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I smiled at him. He really couldn't understand how I felt. "What if he had a relapse? I can't be going back and forth."
"If you have to fly back, it's no big deal," he added. "We can afford it."
"It's not that," I said. "You have to go back. You're needed there. I'm extra. I'm not needed there. My father needs me."
"I need you."
I smiled and ran my fingers through his hair. "I'd be sick with worry if I went back too soon. I'd have nothing to do but sit around and think of all the bad things that could happen."
He said nothing, but his usually soft lips were pressed thin, his face blanched.
"Drake, you'll be really busy when you take on a full surgical load. Michael said he wants the two of you to go to the outlying provinces to do surgeries in the smaller centers during the breaks in the semester and you agreed. That would mean you'd be away for a week at a time and I'd be all alone…"
"I can't help that I'm so busy. The patients," he said, his voice low. "They've been waiting so long for this surgery. And I want you to come with me when we travel."
"I understand that," I said and took his hand. "But I can't leave here until I feel really certain that everything's OK. I read the articles on this kind of stroke. The risk of a re-bleed is still very high in the first few weeks after surgery. I'm not going to fly all the way to Nairobi and then worry every day and night that he's going to have another bleed and I'll have to fly back."
"That's too long. The semester will almost be over by then."
"Don't you understand? I'll feel useless there. All I have is my art and even that’s in question after the safari," I said, frustrated that he didn't get it.
He exhaled loudly. "What did that bastard Sefton say to you?" He leaned closer to me, his expression intense. "He must have said something to make you feel this way. It's like you're using your father's stroke as an excuse to stay here and not come back with me."
I closed my eyes. Maybe I was. All I knew was that I couldn't imagine leaving my father until I was certain he had recovered and was out of danger.
"Drake, my father and I only became close recently and then he almost died. I can't leave until I know he's no longer in danger."
"I can't stand the thought of going back without you."
I smiled softly. "I know. But you have to go back. And I have to stay. We'll only be apart for a few weeks."
"Elaine and Ethan were never separated."
"Yes, but her father didn't almost die while she was half way around the world!' I said, finally overcome by frustration that he couldn’t understand. "What if your father had survived the crash and you had to leave Manhattan and go to Africa to see him. Would you have left him there and returned after only a week?"
He shook his head slowly. "OK," he said, his voice low. "All right. I understand." He glanced away from my face, staring straight ahead, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "You're not ready to commit to me completely yet. You're still torn between your father and me. But there will come a time when you have to choose, Kate. Me or him."
"I'm not doing that!" I said, filled with exasperation. "I'm not choosing him over you. And don't you ask me to do that. I will be with you – in a few weeks." I sighed heavily. Why did he see it as all or nothing? "I'm afraid he'll die when I'm away and I won't get back in time to say goodbye." Tears sprung to my eyes at that. I sat in silence for a moment, breathing fast, my heart pounding.
"That won't happen."
"You can't promise it won't."
I looked at him, so confused and upset. Then he took my hand.
"You're not happy in Nairobi."
I sighed. It wasn't that I was unhappy – not really. It was that I couldn't i
magine going back and being alone all day and evening with my father's health still so unstable.
"You're away so much. I'm alone so much. I have no one to talk to. Besides my few canvases, you're everything. At least in Manhattan, I have family and friends," I said, trying to make him understand.
"Dawn is hardly a friend," he said quietly.
"Well, acquaintances," I admitted, since Dawn and I were on the outs. I stared at Drake, and he was visibly upset. "At least I'll have someone to speak to. I go days sometimes with no one but you to talk to. You talk to people all day. You’re probably never alone. Then you come home and I'm craving a conversation with you, but you're so late and you're so tired, we barely speak. Drake," I said, my voice lowering. I hesitated, because I knew I probably shouldn't say what I was going to say, but I said it anyway. "You probably see her more in a day than me."
He actually cringed at that, his expression changing to something like pain.
