Title: Listening To Your Heart

Rating: FRT

Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own anything.

Author's Note: Neela one - shot. Sort of a companion prequel to 'Maybe Tomorrow'. When Neela decides to take that first step in getting her relationship back on track with Ray.


Listening To Your Heart

-&-&-&-&-

Pratt opened the door for her, moving to allow her to enter, limping on her crutches.

"Neela, are you sure? I mean I ---"

She cut him off with an abrupt raise of her hand.

"No, Greg, it's fine, it's something I have to do, it's something I need to do."

He nodded. The tone of her voice stopped him from continuing to persist her. "Would you like me to stay?"

She shook her head.

"No, thanks, but I just --- I'll call you when I'm done."

He gave another nod. Ever since her accident he had become more lenient to give her the final say. "Okay. Take your time." he said before retreating back out the door.

"Thanks."

Only after she had heard his footsteps descending down the stairs did she fully allow herself to look around. Look around the apartment that had changed her in so many ways. The apartment that had held the key to a promising future but the one she had turned her back on and left because of complications. Complications? That always seems to get in the way of you, Neela. Never listening to your heart and always following your brain because you thought it was the right thing to do. Thought.

She remembered the night, no actually it was burnt into her brain, haunting her every day and every night about the foolish mistake she had made. "It's for Michael, he's your rock, your soulmate, Ray's just a passing phase. Michael's your other half, you need Michael, you love Michael. You're doing this for your marriage, you're doing Michael." she remembered telling herself. Pfft! What a load of bull crap. Michael was dead bloody two months later because of the freaking war he went away to fight for. The war you had specifically told him not to join. People who love each other listen to what the other one has to say. But did he listen to you? No. He didn't even want to hear your bloody opinion on the whole matter. He had decided and that was the end of the topic. He didn't at all think of her and the consequences of his actions when he didn't return and the feeling that went through her when she got the 12, 000 death beneifit. She remembered the voice that nagged her brain. 'Ray would have listened to you.' Still that night the only thought that was going through her head was that she was betraying her husband, and she had to get out to salvage what ever was left of her marriage and after that everything went downhill.

Michael dying, her feeling guilty over the death of her husband, Ray attempting to comfort her, her pushing him away. The sad look his eyes had everytime she had walked past him, ignoring him. The absoultely shattered looks she had gotten after he had found out about Gates.

Tony Gates. Everyone has one mistake in their lives that they look back on and regret with shame. He was hers. Whatever possessed her to be interested in him was still a mystery to her. Liar, scumbag, cheat, bastard were a few of the words that came to her mind now whenever she thought about him. Sure he had helped her extensively over these past few weeks on her road to recovery but she was never, ever, ever forgiving him for that night. That night. The night of Abby and Luka's wedding. The night that was supposed to be filled with excitement over the prospect of new beginnings. And it was because of that night that Ray got his new beginning. His fateful new beginning. Sure she could blame it all on Gates or even Pratt but the truth was the whole thing was entirely her fault. And hers alone. She had started this whole 'triangle' and it was her fault it had ended so drastically. Katey had been right. There was no one else to blame and she was just going to have live with it. And she was certainly living with it. Not only did it have to do with her getting her own just desserts but she was constantly plagued with that unbearably, sick, digusted feeling inside her that never seemed to go away. And that was why she was her tonight. In a desperate attempt to gain some sanity over all this.

As her eyes surveyed the lounge room, she choked back a sob. Everything looked exactly the same. Like the past year and a half had never happened. Like Ray would soon just walk through that door from his shift and greet her with that famous smirk of his and some sort of smart remark. But that was never going to happen again, was it? And she had been the one to ensure that.

She slowly hobbled over to her old room pushing the door open. Apart from the musty smell she was greeted with everything else was still also the same. Just like she had left it. She felt the soft tear fall down her face and she quickly shut the door. So many memories...

She made her way over to Ray's room slowly inch by inch opening the door. Unlike her room everything was gone. Packed. And you could finally see the floor. Another tear fell as she thought about all the times she yelled at him to clean up the mess. She'd never meant to see it get this clean. Apart from his bed everything was bare and sterile. This was too much. It was unbearable for her.

She sighed. Again, it's you to blame. she reminded herself, remorsely. Before she headed back to her room to pack.

-&-&-&-&-

Finally hours later everyone of the last boxes were packed in Pratt's car downstairs. She stared longingly, taking the last looks ever she was going to get of the apartment. Their apartment.

"Neela, c'mon, let's go." Pratt said in that soothing tone he'd been using lately.

"Yeah..."

She shut the door behind of her. Closing the door to what had started them and what had ended them. As she past the 'Sold' sign plastered, marking itself on the door, she took it in determinely.

There was something she had to do. It was time for her to start a new chapter in her life. It was time for a new beginning. A new beginning where she actually listened to what her heart was telling her. Yes. A new beginning. For her. For him. For them.


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