Hey everybody, I'm back with Robert and Catherine. Although the story speaks for itself, I feel that I should explain what's different between the movie and the way I wrote them. When I watch iOne Special Night/i I always feel that things are moving way too fast, that the two characters need more time to come to terms. Despite the fact that this is one of my favourite movies of all time, I felt like I had to give them more time. To see what would happen when Mary Beth kept on living just a little while longer. In the first two chapters you could see that Catherine and Robert stayed friends but that their feelings for each other came too soon, it wasn't their time yet. In my humble opinion, they needed some time apart to see if what was happening between them wasn't just a reaction to the cruel circumstances life put them in. They met again, eight months later on their bench and they're on the road to find out what's left of their feelings. If it was for real. If you want to join them, read on. If you don't want to, that's fine too. Let me know what you think please, it means a lot to me to know that.
She had never expected this rush of emotions when she agreed to have dinner with him – nor had she guessed that she would ever dread something that was supposed to be fun. But she was dreading it all right. With a sigh she slammed her closet shut again, staring down at her entire wardrobe spread out on her bed; neatly divided in piles to prevent them from wrinkling. She scolded herself for not being more fashion minded; she should have cared more about her appearance in the past. She had always thought that there was no reason to dress up for dinner alone and her white doctor's coat covered up every outfit anyway. She now realized she had absolutely nothing to wear. Casual clothes as far as the eye could see but nothing fancy. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. That was the least of her problems really. She sat down on her bed, covering her cheeks with both hands and closing her eyes. She was acting silly. As usual.
After they had parted this afternoon she couldn't understand how she was feeling really. Her mind was reeling with possibilities and confused thoughts, going back and forth about what had happened. She wasn't sure how she should be feeling; even though he had been nothing but nice and sweet –she was confused by his presence and what message he sent to her. Maybe things weren't that confusing. Simply by holding her hand he had given her a sign that he was a free man again.
A free man with a past. And she was a free woman with a past. They hadn't even talked for that long; she guessed that both were a bit taken a bit surprised by what suddenly was there – a chance for something new. Funny, she would have thought she would be thrilled when that moment arrived–and of course she was – but she also felt a different sensation that caused her to stand here with trembling hands and a flushed color on her cheeks. She couldn't describe it as anything but sheer terror. Yes she felt fear, fear for making real what she had been picturing in sleepless nights. Fear that nobody could live up to be the person she had turned him into. Fear for letting herself be carried away by the possibility of a new romance – twisting her reality into something more risky and exciting than she could handle. What if she couldn't be what he was looking for, if in fact, he was looking for something? She opened her eyes and frowned. Why was she wrecking her only decent skirt by sitting on top of it? Shoot.
She got up, shutting her worries off for a moment as she ran down the stairs and grabbed her coat from the coat rack, throwing it on her and not bothering to close it. She had one more thing to do before she would finally decide what to wear – she might just as well do it right away. From the moment they had parted she had felt the urge to go to the place where she would find comfort and hopefully a bit of understanding. He wouldn't yell at her for sure.
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His footsteps echoed on the sidewalk and he was taking brisk steps; he always did that when he had a clear destination. It was definitely getting colder; the wind seemed to enjoy ripping off as many leaves from the trees as possible. He passed a group of women; not failing to notice the curious looks they threw at him. He smiled amused when he heard the whispering behind his back, clearly they wondered if he was off to see a lady friend. The bouquet of roses in his hand apparently gave them enough reason to start gossiping until the sun would set. Women.
He tasted the word. Lady friend. Yes, he would call her just that for the time being although he had no idea what she would become. He recalled the flustered look on her face when he asked her out to dinner, her eyes widening at the prospect of a full evening together. It would be nice to feel the presence of a friend. And yet, he knew they weren't just two friends getting together –the way her hand warmed his was far too entrancing to kid himself. He had no idea what he was going to talk about that evening, after all it had been a while since they had spoken last and in a way he was afraid that the ease in which they used to communicate was gone. Hell, maybe he wasn't just thinking he was afraid – maybe he was convinced of it. Of course it would be different now that he was free to act in the way he wanted, if only he knew what it was he wanted.
Crossing the street he slowed down his pace when he approached his destination. His smile faded when he pushed open the gate; inhaling deeply when he felt the silent and peaceful atmosphere that could only exist at a cemetery. If someone brought him here with a blindfold he would recognize it within seconds. Slowly he found his way over the stone path, passing countless silent places of grief and memories. He couldn't really remember all the details of the day he had buried her, standing there with his family around him – saying goodbye to the one person who was missing. The memory of seeing her casket lowering in the ground would be etched in his mind forever though. It was a strange feeling to be here after what had happened earlier that day – the past, present and future calling out to him in just a few hours of time. His daughters came here more often than he did; somehow he didn't need to be here to find her. He met her in little simple things like the sweet smell of Italian coffee or the sound of a pencil scraping on a piece of paper. It was enough to say hello from time to time; he didn't need to look at a piece of stone and actually talk to it. What was left of her body might be there but her soul was somewhere else; he was convinced of that the moment he saw she had left the world. He could only hope it was a better place.
He stopped when he reached her grave, looking at her name that was carved out of stone to last for eternity. The candle next to the headstone was still burning; his grandson had found one that operated on batteries and it turned out to be a smart idea; no wind, rain or snow would ever extinguish this flame. He kneeled down, carefully placing his roses on the white gravel of her grave – creating a cheerful contrast in color. He sat there for a while, staring at the motionless scene before him and he smiled when a little brown bird landed on the headstone and stayed there - clearly it wasn't afraid of him. Some things can't be explained he realized, but he smiled nonetheless as the living creature studied him with the same interest. After a short while the bird flew off, he watched it leave and suddenly his eyes caught movement two paths away. He narrowed his eyes to focus. Oh boy.
She was kneeling and she hadn't seen him, he was sure. Her hands were busy, moving non-stop to plant a small bush in the earth next to a white tombstone. Her sunglasses were dark but they couldn't hide her expression; concentrated and focused on the job to be done. He shouldn't look at her; he was intruding on her privacy and yet he couldn't find it in him to cast his eyes away – this was the first time he saw her unaware of her surroundings and somehow this moment showed the real her. There was something entrancing about watching her. The intimacy of her movements, the concentration on her face when she looked up to glance at the cloudy sky above her – and now she looked right at him.
He was sorry right away for staring at her when he saw her reaction, her hands frozen in the cold earth, her face flustered and shocked. He was invading her privacy in the worst way ever, that much he realized when he took a step back and threw a careful smile at her. Her eyes narrowed when she reached up to shove her sunglasses in her hair and his smile faded when she didn't answer his gesture. For a short silent moment their eyes were locked but after a little hesitation she finished her job – tucking in the roots of the plant with the same care with which she would nurture a baby. Her actions were more determined now that she knew he was watching her and finally she was struggling to get up, her hands were covered in sand and her knees a little wet from the dirt she had been kneeling in. For a moment he didn't know what to do but she solved his problem by cleaning her hands, gathering her belongings and starting to walk in his direction; carefully sidestepping the little pools of mud that were slowly forming under the grey sky. He never even realized it had started to rain.
The rain increased a bit, gently moistening her hair and shoulders as she made her way over to him; a little shaken by this unexpected meeting. When she met his gaze she thought she was imagining things; he was at a place where he shouldn't be – or maybe more where she didn't want him to be. And for a split second she had felt embarrassed that he had caught her in an intimate moment; that he had seen her without her noticing it. But that sensation crumbled away inside her when she realized where he was standing and that their goals were similar this afternoon. He moved towards her now and she shook her head when she read his feelings from his attitude, for the first time she saw him acting a bit embarrassed.
"The wind is indeed changing," she said when he opened his mouth to say something – anything to get rid of the awkward position they had found themselves in. No, what he had put them in by staring at her. "Listen Catherine, I eh…" he started, to break off his sentence when he noticed something written on a tombstone nearby. "Son of a … that guy is dead? How could I have missed that?" he turned to read the inscriptions better, a surprised look on his face.
She raised her brow, what on earth was he doing? "A friend of yours?" she asked, narrowing her eyes to read when the poor person had died.
"No, not exactly!" he answered, smirking when he read the small sentence under his name. "Nathan Welsh, Plumber," he snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. "Somehow asshole would be a better description."
"Robert!" she couldn't believe what he just did but in a way she was relieved they had something to talk about, anything was better than standing there like they had the world on their shoulders and were afraid to talk about it.
"I'm telling you, this guy is responsible for a whole lot of floating pieces of digested food in my hallway."
She frowned confused. "What?"
"The toilet overflowed. I was being polite," he explained and after a little moment of silence he breathed relieved, she laughed out loud now. Situation under control he believed.
"Well, I'll leave you to do your things now," she said, smiling shortly and making an attempt to turn around – stopping when she felt his hand on her shoulder.
"I'm ready to go," he said, "Mind if I walk with you?"
Ignoring the possible double meaning in his words she nodded and carefully they strolled along in silence, a little too aware of their own and each other's presence. It was strange to be at the one place where they never expected the other to be – the one place where they would find privacy and yet; it felt good to share this. At least the other understood.
"Define irony," Robert grinned after a little while and pointed at a large grave that they just passed; it was covered with flowers and there were three names visible on the black stone on top of it. "This guy got into a car accident with both his wife and mistress in the same car and they ended up burying them together."
"Goodness, you're serious?" she asked, narrowing her eyes to read the inscriptions.
"Yes, apparently the family decided to have one place to remember them by because –" he broke his sentence and pointed at their names.
"His mistress was her sister?" she gasped, covering her mouth.
"Yup, I hope for his sake that they put him in the middle," he laughed and to his relief she grinned as well, blushing deeply when she realized they were mocking the dead. Shame on them.
Someone above seemed to agree because a sudden flash of lightning streaked through the air a second later, causing them both to snap their heads back at each other and make a run for it; forgetting all about Nathan Welsh and the unlucky trio. Catherine hastened her way away from the cemetery first, holding her purse above her head in a failed attempt to save her hair from a disaster; she would have to blow dry it all over again before dinner. Shoot.
The rain poured down heavily now, creating a mud pool before their very eyes and it was odd to leave the cemetery in a hurry, there was always this unspoken rule that one would cross the paths in a serene manner instead of rushing out of there. It was of no use anyway, by the time they reached the iron gate she was completely drenched, her pink blouse sticking to her body underneath her jacket and quickly she covered herself up with her arms, ignoring the drops that ran down her face now. Without hesitation she made a run to the safety of her car, seeing him closing his coat quickly and stopping on the sidewalk.
"Where's your car?" she shouted, fiddling with her keys to open hers.
"On my driveway," he replied, raising his brows when she gestured at the passengers seat and sat down, opening the door for him. She smiled at him. "Unless you were planning on swimming home?"
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The soft blanket felt warm under her legs, her feet were warm and she let her toes wiggle in the safety of her slippers. Would someone ever understand why a mature lady, a doctor for god's sake, was sitting in her living room in the middle of the night in her pajamas, staring at the night outside without seeing anything? She just couldn't sleep with all that was happening, or maybe more the promise of what lay ahead or -- maybe what she was hoping that would lay ahead.
Their evening together turned out to be quite nice, she had to admit that going out on a date was quite unexpected and challenging to say the least. They never went home after she had invited him into the privacy of her car, something she had never expected to happen again. She grinned when she remembered his face when he had to fold himself to get in her Jaguar again; he would never get used to that one. She guessed it was a natural way to start their date; she had absolutely no time to worry about her outfit or looks. The down part was that, being unexpected, she didn't have time to prepare herself for being with him again.
As a result, the happy sensations of sheer expectation that she had been hoping for never came, in fact she would find out that their connection was still there – but less obvious than she thought it would be. He was nice and interested, of course that was his nature, but the deep emotional tension between them seemed to have vanished in the air and it was replaced by something unknown. What had she expected anyway, that he would sweep her off her feet in seconds, take her in his arms and abduct her to Paris? Of course not, she wouldn't even want him to.
She still could see herself sitting there in her car and later in the restaurant, smiling about little stories he shared about his grandson and nodding along when he explained why his eldest daughter eventually left her husband. It didn't even surprise her, a woman's pride and trust is something that can't be messed with and to be honest, she praised Lori for choosing a life on her own. That young woman was strong and would do fine, with a little help from her father of course. And she had shared her experiences as well, that she was giving a first aid course in the Medical Center these days after her regular shift in the hospital. She didn't share that she had made the decision to stay as active as possible to keep her head alert and her body vital. And with success, she felt a whole lot better than she did a year ago.
After the dinner the raining had stopped and they had taken a walk together, enjoying the fresh air and knowing that they both needed a little time to get used to these new circumstances. He had invited her to share stories about her work and she had told him, walking on the sidewalk at an easy pace. He was turned towards her, taking slow steps backwards and listening intensely with his hands buried in his pockets. Both of them were reluctant to touch each other again or to talk about their shared past – somehow it would feel like pushing things and there was a silent agreement to let things happen. This evening wasn't about what could have been or would ever be, she couldn't and wouldn't even think that far yet. And as they were walking there, she realized that she wasn't even sure if their friendship as she once knew it, was still there, it had changed since the last time they spoke and in a way she had feared that it would change into… well, nothing.
But then they held still in front of her door and suddenly, like the flash of lightning in the cemetery, something happened inside her. It wasn't because of something he had said or done, it was an uncertain tingly feeling in the pit of her stomach that made her realize that there was still something awake in her. It was slumbering and it was quiet but it was there, fluttering inside her while he spoke. She couldn't remember what he said exactly but she remembered that she had pressed her lips together as she watched him with the familiar surroundings of her garden behind him and it had hit her. He was back in her life, he really was. Goodness.
She wasn't sure if he knew what was happening inside her, or that he was aware of the sudden change in tension between them; all she was sure of that he had felt the need to leave.
Their goodbye was nice and friendly, a short kiss on her cheek and a squeeze of his hand was enough to make her smile gratefully at him and she thought for a second that their eyes locked – but the moment passed and he was gone. He never even promised her to call her.
Getting up from her comfortable position on the sofa she walked over to her wooden cabinet and she swallowed, her finger caressing the glass that protected her favourite picture of Tom. She still remembered the moment she took it, the day of their 25th wedding anniversary and it would be etched in her mind forever. One of the last days in the joy of not knowing, one of the last golden days spent in the safety of being healthy. She fingered her necklace. If only they had appreciated it more. After once last glance at his image she sighed deeply and left the living room, leaving him behind in darkness. She really should try to get some sleep now.
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"Dad? Dad where are you?"
Lori's voice came floating towards him through the open door and he looked up, almost hitting himself on the fingers with his hammer and he swore under his breath.
"Yeah, I'm here sweetheart!" he shouted, placing down his tools and smiling broadly when the sweet little face of his granddaughter appeared in the doorway. "Hello Mary, come to grandpa!" he called out to her, kneeling down to catch her in his arms as she came crawling towards him. "Why are you home this early?" he asked when Lori entered the garden and avoided the grabbing hands of his grandchild when she tried to take the pencil that was stuck behind his ear. She succeeded of course.
"Early? It's past six, where is your head these days?" his daughter frowned, bending down to pick up a few tools that were lying around as usual. Her father was the sweetest grandfather in the world but not a sensible one.
"I'm sorry, I guess I lost track of time," he said and moved back inside with her, releasing the little girl to crawl on the floor. "Is Michael with Jeff?"
"Yes, it's his weekend away with his father remember? Jeff is taking him to the football game," Lori answered and looked around her. "I take it you haven't made dinner?"
"Does the stove look like it's been used?" he threw back the question and he was sorry right away when she sighed and opened the fridge to start cooking. "No, I'm sorry – I completely forgot." He frowned, he still had to get used to the fact that she was living here now. Temporarily of course, until she found a place for her own and her two children. When she had decided to go through with the divorce it had felt natural to take her back in. In a way it turned out for the best for everyone.
"Darling, I'm going to take a shower before dinner," he said and picked little Mary up to place her in her chair, handing her a toy to play with. That would keep her quiet for at least ten minutes he hoped.
"Don't forget to shave," his daughter replied, shaking her head amused when he didn't respond. Always the same discussion.
Entering his bedroom he sank down on the edge of his bed, running his hands through his hair as he listened to the commotion downstairs. Usually he enjoyed their company, the silence that Mary Beth had left behind was heavy as lead sometimes, but lately he felt that he longed for a little privacy. When he was at work in the afternoon he could do whatever his heart desired but the evenings were dedicated to Lori and her two darling children. They were the joy in his life, of course, but sometimes he longed for an adult conversation rather than reading stories and smelling the scent of diapers. He shook his head, oh why was he kidding himself – he was longing to have another conversation with her. It was only a few days since they had dinner together and it turned out to be very different than the first time they went out, the Sunday after Thanksgiving when he gave into something he shouldn't have – just because it had felt too damned good to pass it by. It was his idea no less, to go eat pancakes together because as he was sitting there in that cabin, suddenly he had felt the fear of never seeing her again. And so it happened, they had shared a table and a newspaper together and they had talked, finding a little too much recognition in the eyes of the other. But oh, how happy and warm he had felt that someone understood what he was going through, to be able to share his fears with someone who had been there. Later on his happiness would change into confused emotions and feelings of guilt. Soon after that he had broken it off.
But their dinner the other evening was different as if the road ahead was suddenly open but speed bumps were stopping them from going too fast. Talking to her was still easy because the words seemed to come naturally but all in all their being there seemed, he couldn't put his finger on it, planned in a way. Perhaps by a higher force or maybe just the two of them, he didn't know. It felt as if it was bound to happen one way or the other and that knowledge made him feel too conscious about his own behavior. And yet he had felt that he still liked her as a friend, that he was still curious to know how she was doing and if she was all right. Hearing that was enough to make him smile contently and he had kept on doing that all the way home. Reaching out to the phone on his nightstand he swallowed, hesitating a few seconds before dialling the number. He felt the need to smile again. That night, if possible.
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"Goodbye angel, you take good care of your parents you hear?" she whispered before she handed over the infant to her parents, smiling gently at them. How much she loved this moment when she could send one of them home, when the child was actually strong enough to face the future. Oh she loved her job more than anything although she would never get used to the stings of guilt and pain when she couldn't save an infant in distress or seeing a child suffer. But thank god those moments weren't part of her every day job and she could enjoy moments like this even more, waving to the happy parents near the elevators - carrying their treasure wrapped in a blanket.
Sighing deeply she turned and found her way to her office, passing the nurses station on her right. Clearly they were on their break because she counted 8 white uniforms in there. Laughter came drifting towards her and she smiled when she heard one of the nurses calling out to her.
"Dr. Howard come in! We have just the thing for you!"
Entering the small but very crowded room she laughed surprised. In the middle of the white table, flanked by tea glasses and coffee cups was a plate full with something she had been missing out on for quite some time. "We got it from the Thompsons, you know that nice family from Britain?" the head nurse explained.
"How nice!" she smiled and flopped down on the nearest chair, reaching out for the sweet delicacy until she realized that it became silent around her. She glanced at the waiting group around her and she lowered her hand. "What?"
"How are we supposed to eat this? And what's the white stuff for?" The young trainee she didn't know by name frowned when she held up a small jar of clotted cream and Catherine chuckled, taking it from the confused nurse.
"You never had scones before?" she inquired, grabbing a knife from the drawer behind her and sliced it open. "Here, I'll show you. First you cut it in half, then you add a little clotted cream, don't be too stingy, and at last you take a little jam… do we have jam?" she asked, extending her hand when it was shoved in her direction. "Thank you. Now you put in a little jam and you have a traditional English scone." She handed the sweet treat to the trainee in front of her and laughed when the rest of the group simply held out their plates. Sure, she would have to do them all now – she could have known.
"Sweets are too good for women," the nurse next to her murmured approvingly when she took the first bite.
Catherine smiled, she could only wholeheartedly agree to that and she closed her eyes when she took a bite, letting the sweet taste satisfy her. For a moment it was quiet, only a few satisfied sounds came from around her as the group of women chewed on the scones.
"This is good! Heck, I love all the sweet treats. Muffins, cake – I don't care!" a lady she knew as Tess was talking now, her mouth full with scone.
"You can burry me in chocolate," someone else commented, wiping the cream from her lips.
"Pancakes!" a third exclaimed and suddenly Catherine found herself in the midst of their attention.
"Chocolate chip pancakes," she mumbled as she swallowed her last bite. Oh no. Faces were turned towards her and she raised her brows, ignoring the faint fluttery feeling in her stomach and the flash of heat reaching her cheeks. Was it warm in there or what?
"At Murray's! My 8 year old keeps begging me for those but I never expected you to love them Dr. Howard," Tess said and smiled at her, raising her brows at the unexpected blush on the cheeks of the cardiologist. Catherine was about to comment when the high shrill sound of her beeper startled her and she glanced at it, her blush deepening when she recognized the number right away.
"Excuse me ladies," she said with a friendly nod, "and thank you for thinking of me."
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"You take cream in your coffee?" she appeared in the doorway of her kitchen and he shook his head, browsing through one of her medical magazines with a confused look on his face.
"No, just black will do fine," he replied and smiled at her when she entered the living room, carrying a tray in her hands.
"Thank you," he said, accepting his cup of coffee and she sat down on the other side of the couch, first crossing her legs and finally placing them firmly on the ground. Oh boy, she was nervous to have him here again and yet it felt familiar. Too familiar really, it reminded her of another time when all she could do was listen to him. Now he clearly expected her to talk because he kept looking at her as he took his first sip. She raised a brow when he cringed and placed down his cup as if it had bit him.
"Holy… were you planning on keeping me awake for the rest of my life?" he exclaimed, adding sugar to the dark liquid in an attempt to soften it.
"Is it too strong?" she asked, placing down her tea with a worried look on her face.
"That's an understatement," he coughed and tried another sip, "You always drink your coffee like this? My spoon almost dissolves in it!" He cringed again and placed his cup down, he gave up.
"Well I never drink coffee at home," she said, "I only drink it at work, I guess I don't make it that often myself."
"Could have fooled me," he grinned, amused by the embarrassed look on her face. "Let me show you something," he said, getting up and nodding at her as a gesture so she would follow him into the kitchen. She hesitated a little but then she accepted, a twinkle in her eye gave away that she was more amused than annoyed by it. In the kitchen he opened a few cupboards until he found the coffee canister and she felt the urge to stop him, after all these were her cabinets and her house. And yet it felt nice that he was the one to go through her stuff, it felt secure and familiar in a way.
He opened the canister and smelled the contents before raising a finger at her. "Lesson number one when you make coffee for Mr. Woodward; use mild coffee. No mocha, no dark hazel or something else fancy, just plain mild coffee. Lesson number two; be careful with the amount of coffee, not too much and not too few. Two tablespoons will do. Number three - "
"Serve him tea or let him make his own damned coffee?" she finished his sentence and she laughed when he raised a brow and finally laughed along with her.
"That will work even better," he nodded and finished the job, rinsing his cup and looking around to find a towel to dry it. "You never drink coffee here?" he asked and she grinned as she pointed to a big carton of tea on her sink.
"If I leave these bags to steep long enough, it will become just as powerful," she said and laughed when he cringed.
"Your kitchen is spotless! I forgot about that one, you still don't cook huh?" he looked around and studied the shiny stove and the brand new oven attached to it.
"Are you kidding me? When I can eat in the hospital I wouldn't do that to myself," she chuckled. "The closest I come to cooking is making tea. And if I may say so myself, my scones are unmatched. That is, if they're already baked."
"I would love to try them," he grinned and then they grew silent.
She leaned against the kitchen sink, her arms folded, and she studied him as he turned on the coffee machine and struck the same pose, giving her a sideward glance doing so. She was more relaxed now, at ease and calm and the silence that fell between them was comfortable. For the first time since they met he realized.
"Catherine…" he said, hesitating a little and she looked up, surprised by the change in his voice.
"Yes?" she reacted, turning a little so she could face him. He was looking at her too and she swallowed when their eyes locked.
"You think we should talk about how things ended… you know, between us?" The words were out and he regretted it right away when her face changed, shifting from relaxed to self-conscious. Smart move.
"Oh…" she gasped softly, folding her arms even tighter. Deep down in her stomach she felt that tingly sensation again that only he could bring out in her. If only she could control it, if only she could swallow back the words that formed on her lips. "I never realized things had actually started," she said and her voice sounded hoarse, changing her casual remark into an emotional statement. Oh bother. "Do you…" she started but the sentence froze on her lips when he spoke again.
"I thought about you a lot," he said, his eyes sincere and open. "There were times in which I wanted to call but I couldn't… you know?"
"I know. I knew then as well," she nodded, casting her eyes away from him and she leaned back against the sink again, lifting her chin to study the high ceiling of her kitchen. "You don't have to explain Robert."
"Yes I should," he interrupted her. "But I don't know how."
For a long moment it was silent, the only sound they heard was the dripping of the coffee machine, filling the kitchen with its typical scent. He pressed his lips together and shook his head, he shouldn't have said anything. But it was a fact that he owed her at least an explanation about what had happened before, that he should try to make up for lost time and unspoken promises. He couldn't just continue as if nothing happened, they had been too open to one another.
"You've already explained it," she suddenly said softly and he looked up, finding the warm glow in her eyes. She smiled briefly and turned to pour him a fresh cup of coffee and left the kitchen. The next words she said softly over her shoulder made him smile and it cleared the air. "You're here."
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The wind outside surprised her when she opened the door for him, holding on to it when he stepped outside and closed his coat.
"You think you'll be able to sleep?" she smiled and he turned towards her, swallowing back a naughty comment. Was he really flirting with her?
"If not, can I call you for some illegal drugs from the hospital when I lie awake all night?" he replied, laughing when she hit him playfully. "Ouch, careful doctor!"
"If that will make you forgive me for the caffeine overdose, sure!" she grinned and inhaled deeply when he hesitated to leave. In a way she was happy to see him go because she felt the urge to sit down and rethink what had happened this evening. And yet she wished that this wouldn't have to end because something had shifted between them and it felt good and comfortable. They had talked for hours and they had even watched some television; as it turned out they followed the same series and it was fun to share their thoughts and speculations about it. Thank God they could still laugh.
"Thank you for a lovely evening," he smiled at her and she answered his smile, her stomach was fluttering like crazy now.
"I had fun too," she said softly, her smile fading out when he kept looking at her, an amused look on his face. Oh boy, he was so handsome.
"Well… goodnight," he sighed and hesitated before he leaned towards her, slowly reaching out to take her hand in his. He wasn't sure how to act, wasn't sure how to do this. She turned her hand so their fingers could entwine and for a split second the world seemed to make perfect sense. Until they both looked down – getting thrown back into reality. The light from the hallway reflected in their wedding rings and they glanced at each other, reading in the others eyes that the moment had passed.
"Goodnight Catherine," he said, bringing her hand up to his mouth and pressing a light kiss on it. Her stomach dropped.
"Goodnight Robert," she whispered, rubbing her hand when he turned around and left, turning around one last time before he walked off. She couldn't see his expression clearly but she waved at him before she closed the door, sighing deeply in an attempt to clear her head. She probably would be awake all night too.