Thank you again for the reviews. I've wanted to write this chapter for ages so I was really glad to finally get here so I hope you like it.
Chapter 13 - My Immortal
I am woken a couple of hours later by a knock on the door. I wipe the sleep out of my eyes and look at my watch, half past two. Who would be calling at this time? I walk over to the door and peer through the spy hole and freeze. What is he doing here? When did he get back? What does he want? There's only one way I'm going to find out what the answers are, so I undo the locks and ease the door open. He looks up at me, hair dripping from the rain, his clothes soaked through. His eyes red, from too little sleep or too many tears? He looks down as our eyes meet.
"Abby." It was barely a whisper.
"Carter?" Silence. I stand there waiting for him to say something.
"I'm sorry, this was a bad idea, I just ... I just needed to talk to someone." He turns to leave, head down staring at his feet.
"Wait." Did I really just say that? He turns and looks at me a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes. I can't change my mind now.
"You can talk to me. That is if you want to?" Shut up Abby. I move away from the door, inviting him inside. This had to happen sooner or later I suppose.
He accepts the invitation, moving slowly into my apartment, where he stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, head still down.
"Can I take your coat?" He shrugs it off his shoulders handing it to me with a barely audible thank you. I hang it up then go to find a towel for his dripping hair.
"We'll have to be quiet, Susan's asleep in there." I point to my bedroom as I hand him the towel. He's still stood in exactly the same spot.
I move to the kitchen and pull out a chair from underneath the table, indicating for him to come over. I fix up two cups of coffee and place them both on the table. He gets the hint, walks over, slowly, and sits down, cupping his hands around the mug. He's staring down into it. I don't know what to do, what to say. I cast my eyes down from his face and join him with the staring into the milky brown liquid. We sit there in silence for what seems an age but must really only be a few minutes, the silence growing.
Thousands of thoughts are running through my head. Why is he here, what does it mean? What's upset him that much that he would turn to me, of all people to talk to? What am I supposed to do now? Nothing. This is up to him.
When I first saw him standing there I didn't really want to talk. Was there anything worth saying? But I know now, as I sit opposite him, I miss him. As a friend. I miss the fact he knew what I was thinking, well most of the time anyway. I miss the fact that we used to be able to talk about anything. Not like it is now with this deafening silence between us. I look up at him again, urging him to say something, anything, though not wanting to break the silence myself.
"I shouldn't have come, I'm sorry." He doesn't look up, his voice still quiet.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?" His eyes slowly lift until they meet my gaze, they're full of sorrow, of unshed tears.
"Kem..." it had to come back to her didn't it, perfect wonderful Kem.
"...she...I don't think I can do this." He looks away again. I reach out and hold his hand in mine, telling him I'm there for him. This time I am, not like the others. With his other hand he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a photo. It's folded in half, and looks worn from being folded and unfolded too many times. He unfolds it now, placing it on the table and pushes it towards me. I leave it there a second before picking it up. It's of a baby, only a couple of days old, eyes sleepily half closed. I don't understand, my eyes question him while I place the picture back on the table.
"That's him."
"Who?" I'm still not getting it.
"Daniel ... Kem's baby."
"But he's..."
"...Yeah. He's not mine." His voice breaks slightly and a single tear runs down his cheek. I sit there shocked not knowing what to say. Perhaps Kem isn't so perfect after all.
"But..."
"She was with someone else when I first met her. It's his."
Both of my hands are now encircling both of his. I don't know what to do to ease his pain. We sit there in silence, until I do the only thing I can think of to make it any better. I stand up, keeping hold of his hand. His moist eyes look at me questioningly. I motion for him to follow as I lead him towards my room. I slowly push the door open, not wanting to wake Susan, putting a finger to my lips to tell him to be quiet. We enter the room, his hand still in mine. I lead him across the room until we are standing by Leah's crib. The light from outside illuminating her perfectly. I look up at him, trying to gauge his reaction. His face changes from sad, to questioning, which then quickly turns to anger.
"You thought now would be a good time to show me Susan's baby, after I've just lost my son?" He spits venomously at me. "God Abby!" I wasn't expecting that, but then I never do think things through properly, do I?
He is turning around, ready to leave, when I whisper
"She's not Susan's."
He freezes, turning his head towards me, confusion etched upon his face. I look away, down at Leah, sleeping peacefully, no idea her daddy is seeing her for the first time. I have a lump in my throat as I repeat
"She's not Susan's. She's yours."
~*~
So did you like it?
Chapter 13 - My Immortal
I am woken a couple of hours later by a knock on the door. I wipe the sleep out of my eyes and look at my watch, half past two. Who would be calling at this time? I walk over to the door and peer through the spy hole and freeze. What is he doing here? When did he get back? What does he want? There's only one way I'm going to find out what the answers are, so I undo the locks and ease the door open. He looks up at me, hair dripping from the rain, his clothes soaked through. His eyes red, from too little sleep or too many tears? He looks down as our eyes meet.
"Abby." It was barely a whisper.
"Carter?" Silence. I stand there waiting for him to say something.
"I'm sorry, this was a bad idea, I just ... I just needed to talk to someone." He turns to leave, head down staring at his feet.
"Wait." Did I really just say that? He turns and looks at me a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes. I can't change my mind now.
"You can talk to me. That is if you want to?" Shut up Abby. I move away from the door, inviting him inside. This had to happen sooner or later I suppose.
He accepts the invitation, moving slowly into my apartment, where he stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, head still down.
"Can I take your coat?" He shrugs it off his shoulders handing it to me with a barely audible thank you. I hang it up then go to find a towel for his dripping hair.
"We'll have to be quiet, Susan's asleep in there." I point to my bedroom as I hand him the towel. He's still stood in exactly the same spot.
I move to the kitchen and pull out a chair from underneath the table, indicating for him to come over. I fix up two cups of coffee and place them both on the table. He gets the hint, walks over, slowly, and sits down, cupping his hands around the mug. He's staring down into it. I don't know what to do, what to say. I cast my eyes down from his face and join him with the staring into the milky brown liquid. We sit there in silence for what seems an age but must really only be a few minutes, the silence growing.
Thousands of thoughts are running through my head. Why is he here, what does it mean? What's upset him that much that he would turn to me, of all people to talk to? What am I supposed to do now? Nothing. This is up to him.
When I first saw him standing there I didn't really want to talk. Was there anything worth saying? But I know now, as I sit opposite him, I miss him. As a friend. I miss the fact he knew what I was thinking, well most of the time anyway. I miss the fact that we used to be able to talk about anything. Not like it is now with this deafening silence between us. I look up at him again, urging him to say something, anything, though not wanting to break the silence myself.
"I shouldn't have come, I'm sorry." He doesn't look up, his voice still quiet.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?" His eyes slowly lift until they meet my gaze, they're full of sorrow, of unshed tears.
"Kem..." it had to come back to her didn't it, perfect wonderful Kem.
"...she...I don't think I can do this." He looks away again. I reach out and hold his hand in mine, telling him I'm there for him. This time I am, not like the others. With his other hand he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a photo. It's folded in half, and looks worn from being folded and unfolded too many times. He unfolds it now, placing it on the table and pushes it towards me. I leave it there a second before picking it up. It's of a baby, only a couple of days old, eyes sleepily half closed. I don't understand, my eyes question him while I place the picture back on the table.
"That's him."
"Who?" I'm still not getting it.
"Daniel ... Kem's baby."
"But he's..."
"...Yeah. He's not mine." His voice breaks slightly and a single tear runs down his cheek. I sit there shocked not knowing what to say. Perhaps Kem isn't so perfect after all.
"But..."
"She was with someone else when I first met her. It's his."
Both of my hands are now encircling both of his. I don't know what to do to ease his pain. We sit there in silence, until I do the only thing I can think of to make it any better. I stand up, keeping hold of his hand. His moist eyes look at me questioningly. I motion for him to follow as I lead him towards my room. I slowly push the door open, not wanting to wake Susan, putting a finger to my lips to tell him to be quiet. We enter the room, his hand still in mine. I lead him across the room until we are standing by Leah's crib. The light from outside illuminating her perfectly. I look up at him, trying to gauge his reaction. His face changes from sad, to questioning, which then quickly turns to anger.
"You thought now would be a good time to show me Susan's baby, after I've just lost my son?" He spits venomously at me. "God Abby!" I wasn't expecting that, but then I never do think things through properly, do I?
He is turning around, ready to leave, when I whisper
"She's not Susan's."
He freezes, turning his head towards me, confusion etched upon his face. I look away, down at Leah, sleeping peacefully, no idea her daddy is seeing her for the first time. I have a lump in my throat as I repeat
"She's not Susan's. She's yours."
~*~
So did you like it?