He watched from the distance as she stood before the cold grey locker, mechanically moving things out of it and into the box that sat on the bench next to her. A box that once held some sort of surgical supplies, but that now held the last traces of Doctor Elizabeth Corday from Cook County. The last bits and pieces. He had to turn away, he couldn't stand to watch it anymore, the more he watched, the more it sank in that it was real, that she really was leaving, that she couldn't do anything about it.
But as he retreated down the stairs he realized that she now could do something about it, that she now had another option, that she now had an alternative to marrying someone, that she had a very viable way out. She had an opportunity to save herself without having to resort to desperate measures, and that took a huge feeling of dread off of his chest. He had felt an almost panic when he had read the letter and she said that she had only two options.
He had already seen her marry someone else before, he had let her without a word otherwise because she really and truly loved Mark. He couldn't let her marry someone else without telling her his feelings, not someone she didn't love. He knew that he had let it slip when he had been coming out of surgery, but he was still under the drugs, she probably wrote it off as that being the only reason why he said it. Even though it really was how he felt.
He loved her, he had already conceded that to himself, he loved her with his whole heart, more than she could ever know. He had loved before, but this was something new and different, this was something that he just knew. And he was a closet romantic, he gave himself that much, he knew that true love was out there, and he knew that he had found someone to truly love, even if she didn't love him back. She had been his bright spot during his entire recovery.
He collapsed on the couch in his makeshift office, his favourite place to think. He found his thoughts came so much easier to him when he was sprawled someplace. He stared at the wall, where a small dartboard lay for times like this, when he felt bored, when he needed something to to with his hands to stop him from fidgeting around too much. He reached next to him to grab the few darts that were on the small table that also served as a desk for him and he threw one at the wall, wishing that there was a picture of the INS agent who had come after his Lizzie on there.
He finished off the set of darts before relaxing again. He needed to come up with some sort of an idea if worse came to worse and Morris' father didn't work out. He needed her there, she was his last tie to sanity. He needed to tell her how he felt, and he resolved to do it sometimein the next seventy two hours, the last little bit of time that she had left in America. She was going to know before she left, he knew he couldn't spend the rest of his life wondering what if and regretting his cowardice. The great Rocket Romano wasn't a coward, except when it came to affairs of the heart.
But as he retreated down the stairs he realized that she now could do something about it, that she now had another option, that she now had an alternative to marrying someone, that she had a very viable way out. She had an opportunity to save herself without having to resort to desperate measures, and that took a huge feeling of dread off of his chest. He had felt an almost panic when he had read the letter and she said that she had only two options.
He had already seen her marry someone else before, he had let her without a word otherwise because she really and truly loved Mark. He couldn't let her marry someone else without telling her his feelings, not someone she didn't love. He knew that he had let it slip when he had been coming out of surgery, but he was still under the drugs, she probably wrote it off as that being the only reason why he said it. Even though it really was how he felt.
He loved her, he had already conceded that to himself, he loved her with his whole heart, more than she could ever know. He had loved before, but this was something new and different, this was something that he just knew. And he was a closet romantic, he gave himself that much, he knew that true love was out there, and he knew that he had found someone to truly love, even if she didn't love him back. She had been his bright spot during his entire recovery.
He collapsed on the couch in his makeshift office, his favourite place to think. He found his thoughts came so much easier to him when he was sprawled someplace. He stared at the wall, where a small dartboard lay for times like this, when he felt bored, when he needed something to to with his hands to stop him from fidgeting around too much. He reached next to him to grab the few darts that were on the small table that also served as a desk for him and he threw one at the wall, wishing that there was a picture of the INS agent who had come after his Lizzie on there.
He finished off the set of darts before relaxing again. He needed to come up with some sort of an idea if worse came to worse and Morris' father didn't work out. He needed her there, she was his last tie to sanity. He needed to tell her how he felt, and he resolved to do it sometimein the next seventy two hours, the last little bit of time that she had left in America. She was going to know before she left, he knew he couldn't spend the rest of his life wondering what if and regretting his cowardice. The great Rocket Romano wasn't a coward, except when it came to affairs of the heart.