We sacrifice. We surrender everything for the ones we love sometimes, sometimes the sacrifice - the suicidal pact - burns, damages and if deep enough can break a person. Yet, we do not heed warning, we miss all the road signs, blinded by blond curls and hopes, aspirations for what could be. We do not see past the rose tinted bubble that we live in, we do not see that we are in fact playing roulette. The brunette who sat in her office, huddled over her desk, her steady hands trembling. She had played. And lost.
The blond woman she had sacrificed everything for, had watched her fall as she abandoned her in the airport. The blonde that had once held her in her arms, fastened the straps of the brunettes straight- jacket. She had won, she had destroyed Calliope Torres and without a second glance.
The Ortho surgeon was now left to pick up the pieces, like the bone fragments she repaired, she had to pick up the pieces of her life and be condemned. She sat in her office at the same time every night, it was her sanctuary. No one could see her tears, her anger, her resentment for everyone around her. She allowed herself to cry so that she could cut, mend and repair lives even if she couldn't fix her own.
Her pager beeped as she stepped outside her office.
" Dr. Torrez, Smith to Chief's Office."
Tuesday, Day 64.
The blonde crossed off another door on her small calendar, the only item she had found the energy to unpack. It almost felt like if she didn't unpack she wasn't there, the small taste of denial was bittersweet. " 1029 Days" she whispered falling back onto the bed. Her pink, sunburned skin glistened with tears. 1029 days without doughnuts, a hot bath and her, the woman who has captivated her mind ever since she had arrived in Seattle Grace. Her girlf- her ex girlfriend, she thought her trembling fingers covering her eyes.
She had lied, pushed the most important thing out of life. Callie would of resented her, hated her if she hadn't pushed her away, that's what she told herself at least.
Arizona would fulfil her oath as a surgeon. She would live through the searing pain and save lives, countless lives as she watched her own fade away. Knowing that she could do nothing to stop it. There was no procedure, no surgical choice, nothing, it was a tiny, inoperable tumour that lay dormant in the base of her mind. Acknowledged but never spoken of. She was Arizona Robbins, the woman who abandoned her amazing girlfriend in an airport without even a second glance. She had played. And lost.
Callie held the letter in her hand, the brown envelope discarded on the table. Her eyes traced the dotted line at the bottom. She took a mouthful from the bottle of tequila in her hand and sat it down on the coffee table.
She signed the letter. She was going to rebuild herself, at least that's what she hoped.