Forever's a Long Time, But I'll Wait.
It was completely silent except for his slow, painful exhales of breath. He sat in his office at Oceanside Wellness, at his desk, his head buried in his hands, his elbows digging into his thighs. Frustration and anger weighed on his shoulders. Surgery had its risks so anyone who would have one electively were either mocking the gods or possessed a great deal of luck. It was a routine surgery, simple silicone implants into the buttocks, only to have her respiratory system fail halfway through. She was 22 years old. He played it over and over in his mind. Every precaution taken, every attempt to bring her back failing. He had lost her. "I'm getting good at that," he thought to himself.
Addison sat on the couch across from him, her auburn hair still tied up in a bun, her mouth twisted into a wistful frown. Sam, Naomi, Violet, Cooper and Pete stood outside, peering through the window, Charlotte having left to return to the hospital. They had all taken turns to comfort him. Things like this happen. He knew that and if the last six months hadn't been absolute hell for him he would have been more easily able to accept it. Addison knew that, so for a while she said nothing. He was hurting, had been hurting for a while. He had come to LA to escape a shattered heart, bringing with him nothing but clothes to last a week and his wallet which held a few hundred dollars. He tossed his cell during his trip after Derek continued to call, begging him to reconsider. But Derek had a wife, he had the family and friends. He didn't need him there in Seattle. Shepherd would be just fine, unlike his best friend that came to the city in search of a family and thinking he had found it only for it all to dissolve in front of him.
"Have you tried calling her?"
He dropped his hands from his head and glanced up at her before returning his eyes back to the floor.
"You should call her, Mark."
"And why is that?"
"I think it'd help," she answered, knowing that it would in fact help.
She'd known Mark a number of years and had, in all that time, never seen him like this. Defeated. He was one to always bounce back, take the punch and come back up swinging. If he wanted something, he'd go after it and was relentless, making sure to cover all his bases before either gathering his prize or accepting his losses. He came to her, his spirit broken, buoyed only by the reconnection of old friends like herself, Naomi and Sam. The others embraced him too, which was unusual as they weren't usually receptive to newcomers but Mark had always been able to fit in anywhere. She only began to worry when he made no move to hit on his new coworkers nor a single nurse at the hospital.
"She didn't want me, Addison. I don't see how being reminded of that would help anything at all."
To that she had no reply. His blue eyes looked at her as if somehow the next thing she said would heal the wounds, but she remained silent, nothing in her eyes but emphatic sorrow.
"Everyone's going out for drinks," she finally said. "How about we join them?"
Mark only stayed for a couple of rounds. He liked his new friends but Charlotte and Cooper's dueling would only entertain him for so long. He walked barefoot through his single story beach house, his hardwood floors creaking as he passed through the living room, which was still relatively unfurnished save for a couch and coffee table, and entered his kitchen to head to the refrigerator to retrieve a beer. He sat at his bar, tossing the cap onto the granite before taking a sip. He rubbed at his beard, in need of a trim and downed another gulp.
Flashes played in his mind of his patient, young and vibrant with even a bit of a sense of humor. It was her brown eyes that haunted him. She had a brave front but her eyes exposed the bit of insecurity that led her to want the surgery in the first place. She reminded him so much of...
He finished the bottle in attempt to halt the thought, but it came anyway and with it the memory of that night.
"I don't know, Cal. Maybe she's just not the one for you."
They were in his old Seattle apartment, one they had shared when he allowed her to move in after being callously dumped at the airport. She moved about, stuffing her things in a suitcase.
"I mean she just came back. You really think you should move back in with her? Isn't there some things you both need to work through?"
"Yeah. I mean, of course. But we can do that a lot easier if we're together."
He continued to watch her as she gathered this and that, a solid lump in his throat. The past two months had been bliss and now she was slipping again. She held up an old t-shirt. He smiled imagining it on her. He liked whenever she wore his clothes, down to his striped green boxers, which was his favorite on her.
"You don't want this, do you?" She asked, her brown eyes playful. "I think my boobs stretched it out anyway. You should just let me have it."
He smiled as he shook his head. She was incorrigible. "No, I don't want it. You can have it." She could have everything if she wanted.
Her grin widened into a smile as she raced over to him, placing a kiss on his cheek before dodging into the bathroom to gather her toiletry. He continued to stand, watching her, the beat of his heart increasing as every second passed. She was making a mistake and he couldn't figure out just how to get her to see it. She reemerged from bathroom arms full of everything she felt she needed to look beautiful. He had liked her best in the mornings, when not a single one of them were applied. She poured them carelessly in the suitcase, fidgeting with the zipper to get it closed.
"Ok. That's everything. And I guess if it isn't, you're only a hallway away."
He simply nodded. He tried to swallow, but the lump wouldn't bulge.
"Well, say something, Mark."
"What?"
"It's what you do. I attempt to do something with the heart and you say kick ass encouraging words to usher me along. Walk tall. Get yourself back out there. You know, that sort of thing."
It was then that he could see it. She wasn't sure herself that going back was the right thing. In wore in her eyes. The lump disappeared in that moment and he walked up to her, his eyes pleading with hers.
"Don't do it, Callie."
She was taken aback, her eyes blinking as her lips evened out across her face.
"What?"
"She's not the one for you, Callie. She dumped you in the airport and flew to Africa without looking back once."
"She came back, Mark."
"She shouldn't have had to come back. You guys don't even want the same things and I just know that she's going to hurt you again."
She took a step back away from him, confused and disappointed with his words. That was the last thing she wanted to hear.
"So what should I do? I should just give up and be alone for the rest of my life?"
"No!"
"Then why are you doing this? I really just need you to be my friend right now. Tell me that everything will be fine. That it's all going to work out."
"You want me to lie? I won't do that. It won't be fine if you go back to her."
He tried to close the gap between them but Callie continued to keep the distance, walking around him as her anger grew. She couldn't believe what he was saying to her.
"Look, I can see that she loves you. But that isn't enough. She makes you... different."
"How so?"
"She- I don't know, you're not allowed to be as fun."
"So I'm boring?"
"No." He was becoming flustered, the coolness in her eyes slicing him bit by bit. "She just - you're not quite yourself when you're with her. She tries to make you into what she wants you to be."
"A good person?"
"You were already a good person, Callie."
It was her turn to swallow, only her mouth had become dry as her head began to spin. He was just trying to be a good friend, she reasoned. Her last breakup was nasty and he's just being protective. But when she looked back up at him the look in his eyes contradicted her theory.
"If it's a mistake," she began, "I want to know instead of wondering what could have been. I've never had someone come back for me. That has to mean something."
"But you don't deserve someone that comes back. You deserves someone who stays."
The words were sweet and she knew without a doubt that he only meant well for her. For that she was grateful. Her shoulders lowered, her guard along with it, only to be knocked completely off balance by his next words.
"Like me. I love you, Cal. I could make you so happy and I want everything you want. I'd never hurt you that way." His voice was low but emphatic. His blue eyes glassy as he looked at her. "Stay with me."
Of course she didn't. Instead she chalked his words up to just a lonely friend who had began having romantic feelings after they had lived so closely together. But he knew his heart which is why he couldn't and wouldn't stick around to watch the eventual fallout.
A second beer was finished before he noticed several text messages flashing over his new cell. All from Addison and Naomi and the others checking up on him. Sam's offered to come by for another round. They were a good group. Cooky and a little neurotic, but good. LA had been a good move. Nothing like having the ocean in your back yard.
A knock on his door made him rise from his seat at the bar and trot back to his living room. Sam was always dropping by and he enjoyed their little sessions of recalling med school. And unlike Addison, their conversations remained light, allowing laughter at times when he wanted to break.
He inhaled sharply when he opened the door, his breath remaining in his lungs instead of releasing. She stood on the other side, eyes swimming with regret. The light from the moon making her glow in the night. She bit at the corner of her bottom lip before releasing it, the light breeze sweeping her black locks away from her face. She was breathtaking and he struggled breathe, blinking several times to make sure the illusion before him remained.
"Hi, Mark."