This story is a little bit of a different style for me. Almost pseudo-stream of consciousness. Usually it takes me ages to write, and re-write, and try to get things absolutely perfect and make sure every sentence flows beautifully, but this story just...kind of happened.
I hope you like it. Comments, as always, are appreciated.
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At first I think I'm seeing things.
I run into Callie in the attendings' break room, nearly walking into her as she makes her way toward the door, coffee cup in one hand, phone in the other, totally zoned out from the world. She apologizes, a little flustered in the way she always gets when she's deeply distracted, and shoots me a smile before making her way out the door.
The glint of silver along her neckline makes me pause, but she's gone so quickly it could have been anything. It was probably nothing.
I watch her retreating form down the hall though, a soft sigh threatening to fall from my chest.
It's probably just this time of year.
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I was never much into Valentine's Day, truthfully. Sure, I love that it's a holiday about, well, love. I have a romantic streak. I like chocolate, and flowers, and things that are pretty and pink and sparkly. But I always felt like every day should be Valentine's Day - because shouldn't we show the people we love how much they mean to us all the time?
Not that I'd been very good at that, as it turned out.
Callie loved the heart-filled, Hallmark holiday, though, and because Callie loved it, I'd come to love it as well. Her excitement was infectious - she was adorable, and sweet, and every February I'd happily let myself be swept into it because I was so in love with her, and anything that made her happy automatically made me happy too.
I am. I am so in love with her. That hasn't changed.
My fingers automatically reach up and linger along the v-neck of my scrub top, searching for something that's no longer there - as they so often do when I think of my ex-wife.
I let my hand drop to my lap, looking down to focus on the file in front of me.
It's a stupid holiday.
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My eyes have to be playing tricks on me, for the second time today.
I'm tired, and under-caffeinated, and this day is clearly weighing far too heavily on my mind. I've got to stop thinking about her.
But as I watch from the gallery the orthopedic surgeon bends over her patient, and a slight glimmer catches the light from a pendant around her neck. Its shape is indistinguishable from up here; it could be anything. It's probably the tiny diamond her father gave her. Or the circle pendant she wore constantly when I first met her.
It's nothing.
She glances up briefly, her eyes seeming to smile just a touch behind her mask before she concentrates on her work again, and I look around to see mostly empty seats with only a few other residents there to observe.
I wonder what she's thinking.
I wonder what her plans are tonight.
I know her and Penny aren't together anymore - haven't been for two or three months, at least. I've heard the red-haired doctor is seeing another one of the interns now, one of her peers, although how she moved on so quickly from Callie I'll never know.
You don't move on quickly from a woman like Callie.
It's nearly impossible to move on from a woman like Callie. No matter how long it's been.
I watch her again, watching the way she runs her OR with ease, with a confidence that has always come naturally to her; a confidence that makes her absolutely captivating. I vaguely wonder if Penny also has a memento of their time together stashed in the bottom of a jewelry box, or tossed into the back of a drawer somewhere. A heart pendant, nestled in a velvet box that she can barely stand to open.
A heart pendant given exactly seven years ago today, and only taken off once.
Well. Twice, now. Maybe I'll give it to Sofia when she's older – she always loved playing with it.
I push myself up and grab my lab coat, glancing down into the OR once more before I turn and head off to check my patient from this morning.
Sleepless in Seattle. That's what I'll do tonight. Sofia is having a sleepover with Meredith and her kids, so I'll order pizza, pick up some chocolate, and watch what's always been my favourite romantic comedy.
That its title is aptly fitting these days does not escape me.
I choose to ignore it.
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Right now, I know my eyes are actually seeing what's in front of them - but I still can't believe they're right.
The doorbell rang soon after I'd gotten changed into pajamas - some worn sweats and a comfy, soft old henley - and I grab some cash from my wallet and pull the door open, ready to generously tip the speedy delivery boy.
But it isn't pizza waiting on my front porch.
It's Callie.
A bouquet of perfect red roses are nestled in the crook of her arm, and a gift bag with the signature gold logo of my favourite chocolate store is hanging from her fingers. She's quiet at first, her eyes, when I meet them, displaying a myriad of emotions ranging from nervousness to fear to something that I can't quite place.
"Callie?"
I break the silence, her name falling from my lips in genuine confusion, and immediately the spell is broken and the brunette begins to speak.
"I know I have no right to be here. Today of all days - any day, probably - but I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I've...I keep trying to find a way to talk to you again, to find some excuse...but I keep chickening out."
She pauses then, taking a nervous breath, the delicate paper surrounding the flowers crinkling ever so slightly.
"I know that you and I...we're not the same people we were seven years ago. Two years ago, even. We're...I mean it's like we're barely even friends some days, which I hate, and we don't talk much and I don't really know what's going on with you-"
She cuts off suddenly, dark eyes going wide.
"Oh my god. Do you have a date tonight? I didn't even-I should have-"
"No."
My answer comes simply and quietly, and she lets out a sigh, although clearly still mentally berating herself.
"I just..."
She looks down, motioning to the roses and the chocolates, and then looks at me again.
"This isn't much, but it's Valentine's Day. And it's romantic. And we used to love this day. And so I thought maybe today could be the right time..." she pauses again, her eyes flitting nervously to mine, "to ask if we can try again."
There isn't a word for the feeling that's coursing through my body. For the stunned, stumbling beat of my heart as her voice fill the space between us. I hold her gaze for a moment before my eyes drift downward, and there I see it - again.
For the third time today. For real.
"I want to try again, Arizona. I want to be with you. I don't think...I never fell out of love with you, not really," she lowers her voice to almost a whisper, almost a plea - heartfelt and honest, "but I do know that I am falling in love all over again. The person I am now – the person you are, now – I...I know we would be good together. And I don't know if I stand a chance or if I even deserve one, but I think we'd be worth a shot. So I'm here. And I'm hoping that maybe you'd like to spend the evening with me. And start over."
I reach out, taking a step closer over the threshold of the door, and gently run my fingers over the white gold heart laying against her skin.
"You want to start again."
It's a statement, not a question when I voice it, and I finger the pendant lightly as I look up to meet her eyes again.
"Are you sure about that?"
Dark eyes gaze into mine and she tilts her head ever so subtly, her body shifting just a fraction closer as if a magnetized force is pulling her. I don't think Callie has ever looked so certain of anything in her life.
"I'm sure. It's you and me, Arizona. It's always been you and me."
I feel the smile blooming in my chest before it even reaches my face, and as my lips curve upwards her eyes light up with the most beautiful look.
"For the last time, okay? This is it. You and me, Calliope."
I let my fingers reach up to trace along her jaw, and my smile broadens at the familiar softness of her skin. I'd missed her so much.
And now she's here. And she's different...but yet so wholly the same.
And I'm different too. And somehow in my gut, I know we're going to be different together this time. We're going to be better. Even more amazing.
"This is it."
"I ordered pizza. Do you want to come in?"
She grins then - and it lights up the dark better than any of the streetlights ever could.
"I'd love to. And these are for you."
Holding out the roses and the chocolates, she blushes ever so slightly as I lean up to kiss her cheek.
"Oh, and!"
She slips her hand into her purse as I take the bouquet and pulls out a DVD - and I can't help but laugh. One of the few films we'd both owned when we moved in together.
Sleepless in Seattle.
"It's your favourite."
"It is."
Callie reaches up and gently tucks some hair behind my ear, her hand lingering along my cheek, her thumb ever so lightly tracing the line of my jaw. I lean into her touch, almost instinctively, and it feels...like coming home.
I'm not angry. I'm not bitter. I'm not upset that it took us this long.
There's a whole host of things I think I should probably be feeling right now, but as Callie speaks again, and meets my eyes, the only thing that matters is the overwhelming feeling of...love.
I love her. And she loves me. And maybe the rest of it really doesn't matter.
Maybe it was worth tearing ourselves apart to get to this moment.
Because this moment is the start of something beautiful, I just know it. This moment is like standing at the top of the Empire State Building, holding your breath, waiting to meet the love of your life.
This moment is everything.
"Happy Valentine's Day."
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