Reminiscence

Author: Oro

Rating: PG-13

Fandom: The West Wing

Characters: Toby Ziegler, CJ Cregg (in spirit)

Disclaimer: Not mine. Wouldn't that be nice, though?

Author's notes: 'Twas morning. I was bored. This is it. Would like to thank Dan, for making me feel better about the story. Would also like to thank Molly and Cim the Ghetto Princess for beta-ing all of my morning and other silly typos and grammatical errors out. Beta-ing them out. Yes.

FEEDBACK

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On the day that was supposed to mark their anniversary, he comes home to an empty apartment. He opens a carton of apple juice and pours it into a glass. It isn't until he is sitting on the sofa, loosening his tie, that he remembers what he has been trying to forget the entire day. That feeling of loneliness, of knowing that he could've drunk the juice right out of the carton because nobody cared whether or not he did that, hits him. And he sighs, even though he was expecting that feeling. It was the same feeling as it had been every year, and he should've gotten used to it, except he hasn't.

He had been used to living with someone, which is why it was so hard for him, being thrown back into constant loneliness. He was used to having someone to remind him to throw out the trash, and to lean over his shoulder to kiss him while he was writing. The first couple of months, it bothered him, not having that presence around anymore. He disliked the change; it was hard for him to get used to living with someone in the first place, and when that went down the drain, it was hard to go back to his previous state. And he did, eventually.

He thinks about that night, when they finally decided that everything had to end. He remembers how they had tried, and how they were both sure they'd make it work that particular night. He remembers every detail about the hotel room they were in. He remembers the crack on the bedside lamp whose light reflected in her eyes.

Making love had been the easy part of their relationship; they knew each other so well, and had both grown so well accustomed to each other's bodies, and rhythm. He knew what he needed to do, and he did it. So did she. Things never seemed monotonous to either of them, which left a handful of sweet memories to them both, even years later. That night, however, listening to her repeating his name, he couldn't help but think of someone else. He touched her and he moaned just as expected, but he did it all for another woman. And he knew it was all over between them.

He was willing to give everything up. Not just for the woman whose name and smile sometimes occurred in his dreams, when his guard was off. He was tired. He was so, so tired of trying to make everything work when it quite obviously wasn't. And so, he gave up. They both did.

Unbuttoning his shirt, he knows that things are better for him now. His thoughts of the other woman are no longer of the forbidden kind, and it's been years since he'd tried making things work between himself and his former wife. He knows, though, that he is a coward. He knows he didn't do everything in his power back then; he's learnt to accept that over the years.

He also knows that it's been years since that night and he still has the same woman on his mind.

FIN