Arriving in Ellenberg early Saturday, Arizona sits at 'their' table, nervously watching and worrying as the minutes trudge by, waiting to see Callie and Sofia. Everything is different from a month ago when she last saw her wife and child. Now, her week includes multiple therapy sessions where she is introspective and talks about her feelings. In addition to fixing tiny humans, she is fixing herself as well. As a surgeon, treatment involves knowing when and where to cut; as a healer, treatment means knowing why you need too. Arizona is healing: examining the 'why' for the first time in her life; so yes, everything is changing.

She spies Sofia before Sofia sees her, calling out to her as she waves her hand.

"Mama!" Sofia darts into Arizona's waiting arms excitedly, almost bowling over a little boy who wandered into her path.

"Hey, no running inside, remember?" Arizona gently reminds her daughter.

"I member now," the youngster innocently answers. "Let's go Mama. I want to play."

"Just a minute; I need to talk to Mommy. Why don't you start without me?" Arizona replies, situating herself to keep her daughter in sight.

Callie patiently stands by, listening and observing the easy interaction with which mother and daughter connect, even after the lengthy absence. Her heart pains with envy at the innocent trust, "Hi, Arizona."

"Callie, thanks for coming, for being here," Arizona replies, as she sits back down.

Sitting across from Arizona, Callie nods, acknowledging the appreciation. "You look better, Arizona. I worried about you."

"You did?" Arizona encouragingly questions. "I'm getting better, figuring it out. Ben, the therapist, he's great. He's not cutting me any slack, even when I try to check out. He makes me listen and talk. It seems I've been hoarding a lifetime of fear and sadness; they need to be discarded. We just spent time talking about Tim. I never let myself have closure; I avoided it. I'm doing that now. It's good, but it's painful too," she says quietly.

"Going over all those memories must be difficult for you. But I'm proud of you for doing it. Better late than never, right?" Callie says, trying to lighten the tone. "Seriously, it's time to sort it all out; it was haunting you. Why don't you play with Sofia a bit while I order pizza. We can talk more after; we need to."

Arizona nods, thankful their first few minutes are cordial. Callie seems to genuinely care about her well-being. Arizona knows their truce may be short-lived, understanding today they need to have an actual, constructive dialogue that may not end well.

After the pizza is consumed, the show begins, mesmerizing Sofia and the two women continue their conversation.

"I'd like to keep Sofia for a couple weeks," Arizona asserts.

"Arizona, two weeks is a long time," Callie hesitantly replies, focusing on Sofia. "I don't know if I can do that."

"It's been more than that since I've seen her," Arizona reasons. "Please? If I'm going to be part of her life, be her mama, I need to spend equal time with her." Her anger rears its ugly head, "unless of course you'd rather her lose two parents?"

Callie snaps her head to Arizona. "What? How could you even say that? I called. I'm here, aren't I?"

"I'm sorry," Arizona says, realizing she needs to keep her irritation in check. "I don't mean to be spiteful. I just miss her so much. You're here and I truly appreciate that. I want to be apart of her life and don't want to lose that," she contritely responds.

"I want that for you both, too. She misses you Arizona; she misses her Mama. I'll try two weeks. I need to stay connected though," Callie insists.

"We can do that. Tell me what you want," Arizona offers amicably.

Callie raises her eyebrows, "What I want is to know why you did it? Why you cheated?"

"You want to talk about that now?" Arizona asks incredulously; the conversation unexpectedly taking a hairpin turn from Sofia to her romp in the on-call room.

"I'm not entirely sure," Arizona confesses, hanging her head in shame. "I know that's not fair; not what you want to hear. She made me feel like...the old me. I thought that person was gone forever. She made me feel attractive, wanted, able, uniquely special..."

"And I didn't?" Callie angrily inserts. "Do you even remember the conversation before Bailey's wedding over the shoes? I said you were so beautiful compared to everyone else. Remember when you got the new high heel prosthetic? I was proud of you and told our friends to check out your ass. Why would it even matter? I loved you for you and the fact you have a great body is just a bonus. I thought you knew how much I wanted you; we were having sex again Arizona! Sex that you initiated!" Callie rationalizes.

"I know, I know, I….I didn't see you as...as a lover or think you really saw me that way," Arizona confesses.

Callie irately snorts. "Oh, I wasn't a lover? What did you see me as? A dumpy nursemaid?"

Stumbling over her words, Arizona tries to genuinely explain: "I felt helpless, Callie. You helped me dress, shower, even pee; it was demoralizing. I felt like a dependent child. I felt like a burden; someone else you had to take care of. I didn't feel like your equal. You did everything and made all the decisions. It felt more like you were patronizing me."

Callie angrily interrupts, "You think I didn't know how hard it must have been for you? You didn't want ANYONE to help you, so I did. What was I supposed to do? You didn't want to know what was happening with the lawsuit, with our lives, so I took care of it. I knew it was tough and embarrassing, but I'm your wife. Before you got on that freaking plane, I told you whatever you couldn't do, I would. So, I did! I didn't push myself on you as a doctor, even though you were struggling daily, and you never let me help with your pain except for that time in the x-ray room when you got the new leg. I knew you didn't want our relationship to be doctor/patient. Our love was supposed to be unconditional. You were distant and cruel sometimes Arizona, but I understood it was your frustration talking, not you. Was I wrong? You still blame me," Callie states emphatically.

Shaking her head to refute Callie's comment, Arizona quickly professes: "I don't blame you anymore. I know you had to tell Karev to amputate. I get that now. I finally reviewed the charts and I get it."

"But you do resent me; you're still angry with me," Callie restates.

Looking Callie directly in the eye, Arizona explains: "I'm still angry; it's still hard for me to understand, what I do know is I hate what happened to me. Ben said it's PTSD; that it's made me angry and bitter and it seeks to destroy me. I'm not saying that as an excuse for what I did or how I treated you. I'm in therapy to treat my PTSD, because it's part of the problem; it poisoned my perspective."

Frustrated, Callie pursues the conversation, "What I'm hearing you say is I didn't make you feel attractive or wanted; that you didn't see your wife as your lover but as a home health aide or caretaker. Is that what I am to you now? What, you have a steward and a mistress? One for chores and one for sex; the best of both worlds?" The bitterness is evident in Callie's tone.

Arizona trembles at Callie's words, "There's no mistress, Callie. It was a mistake; a one time thing. I need to work through a lot of emotions. I love you Callie. Come back; please come home. We'll work through it together," Arizona begs.

"How much is destroyed Arizona? Tell me you're still in love with me and that you still want me. Because there's a world of difference between loving someone and being in love. Tell me I still make you feel wanted and desired," Callie demands.

Arizona, sad at the downturn in the conversation, painfully responds. "Callie, I don't even know who I am right now let alone what I want or desire. I have a lot of feelings that need processing. I've barely started. But I know I love you and Sofia. It's just that my feelings for you are not….." Arizona struggles to find the appropriate word to finish her sentence, and finally adds, "passion-filled."

"But you have passionate feelings for Lauren Boswell?" Callie irately asks.

"No! No" Arizona quickly blurts, "that's done. We're not in a relationship. I severed my ties with her. I promise."

Seeing Arizona's distress, Callie hears the sincerity in Arizona's voice. "Arizona, look I'm seeing a counselor, too. And I read up on trauma; I get you went through a lot. The last year changed both of us. We aren't the same people who married each other. The plane crash put us on different paths, and I don't know if those paths will cross again."

"What are you saying, Callie?" Arizona tearfully pleads.

Callie despondently shares: "I'm saying I love you too, but I'm hurt too much to know if it's enough anymore. And I'm so tired of fighting you to tell me what you're thinking. Yes, we have history; we always will, Arizona. We share a child and will always be connected. But I feel like this last year the more I reached out, the more you pulled away; like you couldn't stand my touch. And now you've let someone else touch you, Arizona. And my dream is to be married to someone who not only needs me, but shares with me, let's me in, who only seeks my touch; who finds me amazing and I find amazing. Reciprocal, you know? A partner. Someone, who in ten, twenty or even thirty years is still excited to see me walk through the door and still feels that way no matter what. Before the crash and even in the hospital before your surgery, you made me feel amazing, like I could do anything. I thought we were amazing together. But that was taken from us. I'm not blaming you; I'm saying this is how I feel."

Arizona, taken back, is stunned by Callie's candid reasoning. "Callie, you can't walk away from us. We can figure this out."

Brown eyes meet blue: "Can we? Not like this. Arizona, before you stepped on the plane, you were running from loss and pain, running from Nick, from Alex and leaving me to pick up the pieces. Then after the crash, it was the same. You checked out and were just this shell. You left the mess for me, and I'm not talking about your dirty clothes. And you hated me for cleaning up the mess while you shut me out. I was good enough to be your nursemaid, but not to take to bed? I don't want to sleep in a bed with a demilitarized zone. That's not marriage. I thought it was changing and getting better. We made strides, like after Bailey's wedding, the night after you got your new leg and the morning of the TED conference. But you shut me out again, didn't tell me how you were feeling or that you were tempted and then you cheated on me. I get that you're hot. We both are. Do you know that Jo Wilson flirted with me to try to get in on a surgery? I told her not to mess with a horny bear. It had been months, Arizona, MONTHS, but I didn't cheat. It's enticing to be desired, but I refrained from letting it go beyond desire because I'm married AND I loved you, Arizona," Callie's poignant words are hard to dismiss.

"I have this fear that at some point, in the future, you are going to leave for Africa again; literally or figuratively. I don't trust you and trust is the very foundation marriage is built on. I know life has no guarantees and it seems like we should have reached our quota of misfortune by now. But who knows what is around the corner for us? When you look at me, I want to see you undress me with your eyes, not stare at me with scorn or contempt because I am managing our lives. I want to be a parent to only Sofia, and not to you. I don't want just to survive; I want to live," Callie weeps as she finishes.

"I can't do this without you," Arizona begs.

"You can and you have to. You're stronger than you think. Remember when you insisted that Sofia be weaned from her pacifier because it wasn't healthy? At night, when she was scared about new situations or she was hurting, Sofia always wanted that damn pacifier. This is the same thing. I think we're each other's pacifier or comfy blankie. We took it from her and she learned to manage without it and it was rough for a while, but she got over it. It was a security blanket and she needed to learn to manage life without it. We need to do that too; to take time separate from each other to fix our brokenness. Time apart is a good idea to find out who we are now, before we see if we can even try to find 'us' again," Callie elaborates.

Callie adds one more painful admission. "Arizona, honestly, I don't know if I can trust you with me again. It hurts to admit that, but it's how I feel these days. So, a break for us is good right now, while leaving the door of possibility ajar."

Defeated, Arizona nods, unable to argue with Callie's thought process. Fighting back tears, she answers, "Okay." Noticing Sofia struggling to stay awake, Arizona says, "Sofia's tired. We should get going. "

Observing Sofia, Callie nods her head in agreement.

Walking together to the parking lot, Arizona thinks they at least had back and forth dialogue with a beginning, middle but no end; more like a 'to be continued'.

"I'll call in a couple days, Arizona. Let's take this day by day. We'll try for two weeks, and see how it goes; no guarantees though," Callie announces.

"Thanks, Callie. Thank you for being here. I promise I'll take good care of Sofia."

"Please text me when you get home," Callie requests.

Arizona smiles, "I will."

Callie gently straps Sofia into the car seat in Arizona's car. "I'll see you soon, kiddo. Be good for Mama. Love you Sofia," she says trying not to cry.

"Love you Mommy," the sleepy child answers.

"Bye Arizona."

"Thanks, Callie. I'll be in touch,"


xxxxxxxx


Returning to Pullman after 6 o'clock, Callie decides there is no way she is going to cook tonight. Seeing the Thai restaurant as she drives into town, she suddenly craves Chicken Pad Thai. Entering the restaurant, she orders, pays for her food and finds a seat in the waiting area. Checking her cell for messages, she notes Arizona's text from over an hour ago, saying they arrived home safely. Callie, reminded of the empty house she is returning to, selects a magazine to distract herself while her food is prepared. Oblivious to her surroundings, she loses herself in reading the latest gossip.

Hearing her number called, she quickly stands and turns, bumping into the customer ahead of he. "Excuse me. I'm so sorry."

"No, no, my fa….Callie?" the man says.

Looking up, Callie surprised says: "Jeff?"

"So we meet again, fair maiden," Jeff humorously replies. "Don't tell me you're having a quiet dinner for one?" noting her lone container.

"Well, umm, I am," she answers.

"Me too. What did you order?" Jeff asks.

"Chicken Pad Thai; why?"

"I love Chicken Pad Thai. I ordered Matsaman Curry. Could I convince you to join me for dinner? We'll tell them we changed our mind and eat here instead," Jeff suggests.

Callie noticeably balks at the offer.

"Look, it's not a date, if that's what you're worried about. You already paid for your food and I paid for mine. Eating alone is no fun; it's Saturday night. Please, Ms. Callie Torres?" he asks imploringly.

Smiling at his persistence, Callie relents: "Okay." She really didn't want to eat alone.

Jeff speaks with the hostess and changes their order to dine-in.

As they sit down, Jeff asks: "How about a Thai Mojito? They have the best ones here".

"It's been the kind of day where a Mojito would taste really good. I could definitely use one of those," Callie jokingly replies.

After a casual meal, full of easy conversation and comfortable companionship, Jeff walks Callie to her car. As he holds the door open for her, he observes the car seat, "You have a child?"

"I do, a girl," Callie proudly smiles.

Jeff looks at her with a tentative gaze. "I don't mean to be forward, but I didn't notice a ring. I hope I didn't put you in an uncomfortable situation, asking you to join me for dinner? I was persistent."

Shaking her head, Callie looks at him. "You didn't. Sofia is with her other parent for a bit; we share time with her. I'm separated right now. It's complicated," she forlornly answers.

Seeing her sadness, he places his hands on the side of each shoulder. "Look, those wounds still seem raw. The two times I've bumped into you, you've been on your own. Being separated doesn't mean you need to sequester yourself from the rest of the world. Let's have dinner again, sometime. Dutch-treat if it makes you feel better, okay?"

Relief spreads across her face. "Maybe, I'll think about it," Callie coyly answers.

"Here, put this someplace safe; it's my phone number. Please, when you're ready or just need a friend to talk to, call me. Okay?" He watches a small smile creep onto her face as she accepts his thoughtful gesture.

Watching Callie place the old receipt with his number in her wallet, Jeff shuts Callie's door, and watches her drive off.

He is intrigued by this new woman in town.