So this is my newest story, one that I have been tinkering on-and-off with for many many months. I'm really on a Tracy POV kick lately, it seems. Not that I'm complaining; love getting into her head! This idea was suggested to me by Kaizer-Kid back in October, and I've been struggling to get it just right, so I hope I succeeded. Enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated.
"Yeah, you heard me!" Tracy was saying into the bathroom mirror, raising her voice and narrowing her eyebrows in a way she hoped looked menacing. "You are a mean, selfish... not nice person..." she trailed off lamely, sighing and shaking her head, slightly disappointed in herself that she couldn't act or sound more aggressive.
"Skunk junk?" she added hopefully, and then laughed at herself. Nope, not aggressive in the slightest.
She sighed and shut off the lights, walking into the open space of her hotel room. She smiled as the sun shone in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It sure was nice to spend a few nights in such a luxurious space, taking a relaxing bubble bath in an oversized bathtub, or stretching out on the king size bed, reveling at the softness of the sheets, the comfort of the top-quality mattress.
It was admittedly weird not waking up next to Ted in the mornings, the feel of his arm on her hip, the adorable look of his disheveled hair as he sits up and crawls out of bed on his way to the bathroom. It's been one night without him, so far. She's not sure how the next four will bode, but with his "good morning" text in the AM and their agreed-upon Facetime session in the PM, she knew she'd be able to make it to the end of the week. After all, they've gone even longer stretches of time away from one another.
Tracy walked over to the double-doors that led onto the balcony, pushing them open and stepping outside, looking out towards the ocean. She smiled at the view, wishing Ted was with her. She decided she'd bring him back here with her someday, maybe later in the summer. She thought back to the previous summer, their first together as a new couple, and their occasional visits to Rockaway Beach to help beat the scorching heat of July and August. She could picture them on the Santa Monica Beach before her, splashing around in the ocean, taking a romantic stroll on the pier, enjoying a fresh seafood dinner, Tracy likely soothing Ted's sunburn with aloe vera and a gentle hand at the end of the day.
But for now, she was in Los Angeles with Kelly and the girls, celebrating her best friend's upcoming wedding with five days of fun, sun, and debauchery. They had already spent their first night in the city enjoying pre-dinner drinks at their hotel's rooftop bar, then made their way to Wilshire Boulevard for dinner, more drinks, and dancing. They stumbled back to their hotel at midnight—early, given Kelly's propensity to party until the wee hours of the morning, but their sleep cycle was still on New York time—and Tracy drunk-texted Ted, forgetting about the three-hour time difference. But he had still texted her back, playfully chiding her for waking him up, pleased to hear from her.
It was nice to have someone to check in with, who's happy to hear from her, whose face just lights up the moment you walk in a room. It wasn't like that with Lewis, Tracy knew. He cared for her—admittedly more than she did him—but he settled way too easily and quickly into the comfort that came with a relationship, only absently looking up at her when she walked through the door. But with Ted, she could hear the joy in his voice every time she called, could see the smile playing on his lips every time he saw her, could feel the love in his heart every time he kissed her out of the blue "just because".
And that joy, that smile, and that love was mirrored in her.
At that moment, her phone began to buzz. She pulled it out of her cross-body purse and, sure enough, it was her boyfriend Facetiming her. Tracy eagerly pressed at her phone, Ted's face now smiling up at her.
"Hey, California girl," he said happily, Tracy noting from his background that he was lying down on his living room couch. "How's the West Coast looking?"
"Hey, you," she responded with a smile, sitting down on a lounge chair. "It's hot and sunny here. How's New York?"
"Cold and rainy outside," he informed her with a frown. "And cold and rainy in my heart. I miss you."
She blushed, even though she should be used to the way Ted speaks to her by now. "Quit being a sap."
He laughed warmly. "Sorry. I'll stop being so maudlin. But I do miss you."
"I miss you, too," she admitted. "Called to say goodnight?"
It was funny having their goodnight chat at 6pm, when the sun was still shining brightly before her. But given it was presently 9pm on the East Coast and she likely wouldn't be back in her hotel room until the wee hours of the morning, it was their only option.
"Yep," he said. "As much as I love getting texts at 3 in the morning from Drunk Tracy, this seems more sensible."
She laughed. "Are you heading out to the bar now?"
"Nah. Barney and Robin are otherwise occupied," he said with emphasis, clearly implying that his friends had barricaded themselves in their apartment for the night. Again. "I just had dinner and will lay low at home. Got a full day of classes tomorrow anyway, so I'll take it easy tonight."
"You should give Pete a call!" she told him encouragingly. "He's missing Kelly lots, so I'm sure he'd appreciate some guy time."
"Don't worry about that. He and I already made plans to cry into our beers together tomorrow night," he said with a grin. "Plus, he asked this guy for some help finalizing his vows, being the wordsmith that I am." He finished his sentence with a proud look on his face, a smug tone in his voice.
Tracy shook her head. "You do know he only asked you because a) his best man doesn't have a way with words and b) this wordsmith," she pointed at herself, "is out of town and unable to help him, right?"
Ted frowned. "Why must you take this away from me, Trace?"
She smirked at him: she loved teasing him. "Aw, I'm sorry, pooh bear. You're right: you're so kind to help him out."
And it was kind of him. Ted and Pete (whom Kelly met a little after Tracy started dating Lewis) weren't the best of friends, but they got along pretty well, which pleased both Tracy and Kelly. The four of them went on double dates when the opportunity arose, but it warmed her heart when he made the effort to hang out with her best friend's fiancé without her prodding.
"So how was your day?" he asked her.
"We just spent the day at the beach," she told him. "So it was a pretty lazy one so far. Got a great tan, though!"
His eyes lit up at her words. "Can I see?" he asked hopefully.
She shook her head at his eagerness, the fact that he couldn't even bother feigning a detached tone in his voice, but she aimed the camera towards her chest, pulling down the neckline of her dress to reveal the significant difference in colour of her pale breast with that of her newly-bronzed décolletage. "You like?" she asked, lifting the phone back up to her face.
"I love," he corrected her.
"You know I meant my tan and not my cleavage, right?"
"Oh, right," he said cheekily, giving her a wink. "Your tan's nice, too."
"Uh-huh," she uttered, offering him a playful eyeroll.
"So what are the plans for tonight?" he asked.
"Pre-dinner drinks at the hotel bar again, we made dinner reservations at Chateau Marmont at 9, and then we're capping off our night at—and you're going to love this—a steampunk speakeasy!"
Ted's eyebrows shot up. "Whoa, that's pretty awesome!"
"Even more awesome," she continued excitedly, knowing he'd appreciate the extra information. "It's located in the basement of this historical Beaux-Arts building that housed the city's first privately-owned power plant. The nightclub has an industrial look, and a prohibition-era vibe, with a strict dress code and everything."
"Aw man, I wish I could be there!" he exclaimed, clearly loving the combination of history and industry. "I'm pretty jealous right now."
"I'll have a Gin Rickey in your honor, Mac!" she said in a (pretty bad) old-timey accent. She shook her head, embarassed. "Ugh, pretend I didn't say that."
He gazed lovingly at her. "I can't pretend, because I'm dizzy with a dame," he said with his own bad accent. "So I think she's the cat's meow."
Even when Ted was being silly, he could be undeniably sweet. "I love you, too," she murmured. "And I should get going. We'll be heading out any minute now."
"Ok," he said, sitting up on the couch. "You guys have fun. Don't get too—what's the right word—splifficated?" He paused. "Ok, maybe just a little bit splifficated."
Tracy laughed. "Oh, we'll be imbibing like nobody's business, Mister!" she assured him. "But we'll be safe, I promise."
"Good. But above all else, have fun," he said. "And hey, if you feel like texting at 3am again, go ahead. You know I love hearing from you."
"We may get back in at 3 Pacific Time," she warned.
"Even better: that's 6am my time, and about the time I get up to go to work anyway! So definitely call if you want, and tell me all about the club."
"Will do," she told him. "Sleep tight, pooh bear."
"G'night, babe," he said softly. "I'll talk to you in the morning. Love you."
"Love you, too," she said, lingering a bit to gaze at him before hanging up. She had to be good to avoid a minutes-long "I love you more / I love you more!" conversation.
Tracy stood up and tucked her phone back in her purse, looking out at the ocean. She nodded her head with a new resolve. This—his sweetness, his love—was the reason she had to do what she had to do. Ted was the greatest guy she had ever known; a man who wore his heart on his sleeve and was so open with his love. He didn't deserve what he had been put through. So Tracy hoped she'd be able to say all that she wanted to say, in honor and defense of the love of her life.
There was a knock at her door, and Tracy quickly shut the balcony doors behind her as she ran to the entrance, opening the door to reveal Kelly, her red hair fiery, her red retro dress, more so.
"Hey, lady! You look fabulous!" she said happily, nodding approvingly at her lacy little black dress. "Ready for drinks? Jules wants to get up there and see if she can find that cute bartender from last night."
"I'll actually meet you guys at Chateau Marmont for dinner," she told her friend. "That thing I told you about? I'm going to go and do it tonight."
Kelly's eyebrows shot up, impressed. "Really?" she asked. "Good for you! Do you need some back-up? The girls and I can come with."
"No, no," she assured her. "This is something I need to do myself. Besides, I'll be quick. I just want to talk to her, that's all."
Kelly smiled, reached out and took her hand tenderly, giving it a squeeze. "I know what it's like to have you have my back, time and again," she told her softly. "Ted's a lucky guy."
Tracy looked down at her feet. "I'm the lucky one," she told her quietly, then looking back up. "Which is why I have to do this. If there's anyone in the world I should stand up to and tell it like it is, it's her. I just hope I get to say everything I want to say."
"You will," she assured her. "Now, come on: the sooner you get this done, the sooner we eat!"
She took Tracy's hand, and pulled her out of the hotel room, shutting the door behind them.
The cab rolled to a stop in front of a one-story office building with large windows, familiar from Tracy's Google View search a few weeks earlier.
She had been planning this moment for weeks, from the instant Kelly announced she wanted to spend her bachelorette week in L.A. She toyed with the idea, pondering whether it even was her business to confront this woman, wondering what exactly she could say that would change anything. Because nothing could change, really; what's done is done.
But Tracy had to at least let her know what she'd done, how it made Ted feel, how this all had affected him more than she knew.
She paid the cabbie and climbed out of the taxi, stepping onto the busy sidewalk. Tracy quickly walked into the building, the clinic's waiting room looking like most standard waiting rooms, just with more of a chic and modern look. This was Los Angeles after all, and many celebrities came here and used her services. She was the best in the city, it seemed, to remove the stars' drunken mistakes or ex-lovers' names from their skin. The room was pretty empty—Tracy figured it was late in the day for too many appointments—save for one woman sitting down and reading a magazine.
Tracy walked up to the young blonde receptionist, who was scrolling through her iPhone.
"Hi," she began. "Um, is the doctor in?"
The girl didn't even look up from her phone. "Do you have an appointment?" she asked.
"No," she admitted. "I just wanted to see her."
She finally glanced up at Tracy. "I'm sorry, but she's very busy. If you require a consultation for a tattoo removal or a skin defect, you'll have to make an appointment. There's a six-month wait list."
Before Tracy could say anything, she heard the click-click-click of heels walking down a hallway, and a blonde woman in a white doctor's coat appeared by the reception desk.
Tracy recognized her instantly, again, from her Google search. She was definitely more beautiful than pictures of her suggested; she could see why Ted was drawn to her. Although he also told her once that her sweetness and humour were also two qualities he had appreciated. Tracy, however, was slightly unsure about the "sweetness" part, given what her involvement in the Wedding Bride movies had done to Ted's confidence and self-esteem.
"Betty, is Ms. Morris here yet?" she asked her receptionist. "She's five minutes late for her third session..."
"No, doctor. Not yet."
Before Stella could walk back towards her office, Tracy quickly spoke up. "Stella Zinman?"
She looked up from the file in her hands. "Dr. Stella Grafanello," she corrected her. "Can I help you with something?"
Damn, she was a little bit intimidating. You can do this, Tracy inwardly told herself. "Yes. I actually wanted to talk with you a bit."
"I'm sorry, but I really don't have time to talk," she said curtly.
"Well, given Ms. Morris hasn't arrived yet, I take it you have some time to chat," Tracy pointed out.
Stella sighed. "I really only have two minutes," she told her.
"Hey, lots can happen in two minutes," Tracy said in a knowing-but-playful tone. "You can go for a romantic stroll, have dinner, enjoy a bad movie, finish up with dessert..."
Stella narrowed her eyes suspiciously, realization now evident in her features. "How do you know about that?" she asked. "You know Ted?"
She smiled sweetly. "I'm Tracy. His girlfriend," she explained, reaching her hand out. May as well be friendly. But not too friendly! Tracy reminded herself. You're upset with this woman, remember?
"Oh," she said, tentatively reaching out her hand to shake Tracy's. "Did he send you here?"
Tracy laughed. "Oh, God, no! He has no idea " she admitted. "So... can we talk for a few minutes? I won't take up too much of your time."
Stella nodded and led Tracy down a short hallway, and into her office. Tracy had a quick look around; along with her various degrees on the wall, there were framed posters of all three Wedding Bride films. She was clearly showcasing them proudly.
Stella sat down at her desk, and Tracy sat across from her, glancing at a photo of Stella along with her husband Tony, and their daughter. They were a beautiful looking family. "Your daughter's adorable," Tracy told her kindly.
She smiled proudly, and for the first time, Tracy didn't see a cold or cautious woman. She saw a glimmer of what Ted must've seen in her all those years ago.
"Lucy. She's 13 now," she said wistfully. "She's growing up so fast. And I worry—raising her in L.A. and all—but she surprises me with how sweet and well-adjusted she's remained."
"L.A. really is different than New York," Tracy offered.
"It really is," Stella agreed. "I miss it often, but my business is doing great, and Tony needs to be here for work, so it makes the most sense for us."
"Yeah," Tracy said, looking over at the movie posters. "He's done well for himself with the Wedding Bride films."
Stella beamed. "He really has," she said. "I'm so proud of him."
Tracy cleared her throat. Let's do this, she thought, determined.
"Proud that he took Ted's sweet personality and turned him into a fictional laughingstock?" She kept her voice cool and even; there were ways to get her message across without getting too angry, she figured.
The other woman sighed. "So that's why you came here to talk, huh?"
"Yeah," she admitted. "And I'm talking here as a former fan; I loved the movies. Loved them!"
"And you changed your opinion of them when Ted told you he was Jed Mosely," she stated knowingly.
Tracy smiled sadly. "Hey, when the man you love is being ridiculed internationally by millions of fans, you have to take a stand somehow."
Stella chuckled. "Well, I really can't blame you there," she admitted.
Tracy paused before she spoke again. She seemed comfortable; they were having an honest conversation up to his point, and she felt she could tell Stella what she had come here to say.
"Listen, Stella," she began. "I just—and I know this is weird and out of the blue coming from someone you've never met before—but I just really want you to know what those movies did to Ted. He's been very open to me about his past relationships, and I know he loved you, and your daughter, very much. When you left him at the altar, that was a huge blow, obviously. But he got over that; he knew you loved Tony and that you wanted a chance to save your family. He respected that. But for you to then deliver that blow with these movies, to take every intimate moment between the two of you and twist them around and turn them into a running gag..."
Tracy noticed Stella wince at that, looking away from her. She had struck a nerve, it seemed, but Tracy didn't care. If her words were having an effect on Stella, then it was worth continuing. She had to know.
"It made him question everything about himself: wondering if he was a good enough boyfriend, if he was unknowingly a jerk to you, if this was what every single woman that came after you would see in him. I mean, is that how you saw him?" she asked, perplexed.
Stella finally looked back at her. "Of course not!" Stella said. "Ted and I are friends. Things were eventually good after we broke up. Tony and I helped him get that job at Columbia. He's a great guy."
"The best," Tracy agreed softly. "But... then why do this to him? Why kick him like this when he's already down?"
Stella sighed. "I didn't want to. Tony didn't either. He had a whole different script in the beginning," she said. "But then the guys at the studio wanted something different, for the love triangle to have a villain. So we had to change Ted's character around a bit. We weren't happy about it, but we had to do it."
"But did you really have to?" Tracy asked. "To knock a man down just for a movie and millions of dollars. Was it worth it?"
"It's not just a movie," Stella told her. "This was Tony's dream. I mean, wouldn't you want to give the man you love everything you possibly could to help make his dream happen?"
Tracy thought about that. Stella clearly loved Tony. And her support was sweet, inspiring even. Of course she'd do anything—absolutely anything—to make Ted's utmost dreams come true. "You're right. I would," she agreed. "But maybe not by walking over a few people to make it happen."
Stella offered her a sad smile. "I know. And that's something Tony and I regret a little bit. But we can't really go back now."
"Yeah, I know," she said. "I just... I didn't come here for an apology or excuses. I simply wanted to let you know, since I happened to be in town, how the movies made Ted feel. It's baggage he seemed to have carried with him for a very long time. That's all."
Stella nodded her head. "I don't blame you. I know Ted's very sensitive; I had only hoped he wouldn't get too upset over the movies. We've only spoken once since I left New York, and he never brought it up."
"He keeps it to himself," Tracy explained. "It took six weeks for Ted to tell me, and it was when I unknowingly took him to see Part 3. Poor guy played along for as long as he could, until he felt sick to his stomach and told me everything."
"Wow, I didn't think it was that bad," Stella said guiltily.
"He's better now," Tracy assured her. "He's done his best to put it behind him. Unless Tony's working on a Part 4, of course..."
Stella laughed. "No, no, no," she said. "Wedding Bride will remaina trilogy. He's working on another screenplay now. None of it based on real events or people, I swear." She offered Tracy a friendly smile.
"Well, that's good to hear," Tracy said, standing up. "Anyway, I took up a lot of your time. I should get going. It was real nice to meet you, Stella." She gave her one last look and a smile, and walked back towards the door.
"Hey, Tracy?" she heard her call.
She turned back to look at Stella. "Yes?"
"Um, has Ted ever shown you a picture of his butterfly tattoo?"
Tracy gave her a rueful smile. "No. And he must have something on his friends, because all of them claim to not have any photographic evidence. Not even Barney."
"Well," Stella began conspiratorially, "I happen to have before and after shots of all my clients. I might be able to dig it up for you if you'd—"
"Omigod, yes!" Tracy cried.
Stella laughed and then Tracy laughed too, staring warmly at one another. Tracy definitely had a different opinion of Stella than she did before coming here. She was content with how things had turned out, and pleased that Stella had more or less been receptive to her blunt words. Tracy was happy to have told her what her actions had done to Ted. It wouldn't change anything, but it was something. It was enough that she knew.
"C'mon," Stella said, getting up and walking over to a wall of cabinets, and gesturing Tracy to join her. "Let's see if we can find his old file."
Tracy grinned widely and walked over to her.
Tracy and the girls landed at LaGuardia at 11:30pm on Saturday, after a 7-hour flight which included a stop in Philadelphia. They were all pretty tired, the five of them going through the motions of getting off the plane, finding their way to baggage claim to retrieve their luggage, and then moseying over to the arrivals area.
As they walked, Tracy looked up at a handful of drivers holding up signs, and she did a double-take when she thought she saw her own name on one of them. She walked closer and, sure enough, recognized Ranjit from the couple of times he chauffeured her, Ted, Barney and Robin around.
"Helloooo!" he said happily, offering her a friendly smile.
"Hi, Ranjit," she said, still surprised. "What's this for?"
"Ride for the bridal party," he explained, and handed over a folded-up piece of paper.
Curious, she unfolded the paper and quickly recognized Ted's neat handwriting.
Hey, beautiful,
Figured a limo would be much more fun than a cab. You girls enjoy.
See you soon,
TM (Totally Missed you)
Tracy smiled as she folded it back up, tucking it into her coat pocket. She let Ranjit take her suitcase from her hands as she looked over to her friends. "Alright, guys," Tracy called. "Our limo awaits!"
The limousine ride was fun, re-energizing the girls as they laughed and sipped champagne. And one by one, each girl was dropped off at their respective homes, their crazy bachelorette week finally coming to a bittersweet close.
It was 1:30am before the limo finally stopped in front of Tracy's apartment building. She was tempted to ask Ranjit to drive her over to Ted's place instead, but it was rather late. Ted was likely asleep, and she was admittedly tired, too. She just wanted to quickly hop in the shower and crawl into bed; she'd reach out to him in the morning.
Tracy bid Ranjit goodnight and dragged herself through the front entrance, lazily pulling her rolling suitcase behind her. God, I'm exhausted, she thought as she entered the elevator and rode up the seven floors. She fumbled around her purse for her keys as she shuffled down the hallway, feeling the familiar shape of the rubber Cleveland Browns keychain at the bottom of the bag and pulled it out.
Tracy turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door, stepping into her living room with a happy sigh. And she was surprised at what she saw: Ted was asleep on her couch, curled up in a ball, his arms tucked underneath his head. The lights from the TV cast a glow on his skin, and an untouched bottle of red wine and two glasses sat on the coffee table.
Tracy smiled at the sight; he had clearly been waiting up for her.
She dropped her stuff on the floor and walked over to him, gingerly sitting on the edge of the couch, finding a small sliver of cushion. She leaned over and and kissed his forehead. "Wake up, Ted," she whispered.
Ted turned his head at the sound of her voice, stirring awake as his eyes fluttered open. He gave her a sleepy smile the moment his eyes met hers.
"Hey, you're back," he murmured, wiping the drool from his mouth with his hand. "What time is it?"
"1:30," she told him.
"Didn't think you'd be this late," he said, letting out a yawn.
"Five women in three different boroughs," she teased softly, running a hand through his hair, soft and recently-washed. "Ranjit had a lot of ground to cover. But thank you for the ride. You scored some major brownie points with the girls."
Ted smiled. "Dammit, I was only trying to score brownie points with you," he joked, sitting up to give her a kiss. "I'm glad they liked it. Figured Kelly should cap off her bachelorette week in style."
"I love it when you go the extra mile for my friends," she told him, grateful. "C'mon, let's get you to bed."
He eyed her expectantly as she got up off the couch and pulled him up. She laughed at the hopeful look in his eyes. "Just sleep," she clarified as they walked towards the bedroom, Ted grabbing her suitcase and purse with him along the way. "I'm ready to crash, and I need to get this plane smell off of me."
Ted, exhausted himself, didn't protest as he moved Tracy's suitcase and purse by her closet, and then slowly disrobed and stretched out on the bed, not even bothering to pull back the covers. He grabbed one of her throw pillows and wrapped his arms around it, pulling it close to his body. As he lay there, her eyes wandered to the small of his back, bringing to mind the pink and blue winged butterly tattoo that lived there for a short time. All that was left there now was a barely visible scar.
"Hurry back," he murmured, eyes closed.
Tracy smiled. She loved coming home to him, adored seeing him settled in her bed so cozily. It was as if he belonged, as if the left side of her bed had been made, and waiting for, just him. She could get used to this. It was moments like this, with her heart full, that Tracy pondered if it was time they broached the topic of moving in together. But that was probably a conversation for another time.
"I'll be quick," she promised, and disappeared towards the bathroom.
Once in the shower, she groaned at the cramped space and the crappy water pressure.
She kind of longed for that huge walk-in shower back at the hotel. But as she looked down at Ted's sleek silver razor sitting next to her curvy pink one in the shower caddy, and as the familiar scent of Ted's body wash—which Tracy just realized she had accidentally used instead of her own—enveloped her, she figured that is she wasn't missing all that much.
And as she made her way back to the bedroom, where she found Ted now under the covers, and climbed onto the squeaky mattress that was overdue for a replacement, she realized she had way more than any hotel could offer.
"I'm so glad to be home," she admitted, snuggling up against Ted, letting his arms envelop her for the first time in five days.
"Me, too," he concurred, kissing her forehead. "Hope we don't go days without seeing each other for the foreseeable future."
"I don't plan on going anywhere for awhile," she assured him. "So, how was your day, pooh bear?"
Ted laughed softly. "You're tired," he reminded her, pulling up the duvet cover up to her chin. "Go to sleep; I can tell you about my day tomorrow."
She had missed his tales. He could take a simple day full of chores and tasks, and tell it like a story. She loved that about him. His daily rundown before bed made for the perfect bedtime tale. "Aw, c'mon. You won't even tell me if anything weird or crazy happened?"
Ted laughed. "I swear, it's been a pretty uneventful day," he said. "Oh no, wait: I did get an interesting phone call today."
"Oh?" Tracy asked, curious. "From who?"
"Stella. You know, my ex-fiancée?"
Tracy pretended to be shocked. Well, she was a bit shocked. She hadn't expected Stella would call Ted. "Really? What about?" she said evenly. Crap, wait: should I sound a bit more surprised?
He shook his head in amazement. "Oddly enough, she actually called to apologize about the whole Wedding Bride thing."
"Wow. That's... unexpected." And impressive. Guess I had more of an impact on Stella than I thought.
Ted chuckled. "You can say that again."
Tracy smiled, happy to see that Ted was happy. "So, how did it make you feel? Finally getting an apology?" she asked, kissing his chest tenderly.
"I—I mean, as much as I've put that whole thing behind me, those movies are still a punch to the gut. I don't think I'll ever quite get over that defamation of my character, you know?" She nodded sympathetically as he continued: "But Stella telling me she was sorry, assuring me that I wasn't a Jed Mosely... It was reassuring to hear."
Tracy smiled. "I've said it before and I'll say bit again, babe: you're not Jed Mosely," she murmured. "Not even close."
He gazed down at her lovingly. "I know," he uttered, a hand moving to her hair. "And it's you who helped me move past it because, honestly, I realized that I had to go through all this crap so that I could finally meet you. So, in hindsight, as much as it hurt, I think it was ultimately worth it."
Tracy's heart warmed. She knew it was years of ups and downs in the relationship department for Ted, and he could've either just held onto those memories bitterly, or used them as a learning experience instead. At his age, he decided to choose the latter. "Totally worth it," she agreed.
"I'm still curious as to what prompted her to call out of the blue like that, though," he said, his eyes now staring deeper into hers. "All the way from Los Angeles."
Wait, was there an inflection when he said Los Angeles? Tracy thought, as he continued to gaze at her. Oh, crap: he knows!
He continued to stare at her as her brain pondered what to say next. Her silence was probably a dead giveaway at this point.
She should tell him, she figured. Tell him she went to see Stella. Maybe Ted won't get upset. Or maybe he will. Maybe he doesn't need his girlfriend digging into his past, trying to fix his problems...
"Um, maybe she just had a sudden change of heart," Tracy offered nervously, trying to keep her voice cool. "Sometimes it takes years for people to realize they messed up. You know?"
Ted just continued to stare at her, not saying a word. Eventually, he just chuckled and gave a knowing nod. He leaned forward to kiss her lips softly. "Maybe. Guess we'll never know what made her apologize. All that matters is that she did, though." He then moved his lips over to her ear. "And I am very grateful for it," he whispered.
Tracy stilled as he pulled away and grinned at her, turning away to turn off the bedside lamp. How the hell did he know? Stella vowed she wouldn't tell Ted she had stopped by, and Tracy was certain she hadn't. The room was now bathed in darkness, and Tracy was still lying there, silent and stunned, as Ted turned back and comfortably wrapped his arms around her again.
She was more confused than ever. Did he know? Did he not know? Should she say something? But as Ted said started talking about morning sex and waffles, then mentioned something about his mom coming to town, she decided to leave it for tonight. She was exhausted. Tracy simply yawned and smiled to herself as she let his voice lull her to sleep.
END