AN: It all started with Damien Rice and it went downhill from there. It seems my muse was not cooperating with me and demanded that I get this out of my system before I write anything for Running to a Stand Still or Missing Pieces. So I blame that wonderful artist for inspiring this story and my muse for well, inspiring the writer.
This is the darkest I've gone. And I am thoroughly expecting some tomatoes…
Also, a forewarning, I tried very much not to mention any other names, aside from Troy's and Gabriella's. For the most part, I was able to do so - with one minor instance where I really had no choice. Which, I know, makes the story confusing but I tried to make it not confusing. So I'm apologizing now.
This has not been proof read so its littered with grammatical errors, I'm sure.
Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Especially not Damien Rice's Delicate.
'We might live like never before
when there's nothin' to give
how can we ask for more?
We might make love in some sacred place
that look on your face is delicate.
So why d'ya fill my sorrow
with the words you've borrowed
from the only place you've known.
Why d'ya sing hallelujah
if it means nothin' to ya.
why d'ya sing with me at all?'
Delicate
the beginning.
'I, Gabriella Montez, take you, Troy Bolton, as my husband, the love of my life. I promise you my undying devotion, my undying support and a love that will last through the trials of the present and the uncertainties of the future. I promise to always love you and be faithful to you forever. I give you my life to keep. I give you my hand to hold. From this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death to us part."
They first met at a silent auction. Both were trying to outbid the other for Claude Monet's La Promenade d'Argenteuil. Both lost to another bidder. Instead of bringing home a prized Impressionist painting, they left with each other's phone numbers.
Two nights later, they met for dinner. A year later, they got engaged. Eight months after their engagement, on the morning of the 21st of June, Troy Jonathan Bolton wed Gabriella Elizabeth Montez in a simple wedding, surrounded by seventy five of their closest family and friends. And as they say, the rest was history.
"I, Troy Bolton, take you, Gabriella Montez, to be my wife. What more can I say to you that I haven't already said? What more can I give to you when everything of me is already yours? But I will promise you this, I will forever cherish you. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will promise to love you and honor you all the days of my life."
~.~.~
He was late again.
It was well after one in the morning when Gabriella woke up and realized that Troy hadn't come home. These late-night meetings were becoming more and more frequent nowadays. And she was getting worried. She laid in bed, his half still empty and stared at the ceiling. Waiting for him. At some point, she fell asleep. She woke up again, an hour later at the sound of footsteps. She slowly opened her eyes, lo and behold, he was home. And when he still hasn't realized she was awake, she decided to make her presence known.
"Don't you have anything to say?"
"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?", without waiting for her answer, her husband continued, "Things are just crazy this week at the office."
She moved to sit up, her back on the bed rest. "You've been coming home later and later. I'm just worried."
Troy looked up and stopped undressing. "I didn't mean to worry you. I'm just - I'm trying. I'm sorry. Work is just so," he suddenly stopped. "… It doesn't really matter. You don't need to hear anymore about my office troubles."
"It matters to me," Gabriella blurted out.
He didn't say anything for awhile. He just started at her and then shook his head. And then he started tell her about his hectic, in such a vivid manner, with so much enthusiasm that Gabriella couldn't help but smile.
She knotted her hands in her lap and watched him. In the back of her mind, she berated herself for thinking pessimistic thoughts. Thoughts along the lines of her husband making love to another woman.
~.~.~
He lifted her skirt up, exposing her long legs, running his hands up the long curves from her calves to her hips.
She closed her eyes as his hands began their slow ascent, reaching its destination at the apex of her thighs. She bit back a moan and set on setting herself more firmly on his office desk. But when he found her entrance with his finger, the moan she was trying vainly to keep back came out. And the more he moved, the more he explored, the tighter her hold on his hair.
Pleasure shuddered within her. Then, he grasped her thigh and parted her legs. And another wave of pleasure spilled down her veins.
"Troy!"
And with the scream, Gabriella was jolted out from her rooted spot. On her place behind one of the many office cubicles, she wiped a single tear away. She didn't even know she was crying. She heard another moan and knew that she couldn't take it anymore. She left as quietly as she came, bringing with her the surprise celebratory dinner she made for him.
Back in the room, the two inhabitants continued on.
~.~.~
"What are you doing?", her friend asked.
Smiling tightly, Gabriella answered with another question. "What?"
"This. Why are you putting up with this sham? He is clearly ch --"
Her fingers tightened around the armrests of the chair. "Don't." She did not need this. Not from her. Not from someone who didn't really understand what she was going through.
"Gabriella. I'm just --", her friend winced, "… worried about you."
'Tell me about it', she thought to herself. She set her jaw and her cinnamon brown eyes narrowed. "I'm fine."
And her friend looked at her with sympathetic eyes and asked again, "Are you really?"
Every fiber of her being screamed "No". But what was another lie in the thousands she has already uttered. "Yes."
If there was a running mantra in her marriage, it was that saying - 'Promises are meant to be broken and lies are meant to be kept'. He broke his promises. She kept her lies.
the end.
"I'm sorry."
His voice came from the bedroom door and out of instinct, her fingers gripped the blanket that surrounded her body, her eyes closed - pretending she was asleep when they both knew she was fully awake. She did not move an inch, afraid to break the tension in the room.
"Gabi," he whispered, "I'm sorry." He did sound repentant.
It hurt too much to speak, to contain the heated words that she wished to say but didn't have the courage to. So she just nodded. Not that it mattered. Not with him anyways. It was just a pretense, was what it was. His plead for forgiveness was so repetitive that it has simply lost all its meaning. He has been asking for forgiveness almost the entire length of their marriage. And after four years, it was getting easier to forgive him. Because after awhile, she just simply grew numb to any feeling. After awhile, she just felt nothing.
"I'll try harder next time," he promised. She knew he was talking about missing her birthday party. But deep inside, she wished he was making that promise for something else. What was left of her sanity, she dreamt it was a promise for a better tomorrow. A promise of changes to come. But they were just foolish dreams. One of the many that never came true.
He laid his head in her lap and without thinking, her hands began to stroke his hair, tenderly, soothingly as if he deserved her kind touch.
"I know, Troy," she said. But even as the words left her mouth, she knew it was just another promise he would eventually break.
Just like he broke her.
~.~.~
"So, it has been a good two weeks since our last session. Tell me about your life."
"Ryan called yesterday. Twice."
And with two sentences, she already started taking notes. "And…"
"A part of me was happy he called."
"Only a part of you? What about the other part?" She prodded. It was what she did best. It was what Gabriella paid her to do.
It took a moment before she could answer. "It was nice talking to someone because I really needed someone to talk to. The kind who will just listen without judgment or unsolicited advice."
In brutal honesty, Gabriella continued, "The kind you could only get from a husband."
A simple "Ah" was her therapist's answer. She continued to jot on her notepad. Of what, Gabriella cannot really fathom.
"So a part of you wishes that your husband is more like Ryan." It wasn't a question.
"No," was her immediate response.
"No?"
Gabriella sighed. "I love my husband." God knows why but she meant it.
Her therapist placed the cap back on her pen and stared at her. "Despite everything he's done, you still love him?"
"It seems pathetic," she began and then paused, trying to formulate her thoughts more clearly, trying to put into words emotions that she can't even understand fully "…I remember him for the man he once was. And I am in love with that man."
"Then you love the memories of the old him. Not the present Troy."
For the first time in a very, very long while, Gabriella smiled. It wasn't a cheerful or melancholy one. More of a rueful smile, the kind of smile a kid will send his mother when he knew he did something wrong. "There are times when I look at him and see the man I married. Times when we just laid in bed and he would softly caress my cheek, just like when we started dating. I know the old Troy is still in there… you get a glimpse every now and then. And I hold onto that memory… that moment where he was still that man with that boyish charm who swept me off my feet. Maybe that's why I stayed in that marriage for as long as I did."
"If you still believed that the man you love is still in there, then why did you start the divorce proceedings?"
Gabriella held her gaze for a long moment. And when her therapist thought she was not going to answer, she murmured, "It took me a very, very long time to realize it but I came to recognize that I love myself more." After an instant, she added, touching her stomach briefly, "I have to love myself more."
Her therapist went back to taking more notes.
~.~.~
"I'm sorry," he began.
It wasn't really surprising. In fact, she was expecting it. Nowadays, a simple 'hello' or a casual greeting has been replaced by those two words, 'I'm sorry'. And she was sick of it. Sick of hearing it. Sick of knowing it meant absolutely nothing. Just words that he expressed to make himself feel better. But those two words - Gabriella soon realized were empty and hollow, worthless and devoid of any true meaning or emotion.
He set his briefcase by the side table on the foyer as he loosened his tie and explained his tardiness. "Late night meeting at the office," he said. It was the usual bullshit he fed her. They both knew it. But she didn't call him out on it.
On his way to the kitchen, he saw the luggage and commented on it. She doesn't move from her place at the staircase. But she answered.
"I'm leaving."
His voice sounded softer. "Oh? Vacation with the girl's?"
"Not exactly" was her muted answer.
He came back, holding onto a mug of what she assumed was coffee. Black. No sugar. He always liked it strong. And bitter.
"I'm leaving," she repeated, this time with more force and certainty.
Troy gave her a bewildered look. "I know."
She shook her head. "No, I mean, I'm leaving for good."
That stopped him. Gabriella can just see the wheels in his brain turning as he digested her bombshell. For the longest time, she never really thought she could do it. The moment she said her "I do's", she has built her whole life around this man. And somewhere along the way, she lost herself. She gave everything, sacrificed so much of her identity and her life to make him happy, to make his life more comfortable. It took something - or someone other than her herself to make her realize that she needed to wake up and start taking care of herself for once. Not him. Not anymore.
"Bu - But you can't leave me," he stuttered.
She met his incredulous gaze. "That's what I thought too." She made a move to grab her bag. He stopped her. Blocked her path.
She didn't let him stop her. She continued on to explain, "Most of my stuff are already gone. The rest, I'll have my mom have pick up."
The mug in his hand shook. Alarm rang in his voice. "Gabriella?"
Clutching tightly onto her duffel bag, she hesitated before affectionately caressing his cheek. "I waited up for you because I wanted to say goodbye."
"You can't just - you're my wife."
"And you're my husband, but look what good that did to us?"
He sounded so broken when he uttered her name again. Her heart was already broken into a million pieces. Each break, one way or another was because of him. And just when she thought she was immune to him, he just had to prove her wrong. Looking at his dejected face, her already broken heart broke some more. She found it funny that despite all the pain and hurt, despite crying herself to sleep for so many nights, he could still make her feel.
She loved him. Even she couldn't deny that. How? Why? Gabriella couldn't explain but she loved him. Still do. But she needed to start loving herself more.
"I can't do this anymore, Troy." And for once, she heard the emptiness in her voice. The grief and ache as she made her declaration. "I love you. But I have nothing else give."
Silence reined.
"You're really leaving?"
"I need to."
"Stay. For us."
She scoffed. "Us? There hasn't been an 'us' for a very long time."
"I'll stop. I was stupid but you can't leave me." Each plea became more desperate. She thought seeing him in pain would make at least ease some of her pain. But it didn't.
"Let's not fool ourselves any longer. I can't share you with your other women. I need to let you go. We need to end this. I need to end this now, while I still have some of my sanity left."
He gave no argument. No more protests.
"Be happy, Troy." She whispered as she gave him one last peck on his cheek. And she meant it.
Before she reached the front door, he whispered, "I love you."
"Sometimes, love just isn't enough anymore."
Gabriella opened the door and left. She never looked back.
~.~.~
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March
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April
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May
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June
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July
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August
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new beginnings.
Troy knew nothing of her life now.
As he sat on the barstool by one end of the restaurant, watching her over the rim of his glass, he knew absolutely nothing about her. Seeing as she was having dinner with her friends tonight, he can guess that she still lived in New York. So he knew one thing about her. And he also knew she was happy. More alive and cheery than he'd remember seeing her. She had every reason to be now that her life was not marred with unhappiness and drama that he brought. He knew very well that she hadn't seen him yet. She was still smiling. And if she had, she would have bolted and ran the opposite way, without looking back. Not that he can blame her.
He still loved her. His actions and his indiscretions during their marriage stated otherwise but throughout it all, he never stopped loving her. Troy cannot really explain why he did what he did. He was once happy. Happy to be her husband. Happy to be with her. But somewhere along the way, she changed. Or maybe it was him. Regardless of who it was, there were moments where her perfection affected him the wrong way.
He always came home to a perfect house. With a perfectly cooked meal waiting for him. Every morning, the second he came out of the bathroom, his clothes were laid out for him. As if he was three years old. But he never complained since he knew it made her happy. But one point or another, it became stifling. And that was when the cheating started. Troy knew it was wrong. He knew it hurt her. Even he can admit that he was an asshole. In the whole entirety of their marriage, he only cheated on her once. He was sure she thought that every 'late night meeting' was another one of his many indiscretions. He knew he should have corrected her assumptions but every single time, something always stopped him. He was so consumed with the guilt that he couldn't bring himself to try and redeem himself in her eyes. So he let her think the worst of him.
But not once did Troy ever think that she was going to leave him. He sounded arrogant but her leaving and the subsequent divorce awakened him. And when he received those divorce papers from her lawyer, it was like a ton of bricks fell on his head. He wanted to fight her, to get her back but after all the shit he has put Gabriella through, letting her go was the least he could do. He owed her that much.
And seeing her now, happy and content, Troy knew he made the right decision.
He took another gulp of his drink, downing the gin. Took one last glance at her. Then, he quietly slipped out of the restaurant, forever ingrained in his memory the image of her smiling face.
Minutes later, Gabriella stood up, emitting a sweet chuckle when her protruding belly inadvertently hit the table. She smiled and affectionately patted her growing stomach. But Troy was already gone to see that.
~.~.~
Next time he saw her was at auction at the height of the holiday season, bidding for a painting of a father and son by Kay Crain. He shyly asked her out for coffee. To catch up. To explain and tell her the complete truth. And to apologize again. She surprisingly agreed.
And as the sun set on the Soho neighborhood, after spending the whole afternoon together, it was safe to say that for both of them, they finally found peace with the past. It was like the past never happened.
"Can you ever truly forgive me?", he asked cautiously, as the day was winding down.
"Truthfully?"
He nodded.
With no hesitation, she answered. "Had you asked me that question months ago, I would have flat out said 'No'. But life has a way of opening your eyes. I can't ever say that I can fully forget what you did. Or completely trust you again…" she bit her lip and gave him a wary smile. "But I can try."
That was all he could ever ask for. It wasn't exactly a beginning of a relationship. They had many more hurdles to overcome. Many more secrets to reveal. But it was a start. And that was all they needed.
~.~.~
It has been said time and time again, 'Promises are meant to be broken and lies are meant to be kept'. It was an adage that gave comfort to the sinners. And in some respects, to those who suffered. It was meant to stifle the spirit of any human being who still believed that being right, being true and virtuous represented absolutely nothing.
Mistakes were made. Promises were indeed broken. And lies were kept. They did not live a fairy tale life. It was not always easy. Trust, at times, was hard to come by. But they had something that allowed them to endure every tribulation and hardship life threw at them. Love. Gabriella once uttered that 'sometimes, love just isn't enough'. And that was true. Love needed work. A lot of it. Love was delicate. Easily breakable. And yes, sometimes, love was never enough to sustain a relationship. But sometimes… it was all they needed to begin one.
Some wondered how she can ever take him back. Some doubted his ability to stay faithful. Some questioned if they can ever truly last. And there were times where they too were unsure of their future. 'Mistakes are a proof you are trying,' Troy once said. And they made a lot of them. They weren't perfect and they weren't trying to be. But to each other, they were enough.
Troy and Gabriella lived with enough trials to keep them fighting, enough happiness to keep them from calling it quits and enough love to make it all worth the pain. Gabriella was asked once if she believed in soul mates. She wasn't the fanciful sort. Never the romantic. How could she be when her husband once cheated on her. But it was that very reason that she said yes. Because how can she ever deny the notion of soul mates, how can she ever explain her now happy marriage and three wonderful kids if Troy wasn't her soul mate, if he was not 'the one'?
This story took on many different pairings and scenarios. At first, Gabriella was the 'other woman' and Troy was in a relationship with Sharpay. But I just couldn't write TS so I abandoned that despite writing a good chunk of it. Then I did a reversal of roles with Troy as the 'other man' and I was all set on running with that but then the lovely Damien Rice just screamed for something darker, more angst-y. So it turned into a story where Troy cheated on Gabriella. This isn't exactly the first time I've explored this type of drama, I did a one-shot One Last Cry awhile back but this is the first that I've really dealt with the complexities of human emotions and relationships that are on the brink of no return. Relationships that are so broken you wonder if there's still a point in salvaging it…
The main reason why I used no other names other than Troy's and Gabriella's was because for the simple reason that I wanted the whole story to be about them. Their friends and the other women remained nameless because at the grand scheme of things, in my opinion, none of them mattered. In the end, it was all up to Troy and Gabriella. And I wanted to emphasize that more by keeping everyone nameless. Also, the original story was more angst-y, you guys weren't going to get a happy ending but I'm a sucker for TG and I'm in a Zan mood so I added and ended Delicate on a more happy note.
Having said all that, yes, this will stay as a one-shot. It's done. Finished. And seeing as I have Running to a Stand Still and Missing Pieces to work on, it will stay a one-shot until Damien inspires me again.
As always, reviews are much appreciated.