Because

Author: Knowhere

Rating: Pg-13

Disclaimer: Nothing.

AN: A drabble, nothing else.

Summary: Literati. You sit in silence and wonder how different things might have been. Looking back, you're glad that for once in your life, you were brave. AU.

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You look over and see the window; half obscuring the outside world with white shutter slats, and you sigh. Sitting at the desk, the computer unknowingly continues to play soft music as your mind hums with activity. You glance over on the wall and notice the calendar noting the specific date that is today.

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Three years ago you were staring at an altar. All pale white and beautiful, there wasn't another bride who compared. The guests awed and offered their impending congratulations as you passed by, feet hustling their way to the private dressing room. You gulped in air and chalked your fears to pre-wedding jitters. Your mom offered to get you some coffee to calm your nerves and you spiked it to give it that extra punch. She didn't say a word. Not a word. She was silent when you started to drip tears into your bitter coffee. You had traced the edge of the porcelain cup with a newly manicured fingertip. The nail was painted a pale pink to offset all the white, and suddenly you wanted to throw up. Nothing in your stomach, you rushed to the expansive bathroom and your long dress train followed with a swish. She held your hair back and rubbed your shoulders, all the while not uttering a word. She knew what was happening, of course she did, she's your mom. She also knew enough not to say a word.

The taste in your mouth was electric, sharp and cutting. You raised the back of your hand up to your mouth, and saw your reflection in the mirror. Your head tilted at the sight. You were beautiful; no doubt about it, but there was a shadow you never noticed until then. A shadow behind your eyes. There was a time were you remembered seeing nothing but clear blue. That day, you finally noticed a change. How long ago had you stopped seeing joy? Who knew? Why didn't anyone tell you? Would you have even listened?

You sat down directly on the floor and she sat with you. Your mom looked at you with sad eyes, and you knew yours were even more pathetic. You had swallowed and tucked your falling hair. It was up, even though you always imagined it being down around your shoulders on your wedding day. Up was better, they said. And dumbly, you had nodded and listened.

Someone had knocked on the door, and you vaguely heard your mom telling them to give you a moment. She reached across to rub your bare knee, and it brought back memories of your childhood. The time where you had fallen off your new bike with those two big wheels, and you were so scared. Scared because you weren't supposed to have been riding by yourself, and certainly not so far as all the way to the diner. But you were determined to show Luke how big of a girl you were. And you fell and skinned your knee. You peddled slowly back home and she was waiting for you. Seeing your tears she had brought out a cheery Hello Kitty band-aid and placed it on your wound. With her hand on your knee, she told you she loved you and that it was all going to be okay. You were six.

That day, she did it again. Twenty years later, she told you it was still going to be okay. You had nodded and started to cry all over again. Words spilled out of your mouth and everything was set free. You told her how you felt things had changed. It was something you couldn't put your finger on, but you knew things had changed. There was a time when he brought a smile to your face, when his arms offered you a certain comfort. But something has changed. Your kisses had become routine, and excitement was no more. Butterflies no longer settled in your belly as he traced your body with his fingers, and there was no reaction when you would do the same to him. When he had asked you, you said yes because you felt it was time. It was a done deal according to him, the question and ring only a formality. There was a certain expectation of him and you became a part of that equation.

Your mom had listened with a gentle ear, rubbing your back as you fell into her lap with your curls tumbling over your wet cheeks. You had lifted your head and said you had a secret. A secret you hadn't even told Logan. She asked you what it was, and your eyes had dropped in fear of the disappointment you knew was inevitable.

You had whispered that you ran into him again. Purely accidental, but it had happened. It was one month ago. He smiled as you told him you read his new book. You offered to buy him a cup of coffee and he said yes. Somewhere alongside the question of what you were up to, and where you were living, he very nonchalantly asked if he should offer his congratulations. Caught off guard, you asked him what he was referring to. He reached over the table, as it was nothing, and tapped your left ring finger. He joked about how the diamond was so big he was surprised you could even lift your hand. You forced a smile. Telling him the basics of the wedding, day and time, you quickly inquired about where he was living. He let you change the subject and politely refrained from mentioning the wedding again. You noticed, oddly, that his left hand was bare, devoid of a ring, and for some reason your heart soared.

When the coffee was finished, the sun had begun to set. The conversation lulled and you just stared at him. He reciprocated in kind. His voice was gentle and not bitter at all. His eyes were bright and an easy smile graced his features. You smiled back sadly and wondered why he never looked like that when the two of you were together. Out of the blue, he broke the silence and asked only one question. He asked if it was Logan. You nodded and kept your eyes on your lap. When you finally looked up again, you found him emotionless. He asked you why, and for ten minutes you were silent. He waited patiently, but it was obvious he expected an answer. Sick and tired of hiding behind false replies, you bravely said because he had asked. Because you had thought it was time. Because Logan's family expected him to be married. You had rattled off some more reasons, all of them practical. Financial, stability, the white picket fence.

He nodded and looked out the café window. Another five minutes had passed and he turned back to you. His voice was soft, caressing your frayed emotions, and he reached across the table once more and took your small hand into his own. Quietly, he noted, "Of all those reasons, you didn't mention that it was because you love him."

Your eyes had closed as you concentrated on the feeling of his fingers. You nodded. The conversation stopped and he removed his hand. You suddenly became cold and shivered in your seat. He took out his wallet and scribbled his number on the back of his business card. Your fingers traced over the black print that stated only one thing: Jess Mariano. He got up and the chair scraped as he begun to stand. He left enough money on the table to cover the drinks three times over, and gifted you with another charming smile. He nodded to the card and told you to call if you ever needed anything. He stepped away from the table and suddenly bent down and placed his hand on the side of your face. Motionless, you looked up into his warm eyes.

He came close, enough for you to smell the mint of his breath, and he brushed his lips against yours. Once. With his thumb, he traced the apple of your cheek and paused. "Be brave. Do it for the right reasons."

You hadn't bothered to turn to watch his retreat. You knew he wasn't looking back. You stayed at that café for two more hours, absorbing the impact of what had occurred.

As you finished your story on the bathroom floor, you cautiously looked up into your mother's eyes. They were surprisingly gentle and you felt relieved. She nodded and said that you should take that advice.

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The phone jolts you out of your memories, and you get up and lunge for the handset sitting on the countertop.

"Hey." His voice floats over the distance and the sound alone makes you smile.

"Hi."

"What are you up to?"

You look back to the laptop. "Trying to work."

"Oh yeah? Get anything done?"

You trace the counter with a finger. "Nope." Sighing, "What are you doing?"

"Thinking about you."

You smile hearing him so blatantly flirt with you. "What else are you doing?"

"Wishing I was home."

"Can't you leave early today?" You're feeling lonesome.

"I'll try." He pauses. "You doing okay today?"

You smile and notice how he's able to seemingly read your mind. You both know the significance of today. This morning he had woken you up early and as he made love to you, it was the utter gentleness that brought tears to your eyes. "I'm alright. Better, now."

"I'll be home as soon as I can."

"Alright."

The line clicks off and you return the phone back to its rightful home. You stop and notice the glint of your left hand.

You said yes two months ago. It's smaller than the first one you received, but in your opinion, it's more beautiful. It'll be half a year before you put the matching band on his hand, and you can't wait. Neither can he. You told him yes with tears in your eyes but he was already choked up with emotions. You bite your lip thinking about how you said yes for the right reasons.

Because you love him.

Because he says you taught him how to love.

Because he makes you feel safe.

Because he listens when you talk.

Because you always feel like there's a butterfly colony in your stomach when he's around.

Because every kiss he gives you feels like the first time.

Because it feels right when he's inside of you and holds you close.

Because the reasons you give are both practical and emotional.

Because he fills all categories even though it took the both of you years to figure that out.

Because he told you to be brave.

And because you took his advice and started all over again.

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AN: Read? Review.