Title: What I Really Meant to Say

Author: Shelly

Email: nursezelda@aol.com

Rating: PG

Genre: Angst / Song

Posted: 4/18/03

Summary: Caroline tries to stay strong when she accidentally bumps into Richard, who is supposed to be in Italy with his new son.

Disclaimer: "Caroline in the City" belongs to Barron/Pennette, CBS, NBC and Three Sisters Entertainment. Use of these characters is strictly for entertainment purposes. I can only dream about one day getting paid to do this. Do not redistribute without express permission from the author. "What I Really Meant to Say" is performed by Cyndi Thomson on her CD "My World" and is written by Cyndi Thomson, Chris Waters and Tommy Lee James.

Notes: I've been writing fanfiction for three years now, but this is my first attempt at a CiTC fanfic. I hope you like it! Super special thanks to Caroline for holding my hand through my first posting. ;-)

What I Really Meant to Say

It took me by surprise

When I saw you standing there

Close enough to touch

Breathing the same air

I stepped out of the subway tunnel into the night air. It was spring and, despite the concrete jungle, I could smell a hint of refreshing coolness on the breeze. It had been a month since Richard had left. A month since I'd walked away from him at the airport, my heart ripped from my chest.

I sighed as I crossed the street, trying to keep from thinking about him. It was impossible. Every little thing reminded me of him, or something he had said, or something he had done. Living without him was unbearable but I was determined to give him the time and the space he needed. If he really was my 'sincere amore' then everything would work out in the end. At least, that was what I kept telling myself.

I glanced up to find that I had already arrived at the dry cleaners, the time passing quickly while I was deep in thought. I placed one hand on the door, ready to go in, when I saw someone out of the corner of my eye that made me freeze in my tracks. 'No,' I thought. 'It can't be.' Slowly, I turned and examined the man standing at the bus stop, directly behind me. I must have walked right behind him, so lost in thought, and didn't even notice.

Richard.

Suddenly, I realized I wasn't breathing. Seeing him there, so close, and yet so far away, felt like a gut-punch. All the emotions I had been trying to get past for four weeks came flooding to the surface and I just knew I was going to break down.

'No good.' I took several deep breaths and tried to calm down. 'You don't know why he's here and you don't want to scare him away.' Feeling under control, I reached out for him.

"Richard?"

"Caroline?"

He turned around, his long coat flaring out around his legs like a skirt. I don't think I'd ever seen him move so fast. He looked surprised to see me, but his eyes lit up with what I perceived to be joy. He took a step toward me, raising his arms as if to pull me toward him and the breath caught in my throat, my body begging to be close to his again, but he stopped and checked himself.

"How have you been?" he asked, hesitantly, lowering his arms to his sides and staying a chaste distance from me.

You asked me how I'd been

'Terrible, awful, lonely, destroyed, . . .' my mind listed all the adjectives I could use to describe our time apart. None would do the reality justice.

I guess that's when I smiled and said, "Just fine."

"Oh, just fine," I replied, a forced smile on my lips. "What are you doing here?"

Oh, but baby I was lying

He looked down at his hands, now clasped in front of him, and began to play with his thumbnail. "I had some business in New York. I'll only be here for a few days."

I wonder if I looked as crushed as I felt. What was I thinking? That he had come back to sweep me into his arms and confess his undying love for me? He had flown all the way from Italy on 'business' and hadn't even bothered to call me.

"Oh," was all I could say.

"Are you sure you're fine?" he asked me, the concern for my well being as evident now as it had been four years ago. He had always cared about me and I for him, but the timing was never right.

Again, plastering on my smile, the one I'd been wearing in public since he left, I nodded emphatically. "Absolutely, just fine."

What I really meant to say

Is I'm dying here inside

And I miss you more each day

There's not a night I haven't cried

And baby here's the truth

I'm still in love with you, yeah

That what I really meant to say

I wish I could have told him the truth, but that was impossible. This was hard enough to bear without having to go through the heartbreak all over again. He didn't want children, I did. It was that simple. In spite of all our differences, we had found a true and deep love, but that one difference was the one that ultimately drove us apart.

Especially since it came on the heels of the announcement that he'd fathered that shrew's child. He could be a father to her child, but not to mine. How was I *supposed* to react to a revelation like that?

"Well, good," he said. "I was going to call you . . ."

I looked up into his eyes, and he quickly glanced away. Caught in a lie. I smiled and sighed, "No, you weren't."

"I just -- I only wanted -- Aw, hell, Caroline." He flung his arms into the air and turned from me.

My arms ached to hold him, to tell him it was okay, that I understood, even if I didn't. I stayed still, though, and let him take a moment to collect his thoughts. Finally, he faced me and shook his head.

"I wanted to avoid this," he explained, gesturing to the two of us, awkwardly standing on the street corner.

"I understand." I began to turn away, wanting to pick up my dry cleaning and run away from the pain that was only getting more excruciating with every second in his presence.

"No," he whispered, "I really don't think you do."

I looked back at him, over my shoulder, and was staggered by the clear display of emotion in his eyes. I was about to run to him, to fling my arms around him and comfort him when a loud screech made me jump.

Richard forked a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the bus. "This is my ride," he explained. "I'll talk to you . . . ?"

"Yeah," I agreed, nodding as he walked backward toward the steps of the bus. Again, walking out of my life.

And as you walked away

The echo of my words

Cut just like a knife

Cut so deep it hurt

'Just fine,' echoed through my mind. Why didn't I tell him I was dying without him? Why wasn't I running after the bus, right now, screaming for it to stop so I could climb aboard and throw myself at his feet, begging him to come back? I had to sit down on the curb as I watched the bus round a corner and drive out of sight. There was a searing pain in my stomach and I was finding it hard to breathe.

Dear God, was I really dying without him?

I held back the tears

Held on to my pride and watched you go

I wonder if you'll ever know

Pride. That's what was keeping me from making a total fool out of myself. I didn't want to live with the humiliation if he didn't want me back. The pain started to abate and I noticed I was sobbing. It's a good thing I live in New York City. No one pays much attention to redheaded cartoonists, crying on a street corner.

I think that was the reason I moved here in the first place.

What I really meant to say

Is I'm dying here inside

And I miss you more each day

There's not a night I haven't cried

And baby here's the truth

I'm still in love with you

I stood and dusted myself off, straightening my shirt and wiping my eyes. I was over Richard. I had to be. I wasn't in love with him anymore. I would find someone else, someone that was *really* my 'sincere amore.' Someone that would share my dreams and ambitions, not run away whenever things got tough. Someday, I'd run into Richard again, and be able to hold my head up high and not crumble into a blubbering mess.

Yeah -- right.

What I really meant to say

Is I'm really not that strong

No matter how I try

I'm still holding on

And here's the honest truth

I'm still in love with you

Yeah -- that's what I really meant to say

That's what I really meant to say

That's what I really meant to say