they would next get an
opportunity to connect?
He obviously wanted to talk, right? He hadn't come here, in the middle of the night, directly after returning from the Congo, to just fall asleep on her couch...? But in the past two months or so, Abby had had no luck in reading Carter's thoughts. In particular, since Gamma died, he'd put up a wall that Abby could not see around. She knew that she'd hurt him, she knew that she had made a difficult choice that he could not understand, but what else could she have done?
And yet...There had been problems before the funeral. Who knows when exactly they started? Was it the night Carter came home to find her drunk after finding out Eric was missing? Or was it later, when Carter didn't propose, because something...just wasn't right? Whenever it was, their grip on whatever they had been growing for two years had slowly and imperceptibly lessened until now, here they were, without a clue as to how to fix it.
Abby slipped into the steaming shower, trying to simultaneously get ready for work and clear her head. She wanted so badly to just hide from Carter indefinitely. She wasn't equipped to deal with these things; she was so used to not expressing her true emotions. But Carter always seemed to know, anyway. Always had a way of doing or saying just the right thing to make her better. At least, he used to.
That night, when she had found that ring, something in her broke. She had hoped so much that this time, this relationship, this man...but again, it had fallen apart. Maybe not completely, maybe not in a final way, but to Abby, all she needed was to know that he had changed his mind. That, given the chance to think about it, he had decided that spending his life with her wasn't enough. And that was fine because she was used to it, she was used to the let down, and frankly it was too hard trying not to disappoint him. It was inevitable, it continually happened, and this way must just be better.
And yet...and yet. There it was. She loved him; she knew it, she hoped he knew it, and God knows she couldn't stop it. She wanted to, she wanted so badly to stop it, because this is where loving him landed her. Why was it always so complicated? Whatever happened to their afternoon delight? How could they so quickly go from making love in the afternoon to this: him running away to Africa and her alone?
It was so easy at this point to just blame it on herself, but now, standing in the shower, she got angry. 'This time it is most certainly not all my fault. I know I've made mistakes, I know I've screwed up, and I know my family is crazy,' she thought. 'But damn it, Carter, I said I was sorry! I asked you for forgiveness for something that was out of my control, and you couldn't even offer me that. How could you ask me to choose my brother over you? All I wanted to do was hold you, tell you everything would be okay, and you pushed me away. Maybe I shouldn't have left when you told me to, maybe I should have just held on, but I'm not made like that.'
Abby shut off the water, pulled the curtain back and stepped out of the shower, trying to do so quietly despite her raging fury. This time her anger was based on reality, not a dream, and it made it all the more intense. She wanted to storm around, slam doors and punch Carter in the stomach, but she couldn't. She knew if she had to face him she would fall apart, and she couldn't do that in front of him. Not now.
Unfortunately, he wasn't going to give her that choice.
Wrapped in her bathrobe, a towel on her head, she opened the door to the bathroom, and there, sitting on her bed, wide awake, was the reason for her emotional roller coaster ride. Now she felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. And all she could do was freeze there, holding the door.
He obviously wanted to talk, right? He hadn't come here, in the middle of the night, directly after returning from the Congo, to just fall asleep on her couch...? But in the past two months or so, Abby had had no luck in reading Carter's thoughts. In particular, since Gamma died, he'd put up a wall that Abby could not see around. She knew that she'd hurt him, she knew that she had made a difficult choice that he could not understand, but what else could she have done?
And yet...There had been problems before the funeral. Who knows when exactly they started? Was it the night Carter came home to find her drunk after finding out Eric was missing? Or was it later, when Carter didn't propose, because something...just wasn't right? Whenever it was, their grip on whatever they had been growing for two years had slowly and imperceptibly lessened until now, here they were, without a clue as to how to fix it.
Abby slipped into the steaming shower, trying to simultaneously get ready for work and clear her head. She wanted so badly to just hide from Carter indefinitely. She wasn't equipped to deal with these things; she was so used to not expressing her true emotions. But Carter always seemed to know, anyway. Always had a way of doing or saying just the right thing to make her better. At least, he used to.
That night, when she had found that ring, something in her broke. She had hoped so much that this time, this relationship, this man...but again, it had fallen apart. Maybe not completely, maybe not in a final way, but to Abby, all she needed was to know that he had changed his mind. That, given the chance to think about it, he had decided that spending his life with her wasn't enough. And that was fine because she was used to it, she was used to the let down, and frankly it was too hard trying not to disappoint him. It was inevitable, it continually happened, and this way must just be better.
And yet...and yet. There it was. She loved him; she knew it, she hoped he knew it, and God knows she couldn't stop it. She wanted to, she wanted so badly to stop it, because this is where loving him landed her. Why was it always so complicated? Whatever happened to their afternoon delight? How could they so quickly go from making love in the afternoon to this: him running away to Africa and her alone?
It was so easy at this point to just blame it on herself, but now, standing in the shower, she got angry. 'This time it is most certainly not all my fault. I know I've made mistakes, I know I've screwed up, and I know my family is crazy,' she thought. 'But damn it, Carter, I said I was sorry! I asked you for forgiveness for something that was out of my control, and you couldn't even offer me that. How could you ask me to choose my brother over you? All I wanted to do was hold you, tell you everything would be okay, and you pushed me away. Maybe I shouldn't have left when you told me to, maybe I should have just held on, but I'm not made like that.'
Abby shut off the water, pulled the curtain back and stepped out of the shower, trying to do so quietly despite her raging fury. This time her anger was based on reality, not a dream, and it made it all the more intense. She wanted to storm around, slam doors and punch Carter in the stomach, but she couldn't. She knew if she had to face him she would fall apart, and she couldn't do that in front of him. Not now.
Unfortunately, he wasn't going to give her that choice.
Wrapped in her bathrobe, a towel on her head, she opened the door to the bathroom, and there, sitting on her bed, wide awake, was the reason for her emotional roller coaster ride. Now she felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. And all she could do was freeze there, holding the door.