Roxanna slumped down in her chair, staring at the darkened laptop that was sitting on her coffee table. She had meant to start researching some aspect of John's research when she arrived home, since it was still bothering her that he had refused to operate on Jac, even after knowing how close to death she was. It had been up to her to step in and make certain that the surgeon had survived. She didn't know why John had suddenly backed off from helping her in theatre, especially since this was his project, his creation, and that should have meant that he would want to everything in his power to see that the course steadied. Which had led to her wanting to research his work a little more deeply.

There didn't seem to be any sort of motivation for her, though, now that she had collapsed on the sofa. All she really wanted was something she could never have again, and that was to curl up in David's arms and sob. Roxanna hadn't been able to take John's advice on screaming to let her feelings out, and there wasn't really anyone that she wanted to talk to about everything that was going on. For the first time, it became quite obvious just how lonely and insular her life had become, and she hadn't really reflected upon that, either, since she had been so focused on so many intense situations back to back.

The first tears started to silently roll down her cheeks, and Roxanna pulled herself to her feet, leaving the laptop where she had set it as she made her way upstairs, wanting to wash away the stress and despair of the day. Before she had made it to the bathroom, however, her mobile rang, and she frowned deeply as she turned on the stairs and hurried back to the living room to pick up. "Yes?" she asked as she put the phone to her ear, not bothering to look at the display to see who it was.

"Roxanna."

Henrik's soothing voice spread over her mind, and she found herself sinking back down onto the sofa she had tried to leave a few moments ago, a sad smile on her lips as she held the phone to her ear with her shoulder and picked up a throw pillow to hold to her chest as she spoke to him. "Isn't it a bit late to call? I know that you like to get to sleep early."

There was a small pause before he responded, and Roxanna felt something lurch in her chest at that, wondering if she had finally pushed him away completely, after all the hints he had given that he cared for her deeply, maybe even as more than friends. She hadn't been ready to think about that, not when she had thrown herself into first Oliver's recovery, and then into John's trial. She had been blind to so much in an effort to drown her grief, that now when she was taking stock of everything, she felt like the protagonist from that Stevie Smith poem. But maybe, just maybe, Henrik would recognize that she was the one drowning.

"I couldn't get to sleep. You were on my mind, after what happened in theatre today. Are you doing all right?"

Those were exactly the words that she dreaded and needed to hear. Selfishly, she wished that he was sitting across from her, holding her hand, as he looked into her eyes and talked to her. "I'll be fine, Henrik, I just need to decompress from everything that went on today, including my conversations with John. I'm worried about him, Henrik."

"I'm worried about the both of you."

The frank honesty in his voice caused her to sigh deeply before pursing her lips together tightly. "I wish you wouldn't worry about me, I'm learning to handle my grief instead of it handling me. I just worry about my patients." The first hint of tears began to prickle her eyes and she blinked rapidly in order to keep them at bay. Henrik had always been able to hear her sadness, that was one of the things she had adored about him during their time in America.

"Well, if you don't mind, I will still worry about you, Roxanna. You're dear to me."

There was so much behind his words, the yearning there tugging at her heartstrings in a way she hadn't thought she was capable of at that moment. "And you're dear to me. You've been such a good friend to me, even while you're dealing with your own grief. You're that proverbial friend who has stuck closer than a brother."

Roxanna couldn't be certain, but the small breath she heard over the transom sounded almost disappointed at the analogy. She bit her lip to keep in the sigh, waiting to hear what he would say next, hoping that she had been wrong about his reaction. "You know that you've always been close to my heart. I should probably let you go, though, so that you can get some rest for tomorrow. Try not to beat yourself up about what occurred outside of theatre today. You did an amazing job saving Jac, and in the end that is all that matters."

She nodded a little, drawing in a long breath. "Thank you, I think I really needed to hear that after everything that went on today. Sleep well, Henrik."

"You as well, Roxanna." They hung up, and she put her phone back on the charger before getting up and heading back to the stairs. This time, she didn't drag her feet as she climbed the steps, knowing that she needed to get in the shower before she just gave up on everything and crawled into bed without even taking off her clothes.

Flipping on the light, she squinted against the harshness of the lights seeming magnified to her eyes. Screwing them closed, she hurriedly stripped, trying not to trip as she shimmied her way out of her tights. Finally feeling ready to open her eyes once more, she stepped into the shower and turned the water on, allowing it to sluice down on her as she allowed the tears to finally come pouring down her face as she gave in to the need to release all the negative emotions she had been holding in all day. A primal scream tore itself from her lips as she bent her head and looked down at the drain, watching the water swirl before disappearing. A piece of her soul wished that she could be like that water, following the drain out to sea and disappearing like foam on the waves as they crashed to shore. But she couldn't do that to Henrik, not after all he had lost so recently.

Slapping her hand against the shower wall a few times, she struggled to get control of her breaths so that she could focus on washing her hair and body without the water running cold on her. Her usual routine didn't take too long, and then she was getting out of the shower and wrapping a towel around her body as she stumbled into her bedroom. The towel dropped to the floor as she tugged one of David's shirts out of the dresser. It still smelled like him, and she cried a little more as she tugged it over her head and then traipsed over to her bed, falling onto the mattress as she hugged his pillow tightly to her chest, trying to will herself to sleep before she started to sob once more.