Salt in the Wound
"Is something wrong?" Roy paused in helping Gracia remove her coat to rest his hands on her shoulders.
She smiled back at him. "No, Roy, not really." Gracia took her coat from him and hung it in the closet as he draped his on the hall tree. Patting his chest, she asked, "What about you? The evening had to be hard on you."
Roy considered. It had been over a year since he'd seen Edward Elric, more than three since they'd been lovers. He'd thought seeing Edward again would hurt far more than it had, and that made him wonder. What, exactly, had they had when they were together? Sex, definitely, though Roy couldn't say they'd been remarkably close. Edward had been his subordinate, then. An open relationship had been out of the question.
"Roy?"
He gestured for her to precede him deeper into the house. "If you're asking if seeing Edward in a relationship is salt in my wounds, no." Roy nodded when she asked if he wanted coffee.
"He and Winry are very happy together," Gracia said, as the coffee began perking. "What about you, Roy?"
"I'm afraid I don't understand, Gracia."
"Do you think you could ever find that kind of joy, again?"
Roy studied her, this woman who'd been his best friend's wife; who'd become, in her own way, one of his closest friends. She was no Riza, but Riza could never have been Gracia Hughes, either.
"Maybe." He smiled softly. "If I found the right person."