"You've not left your oven on, have you?" Zubin checked, as Diane stepped out of the door, and fumbled for her keys.
"Zubin, if I remember rightly, you were the last person to use my oven, when you insisted on making yourself a toasted cheese sandwich," she replied. "So really, I should be asking you."
He laughed. "Sorry. In that case, it's definitely not on." He picked up her overnight bag from the floor where she had placed it, and put an arm around her.
She smiled up at him slightly and pulled her jacket tightly around her. "I really don't want to do this, Zubin," she told him quietly, the smile vanishing the moment she'd spoken. She knew what she wanted wasn't the issue right now. She wanted none of this, but she had it. The only thing she wanted was for it to go away. And the only way for that to happen was to go along with this, to get it sorted as quickly as possible so she could start living again. Because this wasn't living.
"I know," he replied, hugging her briefly. "I know."
She pulled away from the hug. "S'pose we better get going." She smiled falsely. "Let's get this over with," she added, walking off.
"Are you alright?" he asked her, nevertheless following her. He bit his lip. "Stupid question, I know. I'm sorry."
She shook her head, not turning back to look at him. "Considering the circumstances, I'm fine." She debated asking him to drop it, but, deciding that would be rude, settled for saying nothing further. She reflected that she preferred Ric's questions to Zubin's. She preferred the way Ric asked her how she was, how he seemed to truly care, much more so than Zubin. When Zubin asked… yeah, he was being nice and caring. But when Ric asked, he sounded as though something depended on the answer. He truly wanted her to be alright.
The drive to the hospital was mostly in silence, neither of them sure what to say. Zubin was trying to summon the courage to broach the subject of Ric, and Diane was preoccupied by nerves, terrified about the surgery, about the risks, about what might go wrong, about how this was serious. Very serious.
They were almost at the hospital when Zubin cleared his throat. "Diane…" he began, hesitantly.
"Yeah?" She looked up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she did so.
"I need to talk to you…" Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was telling himself that this wasn't a good idea. She was worried already, she was frantic, and this was certainly not the time to be having an in depth conversation with her.
"Uh-oh, that sounds ominous!" There was a forced smile on her face, a forced laugh in her voice. It was obvious that she wanted to hide how she was feeling, hide behind the mask of playfulness, flirtation, her usual façade. The façade everyone was used to by now.
"It's not…" he said, slowly, casting a quick look at her. "I want to talk to you about Ric." He turned his eyes back to the road, so that he couldn't see her reaction.
"Ric?" she repeated, her expression clouding over instantly. "Oh?" She had no plans to make this easy for him. If he wanted to come interfering in her private business, then she was not going to let him have an easy ride.
He almost shuddered at the icy tone in her voice. "You and he…" he began, tentatively.
"Are adults who are responsible for our own behaviour, feelings, and whatever else you might want to interfere with," she interrupted, anger coursing through her. "Zubin, whatever you're going to say, I don't think I really want to hear it. My relationship with Ric is none of your business!"
"You're my friends…" he started to say.
"You're not acting much like a friend!" Zubin had stopped the car by now, but Diane made no effort to get out.
"I don't want to see either of you get hurt, I care a lot about both of you…"
"Neither of us are going to get hurt. You think I'd willingly hurt him?" She looked annoyed; she was annoyed, annoyed at the thought that Zubin thought she would ever hurt Ric.
"I don't think you'd do it willingly…" Zubin shook his head. "Forget it, I'm sorry I said anything… I just don't think either of you are at the right point in your lives right now for a relationship." And that was it. He wasn't trying to be mean, to be cruel, insensitive, whatever else they believed him to be. He just had no idea how the two of them could work at a relationship as well as work through their individual problems right now. He was also uncomfortably aware of the fact that if Ric and Diane became a couple, then he would be very much left out. They would have each other… Kath had Larry… even Rosie and Mubbs had each other. Who he did have? A fleeting affair with a married woman, a few nights with a call girl, various flirtations that had never amounted to anything.
Diane sighed. "We're not in a relationship." She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "But… thanks for your concern. I guess." She shook her head slightly and, tightening her grip on her bag, opened the car door. "I can't… I can't talk about this anymore. Okay?"
He nodded. "I'm sorry I said anything, Diane."
"I'm just sorry you feel like that." She got out of the car and closed the door slightly harder than perhaps was necessary, biting back extra retorts. Clutching her bag so tightly that her knuckles were white, she began to walk up to the hospital. She heard Zubin following her, but neither of them spoke, both aware of this new barrier between them.
As she reached the ward, she hung back slightly, and turned around to see Zubin behind her. "I can't do this, Zubin…"
He shook his head. "You can." As Ric appeared from his office, Zubin nodded towards him. "Ric. Tell Diane she can do this."
Ric crossed the corridor towards her and put an arm around her. "You can do this." He turned to Zubin. "Zube, Will wants to see you about something… some vendetta against Connie…"
Zubin grimaced. "Okay…" He smiled slightly at Diane. "You'll be fine. I'll see you soon."
She nodded. "Thanks Zube." She forced a smile before turning away, trying to avoid Ric's glance.
"Let's get you into a bed," he said, sounding falsely cheery. He didn't want to let on to her how much he was dreading the coming operation. How much he had lain awake the night before, still at her flat, with her in his arms, praying for something to come up meaning that he wouldn't have to do it. Praying for emergencies, for nightmares, for anything… anything to spare him. Spare her.
After he had got her settled, changed into a gown and sitting up in a hospital bed, he sat down next to her and put an arm around her. "I'm not going to go through everything with you," he told her, referring to the usual talk he gave to patients. "I think you know what's going to happen."
She nodded, a faint smile edging its way onto her face. "I do. Just do what you have to."
"I will," he promised her, pulling her into a hug.
She half-knelt on the bed, trying desperately to be closer to him, to lose herself in him. The what ifs were flooding through her mind, what if he couldn't remove it, what if something went wrong, what if she died, what if these were her last living moments…? She felt herself begin to shake with the tears that were forcing their way out, regardless of how much she wanted to keep it in, wanted to put on a brave face.
He felt her begin to cry, and stroked her hair gently, trying not to cry himself. This was too hard. This was Diane, his best friend, and he couldn't do this. He couldn't be responsible for getting her through this. Not like this. Because he could lose her. And he couldn't lose her; he couldn't lose her. Not yet. "You're going to be okay," he whispered, not knowing if she could hear him. "I'm not letting you go this easily…"
She moved away from him slightly, to face him. The tears in his eyes shocked her; she had never expected to see that. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry to make you do this…" she whispered.
"You're not making me do anything…" He felt a tear trickle down his cheek, and blinked hurriedly to rid himself of the rest. "I want to do this for you…"
She smiled through her tears, and wiped away his own with her thumb. "Thank you…"
"It's okay…" And he was crying, holding onto her for support, when he knew it should have been the other way around. He knew that he shouldn't be doing this to her. But all he knew was her. He couldn't lose her, he couldn't be responsible for her, he didn't dare… what if he lost her, what if he lost her through his own fault…?
"You… you don't have to do it…" she said, haltingly, reluctantly.
"I do… of course I have to…" He choked back the sobs and looked at her. "I'm gonna get you through this, I promise you."
"I know." She smiled at him, looking into the eyes that she had seen millions of times before, but never quite like this. Never so sad before. Never so fearful. Never. She stroked his cheek again, wiping more of his tears away.
He was mesmerised by her. He had never looked at her, never seen her, quite like this before. He forced himself to believe that this wasn't his last chance. She would be back, he would bring her back, he would get her through it.
She leaned in to kiss him, conscious only of the fact that it seemed the right thing to do, seemed the only way she could tell him how much he meant to her, how grateful she was, how fearful that this was her last chance… no. It wasn't. And this wasn't a kiss goodbye.