Find Me Now
"It's clear that you and Castle have something real. And you're fighting it. But trust me, putting your job ahead of your heart is a mistake. Risking our hearts is why we're alive. The last thing you want is to look back on your life and wonder… if only."
It had been a mistake. All of it really. The drinks, the company, the dress. Damn this stupid dress. How she had thought any of it would ease the ache in her chest was beyond her. Because it hadn't. Not at all.
One thing just led to the next.
She'd turned Colin Hunt down. Maybe a couple years ago he would have been exactly the kind of man she'd have wanted. He was determined, smart, handsome. There was no harm in having a drink. But he wasn't what she wanted. Wasn't who she wanted.
The problem was who she wanted clearly didn't want her.
Was she fun? She hadn't been fun lately. At least not the kind of fun she felt certain he'd been referring to. He was who had filled her days with laughter. Uncovered her secret smiles and brought a joy into her life that she hadn't felt in years. But the last few weeks had been hell with each passing day that he pulled further away. It left her feeling lost and confused and a little bit angry.
She'd been fine before he came along. Ok, maybe not fine but she was used to making her own coffee. Used to solving things on her own. Independent enough to not miss having a partner. But she wasn't so sure she could go back to the way things were before him. She didn't want to go back.
She was undoubtedly complicated. Undoubtedly the exact opposite of what he'd so brazenly pointed out was right for him now. But she'd been working so hard. She thought she'd been making progress. She felt like they'd been on the verge of…everything not so long ago. And for what? For him to up and decide that he was happier returning to blonde bimbos who giggled over his red Ferrari?
The problem was, she couldn't be angry. The pain and doubt were far too overwhelming for her to keep up any pretense of anger.
The truth was that not a single a day had gone by since she'd heard him say those three words that she didn't long to say them back. It was terrifying. Terrifying to wonder if he meant them. To wonder if they were only a product of circumstance, a moment of desperation as he watched the life drain from her eyes.
It was even more terrifying to consider that he did mean them. Because he deserved so much more than her broken, barely beating heart. He deserved someone without scars, without complications. Someone who could fill him with same warmth that he brought her. What if she was never enough?
She hated herself for being so damaged. For being such a coward. For not being able to own up to her secret. It only weighed heavier as time passed. But she was fighting for it…for them. Damn it. And just when she'd felt so close, he was suddenly unreachable.
His words were like a knife in her chest, cutting directly to her biggest insecurities as he'd walked away from her, straight into the arms of someone else. Someone who was all those things she feared she may never be.
So she'd changed her answer to Colin's invitation.
She'd known it was all wrong though. His eyes didn't crinkle in the corners when he laughed at a joke. His hand wasn't warm and solid at the small of her back. He was friendly enough, charming even. But there was no boyish grin, no banter, no playfulness in their interactions. And she only found herself counting down the time until his flight departed.
She suspected he knew her mind was elsewhere but he didn't press her for details. Only kissed her chastely on the cheek and said, "He'd be a fool to lose you, Kate."
She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't.
She'd opened a bottle of wine after the cab dropped her off at her apartment. Swirled the warm red liquid around her glass before savoring its sharp taste against her tongue. Reveled in the way it clouded her senses. She wasn't usually one to dull the ache with alcohol. It was an all too painful reminder of the years spent trying to save her father from his addiction. But she was so tired. Exhausted from the careful façade she struggled to maintain in his presence, from the nights she hadn't been sleeping, and from the emptiness she felt inside.
She'd been about to pour another glass when she'd noticed the black dress hanging from her bedroom doorframe, where she'd placed it as a reminder that it needed dry cleaning. She ran her hand along the fabric and closed her eyes, losing herself in the memory of when she'd first tried it on.
Although it had only been a few months earlier, it felt like ages. It was an impulsive buy when she'd been dress shopping with Lanie for Ryan and Jenny's wedding. She'd only modeled it at Lanie's command but the moment she looked in the mirror she'd fallen in love.
She couldn't deny that she'd imagined wearing it for him. There had been a time in her life when she'd have scoffed at the idea of dressing up to impress a man. But there was something in the way he looked at her. Sure, he made his fair share of comments about her hotness and she'd caught him staring at her ass more than a few times at work but there were other times - in other dresses - when his eyes shone so full of awe and love that it made her feel like she was the only one in the room. She savored those moments, allowed them to fill her heart, chip away at the barriers.
And she'd thought that just maybe by the time she had an occasion to wear this black gown, they'd be together. She no longer thought in terms of if and had started believing in when.
Before she realized it, she was stripping off her jeans and sweater, pulling the dress from its hanger and sliding it on.
The alcohol coursed through her body, deliciously dulling her reason, as she zipped the dress into place. On any other night she'd never indulge this behavior, never give in to this ridiculous urge to wallow in her misery. But she was about three glasses of wine past preserving dignity tonight. And it wasn't as if anyone was around to see her anyway. She was unequivocally alone.
If only she was on his arm tonight. If only there were no walls, no flight attendants, no bitter secrets between them, pulling them apart at the seams.
It was all she could do to stop the tears from flowing freely down her face as she examined her reflection in the mirror. Why was she doing this to herself? She took a step back and grimaced at her appearance.
Did she have some sort of masochistic need to relive the moment their eyes had met the night before? The way she noticed his breath catch for just a second. To torture herself as that brief glimmer of hope caused her own breath to stutter; and started a current of electricity that filled her veins before it turned to ice again. As if for just a moment it still meant something to him. That they might still mean something.
But in that instant it was gone. It was gone and she was taking the wrong man's arm. Turning away from the only man she wanted because he'd already given up on both the if and the when.
She choked on a sob at the feeling and suddenly wished nothing more than to rip the fabric off her body. Burn it, destroy it, anything to rid herself of the cruel reminder that she no longer warranted the light that used to shine in his eyes for her. Looks that once spoke of always were now lifeless and void of emotion. The emptiness that swirled in the dark depths of blue threatened to swallow her.
She eased her body down the wall until she reached the floor, pulled her knees to her chest, and rested her head against them, as her body shook with silent tears.
She wasn't sure how long she stayed like that, arms curled tightly around legs. Literally holding herself together. Because if she didn't, no one else would.
From her spot on the floor she could see the box beneath her bed. It had been a long time since she'd needed it. Tonight she needed it.
Her hands were shaking as she unfolded the pages. She wasn't sure how she had managed to wait until she reached her apartment to read it that first time. Maybe on some level she'd known that if he'd taken the time to write it, it would affect her that way. Known that she couldn't handle it until she had privacy.
In her job, she was used to seeing darkness. Had discovered how to compartmentalize her life. But regardless of how many murders she'd investigated there was nothing like the long walk toward the body of someone she knew. Someone she cared for. She could still remember that day, walking towards Royce's body. It felt like a lifetime ago. Had it really been only a year?
Only a year since she'd flown across the country to LA. A year since she and Castle had sat on a couch, almost touching, so close. So close to giving in. She had been a mess then too. Mourning the loss of her training officer, a man she once loved, a friend she'd lost to betrayal. But she'd not been alone.
Royce's words had preoccupied her that whole trip.
The last thing you want is to look back on your life and wonder… if only.
She could still feel her heart racing in her chest as she'd leaned back against the doorway. She had to run away. The way he was looking at her. The way his words had wrapped around her heart. It was too much. She couldn't fight it when he was looking at her like that. She had to run.
If only.
She couldn't stop the words. Not his, not Royce's. They blurred together, weaving through her mind as she gripped the doorknob.
She could still feel the mixture of relief and disappointment, as she'd found herself watching his own door closing behind him.
Another missed opportunity. Maybe it wasn't right then. Hell, nothing was right now. But maybe the problem was that she was always waiting.
If only.
No matter how high she built the walls - no matter how well she'd learned to mask the pain, there was a part of her that wanted to crumble at the sight of him walking away. Every time he looked at her as if he didn't know her anymore she felt another piece of herself die inside.
How different would her life be now if she'd taken Royce's advice? Would she still be this broken mess, alone on her bedroom floor, in a dress that was meant for so much more than drunken tears?
Why couldn't she just be uncomplicated?
She ran a finger along the grooves in the page and tried to imagine what Royce had been thinking as he wrote to her. Did he know he would die? That these would be his last words to her? Did he realize how they'd cut through her, leave her defenseless against the emotions she'd denied herself since the day Castle had walked away from her two summers ago?
They'd haunted her right alongside Castle's three words for the past year.
He must have known. He knew her better than she'd allowed anyone else to know her before she'd met Castle. Yet, she'd still pushed his words aside.
And that's what she was still doing wasn't it? Even though she knew that she was working on healing, trying to be better, she also knew she was being selfish. Lanie was right. How long did she really expect him to wait on her? Especially when she hardly felt worth waiting for.
If only. The words taunted her from the page, now smudged and crinkled from how many times she'd sat unfolding and refolding the letter. Her insecurities always won out. But she'd been so close. They were so close.
She picked up her phone, pausing over his name in the contacts list. She just…she still couldn't do it. Not after the way he'd left earlier. Not when he was likely occupied with another woman. She tossed her phone down onto the bed and walked away.
If only.
Thoughts?