Window Through A Broken Hourglass
He had always been the "good friend". Nothing made him think that things would change now.
She had always been able to get any man she wanted. Only when he was gone for good did she realize how much rejection hurts. She had never been the type of girl who crossed the line. Maybe denying it had just fed the need even more.
He clutches her, his hand locked in her hair. He swears it has never looked so bright, so brilliant, like a warning. She's whispering, serious, telling him they should stop. His brain is screaming, accompanied by a dull ache. But they fall, nonetheless. They're too far in.
"Why, George?" she asks, weakly.
"No." He's not ready to answer.
He doesn't want this to be love, doesn't want to hurt his wife and destroy his marriage beyond redemption. He doesn't want this to simply be sex, doesn't want to be the man who used his best friend to cope when times were rough.
He knows he's lost her forever. And for that, he can never forgive himself.
Without another word, he turns away from her, and no more words are spoken that night. They cling to the hope that by tomorrow, they will finally understand. Tomorrow, maybe things will be easy.
But tomorrow is no easier. She can barely look at him; he can barely speak. It is all too hard to swallow. They have seen the world crumble before, they have survived. But now, for the first time, they are finally and truly alone.
He pulls her hand away from his cheek, scarred by her touch. He is haunted by her smile. It's burned into his mind, a memory he is astounded that he had ever forgotten. Sweet, innocent and loving, unlike anything he had seen from her in his entire life.
He is scared to know that he was the reason for that smile.
She watches him struggle. Silence fills the air once more. He slams the door behind himself. Last week, he had told her she was going to lose a friend. Now she realizes that she has lost so much more…
She had never been insecure. She prided herself on her confidence. But he had chosen Callie. She understands that she should have known better, that hoping, even for a moment, that this could somehow work, was naïve.
She sits alone on her bed, unable to stop the memories from overwhelming her. His scent still lingers on her sheets.
She recalls a time, so long ago, when she lay on the bathroom floor, unable to see past her pain. George had lied there with her, comforting. But now, she only felt numb. There was no room for anger or despair. It was no longer about her. It was about him, and this is not her decision to make.
She only hopes that he understands what that night had meant to her. What it means for them both. That would somehow be enough.
He lies in his bed, his wife next to him, but the warmth of her body beside him just doesn't feel right. He wonders if it will ever feel right again.
And he knows he should be thinking about Callie, but his mind keeps wandering. Back to the words Izzie had spoken to their patient's daughter. Words he had known were meant for him.
He couldn't understand. He wouldn't. He isn't allowed to.
He knows that he will continue seeing the pained look in her eyes. He will never get to see that one smile ever again.
He has lost her forever. And for that, he can never forgive her.