The Them that Was
He needed to know. Even if it destroyed his world. He'd recover, eventually. Human beings were a resilient creature. He would bounce back in a new city with a new partner (maybe a man this time). So he would confront this head on and get it out of the way. He'd tried once, spontaneously, at an engagement party. Was halfway through before he realized the inappropriateness of the venue and the audience.
"Hey Mare," They were out back on the patio he had built three years ago. The first permanent fixture he'd ever added to a home. Never seemed like a good idea to add-on to something he wasn't going to stay with for very long, "Do you think there will ever be a time when you look at me and see someone more than a best friend?"
She paused in peeling the label off her beer bottle, smart ass remark on the tip of her tongue, but she thought better of it. He was looking up at the night sky and not at her, which usually meant he was serious.
"Yeah," she admitted . She'd been thinking about it a lot lately, a realization spurred by an accidental confession and accusations flung at her in the heat of battle with Raph. A battle that eventually led to their demise. "I could. I can't right now, but I could."
He nodded because he couldn't find his voice. It wasn't the response he expected. He expected surprise, not the stoic admission that she had thought about a "them" more than the them that already was. So he held his tongue and stared up at the stars, visible out where lived, past the light pollution.
"Ok," he said when words found him again, because they always did, "I can wait for you. I will wait for you." The words sounded cheesy even to his ears, but they needed to be said. He knew she wouldn't hand him false hope. She needed time to get her bearings. Time to wrap her head around this thing he was asking of her.
He started when her hand found his across the space between their chairs. Fingers laced, a companionable silence filled the space as he traced her thumb with his.