White Christmas
He wrote it out. He crossed it out. He scrunched up the paper. He threw it to the side of him. The cycle repeated.
It was aggravating to say the least. Max had spent hours scribbling a speech out on scrap pieces of paper, trying to get it right. Trying to get it perfect. His plan was simple. Just after the Christmas Day shift (he'd already checked who was on rota, and lo and behold, Zoe was), he'd ask his wife/friend/associate to meet him just outside of the Hope and Anchor. (Obviously he'd considered the possibilities of Zoe saying no, but he knew she would say yes.) Then, when no one else was in earshot, he'd start his still-can't-get-right speech. Something romantic and full of love for her. He hoped she would come back to him then.
The only flaw? He'd been giving her the cold shoulder and the I-want-a-divorce look for weeks. So what's to say she hadn't moved on? Her wedding ring was removed for starters. Maybe she was seeing the man she slept with on her hen night.
No!
That wasn't happening, was it? It couldn't be happening. He knew Zoe. She wouldn't do that.
But he also thought she would never cheat on him.
Shhh! He told himself. He couldn't think about that now. He was going to get Zoe back, even if it killed him.
Zoe, I know things have been rocky between us
No. Rocky is playing it down. He scrunched up the paper and threw it behind him, not even caring if he missed the bin.
Zoe, when you told me you cheated
No. Too abrupt. Scrunch up the paper again.
Zoe, our wedding - the beginning of it at least - was perfect…
There. The perfect start to what Max hoped would be a romantic speech. He continued writing, scribbling out the rest of the speech, smiling to himself. He just hoped it would be enough.
Outside the ED, Zoe was leaning back against a wall – smoking. She watched the puffs float away; wishing her problems would go with it. She knew she was stupid, she knew she was wrong, she knew Max would never forgive her. But that didn't change the way she thought about him. Her hand slipped into her jacket pocket and she ran her fingers along the petite ring that rested in there. Despite what her husband thought, she would never truly part with it. It was too special - to precious to her.
"I brought you lunch," broke her out of her thoughts. A paper bag was thrust in front of her and Zoe was forced to draw her hand out of her pocket to grab the food. She turned to Dylan.
"What is it?" She was expecting a tuna and cheese sandwich or something – but instead –
"Greggs," Dylan told her. "I had some free time, and it was the least I could do."
Zoe allowed herself a small smile. As quick-voiced and as cutting as Dylan could be, he was caring underneath all the layers of protection he put up. "Thanks."
Dylan nodded, and leant next to her.
She sighed. "Can I help you with anything else, Dylan?"
"You might have to let go of him," he mentioned, and Zoe immediately knew who he was talking about. He continued, "it's not doing you any good to ponder on him. It's nearly 2016 and you're still like this."
Zoe sighed, not willing to have a conversation about Max at that moment – so she stayed silent.
"You have to let him go, Zoe." He told her, before walking back into the ED. Zoe rolled her eyes and opened her Greggs.
Max brought his coat up to his ears as the snow started to fall. He would walk inside the pub - the temperature must have been below 0°C - but he had the best chance of catching Zoe alone if he was outside the pub and kept his eyes peeled.
The snow just made it more special.
Finally, he spotted Zoe wandering across to the pub, Dylan walking beside her. He watched as she spotted him, then saw Dylan raise his eyebrows, shake his head, then walk on ahead of her.
Max smiled at Zoe, she smiled back, and then she walked nearer to the pub. Max ran up to her.
"No, Zoe. Wait. Please."
She shook her head, "if this is about the ring, forget it."
"No, no. It's not about the ring." He pulled her arm (choosing to ignore how reluctant she seemed), and dragged her away from the pub.
He pushed his hand into his pocket, ready to get his so-difficult-to-get-right speech, when he realised his words needed to come from the heart, not something pre-written. So all the hours he spent writing and rewriting his speech didn't even matter now. What a waste. At least he knew the basis of everything - his heart would do the rest.
"I know things haven't been the same between us - "
" - Max, don't." Zoe said calmly, eyes widening.
"Hear me out. Remember… some flames just aren't meant to go out. Maybe… just maybe… we can give it another go?"
Zoe looked uncertain.
"I'm sorry. Forget I said anything. It was a stupid idea anyway." Max turned to walk away, a lump of emotion forming in his throat, when he felt someone pull his arm. He turned to Zoe, and realised just how close they were.
In one slow movement, his lips touched hers and he felt her lean in, before they shared a soft kiss.
"We could try," she whispered, before they kissed once more.
Snowflakes fell on their heads as they kissed, full of passion, full of life, full of love.
Written in December 2015 for casualtyfanaic on Tumblr.