Betrayal had never led to such indiscretion in her previous endeavors. She was unaware of her poor choices, and it had never struck her as something so outrageous. Only in retrospect had she ever thought otherwise. When she forgave George, she'd been making a poor choice. He even told her so, that night in the pouring rain. She'd stared off in the distance, indignant on her choice and demeanor, indignant in every manner possible in order to keep herself standing.

It was only then that she'd failed to realize that forgiveness was outrageous.

But she had. At some point. Callie was forgiving, Callie gave second chances.

But three? Four? Maybe she could. She could if it meant being with Arizona forever.

But she couldn't when she'd found out.

Because forgiveness was fucking outrageous.

Callie scampered the halls in a bout of rage, feeling the blood rush to her head. She'd often felt incessant rage - ever since their divorce. She'd decided that it wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth it, she decided, as Arizona continued to plead with her, telling her that she didn't know what she was thinking. Their marriage had at once become a ring pinned to a shirt - an inanimate object that managed to destroy everything.

Callie abruptly halted in the middle of the hall, lost in a shroud of her own thoughts, staring down at her left hand. She traced her knuckles, then lightly traced over her ring finger - she noted the absence of the ring and frowned before continuing down the hall.

They'd done surgeries through the weeks. Bridled by past circumstances, Callie held her head up high and ignored any informal sentiments that she could possibly share with her once blonde lover. Though Arizona eyed her so intently, she dismissed it and concentrated the body before her. They'd discuss Sofia's arrangements and she'd be off in a matter of seconds. There was to be no small talk. There should be nothing that lingered in-between them, not any form of adoration.

She didn't want to see the sorrow in those blue eyes. Though Sofia would innocently question their estrangement, she'd brush it off, though still referring to Arizona as "Momma". Nothing should matter.

She tried dating, too. It took her long enough and she had finally managed to stop dreaming of her dead best friend and her unfaithful wife. The most painful dreams, however, were not the fights that she'd had with Arizona. No, the nightmares were the pleasant times. The happy times. The Arizona before the plane crash. The Arizona that had not resented her. The Arizona that had not betrayed her.

The Arizona that did not have post-traumatic stress disorder.

She scoffed and walked into the Attendings' Lounge, only to be met with a number of people. Bailey watched her expression for a moment and opened her mouth to say something, but Callie quickly turned around and left.

No, she'd have to go to her sanctuary of solace - the supply room. The quiet, dingy supply room that was often vacant and free. The place where she could relax and calm her nerves and properly prepare herself before an 8-hour surgery with her ex-wife.

She remembered the day that Karev told her that Arizona had PTSD. That was her fourth date with that cute scrub nurse from Neurology. She'd heard that Arizona was seeing a counselor. Callie was baffled. She had missed something. Among all of her support and love and rage and persistence, she'd missed something important.

And for a moment, she felt a twinge of guilt. And then anger swelled within her. Why should she have to feel guilty? For not noticing? She should have told her, why didn't she tell her?

"Because she didn't know," he'd said.

"She didn't even know it herself, Callie."

How could she not know? How could she block her off?

Callie decidedly told herself that they would no longer have any kind of intimacy, any sort of familiarity. It hadn't worked for so long, because they had a child together. They would always be tied together.

Callie's dates had failed.

When she saw that blonde hair whisk by or those blue eyes catch her own, she'd feel her heart pump wildly. She didn't want it, none of it.

Everything she felt for her drove her wild. When she looked at her, she felt fear, concern, happiness, love, lust, anger, sadness, rage. Sometimes, a specific feeling would be heightened. And she didn't know what to do with those feelings.

She opened the door to the supply closet and slammed it behind her, knowing that Bailey would be searching for her soon enough. She didn't need another talk today. She was doing fine.

But then she saw her ex-wife with her pants off, and her two hands placed on her stump - perhaps in the process of massaging it and then she felt her heart begin to race again.

"Callie?" she asked.

"Does it hurt?" Callie asked her, shifting her eyes away from her.

"A little… Uh.. wh-what are you doing here?"

"I come here, sometimes."

"Why?"

"That's none of your business," Callie replied. She leaned against the door and stared up at the ceiling.

"Uh."

"Shut up, Arizona," Callie growled.

She knew she was being unfair. After all, she was the one that had come into the room, only to find her sitting on an unopened box of medical supplies with her pants off and her hands on her thigh.

"Can you… leave?" Arizona asked, meekly.

"No."

"Callie."

"Shut up."

"Callie!"

Callie walked towards her and looked her in the eyes.

"Stop talking. This is my place. You shouldn't be here. Do that somewhere else," she told her.

"Callie, you're upset and being irrati-"

"You don't get to tell me how I feel!" she claimed.

"So-sorry.." Arizona murmured, shifting her gaze to the floor.

Callie was being irrational and she knew it. She knew her emotions sent her haywire, especially when she was being fueled by them. All she wanted to do was relax and calm down before having to face her ex-wife, but here she was - sitting in front of her, meekly staring at the floor, awkward and self-conscious.

The Arizona that had been her wife wouldn't have let her do that. That Arizona would have calmed her down, or yell at her, or talk her to reasoning. That Arizona wouldn't let her shut her up on account of her own anger.

"I'll go," Arizona told her, looking back up at Callie.

Callie had caught her gaze so suddenly and felt her heart race - she didn't know what to do with these emotions. What could calm her down before 8-hours with this woman?

She grabbed her scrub shirt and pulled her forward, roughly capturing her lips in a bout of lustful rage.