Emily and the Art of Losing

E/M, Post "Emily and the Leap"

A/N - My attempt at making sense of the last episode. Would love to hear what you think of it. :)

Disclaimer: Not mine, no infringement intended.

"And there you are on your knees, begging for forgiveness, begging for me.
Just like I always wanted, but I'm so sorry... Now it's too late for you and your white horse to catch me now."
- Taylor Swift


Mistakes are what make us human. They build our character, shape our lives, build us up or knock us down. Sometimes you barely notice the bump they make in the road. And sometimes, they loom as large and inflict as much damage as the iceburg that took out the Titanic. And in the wake of the impact, how do you make sense of it all again? Or can the pieces even be put back together?


For years, Will has been my best friend and partner in crime. We've worked together, studied together, grown into doctors together. I've gladly lived in limbo, waiting for the day when he'd finally see me, choose me, love me.

Will was my fairy tale. Loving him was easy. He was my wish on every birthday candle and falling star, the first person I thought about when I woke up and the last before I fell asleep. He clung to my thoughts like an unshakable shadow on a sunny day. Part of me hated myself for loving him even after he rejected me, for not being able to just let go. The insanity of having hope in the face of all unassailable logic to the contrary.

I thought I had broken free, had started down a new path. I felt for once like I had the power in our relationship, almost threw it in his face how over him I was.

But the truth is, things that deeply rooted don't relinquish the ties that bind you that easily. A couple drinks, the heady idea that the tables have turned, and in the space of a knock at the door, it all washes away until I am a mindless creature, dizzy with happiness, caught up in a rush of excitement and lust.

It doesn't even feel real. This is me. This is Will. My hands, his skin, my skin, his hands. Am I dreaming? How can this be real? Then, no thoughts, just sensation, as it all falls away.

I wake to find us in bed, limbs tangled, listening to the rhythm of Will's even breathing, the heat of his skin as my head rests on his chest.

Oh my God, what have I done? This is not me, I don't just leap into bed. But it's Will. Haven't I wanted this forever?

Oh God, Micah. How could I do this to Micah. What am I going to say to him? To Tyra? And Cassandra. Dear Lord, to lose both the research assistantship and Will to me, she's going to delight in making my life hell.

I can't stay still. The thoughts just keep whirling in my head. I try to inch away from Will without waking him. He mumbles my name sleepily, but I murmur reassuringly that I'll be right back and he nods off. I fumble in the dark, finding my shirt and shorts and tug them on. I tiptoe to the bathroom, down the shadow darkened hall, shut the door behind me, and flip on the light.

I come face to face with myself in the mirror. I stare at myself so long, the shapes and angles break down into nonsense. When I woke up this morning, I was confused but I was still me. Now the whole world has shifted on its axis and I have no idea what happens next.

I lean against the wall and slide down it until I'm sitting on the cold ceramic tile. I hug my knees into my chest.

I wanted this for so long. I wanted this. Didn't I? It was good sex... ok, great sex. And I know it's been a while, and I haven't had that great a track record with men to begin with. But, still, there was something missing.

Will said at the bar that because he couldn't choose between us, Cassandra told him that he had chosen me. But he didn't choose. She did. I want to be some one's first choice, beyond question. Not second place, not the winner by default.

They always say be careful what you wish for, you just might get it. My wishes, they all came true. Just too late to matter. Maybe it was when he rejected me when I confessed my feelings, or when he chose the one person who always tries to tear me down. Maybe it was the moment I let go of him and began to imagine something new, someone new.

Micah. I barely had any time to even process that he kissed me. I was so stunned that I spent most of last night just reeling. Worrying about the implications, the consequences, of what to do next. Talking with him in the records room today was the most confusing and at the same time oddly comforting moment. Possibility and pitfalls all wrapped up in this hopeful, tingly feeling starting to grow in my heart.

But later, standing there feeling completely exposed and vulnerable as he chose Cassandra for the triple A repair, I began to second guess what I had felt. I can't make the same mistakes I've seen my mother make a thousand times. I can't jeopardize my career over something that I've barely begun to let myself consider as a reality.

In that moment, I wanted to run. I wanted to find a quiet place to stand, where the earth was solid under my feet, and just sort it all out. But life doesn't slow down for anything, let alone existential crises.

None of that explains why I'm sitting on a cold floor while there is an amazing man in my bed. Why I know that this night with Will was not right, that I've made a colossal mistake. It feels like a fever's broken. Like my mind is finally clear. That thing that was missing? My heart truly being in it.

I eventually crawl back into bed, without Will noticing my absence. I fall asleep for a few short, merciful hours, but nothing stops the sun's inevitable rising.

My alarm wakes us up. "Hey," says Will in a voice slightly roughened by sleep. He runs his hand across my cheek as we lie facing each other. He looks younger, and more vulnerable without his glasses. He leans in and kisses me softly. "Guess we should get up, wouldn't want to be late for rounds."

"Will", I start.

"I know, we'll need to make some adjustments, and we'll need to be discrete because of Cassandra, but it'll be ok."

"Will, you don't understand."

"Understand what?" He sits up.

"This can't happen again. This was a mistake"

"I know I took too long to figure it out, that I surprised you by showing up like I did, but this wasn't a mistake, Emily. We belong together."

"No," I say firmly. Keep it togther, you can do this. "Will, I love you, but I'm not in love with you. This was amazing, but we can't do this again."

"Why? Is this because of Micah? You know that he's all wrong for you," interrupts Will.

"No, this is because of me. I made a mistake, I didn't think this through."

"Emily, you belong with me, you make me a better person. You'll see I'm right once you think this through."

I've had about all I can conceivably bear for the last day and a half. I sigh wearily. "Will, you better get going before Tyra gets home and we're all late for rounds."

"Em," he says as he gets out of bed and starts to get dressed, "I'll go, but we'll talk about this again later."

"Ok," I concede, half to get him out of the apartment and half from exhaustion.

He kisses me at the door, and I manage to shower and grab a bowl of cereal before Tyra turns the key in the front lock.

She takes one look at me, and her eyes wander to the tangle of bedsheets visible through my bedroom door. "Did you finally get laid?" she chortles with glee in her eyes. "Way to go, Owens. Is Micah still here?"

"Oh, Tyra," I sigh putting my head in my hands, "You have no idea how screwed I am."


I get to work, but there's barely enough time to change into my scrubs and lab coat before rounds. Micah smiles at me for a split second before he's remembered his promise and is all business. Will is behind me, but has evidently decided to bide his time for the moment. By the end, we're all off with different patients and too busy to stop and think.

When I finally get a second to myself, I go outside to clear my head and grab a cup of coffee. I wrap my coat around me a little tighter against the cold wind, and sit on the bench.

I have to tell Micah. I can't risk Will letting it slip, accidently-on-purpose. He deserves to hear it from me.

Before I lose my nerve, I text Micah. "Meet me in the records room 11:30. Need 2 talk"

I hear the soft chime in response almost immediately. "Ok. See you soon"

My stomach twists into knots. I wish could run far enough or fast enough to break free of what I feel. I throw my empty coffee cup in the trash and head back in to face the music.


I stare at the shelves of files, wondering if this is the beginning of the end of my career. Maybe I can transfer my internship somewhere else.

Micah's voice catches me mid-reverie.

"Hey, sorry I'm late, AJ caught me in the hall." He says. "What's so important to bring us back here again so soon? Not that I don't enjoy the ambience, but I know we can do better than this. In fact, I think I've figured out where to take you on our date."

"Micah, I.. I don't know how to say this," I start.

"Emily, it's ok. I know you have doubts about this, but we'll figure out how to deal with work one step at a time." He reaches out and takes my hands, his thumb stroking the back of my one hand comfortingly. He smiles at me warmly, his heart on his sleeve, a spark of joy dancing in his eyes. I see it there, all of the things I've been blind to for so many weeks, and it only makes the next sentence that much harder. I gently tug my hands away, my gaze drifting to the floor.

"Hey, hey, Emily, what's wrong?" Micah's voice shifts to concern, and he tips my chin up to meet his gaze.

"I slept with Will." Oh, God, why did I just blurt that out. A thousand ways to soften the blow, and that's what comes out of my mouth?

He steps back. I can see him reeling, not comprehending, then the moment the blow hits him, and the immediate pain in his eyes.

"Micah"

"How? When?"

"Last night, I went to the bar. Will was there. He had just broken up with Cassandra, so I stopped to talk. But he told me that he had been jealous of us all day. That it was lousy timing, but that he realized that he had feelings for me. I told him that I had to leave and went home," I choked out slowly. "But he showed up at my apartment later. I thought I had gotten over him, I thought I had. But it all came flooding back."

Silence. I reach out to touch him, but he pulls inward, wrapping his arms around his middle. My heart breaks.

"I'm so sorry, Micah. The last thing I meant to do was hurt you. You mean so much to me."

"Yeah, right," he says sarcastically. "So much that you couldn't wait to sleep with Will the second he deigned to notice you." He paces and the look on his face, equal parts anger and pain, is enough to make me want to crawl under a rock and never come out again. "God, Emily. I thought we were on the same page, I thought we had started something special, and then you just go and throw it all away without a second thought." His pager goes off. "I've got to go."

"Micah, please forgive me."

He shakes his head, still in shock, disbelief. "I can't do this now."

And like that he's gone and the door to the records room shuts with a hollow click.

I lay down on the floor, my heart a knot of pain and despair. I feel the loss of Micah to my core. Like an empty space in my heart that I didn't even know was there until it was gone. And then I know. All the motions I had gone through in the last two days, all the flirting that had never had the time to sink in and ring true, all the bright little moments from the last five months, they all suddenly hit home. Something precious digs in and roots itself somewhere deep and immovable in my heart.

He's my best friend, the one that I tell my secrets to, the one I want when I'm lonely and afraid. He's Micah. And I'm in love with him. What have I done? How could I have screwed everything up so completely?


Some doors in life are only open until they shut. And once they do, there's no going back. It's a frightening lesson to learn, but timing is everything. And in some things, you only get one chance.

In medicine, we can't always put broken things back together. We can reassemble them, but that spark, that thing that makes us human and whole is more fragile than we can imagine. But sometimes if we're lucky, we can mend the damage and find a way to put things back to rights.

When it comes to matters of the heart, we can pray for a miracle, for a second chance to begin again. We can decide to fight for the essential things. And we can only hope that time and tide may be enough to open the right door again.