She'd made coffee, and poured cornflakes into a bowl. She was still taking care of him, looking after him. Luka added milk to the cereal and sat down to eat. When he was done he washed the cup and bowl and then wandered over to the sofa where he sat down to stare at the phone ... and listen to the silence.
He didn't call her. All he needed was to hear her voice and to know that she was ok. But he knew that wasn't what she meant. And he knew that she wasn't ok. Nothing was ok. Nothing was right. As suddenly as everything had come together for them, everything was falling apart again.
It was the longest morning Luka could remember, and the loneliest. He'd been alone for so much of his life. He was used to being alone, but even during the worst days he'd always had his work to look forward to. Now he just had Abby's homecoming to look forward to. That was all.
What was it about Abby? She had the ability to make him feel less lonely, less alone, than anyone he'd ever known. And the ability to cause him more pain. She could fill the hollow places in his soul and, just as easily, create new ones that would never be filled. Did she even know the power she had over him? Did she care?
He didn't understand her, and it seemed that every day he spent with her, he understood himself a little bit less. 'I don't know what I'm feeling,' she'd told him. 'And I'm afraid to look too deeply ... afraid of what I'll find..' Did he have that same fear? That if he looked too hard at his feelings that he might see something he didn't want to face? He loved her; that much he was certain of. Why couldn't it be enough?
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1:25 p.m. The key in the lock, right on schedule. "I brought you burgers and fries," Abby said, putting the bag on the table. "With extra mayo, just the way you like it."
"My cardiologist thanks you." She seemed cheerful enough today. He smiled at her, but she didn't smile back.
"You have a cardiologist?"
"My future cardiologist thanks you." Luka opened the bag. It contained only 2 hamburgers and a medium box of fries. "Where's your lunch? Or did you eat it on the el?"
"I'm not really hungry. I'm going out for a while; I'll pick something up later."
And Luka realized that she hadn't taken off her jacket, hadn't looked at him. "You just got home ...."
"I brought you your lunch." She turned towards the door again. "I have my cell phone. Call me if you need anything."
"Where are you going?" The toofamiliar ache in his heart, the familiar fear.
"Out." Her hand was on the doorknob.
"Abby .... talk to me, please?"
Abby shook her head. "It's nothing sinister, Luka. I'mnot heading for the local bar, I promise. I just ... when I was packing the other day I realized that I only have like 5 pairs of socks that don't have holes in them. And we're low on soap and ..." She spoke rapidly. How many times had she rehearsed this?
"Stop running away from this," Luka said softly. "Stop running away from me. Please."
Abby sighed, shut the door and took off her jacket. "I hope you know how to darn socks." She sat down across from him, and Luka suddenly remembered a kiss tasting of strawberry jam. It felt like a lifetime ago. He searched for something to say.
"I want to help you, Abby. I know ... how hard this is for you."
"You can't." She looked at her hands.
"I can't help ... or I can't know what you're feeling?"
"Either one."
"I can help you , and I want to. You helped me ... so much, those first couple of weeks."
"I'm a nurse, that's what we do."
"I'm not just talking about being my nurse. You were there for me. You ... you saved my life, and I'm not just talking about the PE. You gave me a reason to want to go on ... to want to live."
"If it wasn't for me you wouldn't have had to go through any of this to begin with!"
"It's not your fault."
"You would never have met Brian if it hadn't been for me. And he sure as hell wouldn't have tried to kill you."
"But he didn't kill me. I survived, and maybe ..." Luka hesitated. "Maybe it was ... meant to be, you know? To bring us together. To change us."
A short laugh from Abby. "I was raped as part of some sort of grand plan?"
"No!" God ... why couldn't he find the right things to say. "But youwere raped. And I was shot. You helped me after I was shot ... now I want to help you. We were hurt ... together. Now we can heal together. I can help you ... if you'll let me."
"There's nothing you can do, Luka."
"You never give me the chance to try."
"You can't fix this for me. Carter wanted to fix it and now you want to. Everyone wants to ... fix me, but you can't. Some things just can't be fixed. Not that way. You ... your injuries were nice and straightforward. Anspaugh took two bullets out of your chest and sewed you up, and you were on the road to recovery. But me ... my wounds ... my ... scars ... are harder to see, and theycan't be fixed." Abby rose and went to get her jacket. "You can't just patch up a rape, Luka. And since you can't fix the holes in my socks either, I need to go out."
"If you won't let me help you ... at least talk to someone."
"When I was in the hospital I talked to the nice lady from rape-crisis. She told me it would take time to heal. I just need some time, Luka. And some space."
The door slammed behind her, the sound of it almost a physical pain. How many more doors would she close between them? How much longer would she keep running away from her pain? From the help that he knew he could give her?
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Luka looked down at Abby, sleeping peacefully beside him. She no longer got out of bed after making love, no longer left him to fall asleep alone. It was one small thing to be thankful for. It was, perhaps, one small sign of hope. She didn't cry, and she didn't leave their bed.
Every night they made love. Every night they fell asleep together. But the days ... the days were painful. Abby was drinking again. She didn't come home drunk, but Luka knew she was drinking. Using all the tools that he himself was too familiar with to bury her pain. And Luka no longer tried to argue with her about it. The best that would happen, he knew was that it wouldn't help. And the worst ... she would leave.
That first day she'd come home well past dark. She had a bag of socks, two bars of soap, and the unmistakable smell of alcohol on her breath. She'd been cheerful, apologetic about being gone so long, and affectionate. Once in bed, she'd again thrown herself into his arms, tried to kiss him.
"Not tonight, Abby. Ok?"
"Aren't you feeling well?"
"I'm fine. I just don't think it's a good idea right now."
"You don't want me anymore?" Hurt, then "Maybe I should call Ralene for you?"
"Abby, stop it!" he had snapped. "I love you ... and I want you ... but not like this. This isn't going to solve anything."
"So speaks the expert on that. Just how long did it take you to discover that sex doesn't solve anything? What gives you the right to lecture me on it? I'm sure if things had been different you would still be ..."
She wasn't trying to hurt him. Luka knew that. She was making a rational argument. And he couldn't deny that she was right. He knew that sex couldn't cure pain, but it could mask it for a while, let him forget it for a while. And how could he deny her what he had taken so freely himself so often, from so many women? At least he loved her. It might be meaningless for her, but it couldn't be for him.
"Please ... " Abby had whispered, on the edge of tears. "I need you." And he couldn't resist any longer.
Watching her sleep now, Luka couldn't help sighing a little. She needed him. She needed the only comfort she seemed to know how to ask for anymore, the only connection she seemed able to make with him. If he couldn't be loved, at least he could be needed ... and that was something.
He needed her too. Whatever she could offer him, he would take. The alternative would be to lose her completely, and that was too painful to contemplate. He did love her, he was sure of that.He knew what love felt like. But more than that, he needed her. Despite everything, she was still the best thing in his life ..theonly good thing in his life. She had been there when he'd wakened after surgery. She had been there when he'd wakened, frightened and confused, in the ICU. And she'd been there every day since then. To lose her, to lose the only good thing to have come out of the nightmare ... could he face that? Was she really the only reason he had to go on ... to survive? He was stillfrightened ... still floundering, and she was the only anchor he had.
And that realization was painful too.