"Owen," she whispered. "Cristina," he answered. Jonas looked at the two of them, puzzled. "You two know each other?"
"Yes," Cristina and Owen said at the same time. "We were married." Jonas slapped his hand on his forehead. "Wow, you really know each other. So how long ago was this?"
Cristina answered. "We got divorced nearly six years ago." Jonas whistled. "So I guess that is why you came to Boston," he said.
"Among other things," Cristina said. She turned to Owen. "So how are you?"
"I am doing alright," Owen said. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"Well, actually, Jonas actually dragged me to this. He came to a conference with me and I had to reciprocate by coming to this reunion with him. I should have realized that you would have been here, since you are both the same age, you probably graduated the same year," she said.
"Yes, yes," Jonas butted in. "Hunt and me – we were sworn frenemies back in the day. We were always trying to get the better of each other. So what are you doing, now, Hunt?"
"I am chief of surgery at Seattle Grace Mercy West. I assume you are at Mass Gen with Cristina," Owen responded.
"Yes, head of neurosurgery," Jonas said. "You definitely one-upped me there." He looked at the two of them and suddenly, felt like a third wheel. "Well, I am off to mingle and catch up with some other folks. Cristina, I leave you in good hands. I guess you two would like to reminisce and chat about the old days. Toodaloo." Jonas turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Cristina and Owen just smiled at each other, neither of them knowing what exactly to say at the moment.
"So you and Jonas…." Owen's voice trailed off. He wanted to find out if Cristina and Jonas were a couple.
"No, no," Cristina replied. "We are just friends and colleagues. If he was still married to his third wife, she would have loved to come to something like this. Jennifer was a true social butterfly. Jonas came by this morning and told me to get a hot and sexy dress. This is the best I was willing to do." She pointed to her dress.
"Well, you did a fine job. You look lovely and very sexy, too," Owen said, with a smile. He felt a sense of relief when she confirmed that she and Jonas were not a couple. He knew he shoudn't have felt that way but he couldn't help himself.
"So I heard that you are engaged," Cristina said. If Owen could ask about her and Jonas, she had every right to ask about his fiancée. He nodded. Meredith already told her, he realized, so he couldn't deny it, even though he initially wanted to do so. That was really bad, he thought to himself. Here he was, with his ex-wife, and he almost wanted to pretend that Vanessa did not exist. As he got lost in Cristina's warm brown eyes, he found himself wanting to kiss her. He stared at her pink, full lips and he could still remember the taste of her lips, even though it was so long ago. The noise in the ballroom was getting louder as more and more people arrived. Combined with all of the chatter and the blaring music, it was becoming more and more difficult to have a conversation.
He bent down and whispered in her air. "Shall we leave so we can talk?" His lips brushed against her ear and she shivered with the feel of his lips against her skin. He still had the ability to turn her on, she realized. There was no other man who could make her feel that way with just the slightest of touch. No one, not Dr Parker or the men that had followed after him, had that power over her. Not even Preston Burke had that ability and she had loved him at one time. But she had not loved Preston the way she had loved Owen.
She looked up at his earnest blue eyes and found herself unwilling and unable to say no. She nodded. As he led her out of the ballroom, she asked, "Where are we going?"
"I have a room on the 6th floor," he said. "It has a nice balcony and I can order room service, if you wish."
"Oh," she said. She was going to his hotel room. That was dangerous, she thought. How was she going to stop herself from attacking him and throwing him on the bed? "Keep calm, Cristina," she thought. "And everything will be alright." She followed him into the elevator and on to the 6th floor, watching him as he slid the key card in his door. He opened the door and allowed her to pass, before he stepped inside. It was a lovely suite, in calming colors of tan, beige and green.
"Nice room," she said, putting down her purse on the desk. She took off her shoes. Her feet were killing her from wearing these high heels. She was used to wearing sneakers all day, every day and the stilettos were doing a real number on the balls of her feet. She sat down in the chair and rubbed her feet. He grinned at her. "Shoes killing you?" he asked.
"Yeah, I knew that was one of the reasons I became a surgeon. So I could wear scrubs and sneakers every day," she said. "I was not made for stilettos." Before he could stop himself, he found himself sitting on the floor, next to her and started to gently massage her feet. He used to do that for her, when she had a long day in the OR. She watched as his large hands enveloped her small feet, massaging all of the hurt out of them.
"You still do that very well. Thank you very much. My feet feel a lot better," she said, when he was done. "I am glad that you enjoyed it," he said, as he went to the bathroom to wash his hands. "Hey, do you want to order something from room service?"
"Yeah, I guess, that would be nice," she said. "Okay," he said, emerging from the bathroom. He picked up the room service menu that was on the desk. "How about some grilled chicken focaccia? It comes with roasted tomatoes, pesto aioli and fresh mozzarella. Plus you can get green salad or fried potato wedges with it."
"That sounds good. I will take the potato wedges," she said. He picked up the phone and ordered the sandwiches. "It will be here in 15 minutes," he said. "I ordered some white wine with that, if that is okay with you."
"Yes," she said. "That's fine." He sat on the bed and observed her, sitting in the chair. "What?" she said. "Do I have something on my face?" She self-consciously put her hands to her cheeks.
"No, no," he said. "I was just thinking how beautiful you are." She blushed. "Thank you," she replied. "Just a little bit of make-up and the girl cleans up, nicely."
"It's not make-up," he said. "You've always been beautiful. Like the first time I saw you in the ER and Webber assigned you to take care of my wound. I thought I was the luckiest bastard alive, when he ordered you to fix me up. You, on the other hand, were just itching to get into surgery and I was just the means to an end."
"Oh, don't sell yourself short. I was pretty darn impressed with you, when you took that stapler to your wound. Badass army surgeon," she said. "If Callie hadn't come into that room, you may have gotten lucky with a kiss."
"Yeah, but I still got my kiss, later that night, if I remember well. Sweetest kiss I had in a while. The first of many," he said. They both laughed but their laughter was also tinged with sadness as they were both so fully aware of their current circumstances. She knew that they would be so lost in their reminiscing, she had to remind them of what was presently happening in their lives.
"So you're engaged. To a realtor, I hear. Vanessa Collins, right?" she asked.
"Wow, Meredith has kept you well-informed," he said. "Yes, her name is Vanessa Collins and she is a realtor."
"So when is the wedding?" Cristina asked.
"In three months," Owen responded. It was killing him to tell Cristina the details. "At the end of summer, before her daughter goes off to college."
"She has kids?" Cristina was surprised. Owen nodded, before answering. "Yeah, three kids but they are all pretty much grown up. Her oldest, Sarah is 18, then, there is Troy, he is 17 and her youngest is Olivia, who is 16. Vanessa is divorced."
"Oh," Cristina replied. "I guess congratulations are in order, then. Soon, you will be a married man. I hope you will be very happy." Her voice cracked as she said it, indicating that was some fair amount of emotional turmoil within her. He heard the strain in her voice and he gave her the most rueful look.
"Owen!" she exclaimed, as she saw his look. "Don't worry about me. I want you to be happy. If Vanessa and her kids make you happy, then I am all for it. Besides, I have other things in my life that are going to help me cope with your impending marriage."
"Like what?" he asked. "Are you in a relationship?"
"If you are asking if I am dating someone, the answer to that is no," she said. "I just have other plans." She was wary about letting Owen know about her plans to have a child, knowing full well that the termination of her pregnancy, so many years ago, set the stage for the demise of their marriage.
"Tell me," he urged. "I want you to be happy, too. I still care about what happens to you." She was silent as she studied his face. She took a deep breath, before she spoke. "I am planning to have a child." With her words, she immediately noticed the strickened look on his face.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said. "I know this still hurts you." He knew he was thinking of the baby he had lost. That baby would have been a little older than six years, if Cristina had not terminated the pregnancy.
He lay back on the bed. His heart was beating out of his chest. "So how are you going to go about this? You said you weren't with anybody. Artificial insemination?" he asked. The words were hard to come out of him but he still wanted to ask.
"Yes," she said. "I have narrowed the donors to three candidates. I have their folders on my desk but it has been hard, trying to choose one. My doctor says we will try artificial insemination first and if that doesn't work, then we are going to try in-vitro. You know I am pretty far along from being a spring chicken. I am 38 years old and my fertility window is becoming even smaller, so I have to get cracking on this."
"Oh," he said. They stayed quiet for several minutes, neither of them not knowing what to say. The silence was broken by the knock on the door and the sound of the attendant saying, "Room Service." Owen quickly got up from the bed, opened the door and allowed the room service attendant to wheel in their order. The attendant opened the bottle of wine and he was rewarded with a generous tip from Owen. He offered them a quick goodbye before he left.
Owen poured the wine into the glasses. He handed Cristina a plate and they hungrily wolfed down their sandwiches. "This is good," Cristina said. He had to agree. They each had a first glass of wine and before they knew it, they had finished the bottle.
"I need to lie down," she said, as she joined him on the bed. She lay back on the bed, holding her tummy. He leaned back on to the bed. Their faces were less than a foot away from each other. They gazed at each other. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the longing, maybe it was the memories, he reached over and pulled her face closer to him and captured her lips with his own.
A/N Please leave your comments. Thanks for the reviews. I do appreciate when you take the time to leave your thoughts.