RECONCILABLE DIFFERENCES - Epilogue
I never thanked Laurie for supplying the title of this story - so thanks Laurie; I owe you - when you write your first fic!
"God, Luka what have I done?"
He stood very still, watching her, the cold of the raw February day still clinging to his coat.
"What have I done? I never meant for this to happen. How did this happen?"
"You don't remember?"
She looked up at him then, misery personified. "I didn't mean for this to happen."
She was sitting on the end of their bed, still in her night clothes at three in the afternoon, her hair dishevelled, eyes small in the pale face. She'd been crying. He sat down cautiously next to her and took her hand. She flinched at the coldness of his touch.
"Sorry."
"I can't fix it this time, can I? I can't go away for three months and come back and start over."
"I don't think so. Not this time. I mean - - - the problem would still be here. Only bigger."
"I've been living in a fool's paradise."
"No."
"Yes."
"No. I won't let you say that." He reached carefully for her other hand and uncurled her fingers from around the empty bottle, setting it on the floor at his side.
"You should go and take a shower, put some clothes on. You'll feel better and then we can talk about this."
"What is there to say?"
"Go. Go on."
He watched her as she walked listlessly from the room and let out a sigh. Picking the bottle up he made his way down to the kitchen and surveyed the disarray there. He knew this was coming, had seen the signs, they'd been clear enough. He should have talked to her sooner about this, but it wasn't easy to broach the subject. Luka gathered up dirty dishes and set about cleaning up. A sound from upstairs made him stop and he took the stairs two at a time.
Abby had dressed in jeans and sweatshirt and her hair still dripped, leaving dark marks on the fabric.
"It's OK" he said. "It's OK. Dry your hair." She obeyed mutely.
"You feel better?" he asked from the window.
"Yes. No."
"Which?"
"I feel cleaner."
"Cleaner is good. It's a start."
"I guess."
"It is."
"I don't think I can do this, Luka."
"You can. You knew it would be hard. It's always hard. But you aren't alone."
"I feel it."
"I know. I think everyone does. It will pass. One day at a time."
"I can't do this. I've always known it, even when I was a kid I knew it. What am I going to do?"
"Stick with it Abby. It's all there is." He came and sat beside her again, not able now to take her hand. "And you know, Rosa has something you never did."
"What?" she asked, looking down at the dark eyes and hair of the child he was holding in the crook of his arm.
"Us."
THE END (for now).
Well, come on, someone had to counteract the welter of Carbabies (tm gondee) elsewhere on this site!
I never thanked Laurie for supplying the title of this story - so thanks Laurie; I owe you - when you write your first fic!
"God, Luka what have I done?"
He stood very still, watching her, the cold of the raw February day still clinging to his coat.
"What have I done? I never meant for this to happen. How did this happen?"
"You don't remember?"
She looked up at him then, misery personified. "I didn't mean for this to happen."
She was sitting on the end of their bed, still in her night clothes at three in the afternoon, her hair dishevelled, eyes small in the pale face. She'd been crying. He sat down cautiously next to her and took her hand. She flinched at the coldness of his touch.
"Sorry."
"I can't fix it this time, can I? I can't go away for three months and come back and start over."
"I don't think so. Not this time. I mean - - - the problem would still be here. Only bigger."
"I've been living in a fool's paradise."
"No."
"Yes."
"No. I won't let you say that." He reached carefully for her other hand and uncurled her fingers from around the empty bottle, setting it on the floor at his side.
"You should go and take a shower, put some clothes on. You'll feel better and then we can talk about this."
"What is there to say?"
"Go. Go on."
He watched her as she walked listlessly from the room and let out a sigh. Picking the bottle up he made his way down to the kitchen and surveyed the disarray there. He knew this was coming, had seen the signs, they'd been clear enough. He should have talked to her sooner about this, but it wasn't easy to broach the subject. Luka gathered up dirty dishes and set about cleaning up. A sound from upstairs made him stop and he took the stairs two at a time.
Abby had dressed in jeans and sweatshirt and her hair still dripped, leaving dark marks on the fabric.
"It's OK" he said. "It's OK. Dry your hair." She obeyed mutely.
"You feel better?" he asked from the window.
"Yes. No."
"Which?"
"I feel cleaner."
"Cleaner is good. It's a start."
"I guess."
"It is."
"I don't think I can do this, Luka."
"You can. You knew it would be hard. It's always hard. But you aren't alone."
"I feel it."
"I know. I think everyone does. It will pass. One day at a time."
"I can't do this. I've always known it, even when I was a kid I knew it. What am I going to do?"
"Stick with it Abby. It's all there is." He came and sat beside her again, not able now to take her hand. "And you know, Rosa has something you never did."
"What?" she asked, looking down at the dark eyes and hair of the child he was holding in the crook of his arm.
"Us."
THE END (for now).
Well, come on, someone had to counteract the welter of Carbabies (tm gondee) elsewhere on this site!