They didn't talk about it again after that moment but Abbey's suitcase stayed in the closet for the rest of the week and the next week when she packed for New Hampshire she wordlessly packed his suitcase as well.
They traveled to Manchester together and had Thanksgiving with Zoey. Their youngest daughter had been thrilled to have them both home but insisted that not only was she fine, she was truly enjoying having some space. Abbey had been reluctant but agreed it was time to let her daughter dictate what was next for herself. Without much fuss Abbey packed the remainder of her things and returned to DC with Jed that Sunday after church.
A couple of weeks had passed and she was back but they weren't normal yet. Neither expected it to be that easy.
The night they had shared after he made the budget agreement remained an anomaly. After surrendering to that needed release they had stepped back; they needed time to reconnect verbally.
It was a new place for them, having to work to find the connection which had been so natural since the very first moment they met. Neither was used to having to make an effort to avoid feeling weird or distant or formal when the other was in the room.
They still slept on their own very definitive sides of the bed and the casual touches and simple gestures of devotion were still absent from the everyday but things were progressing and to their many observers they appeared happy.
By the time the girls came down for their arranged pre-Christmas gathering Abbey was beginning to feel a sense of normalcy and comfort. She still remained distant with Leo but she and Jed had seemed to have reached a new equilibrium. The teasing and banter had begun to creep back into their conversations and available evenings were spent in comfortable silence reading together and tossing casual observations and thoughts back and forth. They had even shared a crossword puzzle that morning over breakfast and then tea in the oval while they awaited Liz's arrival.
Abbey thought they were in a good place and they were on the same page. She didn't realize how wrong she was; how badly he was struggling, how uncertain he remained. She was blissfully unaware until that night when he asked her that damn question.
"You going to be there?"
She had felt stricken by his offhand topic change to assisted suicide and the way he cavalierly referred to his own certain future as "ugly and that's that." but she could have maintained the emotionless pretense right up until he had to go and break it all down by asking that. What she never thought he would need to ask.
"You going to be there?"
He had tossed it out so casually but it hit her with more force than if he had screamed in anger. She froze on her response, stunned silent.
How could there be any doubt?
"You going to be there?"
What had happened to them? Had the past few months truly caused him to lose his faith in her? Of course they had. How could she have assumed otherwise? She was shamed and heartbroken and confused but mostly sad.
So sad that this is where they had ended up. The beautiful, pure, brilliant love which had defined all that was them had been twisted and obfuscated so that she seemed to be the only one who knew it still existed.
Her daughter had been returned to her but she may still have lost the love of her life.
The weight of the realization hit her hard and fast. She had been proceeding as if this was like any other fight in their long and bumpy history; eventually she would forgive him his transgressions and he would be waiting for her with open arms, all bitterness not only forgiven but forgotten.
It was only at the moment when he asked that she realized this time was different. He was too wounded. He wasn't waiting to forgive and forget because he wasn't sure she ever would.
"You going to be there?"
In the same moment his comment also forced her to face anew that which they had both worked to ignore; their reality that regardless of what she did or how long she took he wouldn't be waiting forever because she was going to lose him. There was no way to tell when he was going to cease being himself and she was going to lose him despite everything and anything...and she had already wasted so much time.
Her guilt and fear and warred with her absolute love for her husband and she was suddenly stunned that she had been able to resist that truth for so long.
She had wanted to leave. Wanted to escape with her wounded pride, her fear and her grief but he had stopped her escape by pleading her name in such a broken voice that her heart shattered all over again.
"Abbey?"
She couldn't trust herself to speak.
As an affectionate couple frequently in the public eye and never far from their strict upbringings Abbey and Jed had long ago developed their own language of intimacy; discreet and discernibly benign ways of showing the depth of their emotion, communicating their love and sharing strength. In their world rare was a more intimate movement than the gentle glide of a thumb on the back of a hand.
They had barely trespassed into each other's personal space over the past few weeks and it had been months since they had shared a tight hug or had clasped hands as they walked down the hall or sat in the limo.
She hoped a return to their silent communication would express the truth of her dedication. As she pressed her lips to his forehead she felt him lean into her, almost desperately. She held the kiss much longer than normal, reluctant to release and end the moment.
But she had to leave.
Had to hide her shame from him for fear it be misinterpreted and she had to find a way to fix what was broken.