A/N: This is not related to my multi-chaptered work-in-progress fic, A Father, First, in any way.
FYI: I was listening to Timbaland's "Apologize (Remix)" while writing this, hence, the title of this fic. Try listening to it while you're reading—it adds to the drama. ;)
APOLOGIZE
Summary: "I'm sorry, Clark," Lois cried, her soft lips just mere centimeters away from his. "I can't wait for you anymore. I'm done waiting. I'm done with you." Then she turned around and left without looking back at the man she loved.
"This...would be a good time to say something," Clark said, his glasses trembling in his hands as he looked at the beautiful woman standing before him. He held his breath, wishing she would utter even a word to him. He swallowed hard, waiting.
Lois looked at the man before him. She had known Clark Kent for many years, worked with him, shared stories with him—God, she even played his wife during that fateful trip to Niagara Falls five years ago! Yet, she looked at him today as if she were looking at a stranger. There was fear, confusion, and anger in her eyes...and then, a single tear fell from her hazel eyes.
The silence was deafening. In the remote quietness atop the Daily Planet building, Clark could clearly hear the sound of Lois heartbeat ringing in his ears. He could hear her shallow breathing, it was slow, and he feared she would run out of breath. He held her gaze, and what he saw next tore his heart apart...a single tear fell from her hazel eyes.
Two days ago
"I know I'm late," Clark said, walking out from behind a thicket of large oak tress and meeting angry Lois on the steps outside Jason's school. "I'm sorry."
Clark fixed his tie and his coat. He looked at Lois uneasily, wondering what was in her mind at the moment. He knew it wasn't something good upon seeing the rage hidden behind Lois' eyes. "You know, Jason might be wondering where we are. We should go—"
"Jason is with his classmates in the auditorium," Lois cut him short. "The school play finished an hour ago. He was very good, he played the brave prince. Mrs. Davidson is just helping the kids change and then they can go home."
Clark's heart sank. His son was a shy kid who never participated much in school activities, and he missed one of the rare occasions that Jason went up on stage. "I'll make him a hearty dinner, then," Clark said, "with all his favorite dishes."
"Jason's sleeping over at his friend Andy's house," Lois replied coldly. "He was upset when he didn't see you in the audience—again. I got him to calm down when I told him he can sleep over at Andy's."
Clark stood in silence.
"What's his favorite food, Clark?" Lois asked.
Clark simply looked up at her, not understanding where she was going with her question.
"What's Jason's favorite food?" Lois asked again.
It then occurred to Clark that he didn't know. He was living with Lois and Jason for almost a year now—ten months, to be exact—and he didn't know what his son loved to eat. "I...I..." Clark began, unable to find the words to say. He took a deep breath. "I don't know, Lois."
Lois shook her head, a look of disbelief evident in her face. She began to walk to her car when Clark grabbed hold of her wrist.
"Lois, this isn't fair," Clark said. "I was halfway around the world! There was a bank robbery in Sydney—in one of the biggest banks in the world, I couldn't just leave it to the cops. They would've been too late."
'Yes, well, try explaining what's fair and what isn't to a five-year-old who just wants his father to watch him for an hour-long school play," Lois spat as she marched to her car.
Clark sighed. Lois hadn't made any movement since he spoke. Her indifference and lack of facial expression was beginning to worry him. He wasn't sure what else to say to her. All he could do was wait.
Last night
Lois looked up from the book she was reading to glance at the blinking red numbers on the digital clock on the bedside table. It read 11:48 PM. "This has gone too far," she muttered, then slammed the book shut and threw it across the room. It didn't hit the floor—instead, it was caught by a pair of large hands.
"You're mad enough to throw your favorite book, huh?" Clark said, holding the book in his hands as he entered the bedroom he and Lois shared.
"I don't want to talk to you, Clark. I'm going to bed." Lois pulled the covers up to her head.
Clark heaved a sigh. He easily pulled down the covers. "We are going to talk, Lois. I don't care if you don't feel like talking. We are going to talk—tonight." They had put off this argument for a long time. It was an issue they had been avoiding since they moved in together.
Lois huffed and stood up from her bed. She closed the door to their room and looked back at Clark, who suddenly looked unsure as he sat up on the bed. "Fine," she said defiantly.
Clark stood his full 6'4" height, his arms crossed on his chest. "I don't know what you want anymore, Lois. I'm sorry."
"Stop. Saying. Sorry," Lois said. "Stop! Just stop!"
"Well what do you want me to say? I know I haven't been there for you and Jason sometimes—"
"'Sometimes', Clark? 'Sometimes'? You haven't been there for us almost always. You're always running off to God-knows-where, trying to be a hero! But what about us? What about Jason?"
"We've talked about this, Lois. You and I both know when we got together that things will be this way."
"Yes, things will be this way—but does it have to be always? Don't get me wrong, Clark. I understand. I get it, you have a job to the world. You're Superman. You're a savior in the eyes of many. But you're also a father in the eyes of a five-year-old boy in this apartment."
"Don't you think I'm not trying, Lois? It's not easy for me to live like this!"
"Neither is it easy for Jason! Damn it, how many school plays have you missed? How many nights have you tucked him in or read him a bedtime story? Do you know he always keeps his window open at night, enduring the cold wind, just to wait until you enter through his window and kiss him good night? But instead, you go directly to bed, or worse, you don't come home."
Pain and guilt crept into Clark's system. He knew it was Lois' anger talking, but he also knew she was right.
Lois continued. "Five years ago, you took away my memories to make me forget about this—this pain—of having to share you to the world. I've accepted that now. But it's not about me this time, Clark. It's about Jason. It's about your son. You can spend five hours helping evacuate people during an earthquake, but is it so hard to spend an hour in the park with your son? The boy just wants his father. He's willing to share you to the world, but he wants you for himself for just a few moments. Why can't you give him that?" There was a tone of pleading in Lois' voice.
"Lois, I..."
"What's his favorite food, Clark?"
"That's not fair, Lois."
"Why isn't it? Because after all this time you still have no idea what he food he likes best?"
Clark didn't answer.
"What's his favorite bedtime story, Clark?"
Clark mumbled, "I don't know, Lois."
"What's his favorite TV show?"
"I don't know, Lois."
"What's his favorite zoo animal?"
"I don't know, Lois."
"What's his favorite—?"
"I don't know, Lois! I don't know! I don't know, okay?" Clark burst out.
"You don't know his favorite food because you're usually called away at dinnertime. You don't know his favorite bedtime story because you never read to him or even say good night to him before you do your nightly rounds. You don't know his favorite TV show because you're always out when he's staying at home. You don't know his favorite zoo animal because you've never taken him to the zoo." Lois paused. "And you call yourself his father."
Lois left the room. She spent the rest of the night sleeping beside her son.
There was a sinking feeling at the pit of Clark's stomach as he looked at Lois' eyes, full of anger and hate. He had never seen her filled with such raging emotions. He didn't like it, he didn't like it at all.
Twenty minutes ago
"What did you want to talk about?" Lois asked as they reached the rooftop of their office building.
Clark did not say a word. He simply grabbed Lois by the waist and held her close. With one hand, he lifted her chin and kissed her deeply. Lois didn't fight back, but she didn't do anything, either. She simply let Clark kiss her.
He broke their kiss and leaned his lips close to her ear. "Wait for me, Lois," he whispered, his voice pleading. "I promise I'll be better. I'll be there for you, for Jason. I was wrong, I was selfish. I put others' needs before yours. Please, please, please wait for me. It won't always be like this."
Lois gently placed her hands on his firm chest and looked up at him. Her bright hazel eyes held his intense cerulean eyes for a long time.
Then she began to step back.
She stepped back—one step, two steps, three steps...
Clark watched her go farther and farther—away from him, away from his touch.
...A single tear fell from her hazel eyes.
"Lois, please..." Clark whispered, his words barely audible. He fell to his knees, but his eyes never left her gaze.
She began to move closer to him. Her steps were unsure, as if she was trying to hold herself back. She knelt before him and she ran a hand through his soft, jet-black hair. Then she cupped his face and pulled it closer to her.
"I'm sorry, Clark," Lois cried, her soft lips just mere centimeters away from his. "I can't wait for you anymore. I'm done waiting." Then she stood up, turned around and left without looking back at the man she loved.