"I know we're not together anymore, but I really miss you. Is there any chance I could get you to stay?"
A/N: Thanks to breakawaysss on instagram for this amazing prompt :)
This story is also very loose leafed so this takes place some time after chapter one. Enjoy ~Meowser
Dating had been a mistake in the first place. Maddie hadn't been ready for a relationship, but she'd wanted to be close to Chimney so badly, and somewhere along the way, being friends hadn't been enough.
And she'd jumped, eyes closed, into the deep end. She'd ignored the panic she felt when he'd bring up milestones, when he'd casually mention how he still wanted a family.
She'd loved him. She really had; maybe still did. But she was too hurt, still reeling from what Doug had done to her. She had never really learned what made a relationship work; one of those things being communication.
She hadn't told Chimney when she felt scared. She hadn't told Chimney that she felt like she was drowning. She hadn't told Chimney that it was just too much. Being loved by him was became a burden because she couldn't accept that she was even worthy of love.
And Doug. He'd complicated things more. He came back into her life one fall day and she'd hit the ground running, leaving Los Angeles without a word to anyone. She'd finally called Buck two days later, and he'd talked her into coming back. He said they'd take care of Doug.
37. That was how many voicemails Chimney left on her phone.
45. That was how many texts he sent her that she didn't reply to.
She couldn't. She didn't know how.
And then the texts had eventually stopped. At first she'd tensely waited for the day she'd find Chimney standing outside of her apartment, but she'd underestimated him, and underestimated just how well he knew her. He knew she needed space. And he finally accepted that. He wasn't going to go the Doug route and track her down.
She missed him, she realized, heart aching. She missed him so much, and one year later, one year after not talking to him at all, not seeing him, she still dreamed about him. She remembered his smile. She remembered his touch.
So when Buck mentioned that he was having the 118 crew over to celebrate his new apartment, Maddie had quietly asked him if she could come to.
"You're my sister, of course," he'd said. Buck had been so hurt when she left, but when she'd called him to let him know where she was, and what had happened, she'd been crying so hard he'd simply told her to let her know where she was and he'd come pick her up.
He'd stayed on the phone with her almost all of the two hour drive and then they'd gone home in silence to their apartment. He hadn't pressured her to talk, though she knew it would have been killing her younger brother to not ask.
Over the next few weeks, Maddie hadn't left the house. Buck tried to talk her into going to work, into talking to Chimney, but she'd felt too lost, and after another argument (arguments were something that the Buckleys excelled in) he'd never mentioned Chimney again. He'd sensed that some things just hurt too much to talk about and he'd given Maddie more space after that.
A year passed. She got a divorce, something that took a lot out of her, and something that terrified her.
But Doug was out of her life. She still wondered if he'd come back someday, but she had an order of protection and it wasn't something she thought about every day now.
Chimney was, though.
She stared at herself in the mirror, putting a dangly earring on, tilting her head to put on the other. Her hair was gently curled, and she felt good about her outfit; a sweater and skirt.
Buck had moved out; for the first time he was living alone in an apartment that he'd paid for. He was slowly starting to show signs that he was, actually, an adult.
She missed him. It had only been a month, and she missed his noise and how annoying he was, and just how present he'd been.
She was alone again now, and she didn't like it.
He lived within walking distance, and she grabbed her purse as she left her own apartment, locking the door behind her and heading down the street. She was so grateful he'd stayed close by. She knew there was a part of him that had wanted to move back across town, but he'd stuck by her.
She was outside his apartment before she knew it, thoughts running through her mind at a rampant speed. Had he told Chimney she was coming? Would Chim even be there? Was he even still at the 118?
Oh god.
Her mouth was dry and her heart was beating so hard, but she forced herself onward, trying the doorknob.
It was unlocked for the party, and Maddie could hear conversation as soon as she opened it.
She felt scared. She was scared. She was so afraid that the 118 would be angry with her for shutting them out, that they would reject her.
But Athena was there, right inside the front door. "Long time no see, Buckette," she said, a slow smile curving her face. And, to Maddie's surprise, the other woman pulled her into a brief hug. "How you holding up?"
"I'm getting better every day," she whispered, a lump in her throat.
"Listen, I don't understand why you did what you did, but I don't have to understand it, so I forgive it," Athena continued in a low voice. "But Maddie, please realize you did hurt the people around you."
She opened her mouth to reply, but Bobby had walked in, and, as Athena had done, he gave her a brief hug.
"It's good to see you again," he told her. "The city gets so big sometimes."
She wasn't sure what to make of them, but the two were heading into the living room, holding hands now. How long had they been married now? She couldn't think, but she remembered dancing with Chimney at their wedding. She remembered kissing Chimney at their wedding.
God.
She missed him so much.
Eddie was there, Christopher in tow. She got big smiles, and an exuberant hug from Christopher, and it filled her heart.
Hen was a little stiffer, smiling when she saw Maddie but keeping her distance. No wonder. She was so protective of Chimney, and Maddie had hurt him so badly.
Chimney. Was he here?
He wasn't. She scanned the whole room, some of the people there were unfamiliar, and his face wasn't among them.
She felt her heart splinter. Of course he hadn't come upon hearing she'd be there.
Buck was there, hugging Maddie, saying he was glad she made it, but the words sounded far away, and Maddie found herself drifting off now, taking one of the shots lined up on the kitchen counter and downing it.
She took a second, and a third. Now there was the burn of alcohol in her veins and throat, and she felt much braver.
She searched the room a second time, her head spinning just a little, and finally gave up, heading for the patio doors and opening them to slide through.
It was dark enough that the stars were out, and Maddie breathed in a shaky breath, before realizing there was someone else there.
She closed the door behind her, squinting to see who it was, not wanting to interrupt anything.
And it was Chimney. He was on a lawn chair, feet propped up on a stool, beer in his hand.
"Chimney," she gasped, stopping as though she'd walked into a wall.
"Maddie," he returned, nodding at her and taking another sip of beer. And then silence.
The spinning in her head intensified, and she reached to grab onto the railing for support.
"I'm so sorry," she finally spoke. "That I didn't tell you where I was going. That I didn't pick up your calls. That I didn't answer your texts." She moved forward, sinking onto the chair next to him; she was trembling. "I'm so sorry," she repeated, voice breaking. "I didn't know how to...how to do any of it, and you were there, and you were so kind, but you were too much, I didn't know how make myself good enough for you, but my god, Chimney, none of the reasons I had were good enough."
She could barely even breathe, waiting for him to speak, wondering what he'd say.
"I have nothing to say," he finally spoke. "I ran out of words about six months ago. Maddie." He took another sip of beer. "It's okay. It's not okay, but you opted out of knowing more than that awhile ago. And you did what you had to do."
His voice was slow, measured. He was carefully considering his words.
"I miss you," she said, voice breaking.
"I miss you too," he replied, real emotion for the first time. "But you weren't ready then and I'm not ready now."
"Of course," she replied, and stood up. She could feel the room sway, and tried to hide it, brushing her hands over her skirt. "I shouldn't have come."
She walked back through the party, avoiding Buck's eyeline, not realizing how closely they were watching her.
She reached the door, and fled, going to the elevator and staring at the buttons before going down to the lobby.
When she reached the lobby, a panting Chimney stood there, hands on his knees.
"That's too many floors," he gasped.
"What are you doing?" She wondered.
"I'm walking you home, it's way too late for you to go alone," he told her, holding the door open so she could walk through.
She didn't know how to react, so she just followed him. They walked in silence, until they reached her door.
And she didn't know if it was the alcohol or just pure insanity, but she turned to face him.
"I know we're not together anymore, and I have no right to ask you for anything, but I miss you so much," she began, voice breaking. "Is there any chance I could get you to stay?"