By the time we reached her apartment, almost an hour later after driving through the crowds, police and traffic, I felt mentally and physically exhausted. It was 10:00PM, we had been locked in that closet together for so many hours. I couldn't even begin to imagine how she was feeling. I remember the true sorrow she felt when Mr. Warren was so angry with her all of those weeks ago. And now for this to happen, to have people die because her perceived "failed" surgery, I am sure she was devastated.
We sat on the couch, together. Initially I grabbed for the remote, something to distract Callie. I soon realized the TV was likely plagued with the shooting. So we sat there for a moment. She sat on the middle cushion, her head hung slightly with fatigue and sorrow. I sat facing her, rubbing her back, telling her things would be ok, that I would make them ok if it was the last thing I ever did. And she just held my hand, limply.
"So Owen said you like Chinese? Lets order some. We haven't eaten all day Callie…" I said. She looked at me with an annoyed expression.
"I hate Chinese. You know that I hate Chinese. I don't know why Owen would say that I like Chinese..."she said, her eyes blankly staring at the wall in front of us.
"Well, I like pizza…do you like pizza?" I asked
"Pizza is good." She said quietly.
"Hawaiian?" I said with a small smile.
"Sure" She said.
Again, when I tried to stand to grab the phone, she held onto me, causing me to fall back into the couch. She didn't even look at me when she did it, almost like it was a reflex.
"Ok, well can I borrow your phone then?" She handed it to me and I called the pizza guy.
"It should be here in 45 minutes or so" She nodded. Not knowing what to do, I looked around. They lived in a very nice apartment. All of the appliances were state of the art, the furniture seemed new, granite counter tops, huge flat screen in front of us, the whole works. Yet, I felt uncomfortable there.
"Do you want to talk about it, Callie?" I asked. I sure as hell didn't want to talk about it. Not yet, anyway. It still felt too surreal, almost like a daydream.
"I just want to go to bed" She said softly.
"Oh okay. Let's go and I will bring you some pizza when it gets here." I said.
The master bedroom was modernly beautiful. Another massive TV, two beautiful night stands, and a California king size bed. There was a bathroom about 10 feet from the bed, but I couldn't see inside of it. I imagined a glorious shower and massive Jacuzzi sized bathtub. She sat down on the bed, still staring at nothing.
"Can I bring you anything, Callie?" I asked.
"No..."She said. As I stood up to leave, she pulled me down, again. I chuckled a little this time.
"Seriously Callie, I am going to fall one of these times. Will you just tell me what you need?" I said
"I need you to stay here, with me. Just...don't leave me" she said, finally looking me in the eye. She looked so incredibly sad, torn up inside. I gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand.
"I am not going anywhere. Except maybe to get the pizza, when it comes. Ok? I am with you" I said. She breathed a sigh of relief and finally, after nearly 12 hours, Callie let go of my hand.
xxxxxx
Hours after the pizza man came and went, the pizza was eaten and we had brushed our teeth, we were finally in bed, pretending to sleep. We had our backs to one another, both of us a little shy regarding the fact that we were sleeping in the same bed, especially given everything that had happened in the last 48 hours. She had fired me, we had hid in a closet together for hours, held hands for 12 hours straight, survived a shooting, survived a shooting. All those people had died, and we had lived. Why? Why us? I felt grateful, yet confused. Everything that had happened was so coincidental. These thoughts raced through my mind all night. The gunshots, screams, the dogs barking, Callie's teeth chattering in fear. It all played on repeat in my head.
Somewhere in the middle, in my semi conscious state, I felt Callie turn over. Despite the size of the bed, we slept relatively close. I was towards the middle of the bed, her on the edge of the bed, closest to the bathroom. After hearing her turn over I could have sworn I felt the slightest touch of her hand against my back. I thought my dreams were deceiving me, until I felt her index finger, tracing my torso, from my shoulder down to my hip, finally to come to rest on my waist. I felt my breath hitch and my heart race, suddenly wide-awake, praying this wasn't a dream. We laid that way for a while, both probably wondering what to do next. After mustering up some courage, I rolled towards her, holding her hand on my waist. It was pitch black, but I found her face, stroking her cheek. I felt wetness, tears, and pulled myself just slightly closer. My senses were overwhelming, only magnified by my extreme fatigue. My eyes were fighting to close but I wanted so desperately to kiss her in the safety of the darkness. But before I moved, she began to push me away. I reached for her, aching for the contact we had just had. Yet she seemed to move just far enough away so I was out of her grasp.
"Callie…what do want from me" I pleaded.
"I'm so so sorry" she said in a half sob. And she rolled over without another word