'From the way we often are, from the hotel to the bar and the last time we saw each other cry...'
No one would really ever understand, that's why they'd kept it quiet for so long. Kept their relationship a secret. In all honesty, they preferred it like that. Their private life could remain private and no one would interfere. Even if they knew it couldn't last forever. But they were happy, they had each other and in that moment they didn't need anyone else. They both had a somewhat sense of paranoia about it all, that the moment others got involved it would all come crumbling down. The safety and comfort of the bubble they'd formed around them would be destroyed. And then what? Where would that leave them? Would they survive others finding out?
That's why they would get away any time they had a chance. Any opportunity to get away from it all. Just driving until they were far enough away. Till they were somewhere no one would know who they were. Because somewhere in the back of their minds their fears of the inevitable would eat away at them and it was almost too much. The fear almost pulled them apart before they'd even started...
'From the last time when we cried to the next when we decide we should just let each other pass us by...'
Letting go, in the end, was simultaneously the hardest and easiest decision they'd ever made. Because even though they didn't want to let go of each other, they knew they had to. It wasn't what they wanted, but they couldn't carry on as they were. They'd fallen into this void, this point of no return and they couldn't see any other way out of it. Typical, they spent their lives fixing other people but they couldn't even begin to fix themselves. They used to bask in the familiarity and comfort of each other and now they looked at each other like they were strangers. And it was unbearable, it really was. In the end, they had come to a conclusion - sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same...and sometimes that can mean goodbye. However hard that may be to accept.
Neither of them could pinpoint the moment in their relationship where things had started to fall apart. It seemed to happen gradually and all at once. Like they were glass, so fragile. At first small cracks had begun to appear and they'd desperately tried to fix them, but suddenly there were too many and one day they shattered into a thousand pieces, destroying the both of them in the process.
They could spend hours blaming each other, weighing up who's fault it really was. But they'd spent long enough passing the blame. They'd had too many arguments, far too many. Even though letting go was the hardest decision they had to make, they both knew they couldn't carry on the way they were. They knew that they'd end up hating each other in the end and neither could bear that, even if they didn't realise it at the time.
'From the way we used to be, to the state of you and me. From the times we hurt each other trying...'
The cracks in their relationship had been easier to try and fix in the beginning. Even in the early stages of their marriage they'd been easier to deal with. They'd argue, get it out of their system, but then they would fall back together, picking up the pieces as they went. And they'd almost be closer than they were before and they would cling to that. She'd clung to him, the one person who made her feel completely safe. And he had clung to her, the only person who had ever cared enough to stay. And whenever they hurt each other they seemed to recover - until the next time. But then the cracks had become too much to handle and they had shattered.
Was it him choosing to drink away the dark thoughts circling his mind rather than talking to his wife? Or was it her having an affair in a desperate attempt to make him fight for her? Whatever the catalyst, they'd both hurt each other, pushed each other to breaking point. Neither of them were angels. They'd become too broken to be put back together. Maybe they just needed to start over?
'From the stars up in the sky. We should know now, you and I, just to leave this love alone or watch it dying...'
There was a memory that she often thought about from when they were first together. Walking together at night for what seemed like forever, stars dotting the sky above them. That night had followed one of the lowest days in her career to that point. Where she'd been so close to giving up. She'd tried to push him away and somehow he'd simply drawn her in even closer. He was usually quiet in public, even if it was just the two of them. And she had relaxed into that comfortable silence as they walked, allowing all the thoughts that had been swirling around in her mind to fade. She couldn't remember if she ever thanked him for that, for keeping her sane.
When she ended up back at Holby after everything, seeing him again had thoroughly messed with her head. She had enough going on in her life without having him making things worse. And yet she was still glad to see him. Because it was clear that although he was somewhat annoyed and not over the moon about seeing her, he did still care about her. Enough to help her when she needed him. The way he always had done. And she felt safe again.
They'd developed an unspoken agreement to try and avoid each other, even if she so desperately wanted to speak to him. She told herself that she'd lost the right to his friendship a long time ago and tried to get on with the job she now found herself doing. They were a long time ago and it had taken so much that as normal as it might have seemed for them to become friends, they both thought it best if they left well alone - even if they did still care.
'From the way we often were and the healing of the hurt and the time it takes to find the understanding...'
They spent a lot of the time avoiding each other. They tried to stay out of each other's way but failed to turn a blind eye to each other completely.
She noticed a change in him, like something was wrong and she couldn't for the life of her think what it was. Once they had been so close and now it was like she hardly knew him at all. Maybe she had never really known him. No, that wasn't fair. She had done. But they drifted, became distant and she had been away so often that she had missed out on a lot. She watched him sometimes as he moved across the ED. She'd just about build enough confidence to ask him if he was okay when she'd suddenly lose it and shrink away, choosing to say nothing at all.
Her return had confused him, baffled him. And since then he knew very little of it and he wouldn't ask. It wasn't any of his business, he had enough problems of his own. Even if he was concerned. He doubted she would tell him. That was why he avoided asking her if she was okay. Because she would always appear so confident and blasé about everything but when she thought no one was looking, a sadness seemed to pass over her. He saw it, but he always told himself, it was none of his business. Her life was her own and he was no longer part of it.
So neither would say anything, simply choosing to observe each other suffering in silence from a distance, promising themselves that they would say something if they thought things had gotten worse. They may not be on the best terms but they had been something once. That doesn't just get erased because its over. They could let go. Move on. Change. Heal. But they couldn't forget.
'But it's how things often are from the hotel to the bar and the marriage I swore I'd take your hand in - I'm gonna love you, though I don't know how to...'
She didn't know what pushed her to ask him to meet her. Maybe one long day too many. Nor did she know why she was even bothering to go when he had stated quite clearly he wasn't interested in speaking to her. She just hoped he would change his mind. As she approached the location she felt her heart sink. He wasn't there. Not that she really expected him to be but then...
"Of all the reckless things you've done in your time, walking around at night in March in the snow without a proper coat is probably near the top of the list."
She turned on her heels, meeting his gaze "You weren't coming..."
"And yet you're here."
"What changed your mind?"
He shrugged. She hadn't really expected much by way of explanation but felt she had to ask either way.
Unable to stand still in the now awkward silence she gestured for them to start walking and he followed. He said very little as she started talking about work and all that came with it. He gave his input every now and then, usually to grumble about a patient she had brought in who had annoyed him. A smile tugged at her lips as she heard him speak, just for a fleeting moment it was like old times.
They came to a stop without really saying anything, there was a question hanging in the air that she wanted to ask. He could sense it.
"Do you ever wish that we could be strangers again?" She asked and he looked at her, not understanding. "Not so we could forget everything, forget each other. But so we could start again, with the hindsight of what we know now."
"I don't think that's how hindsight works." He said solemnly, looking down, not really liking where this conversation was heading. When he finally dared to look at her again he saw the tears running silently down her face. "You're crying."
"Good observation." She looked away from him, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
"Why are you crying?"
She snapped back to look at him suddenly. "I'm crying because I'm sad. I'm crying because I'm angry. I'm crying because you don't seem to realise if I could go back and change things I would... I'm crying because I still..." She stopped herself. "Doesn't matter..."
Silence fell between them and she regretted asking him. She wished he had stood her up. She wished she had stayed at home. This was a bad idea. All she had done was make things worse.
"I'm sorry..." he said after a while, surprising her.
"What for?"
"I don't really know, it just seemed the safest thing to say..."
She laughed hiding her face in her hands. "Look at us...who would have thought it would come to this?"
"Not us..."
"Maybe we were naive."
"Maybe we had to be."