If Only

Chapter 11 – Clarity

"And you think that's the way to do it?" My voice is furious as I shout at him, but a defiant part of me is screaming out to just kiss him and go back to our weekend together.

"Abby, I'm not leaving until you listen to me." He grabs my hands with both of his and ducks his head to lock his eyes to mine as I try to avert my gaze. "I'm in love with you."

I'm speechless for a second, staring into his intense brown eyes and wishing I could believe what he was saying. "You're not."

His laugh is humourless as he backs away from me and runs a hand over his hair. "Don't tell me how I feel, Abby. I'm in love with you, as frustrating as that is."

"I'm not going through this again, Carter."

"Why are you so ready to accept I wanted this to end?" He's standing back from me now, his handsome face set in earnest fascination as he watches me.

"What was 'this', Carter? It was one weekend! You wanted company and I…" I cut off my accusation as I nearly fall into the trap of revealing how I feel. I've done that too many times already with Carter, and I refuse to do it again now.

"You what, Abby? What was last weekend to you?" He's yelling at me, obviously not liking my less than honest answer.

Hot tears spring to my eyes as I stare at him. As much as I want to protect myself, I can't lie about this, about how I feel. I swipe a hand across my eyes and move past him under the pretence of making coffee. I hear him move and drop to the couch, as I fight back the tears threatening to fall.

I take out two mugs from the cupboard as Carter has made no move to leave in the minutes it has taken me to brew the coffee. He looks up at me in surprise as I hand him the drink, sitting down on the other end of the couch, leaving a whole cushion as the no-mans-land between us.

"I'm sorry." I say it quietly before I can stop myself, and I'm not sure I can pinpoint what exactly I'm apologising for, but the whole situation feels like my fault, whether it actually is or not.

"I still want an answer." His voice is soft but does nothing to disguise the demand.

I sip my coffee, holding the bright blue mug in front of me with both hands as if it could shield me from any more of this argument. "You know what it meant to me, Carter." I can't look at him as I say it, studying a tiny chip in the porcelain of my cup instead.

His eyes are on me as I avoid looking anywhere near him, waiting for his next words. "To be honest, Abby, I thought I did. Now I'm not sure I do."

"I don't know what do you want me to say." I reply lightly.

"Tell me what you're so scared of. Tell me being together this weekend meant as much to you as it did to me." He suggested forcefully, not quite managing to keep his voice level.

I don't answer. I can't, I have no idea what to say, how to formulate my feelings even if I had half a clue what they were.

"Do you remember that night I came back from Congo?" He's talking again, apparently abandoning the question he's just asked me. "I came straight here from the airport."

"It's hard to forget your boyfriend leaving for two weeks without so much as a goodbye, Carter." I snap sarcastically, the worry I went through for two weeks that he wouldn't come back alive on top of the anxiety that our relationship was over, coming back to me like a hangover.

"Abby, I'd spent two solid weeks just wishing I could see you. Two weeks trying to figure out how I could fix our relationship, and that night I finally got to see you again." He stopped, a frown creasing his forehead as he stares into his cooling coffee.

"And within twenty-four hours you were on a plane back to Africa." I stand up abruptly, my anger returning.

"I went back for Luka."

"And you stayed there!" I shout at him, feeling a stray tear on my cheek as I finally let my fury out at the cause of my being left alone two years ago. "I was in love with you Carter! I made you leave because you turned up in the middle of the night like some archangel, after two weeks of having no idea where you were! I was angry, and I wanted to hurt you like you'd hurt me. But you left. You left again and sent me a letter." My voice is bitter, and I feel a perverse sense of longing to know what he will say to this, having never talked about our break-up or our feelings before now.

It's his turn to be silent now.

"And the letter got round the whole department, did you know that? The whole ER knew within an hour of me reading that lovely note that you were cutting your losses back in Chicago so you could be free and single over there." As a rule, I don't cry. I'm not the type, nor have I ever been except rare occasions. Rare occasions seemingly being this one, as heated tears run freely from my eyes.

My sarcasm sparks a response as he rises to face me. "You want to know the truth, Abby? I didn't stop thinking about you when I was over there. Believe me I tried to. I dated other women, I worked as many hours as I could and I wrote you that damn letter, all in an attempt to forget you!"

"So what happened? It was too much fun trying to forget me that you decided to stay there?" I'm only vaguely aware of how poisonous my mocking tone is, but my fury blinds my common sense so I'm helpless to do anything but regret my words later.

"You want me to spell it out? I stayed for the baby. My baby. A family." The rage drains from both of us in an instant. I drop slowly to the sofa, my head in my hands. I sense Carter crouch in front of me, placing his hands on my knees gently.

We sit in silence for a little while, neither sure what to say and both too exhausted from the furious dispute to make small talk.

He's still in front of me, his eyes on the dark blue of my jeans as he distractedly runs a finger in circles over my knee. "When I lost it yesterday, it wasn't the baby that got to me." He speaks quietly, not looking up to meet my eyes as I look at him in confusion.

"What?"

I watch as he sighs, then finally sets his lovely brown eyes to mine. "It was you with the baby that got to me, Abby." His voice is so quiet I'm not sure I heard him right.

"I don't understand."

"When I was in the Congo, after Kem told me she was pregnant, I would sometimes have these images of you. I've only ever imagined myself marrying you, Abby, that you would be the one pregnant with my baby. And then I saw you yesterday…" He locked his intense gaze to mine. "Holding that baby like that, it was exactly like those images I kept having."

I look at him in astonishment, wondering if this could possibly be true.

"Abby, I didn't realise it then, or maybe I did and I just ignored it, but I never stopped loving you." Carter studies me with a compelling stare, his expression as sincere as always as he adds; "I need you, Abby."