DIDIER

I couldn't help it. At the sight of the knife, real time and memories became one. I was at a wedding, but I could smell the scent of that night at the circus: sweat, animal crap and blood. I saw Francis lying in the puddle of his own blood by the horses stall. No one around had a phone on them and a crew member ran to the closest house he could find to call the emergency services. My job was to wait for them at the entrance, but I kept sprinting back and forth, feeling desperate. The moment they arrived, I brought them to Francis. My father had him in his arms and he had just passed away. I then saw William lying on the floor, blood pooling next to him, and I fainted.

I woke up in this hospital room and my stomach churned at the recent memory. A nurse entered the room, London, and I remembered her as she came by the office momentarily with William. I asked her if she knew anything about him and she reassured me that he was doing well under the circumstances and that, like him, I should rest. The doctor wanted to keep me for the night to monitor my health and if all was fine, I could go home today. I tried my best to comply, but kept having nightmares. It's been a long time since that situation has intervened with my life and I feel embarrassed it happened while at work.

"Do you have everything?" Abigail asks. "I signed the release papers and we can leave."

I show her the jacket and tie hanging from my arm. My wallet, phone and keys are in my pockets. These were the only things I had on me last night. I don't even dare to look at her face, and she's probably thinking that I'm a coward at the sight of danger.

"If you give me directions, I can bring you to your place. Thomas and Jimmy brought your car already and parked it in front. We rescheduled the appointments for the next days to recover from this awful situation."

I've always been vague about the place I live, because a shoe box is bigger than that studio. "It's okay, Abigail. I can take a bus to go home. You also need to rest."

"I can't let you go home by yourself. I need to make sure you are okay and comfortable. Remember what the doctor said, to not isolate or try dealing with the trauma on your own."

Knowing this is a battle I will never win, I follow her to her car. I give her my address and she starts the navigation. My neighborhood isn't the worst, but it looks washed out and old. Thomas pays me well, but I'm using the money to pay off debts and save to move to a better place in the future.

We arrive at my street and find a spot to park in front of my car. Abigail gets out of hers and I try to ignore everything that's wrong with the building I live in. The hallways are dark and smell like mold, and the elevator stopped working a few months ago. I live on the third floor, so the walk upstairs is fine as long as I'm not carrying heavy bags. We reach my door and Abigail waits patiently next to me. She walks inside and takes the place in after I've opened the curtains.

"I'm sorry you have to see this."

"Sorry? Wait, are you embarrassed about your apartment?" She places her hand on my arm and watches me with concern.

"It's not the nicest place," I shrug as I get a hanger to put my jacket away.

"All I see is a spotless and organized apartment. What's wrong with it?"

"You are probably used to better conditions," I say, still avoiding her gaze.

"Just because I have my place now doesn't mean I don't know what is like to live in modest conditions. We used to live in an apartment when we were kids, all six of us. Dad was an apprentice at the print shop, Mom ironed and fixed clothes for people at home. They worked hard to start their businesses, and we all did odd jobs to earn pocket money. Sometimes the money was tight, but we felt safe and loved at home. That's all that matters."

Her words surprise me. Thomas always gives me the impression of a wealthy and highly educated man. It never occurred to me that their beginnings were humble.

"I'm sorry, Abigail. I'm not thinking straight," I sit on one of the two chairs in my small dining set and motion for her to join me.

"It's okay. Did you know Thomas hired you because he could see the way we were raised in you?"

"No, I didn't. I'm still thankful that you both have welcomed me into the business."

"You've earned your place. Let's get you in bed," she points behind her at my bed.

I stand up and realize that I haven't offered her anything to drink. She stops me before I can get into the kitchenette and starts to unbutton my shirt. I wonder where this is going when she places a small kiss on my bare chest. She then takes a step aside to get a hanger for the shirt. When she moves back, I cup her lovely face and kiss her. This time it's not a mistake and her lips welcome mine.

"Gosh, I feel lightheaded," Abigail says as we separate and smiles. "In a good way."

"I've been wanting to do that again since that rainy day. It felt right," I say while caressing her cheek with my thumb and she nods. "I hope you'll want to talk more about this soon. I like you Abigail. You should know that I'll always be there for you."

"I know, and now you need to rest," she kisses my cheek and takes a step away.

"Come to bed with me," I hold her hand. "We won't do anything. I promise. I just want to hold you for a little longer. I feel so tired."

While Abigail ponders on what to do, I walk to my dresser and get a t-shirt for her and a pair of shorts for me. I hand her the t-shirt and she looks at it with a puzzled face.

"You are wearing pretty clothes. If you come lie down with me they'll get wrinkly. This is long enough and will keep you comfortable and covered."

Abigail grabs the t-shirt and heads to the bathroom to change. I use the opportunity to take off my pants and put on the shorts. I open the covers and sit on the bed until she returns. She comes out and the t-shirt almost reaches her knees. After she gets under the blanket, she curls against me.

"I've been wondering how this would feel," she says as she lifts her head to look at me. "It's as good as I imagined."

This time I don't look away. Instead I kiss her and then enjoy her warmth until my body relaxes.

-*-

Still with my eyes closed, I reach out to my side and find the area empty. I feel rested, but wonder where Abigail has gone to. The t-shirt I lent her is neatly folded on top of the dresser. I feel disappointed and abandoned to a certain sense.

On the table, I find a folded blue note that I recognize as a piece of the office stationery. My heart races as I open it.

I'll be back soon. Went to get groceries.
- Abigail

A sigh of relief escapes me. The doorknob clicks and Abigail enters the apartment with bags filled with groceries. I rush to help her.

"Thank you! I overestimated the stairs. Considered giving up on the last flight," she laughs. "Don't tell Dennis! He'll make fun of me for life. How are you feeling? I woke up after an hour and you were sleeping so deeply I didn't have the heart to wake you up."

"I feel refreshed, to be honest. What have you got in here?"

"A bit of this and that to complement what you already have in your cupboard. Hope you don't mind me snooping around. I just assumed you would be hungry, since all you got was that awful hospital breakfast."

"I don't mind. Thank you for bring the stuff. I usually get something on the way home. Cooking for one person is not that fun."

"I agree. I usually have a friend or one of my brothers over to feel inspired to prepare something. Did your mom teach you how to cook?" She asks as we unpack the food.

"No, Mr. Boyer did. He and his wife and had a juggling act at the circus. They didn't have children, and loved having all the circus ones around. He loved cooking and invited my mom and me often to eat with them. I would stand next to him in his caravan and he would teach me how to chop ingredients and make stuff. It was simple fare, but it was good and tasty," I get a large pot and start filling it with water.

"So you also have good memories of the circus?"

"I do. I'm plagued by the trauma of the night of the stabbing and the many times we had to come in between those two. Life at the circus was bittersweet and almost like living in a small town. I'm still not sure if all the stories I heard about the relationship between my father and mother are true to this day. Just like with the acts, gossip was often extra embellished to make it sound more significant than it was. But among the good memories is also the time spent with Mrs. Boyer learning how to read, write and do math. I also loved riding horses and tending to them. I've seen so many beautiful places while traveling around."

"I would love to hear all about that. Now and always."

"Do you? Does it mean you are willing to give us a chance?"

"I can continue trying to convince myself that it's not appropriate, but I don't give a damn anymore. I've always played by the rules, but I deserve a chance at happiness. I only happened to have found it with a colleague."

Rogue Abigail Morgan, I can get used to it.