Gillian stopped outside the door. She had to do it. It was the best thing for her, and the best thing for Luka.
He was doing better. It was sometimes hard to see, but he was. Physically, he was getting stronger. He'd been up with a walker for the first time the previous day, and had taken a few shaky steps. His emotional progress was less clear. (And, of course, due to privacy issues, she could only gauge it based on what she could see herself.) After a week of daily sessions with Dr. DeRaad, sessions that left him drained and exhausted, the nightmares did seem to be less overwhelming. (Though she couldn't be sure about that part either. She had been sleeping at Luka's apartment for the past few nights; the couch in the lounge just wasn't allowing her much sleep. Though she didn't miss the irony, of course, of sleeping, alone, in Luka's bed, night after night.) But Luka told her that the nightmares were better, and he did seem more rested in the mornings. He told her he was starting to feel better. And she had to trust him.
But, more sleep aside, he did not seem much better, emotionally. If anything, he appeared worse. He was more withdrawn, more depressed. He rarely spoke to her any more, except to answer her questions, as briefly as he could manage. He seemed to be devoting all of his energy, except for that he needed for his physical therapy, to bracing himself for his next counseling session, for the pain he would have to endure during that hour. She could see that he was struggling to make himself eat again, forcing each bite down against the nausea. He showed little emotion about anything. Even getting up to walk, something that she had expected to have brought elation, excitement, had only brought a distant smile and then focused determination as he threw his attention into walking, putting one foot slowly and painfully in front of the other.
He had few visitors now. Abby hadn't been back to see him. When Gillian had run into her in the hall a few days before, she'd asked her about it. "He doesn't want me there," Abby had told her. "He told me to go away."
"I'm sure he didn't mean it," Gillian had said, but she wasn't so sure. While he hadn't said it to her in so many words, his manner was making it quite clear to her that he would like her to go away as well. Whatever progress he was making seemed to be occurring in spite of her presence rather than because of it.
Susan still stopped by almost every day, but never stayed very long. Luka had little to say to her, and the visits seemed to be painful for him. Besides Susan, he had had one visit from a neighbor, and Jing Mei and Randi had stopped by once. No-one else had been by at all.
But the visits he did have didn't seem to help. As in Kisangani, Luka seemed to prefer to be alone. It was too much work now to have to put on a 'good face' for company, even for her.
It was best for Luka. And it was best for her. It had only been a fantasy, of course, and Gillian wasn't even sure when the fantasy had started. Had she really expected, before all this had begun, that their time together would be permanent, or even long-term? When they had first met his first day in Kisangani all she was looking for, and all he was looking for, she well knew, was a little bit of comfort and pleasure, a little bit of human warmth in a setting that, even at its best, was sorely lacking in such things. Even now, after all these weeks, she knew almost nothing about him. Not much to build a relationship on, really.
Gillian opened the door and went into Luka's room. Luka was sitting up in a chair, staring at the tv but, she knew, not really seeing it. It was just background noise. (Gillian knew that if she were to ask him what the people on the talk show were discussing, indeed, even what the name of the program was, he wouldn't be able to tell her.)
"Good morning," she said brightly. "Sleep well?"
"Yeah. Pretty well." The words came out automatically.
Best get on with it. "Can you turn that off for a minute? We need to talk."
Luka obediently switched off the set, put the remote down. "Something wrong with the apartment? Bathroom sink was dripping when I left. I asked the landlord to look at it."
"No ... nothing like that. Everything's fine there." Gillian took a deep breath. "I talked to Elise last night. Remember me telling you about her?"
"Your boss at the hospital in Montreal."
"Yeah. I need to go home, Luka. I'm going to lose my job if I don't."
"Ok," Luka said agreeably, and reached for the remote again.
Gillian was stunned. She hadn't expected --- what had she expected? Not that he'd cling to her, beg her to stay, but surely something more than this. "I'd like to stay longer, I wish I could, but my savings are almost gone, I'll lose my apartment."
Luka sighed. "I never expected you to stay, Gillian. I assumed you would come home with me on the plane, see me settled here, and leave. It's been two weeks. You need to go home. You have a life. This hospital is well staffed, I'm ambulatory again ... or will be very soon ... I don't need a private nurse anymore."
He turned the tv back on, pretended to watch for a minute, then asked, quietly, "When will you be leaving?"
"I haven't made a reservation yet. I need to start back to work on Monday. I thought I'd try to get a Friday flight. That would give me a few days to get settled again."
"You can leave sooner if you want ... if you can get a flight. If you need money ..."
"No, I have enough for a ticket."
"It's the least I can do, Gillian," Luka said, and for the first time she saw some emotion, though she couldn't read what it was, in his eyes. "You have done a lot for me. And I do appreciate it."
"No, I can't take your money. You'll be off work for a while yet yourself. You need it."
Another sigh. "They'll be here to take me to PT soon. Why don't you go see about that ticket. Try my travel agent, Star Travel on North Michigan. Ask for Anna. She should be able to find you a good last-minute deal if you give her my name, tell her I sent you."
"Trying to get rid of me?" Gillian tried to make it sound like a joke, but her voice broke a little.
"You have a life, Gillian," Luka said again. "You need to get back to it." Then, very softly. "I don't know when I'm going to have one again."
"Soon, Luka. Very soon," said Gillian softly. She turned towards the door and thought to herself, "But it won't be with me ...."
He was doing better. It was sometimes hard to see, but he was. Physically, he was getting stronger. He'd been up with a walker for the first time the previous day, and had taken a few shaky steps. His emotional progress was less clear. (And, of course, due to privacy issues, she could only gauge it based on what she could see herself.) After a week of daily sessions with Dr. DeRaad, sessions that left him drained and exhausted, the nightmares did seem to be less overwhelming. (Though she couldn't be sure about that part either. She had been sleeping at Luka's apartment for the past few nights; the couch in the lounge just wasn't allowing her much sleep. Though she didn't miss the irony, of course, of sleeping, alone, in Luka's bed, night after night.) But Luka told her that the nightmares were better, and he did seem more rested in the mornings. He told her he was starting to feel better. And she had to trust him.
But, more sleep aside, he did not seem much better, emotionally. If anything, he appeared worse. He was more withdrawn, more depressed. He rarely spoke to her any more, except to answer her questions, as briefly as he could manage. He seemed to be devoting all of his energy, except for that he needed for his physical therapy, to bracing himself for his next counseling session, for the pain he would have to endure during that hour. She could see that he was struggling to make himself eat again, forcing each bite down against the nausea. He showed little emotion about anything. Even getting up to walk, something that she had expected to have brought elation, excitement, had only brought a distant smile and then focused determination as he threw his attention into walking, putting one foot slowly and painfully in front of the other.
He had few visitors now. Abby hadn't been back to see him. When Gillian had run into her in the hall a few days before, she'd asked her about it. "He doesn't want me there," Abby had told her. "He told me to go away."
"I'm sure he didn't mean it," Gillian had said, but she wasn't so sure. While he hadn't said it to her in so many words, his manner was making it quite clear to her that he would like her to go away as well. Whatever progress he was making seemed to be occurring in spite of her presence rather than because of it.
Susan still stopped by almost every day, but never stayed very long. Luka had little to say to her, and the visits seemed to be painful for him. Besides Susan, he had had one visit from a neighbor, and Jing Mei and Randi had stopped by once. No-one else had been by at all.
But the visits he did have didn't seem to help. As in Kisangani, Luka seemed to prefer to be alone. It was too much work now to have to put on a 'good face' for company, even for her.
It was best for Luka. And it was best for her. It had only been a fantasy, of course, and Gillian wasn't even sure when the fantasy had started. Had she really expected, before all this had begun, that their time together would be permanent, or even long-term? When they had first met his first day in Kisangani all she was looking for, and all he was looking for, she well knew, was a little bit of comfort and pleasure, a little bit of human warmth in a setting that, even at its best, was sorely lacking in such things. Even now, after all these weeks, she knew almost nothing about him. Not much to build a relationship on, really.
Gillian opened the door and went into Luka's room. Luka was sitting up in a chair, staring at the tv but, she knew, not really seeing it. It was just background noise. (Gillian knew that if she were to ask him what the people on the talk show were discussing, indeed, even what the name of the program was, he wouldn't be able to tell her.)
"Good morning," she said brightly. "Sleep well?"
"Yeah. Pretty well." The words came out automatically.
Best get on with it. "Can you turn that off for a minute? We need to talk."
Luka obediently switched off the set, put the remote down. "Something wrong with the apartment? Bathroom sink was dripping when I left. I asked the landlord to look at it."
"No ... nothing like that. Everything's fine there." Gillian took a deep breath. "I talked to Elise last night. Remember me telling you about her?"
"Your boss at the hospital in Montreal."
"Yeah. I need to go home, Luka. I'm going to lose my job if I don't."
"Ok," Luka said agreeably, and reached for the remote again.
Gillian was stunned. She hadn't expected --- what had she expected? Not that he'd cling to her, beg her to stay, but surely something more than this. "I'd like to stay longer, I wish I could, but my savings are almost gone, I'll lose my apartment."
Luka sighed. "I never expected you to stay, Gillian. I assumed you would come home with me on the plane, see me settled here, and leave. It's been two weeks. You need to go home. You have a life. This hospital is well staffed, I'm ambulatory again ... or will be very soon ... I don't need a private nurse anymore."
He turned the tv back on, pretended to watch for a minute, then asked, quietly, "When will you be leaving?"
"I haven't made a reservation yet. I need to start back to work on Monday. I thought I'd try to get a Friday flight. That would give me a few days to get settled again."
"You can leave sooner if you want ... if you can get a flight. If you need money ..."
"No, I have enough for a ticket."
"It's the least I can do, Gillian," Luka said, and for the first time she saw some emotion, though she couldn't read what it was, in his eyes. "You have done a lot for me. And I do appreciate it."
"No, I can't take your money. You'll be off work for a while yet yourself. You need it."
Another sigh. "They'll be here to take me to PT soon. Why don't you go see about that ticket. Try my travel agent, Star Travel on North Michigan. Ask for Anna. She should be able to find you a good last-minute deal if you give her my name, tell her I sent you."
"Trying to get rid of me?" Gillian tried to make it sound like a joke, but her voice broke a little.
"You have a life, Gillian," Luka said again. "You need to get back to it." Then, very softly. "I don't know when I'm going to have one again."
"Soon, Luka. Very soon," said Gillian softly. She turned towards the door and thought to herself, "But it won't be with me ...."
