TITLE: Someone Like You
AUTHOR: chessqueen
DISCLAIMER: The O.C. is owned by Josh Schwartz and a whole lotta people I don't know over at Fox Television.
SUMMARY: Future fic. It's ten years after high school and Marissa finds herself wondering what her life would have been like had she married Ryan.
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"Marissa Cooper?" she hears someone say from behind her. She turns. Standing before her is Seth Cohen. Though it has been ten years since they graduated from high school, he still looks the same - lanky, dorky, and frenetic.
"Cohen?" she says in disbelief. Though she knows he now lives in San Francisco, she is still surprised to have run into him in a little coffee shop in Pacific Heights.
"In the flesh. What are you doing in San Fran? Shopping?"
Marissa blushes then looks down at her feet. "How did you know?"
"Some things never change."
"Excuse me dude," a blonde guy says as he passes in between Marissa and Seth. The coffee shop is crowded though only a few people have chosen to sit down inside. Most have opted to grab their coffee and walk around outside in the bright sunshine, soaking in the cool breeze off the Bay.
"Would you like to sit down?"
"Sure," Seth says shrugging. Marissa notices the odd look he gives her but says nothing. After purchasing their coffee, they make their way to a small wooden table at the rear of the shop. Even back here, the smell of the Columbian roast and the sound of the coffee grinder are overpowering.
"How is business?" Marissa asks then takes a sip of her mocha cappuccino.
"Business is good," Seth says drawing his hands together in a triangle. He stares pointedly at her. He doesn't quite know what to make of Marissa. "What's up with you? My mom says you and Luke recently bought a house in Newport. That must be exciting for you."
"Not particularly," Marissa says then looks down at her hands. She knows how contemptible Seth finds Newport society. Truthfully, she hates the life of a society wife with its endless parties and charity events in between trips to the spa and the health club. It could be a little much. No, she thinks disdainfully, a lot much.
Marissa shifts uncomfortably in her chair. She studies the framed 1920s Parisian pop art posters on the dingy walls of the coffee shop. It is obvious they are both avoiding talking about him. His presence hangs in the air like the smell of spices in a Moroccan market. "How is he?" she asks.
"He? He who? My dad? He's doing well. Now that he's semi-retired, he gets to surf every day."
"Seth, you know who I'm talking about."
Seth frowns at her and remains silent. They sit trying to avoid looking at each other. Seth's silence is deafening, it is even louder than the clinking of coffee cups against saucers and the thudding of coffee cups against wooden tables. But finally, he breaks it. "He's okay, not that you really care, but thanks for asking."
"What is that suppose to mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean Coop?" He spits 'Coop' out like it's causing a bad taste in his mouth. "He loved you, he still does."
Marissa is stunned. Ryan … still in love ... with her. They'd only gone out for eight months and that was eleven years ago. And, it hadn't been she who had broken up with him; he'd broken up with her.
"Does he still work at the Public Defender's Office?"
"Yeah. My dad is delighted. I own a billion dollar software/video game company but he's more excited about Ryan working as a public defender. But hey, that's my dad," Seth says shaking his head.
Marissa looks down at her watch. "I'd better go, the next flight to LA leaves in an hour."
"Sure. Okay," Seth says then stands up. Marissa stands up as well. "It was nice running into you," he says then hesitantly reaches across the space between them and gives her a half hug.
"Take care," she says then giving him a wan smile. With that, she gathers her bags, turns and walks out of the coffee shop door.
***
Marissa lets herself into her five million dollar white Mediterranean style home with its imported white Italian marble foyer. She then walks over to the intercom and calls "Luke?" No answer. She slowly climbs the stairs to the master bedroom. It is decorated in simple black and white, expensive yet functional, just as Luke likes it. She sits on the edge of the bed with its black silk sheets and black Satin coverlet, slumps over, puts her head in her hands, and begins to cry.
Ryan … still in love … with her. She'd rather not have known. All this time, she has taken comfort in the idea that he despises her. She'd been devastated when he'd broken up with her. She isn't sure what she'd felt for him was love, but there had been a certain kinship between them that had it been nurtured, could possibly have grown into something more.
Marissa wipes her eyes then smiles. She can still remember the night she turned to see this mysterious stranger smoking at the foot of the Cohens' driveway. She'd been instantly drawn to him. After a few misses, they'd finally gotten together. In the beginning, it was perfect, like a dream, like a fairy tale. Marissa can remember it even now – she and Ryan riding his bike along the pier, Ryan making her grill cheese sandwiches, she and Ryan skinny-dipping in the Cohens' pool. Then unexpectedly, he'd broken up with her. After that, they really didn't speak anymore. Ryan went off to USC, and she'd spent two years at UCLA studying art history before dropping out to marry Luke.
Luke. She isn't sure sometimes how she feels about him. He is handsome, wealthy, and he loves her. For this reason and a host of others, she feels she should love him in return. He'd asked her to marry him though she didn't have anything but her love to offer him. Not only that, but he'd bankrolled her father's consulting firm. I owe him so much, she thinks as she stands up and pads into the master bath. Like the foyer, it too is made of imported Italian marble but instead of white, it's black with gold flecks. Marissa bends over the circular imbedded bathtub and turns on the chrome faucets. She grabs a bottle of chamomile bubble bath and pours some under the faucet. She sits, leaning over the edge of the tub, swirling her hand in the water.
Luke. She knows that deep down he isn't as cocky and self-assured as he pretends to be. In spite of his family's wealth, he is insecure and afraid that he doesn't quite measure up. In some ways, he and Ryan are a lot alike.
Once the tub fills with water, Marissa turns the faucet off then stands. She begins stripping off her clothes. She catches a glimpse of herself in a mirror. At times, she still feels like that tortured twenty-year-old girl she'd been when Luke married her but she didn't look the same. But unlike the women she knew who at twenty-eight were rushing off to get Botox injections and tummy tucks, she has decided to grow old gracefully.
Slowly Marissa eases herself into the hot bath, the foam bubbles enveloping her. She sits and inhales the soothing smell of the chamomile. She closes her eyes and imagines she is sixteen again, standing at the foot of her driveway just as a sandy-haired stranger appears at the end of the driveway next door.
"Who are you?" she asks.
"Whomever you want me to be," he says then saunters over.
This thought is immediately replaced by one of Luke jumping on stage at the Hollywood Bowl and proposing to her in front of tens of thousands of people. Luke. It always comes back to him. She loved him once…maybe twice. In a way, she knows she still does. He is the father of her five-year-old daughter Lily after all.
Lily is her greatest accomplishment. If she can raise Lily with a minimum of childhood/adolescent problems/angst, she'd have done her job. With Lily, she is able to experience those things that she'd never experienced with her own mother, things like swimming and walking in the rain, talking and laughing over lunch, enjoying each other's company.
Marissa closes her eyes, sinks deeper into the bath, then sighs. If she hadn't had Lily, would she be more willing to leave Luke for Ryan? Maybe. Maybe not. Suddenly Marissa feels an overwhelming presence in the room. Her eyes fly open and there standing before her is Luke looking down at her, a lascivious smile on his face.
"Hello there," he says then bends down to kiss her. He puts his hands on her shoulders, but then they begin to snake down the side of her arms until they touch the sides of her breasts. The next thing she knows Luke's thumbs are flicking her nipples.
"Luke, don't," she says sitting up.
"Don't what? Touch my beautiful wife? I can't help myself," he says then winks at her.
"Hand me a towel," she says standing up.
Luke goes to a stand in the bathroom and picks up a towel. He makes as if he is going to throw the towel to her but decides not to.
"Luke," Marissa says sternly.
Luke's face clouds over in anger as he hands Marissa the towel. "I have to go out of town on business this weekend."
"Not again," Marissa says stepping out of the tub, wrapping the towel around herself.
"What can I say? This Microsoft case is huge. If I win, I'm set to become the youngest partner in the firm's history."
Marissa wants to say more but doesn't. Besides, what can she say? The money Luke makes from the firm pays for the house they live in, the car she drives, her father's consulting firm, Lily's private school, and her mother's trips to Paris.
***
A month later, Marissa sits alone at her kitchen table. She finds herself increasingly alone lately. Luke is always away on business, and Lily spends a lot of time with Jimmy and Luke's parents. This isn't the life she'd imagined for herself. She'd imagined a house filled with love, with her and Luke laughing, talking, sharing, and making love but they didn't do any of those things much anymore. It is times like these that Marissa catches herself thinking about Ryan. What would her life be like if things had worked out between them? Then an idea hits her and she picks up the cordless phone and dials. After five rings, he finally answers.
"Hello Jimmy Cooper speaking."
"Daddy."
"Marissa sweetheart, how are you? How is Luke?"
"We're both fine. Actually, he's in Seattle working on this Microsoft case."
"Well tell him if he needs any consulting work done to give me a call."
"I will. Daddy, I was hoping you could give me Kirsten Cohen's phone number."
"Sure," Jimmy says. "Are you and Luke looking for a new house already?"
"No, but it doesn't hurt to see what's out there house wise."
"That's true. Real estate is really hot right now and Kirsten's the best."
After Jimmy gives her the number, they talk for a few more minutes then she hangs up the phone.
Marissa begins pacing across the floor. She has never been particularly close to Kirsten and why would she? But if anyone could help her now, it would be Kirsten or Sandy Cohen.
Marissa takes a deep breath then picks up the phone and dials the Cohens' telephone number. On the third ring, a male voice answers.
"Hello, Cohen residence," he says.
Marissa's mind goes blank. It's him.
"Hello? Cohen residence," he says more fervently.
"Sorry. Hello. This is Marissa. Marissa Cooper. Jimmy Cooper's daughter. I was wondering if Mrs. Cohen is there."
There is a pause at the other end of the telephone line. Then she hears him clearing his throat. "Hey Marissa, this is Ryan. Kirsten's out but I can take a message."
"That's okay. I'll call back later. I just had some real estate questions."
"Are you selling your house?"
"No, no. I just wanted to discuss the market. Actually," Marissa stops. Of course, this isn't true. "I called to get your telephone number." She holds her breath waiting for him to respond.
"Really? Do you need a lawyer?"
"No. I just wanted to see you. Catch up on old times."
"I see."
"Do you, Ryan? Do you really?"
"Look Marissa, I don't think that's such a good idea. I don't see the point. You're married to Luke now and I'm not that same boy from Chino, that same forbidden fruit, I was when we were kids."
Marissa remains silent. How could she get him to understand that her feeling for him were real?
"Ryan, I've never stopped thinking about you, wondering what might have been. What if we are meant to be together?"
"As I said before, you're married to Luke now. What about him? I'm sure he wouldn't approve of you calling me."
"You're right, he wouldn't. But what if this is fate?"
"Fate is what you make it, and you've made yours," Ryan says then hangs up the phone.
Marissa slumps into the nearest chair and cries. It's over, she thinks. This was my last chance to see if Ryan and I belong together. She knows now that he is not the one who got away but the one who is irrevocably gone.