A/N: Thanks for all the positive feedback you gave me for the first chapter of this story. At the time I wrote it I didn't know if time and my commitments would allow any more chapters, but now I'm home for the summer and have a little more time on my hands. I hope you continue to enjoy this. The style is a poor imitation of that used by the immensely talented Jodi Picoult in her book "Plain Truth". Mad props to Tracey for her excellent ideas and comments upon proof reading. Oh, and I've borrowed a little from SATC and John Mayer so thanks to them too. I own nothing... unfortunately.
Abby
Breathing heavily, I pad back across the road to County. The rain is slowing to a light drizzle, sporadic drops falling pitifully like tears. Pensively, my finger runs along my bottom lip. What was I thinking? Was I even thinking at all?
As I reach the NICU I spy Neela, who approaches with a quizzical expression. I hope it's not in response to the guilty flush of my own face.
"I thought you'd maybe left," she states softly.
Shaking my head, I respond, "I just went for coffee at Ike's". That's all I intended to have...
"I heard about what happened," Neela speaks.
What?
"I'm sorry," she continues.
The baby. She's talking about the baby.
I smile gratefully, knowing it's not reaching my eyes.
"Raad told me to tell you to go home."
"I still have a couple of hours left on shift," I reply.
Neela stares. "I don't think it was a request."
But I can't leave now. If I go home to my empty apartment I'll while away the small hours overanalyzing what just happened. And so I decide to do what I do best: go into denial.
"Tell Radd I'm staying," I announce forcefully before breezing forwards through the double doors.
Neela's eye roll is all but audible.
"Fine," she concedes to my stubbornness, "why don't you check the vents? We just had a power out and they're currently running on back up."
It's three days before I'm faced with the inevitable awkward conversation. And as Murphy's law dictates it's when I'm least prepared for it. I'm called down to the ER for a consult and I dutifully attend without too much trepidation. His schedule clearly states that he's taking the early shift today. It's four p.m. I'm safe. So when I step into exam two I'm somewhat taken aback to be met by his eyes upon mine. The bastard switched shifts.
Once the twenty-six weeker is safely on his way upstairs, I duck into the lounge to finish up paper work, hoping he won't see me.
He sees me.
His gentle footfalls mirror my own and he takes up a coffee mug from the counter.
"Busy shift, huh?" I voice, desperate to keep the conversation light.
He's having none of it.
"Abby," he speaks softly, causing my stomach to lurch for several reasons.
Sighing, I tear my eyes from the chart and chance a glance at his face.
"Are we going to talk about the power out?" he asks.
Not if I can help it.
"Yeah, umm... I'm sorry about that. I'm not sure what came over me."
But you kissed me back.
"Are you okay?" he responds.
The question seems misplaced and my expression clearly says so, as he continues, "You never explained why you were crying."
"Oh, we'd just lost a baby."
"I'm sorry."
A pensive silence washes over the room.
"That's tough," he says sympathetically, "you know, if you ever need to talk..."
Nodding, I reply, "I know."
Smiling he walks towards the door, "I'll see you at eight."
What?
Off my look he explains, "I offered to help you study."
I remember, but I'd assumed that was firmly off the cards now. I'm so dazed that despite my prior actions he's still prepared to help me that I do the only thing I can.
"Sure, eight o'clock."
The door swings shut and I'm alone with my thoughts once more.
