A/N: This story is written in a rather short chapter format. Read and review.
Chapter One
The apartment was quiet and the sky grey with the predawn light when Cristina woke up. She was alone, completely alone and everything was so quiet. It gave her time to think. She had told Burke exactly what she wanted last night and he had accepted it. They were okay and she, Cristina Yang was happy.
She smiled to herself and went to get ready for work. Even when she was making coffee, she was still smiling. It was an odd feeling, this happiness and contentment, especially so early in the morning. But she had Burke and that's what mattered.
"C"
I had an early surgery. I'll see you at the hospital.
Love you,
"B"
It was written on a sticky note attached to her favorite coffee cup. She was tempted to write one back to him, but Cristina Yang didn't do that cutesy, gag-me stuff even if she was living with someone, marrying someone…loving someone.
She peeled the note off her cup and looked around furtively, though she knew full and well that no one was there. She headed toward one of the little-used rooms where she had stacked her boxes from the old apartment. They were full of her mother's furniture and the various knick-knacks that she had purchased when she decorated her miserable daughter's apartment.
The box was in the back, the third one down in the stack furthest from the door. She carefully pulled it out. Inside was a box that her father had made with lacquered wood. Cristina pulled out the musical notes scrub cap out and placed the post it note in along with all the others Burke had given her. They were in chronological order, the only organized items she had. Burke didn't know about it and she'd never tell him. She could imagine his cocky smirk now and that eyebrow raise now.
The first time Cristina received a note, she had just tossed it to the side and then eventually it had become a pile of notes. When she had moved, she had placed them in the box because by then she had kept so many so why not continue? She blamed this practice on Barbie and Bambi; their sensitivity was toxic. But the notes Iwere/I nice mementos.
Replacing the container back into the bottom of the cardboard box, she covered it with some of the throw pillows her mother had insisted she have. She reinserted the box into the stack and left the room. Grinning again, she grabbed her helmet to leave. This smiling thing was so weird, she felt like Barbie practically.
The ride to work had the same peace she had felt in the apartment. The sun was barely rising when she arrived. She breathed a satisfied sigh, maybe today she would get to scrub in on a cool surgery or maybe even two if she was lucky.
When she walked into the hospital, Cristina remembered there was a reason for her being who she was. Nothing in her life was ever easy.