Three Years Ago

Arizona couldn't put words to how she felt. Or rather, she refused to look that closely to name it. All she knew was that Callie had walked out – Callie had bailed this time – and Arizona was hurt. And she was mad. And there was an inkling in the back of her mind that she was relieved they were over and she hadn't been the one to end it or fuck it up. She had been given an out. Or so she may have realized if she took even a moment to reflect.

But she didn't.

Instead, Arizona dove into work. She worked around the clock with Dr. Herman and came alive professionally in a way she hadn't in years. When faced with Callie, though, she never missed an opportunity to underscore that she "didn't want any of this," that Callie had walked away, that Callie had given up. And Callie allowed Arizona to preach this false fallacy. It was leniency perceived by Callie as an act of love and patience. It was an absence of accountability that allowed Arizona to live in her distorted reality of self-righteousness. It was a pattern that had weakened their relationship for years.

Nine Months Later

The walls were closing in on Arizona.

Training under Dr. Herman had been invigorating, and Arizona was able to absorb an enormous amount of her knowledge and skill before she finally succumbed to the tumor. Now, Arizona found herself in this lonely, ambiguous world of fetal surgery without her beloved mentor.

She and Callie had found some semblance of rhythm in their co-parenting. Well, to call it co-parenting is generous. It was joint custody. There was no collaboration or overlap in their parenting of Sofia. There was a schedule. And a system. Sofia was well-loved, but each mother did so in isolation.

And there was Callie. The hospital was large enough that the two doctors could avoid each other, but it was small enough for Arizona to be generally updated on Callie. She knew that Callie's veterans project had taken off after their split. There was energy and grant money and publications flying around. There was even mention of a possible Harper Avery in a year or two. Callie appeared more tranquil and confident than Arizona had seen her in years, and it made her simultaneously proud and sad. And that type of dichotomous emotional chaos within was what Arizona regularly avoided exploring.

She saw how closely Callie worked with Owen on the project. It wasn't clear to her why he was so involved; he was a veteran, sure, but what was his purpose? She had also heard rumors of a few blow-ups between the two, and the way Owen spoke to Callie brought out Arizona's protective nature. But she figured it wasn't her place to question the dynamic.

As time passed and their project intensified, though, Arizona saw the writing on the wall: Callie and Owen were going to fall into bed together. Arizona had been waiting for this shoe to drop for years – since she slept with Dr. Boswell, in fact – and while, in the past, she wrongfully assumed Callie would sleep with someone else, to her surprise, she was not prepared to witness it.

She was a single mother, confused about her professional path, and with Callie on the cusp of officially moving on, the walls were closing in on Arizona.

Three Months Later

"So." Arizona took a deep breath as she stood on the other side of the living room looking at Callie.

"My stuff has already been shipped, and I am planning on driving out in the morning. I just wanted to come by and see Sof before then."

Arizona was standing in Callie's living room – what was once their living room – speaking too distantly for the situation at hand. She had been feeling lost for months, so when Oregon Health in Portland called with an offer to head up their newly developed fetal surgery department with limitless resources, she jumped at the chance.

Callie sighed. She looked away and wracked her brain to make sense of this move. To find the right words that would stop it. But when she looked back to Arizona, she knew it was futile.

"You are thinking of doing WHAT!?" Callie was pacing the on-call room. She couldn't believe this. Moving? Permanently? How, what, why?

"Callie, just listen. I –"

"No. Absolutely not. This isn't happening. We have already put Sofia through so much and now you want to move three HOURS away. No. You're not going."

Arizona took a breath. She had practiced – speak calmly, get her words across before Callie could speak over her again.

"I'm going. I have to. For so many reasons, Callie."

When Arizona realized that Callie was listening, she continued.

"It's an incredible professional opportunity. I can take the world of fetal surgery to a new level. And it's only a three hour drive. We will figure out a schedule to share custody, and I can fly back in under an hour. Sofia is my daughter, and I won't let her suffer from this. But, I'm going to Portland."

Callie stared. She couldn't take it all in. The questions were swirling in her brain – Where did this come from? What did this mean for their family? For their daughter? And what did Arizona mean "for so many reasons?" What other reasons?

But all she saw was that Arizona was resolute.

So she stormed out.

"Okay. I guess … I guess we'll see you in a few weeks," Callie said. Until they could figure out a permanent schedule, they planned to meet half-way every few weeks so Sofia could spend weekends with Arizona in Portland.

They stood across the room staring at each other. There was a heavy pause, and Arizona opened her mouth as if to say something. To say goodbye? To apologize for her mistakes? To ask Callie to beg her not to go? To question how they got to this, after years of loving each other and building a beautiful life?

But she didn't say anything.

Arizona closed her mouth. She gave Callie a tight nod. And she turned to walk out the door.

That Night

Seattle was covered in a late-night foggy mist. It was 2am as Arizona walked up the house. She could see through the front window and into the kitchen where Callie was standing over the sink washing dishes. She knew Callie did late-night housework when she was uneasy and couldn't sleep. Standing outside in the silence, she watched for a moment. Tear stains marked her cheeks.

Sitting in her hotel room on her final night in Seattle, the walls finally crashed in.

All of the memories insisted on washing over her – the good times that turned bad, the issues that were never addressed, the screaming, the abuse, the infidelities. It was too much, and before she realized where she was, Arizona had pulled up in front of the house.

She watched Callie finish with the dishes and turn off the kitchen light. She lightly knocked at the door, and as Callie answered with a confused look on her face, Arizona rushed passed and into the living room.

She turned back. Callie stood, her eyebrows slightly raised, half questioning, but mostly concerned.

"Arizona?" she asked hesitantly.

And with that, Arizona crumbled. Fresh tears burst from her eyes so hard that she couldn't catch her breath. Her face fell into her hands.

Callie rushed over and placed her hands lightly on Arizona's shoulders, trying to make sense of what was happening. As Arizona began to hyperventilate, Callie moved her over to the couch and kneeled in front of her. This was the closest they had been in months.

Words began tumbling from Arizona amidst the gasps.

"I'msorry-I'msorry-I'msorry-I'msorry-I'msorry-I'msorry" was the mantra Arizona was chanting between gulps.

The tears wouldn't subside. She took a deep breath, dropped her hands from face, and locked eyes with Callie, who was frantically taking in the sight before her.

"Callie, I'm sorry. I'msorry-I'msorry-I'msorry. I was sitting in my hotel room and it all came crashing down around me. All of it. I couldn't leave Seattle without telling you that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for abusing you after the plane accident. I'm sorry for destroying us with Lauren Boswell. I'm sorry for cementing our destruction with Leah. I'm so sorry."

A pause.

Callie's eyes stayed locked on Arizona, hanging onto her words.

"I married you."

Arizona breathed deeply.

"I took you as my wife."

She closed her eyes.

"And then I fucking destroyed us. Callie, I need you to know that I am sorry." Arizona's tears continued.

A heavy silence took over the living room, and finally Arizona's sobs slowed.

Callie took a breath. "It's late, Arizona. Why don't you sleep here."

Dropping her gaze to her lap, Arizona nodded once and got up to walk into the guest bedroom. She knew she was in no shape to drive at this hour.

Callie followed her to the guest bedroom and after she made her way in, Callie closed the door.

Arizona heard some movement in the kitchen, and she suspected Callie was making her tea. Callie always made her tea when she was sad. This thought alone made Arizona erupt into another round of sobbing. She curled onto her side and gave into the tears.

Callie entered the darkened room and sat the tea on the nightstand, gently placing a comforting hand on Arizona's shoulder before turning to go.

"Callie," Arizona softly called out as Callie walked back out toward the hallway.

"Please. Just tonight. Please lay with me."

Callie turned back. Arizona was taking heavy breaths in an attempt to self-soothe. Callie quietly clicked the bedroom door closed, then walked to the the bed and laid down.

On opposite sides, Callie lay on her back, looking up, while Arizona faced her, trying desperately to control her weeping. Neither reached out for the other, but the proximity comforted both.

The emotional exhaustion started to pull Arizona under. As she was drifting off to sleep, she kept murmuring "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Callie laid still, listening. As Arizona's breath steadied and her mumbling stop, she heard Callie whisper, "I know. I'm sorry too."

And when Callie woke up with the first hint of daylight, she rolled over to see that Arizona was gone.