We had another sonogram today, and Isabel seems fine - sort of. I swear, the kid is bopping herself in the head. Either she's already beating herself up over I don't know what...or she's got a *very* low boredom threshold and is easily entertained. Neither bodes well. I don't know if she has ears yet, but I'm going to try repeating "cut it out" into a recorder for her to listen to.
I don't know whether I was even necessary out there. I think Caro might be a wee bit annoyed at me for my perfectly fine driving skills - I don't think she caught on that I managed to avoid talking about things while getting there and back as fast as I could.
I goofed around a fair bit, and I think I managed to seem like I had my mind on the job. But Eames had Bobby's back, he came through, Caro was just great, and Barr handled the locals like a pro. Who needed me and my smartass attitude?
I'm glad I know it's over - I know, I saw Bobby take responsibility for Wallace and finally end the game. But I shouldn't have gone.
She spent the whole day reassuring me she was fine, and then, when I got back - I shouldn't have left. I know she can get by without me. I know there are plenty of other people who care about her. It was only a little crisis, after all - but I knew when I left I was making a mistake. She lets me help her, and she thinks she's causing me trouble. She must've heard that before, from other people, that she causes all the problems - I wish I could make her see that that isn't true, or at least, not to me. I'm worried about that - but she'll tell me eventually, I hope.
She needs to see that they don't matter now - if that were the case, if what other people said was always the truth - she has no idea what's been said to me in the name of "love." But I know that that was twisted, and warped and not real; I have to beleive that, and she makes that easier.
I don't have to have her need me, but I need her to want me. Does that make any sense? She does, I think, and when she says she does, she takes years of what other people said and clears it away with a word or a look or even the beating of her heart under my hand.
RP Moment -
Mike lies awake in the hospital bed, Millie asleep in his arms. Her steady breathing reassures him, and now, in the breaking morning, he thinks about the baby from the image - wondering if she was awake, too. Between the events of the day, he thinks, maybe this is as safe as you get.