Disclaimer: Without Prejudice. The recognisable characters herein are the property of Warner Brothers, Michael Crichton and Amblin Entertainment, all of whom have more money and power than I ever will. I don't own them and I never will. Please don't sue, all I own worth having is probably my toaster, and even the ownership of that is in some doubt. Honestly, I don't own the house I live in, the car I drive or even the laptop I write this on. I do, however, own Jenny, Mina, Karen, Becca, Kristen, Sarah et al, any aspects of Bret not revealed on the show, Louisa and Daniel.
Content/Warnings: Mild cursing – AU - Future fic - implied sexuality
Spoilers: None.
Author's Notes: Yes, yes. I know this has taken forever and I apologise. However, I have been forced into resting (my own journal explains this in more detail, but I'm off my feet due to a knee injury at the moment), and hence have had nothing else to do but write. Oh, and spot the delibarate shout out to one of my favourite Season 12 moments
Second Time Around
Chapter 14
Ray tucked the key into his pocket. Barely four weeks after first viewing, and he'd just secured his very first home. The estate agents door swung shut with a loud thunk and he stepped out into the sunshine. It was a warm early August day.
And he was a homeowner.
His mother would probably fall over when she heard. Bret very nearly had.
It was a pretty house. Beige panelled, Victorian, three bedrooms, big living area and separate kitchen, upstairs and downstairs bathrooms, and lots of outside space. Mina approved, which he guessed was probably the most important thing. Neela hadn't even seen the place, even though it was pretty much right around the corner from her own house.
The decoration wasn't exactly his taste, but there was time to change that.
Plus, he'd have to find furniture from somewhere. He wasn't even sure where one went to get furniture. The previous owners had left all the white goods, the carpets and curtains and the bedroom furniture – it was a set and now it was constructed nigh on impossible to get down the stairs again, so it had been negotiated as part of the deal.
He wasn't sure where he was supposed to find time.
Lincoln Memorial was, it turns out, pretty under-staffed. He was kept busy. And of course, he was a curiosity. Big city doctor in a small town hospital. He tried to keep them sweet, but the whispers got irritating after a while.
There were so many versions of his past going round the hospital; he had to admit he found it hilarious. He had to smile every time he heard a new one. None were even close to the truth, which was much more mundane than any one of the gossiping nurses had guessed.
And none of them even knew about Mina yet. He couldn't wait for that revelation.
He took it upon himself on this pleasant afternoon to walk to his new home. Rolling those words around in his head, it still didn't make much sense. This really was what growing up felt like.
And besides, going to his actual home wasn't a pleasant thought.
He quickly turned his thoughts away from Neela, because there was no place for anger in his afternoon.
It was simply too bright a day for that.
O-o-O-o-O
He'd been keen, too keen really, to get out of Neela's presence. Jenny had offered to help, and so here they were. He was almost officially moved into his new house, merely two days after closing on it.
It had been empty, and hence it did need to be aired, but other than that everything was in order. He pushed his front door shut with a foot, and followed Jenny into the hallway.
The redhead pushed the last box she was carrying on top of the stack already accumulated in the hallway, then moved into the living room.
"Well," Jenny looked around approvingly, "I hope you're very happy in your new home."
"You like?" Ray placed the last bag down by his feet.
"It's neat." Jenny replied, eyes slightly wide, appealingly child-like, as she swung to face him. "And not too far away either."
"Uh," Ray faltered, "yeah."
"Oh come on," Jenny tore her eyes away from the surroundings and met his. "things'll work out."
"It's been weeks."
"And how many times have you tried to apologise?" Jenny demanded sharply. He swung his eyes away guiltily. "I live there too, Ray, remember?"
"Well," Ray's demeanour changed, resistant to Jenny's challenge, "it's not really a problem any more is it?"
"Yes," Jenny answered bluntly "it is, Ray, because there's still Mina. The tension isn't good for her."
O-o-O-o-O
Jenny returned from Ray's still not sure whether she'd gotten through to him or not. It hadn't been much of a move – he hadn't had that much stuff – but it was only manners to help out. Plus, it was bonus to get away from the house at the moment.
Neela was bent over last night's dishes, furiously attacking a casserole dish with a scourer, when Jenny entered the kitchen. She observed the actions quietly for a second, before speaking.
"Well, he's gone." Jenny brushed her hands on her jeans, keen eyes trained on her roommate. "Don't look so happy about it."
Neela straightened, back suddenly poker straight, dish forgotten and turned.
"What do you mean by that?" She shot back accusingly.
"You've had a face on for weeks now." Jenny threw back, equally caustic. "And the atmosphere in the house has dropped about 20 degrees every time the two of you are in the room together."
"That's not true." Neela dismissed. "You're imagining things."
"Neela, I know what he said." The redhead returned, shock crossing Neela's face instantly. "And quite frankly, you're acting like a child."
"I'm…" Neela spluttered, her face practically turning purple. "I'm what?"
"You're acting like a child." Jenny repeated, firmly, watching Neela squirm and try to cover indignation with something else.
"You know nothing about it, Jenny." Neela planted her hands on her hips, feet shoulder width apart. It was a defensive stance that Jenny knew only too well. "I've tried…he's the one…"
"OK. So you're both acting like children then." Jenny shrugged, the fact a mere technicality. Her ire was up and Neela wasn't walking away from it this time. "But the fact remains that it's gone on long enough. Whatever the hell it is that you two haven't dealt with yet needs to be dealt with so we can all move the fuck on with our lives."
Neela's eyebrows shot up into her hairline, and Jenny bit back the urge to smile. She had to be taken seriously on this matter.
"I'm sorry to be so blunt, Neela." Jenny sighed, pulling back her bitterness just slightly. "But don't you think…well, don't you think maybe you're being a bit unreasonable in all this?"
Neela didn't reply. Jenny sighed again, frustratedly pulling her red hair back into a rough approximation of a ponytail with her hands. She was fidgeting, irritated, did she really have to spell this out?
Neela was a doctor, an educated woman, who couldn't see what was wrong with her behaviour.
"Neela," Jenny began, biting her lip, "he's tired of it. Every time he tries to do the right thing, he gets shot down in flames. Every single time he tries, you throw the past 5 years in his face like it was his fault."
o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O
Jenny skulked into the living room quietly, sliding the holdall along with her feet. Neela looked up from the couch, placing the book she'd been reading on her knee.
"You know, it's not compulsory I go to Chicago." Jenny was verbally dragging her heels, and Neela glared at her.
"You've told Bret you're going," Neela pointed out, almost coldly, "and you are not letting that man down again."
Jenny opened her mouth to protest. Neela cut her off.
"He's been up and down like a bloody yoyo with you." Neela sighed. "Some days I wonder why he's still around."
"Neela - " Even Jenny hated the petty schoolgirl tone to her voice.
"Just do the right thing, Jenny." Neela said, tone returning to even. "Go and celebrate the man's birthday with him, it'll do you good to get out."
"And you?" Jenny asked. "What about you?"
"What about me?" Neela shrugged. "Oh, I see. You were offering to stay to mediate. Well, there's no need."
Jenny stared at her friend disbelievingly for a second.
"There's no need, Jenny," Neela turned her back so her expression wouldn't belie her. "we're both adults."
"Oh yeah." Jenny retorted sarkily. "There's been a lot of evidence of that recently."
"Oh, go, will you?" Neela spat back. "You'll be late."
"Fine," Jenny swiped her overnight bag from the floor, grabbed her car keys from the key rack. "I'll call you when I get there,"
She shouted over her shoulder, as the door slammed shut in her wake.
O-o-O-o-O
This was the right address…wasn't it? Jenny looked down at the piece of paper in her hand, and back up at the brass number on the door in front of her.
Yes. So why wasn't he answering the door?
She sighed in frustration. There weren't even the sounds of footsteps inside the apartment. Could he have gone out? He was expecting her.
A quick glance at her watch confirmed that she was, in fact, slightly early. 3:00pm. The traffic was better than she expected, she drove with her foot to the floor, she was just glad to be out of Lincoln. There was any number of excuses for that.
She slung the overnight bag back over her shoulder, and was about to trudge back down the stairs to see if she could rouse the super and persuade him to let her in, when the door swung open.
Jenny turned back, a smile beginning to form, to be greeted by a somewhat sullen figure, dressed only in t-shirt and boxers, who definitively was not Bret. She frowned.
"I'm - " She smiled, going to offer the figure her hand.
"Jenny." The figure pre-empted, disinterestedly. Jenny felt her smile begin to fade. "And I'm going back to bed. Make yourself at home."
Jenny was too shell-shocked to move for a moment. The figure trailed back down the hallway, and she heard a door slam shut.
"Nice to meet you too." Jenny muttered to herself sarcastically, clicking the apartment door shut behind her. She took a brief look around the living room – spotlessly clean, though she knew that was probably only for her benefit – and quite firmly male. It had a nice feel about it though – it was a home, not just four walls.
She put her bag by the sofa and sat herself down.
O-o-O-o-O
Late afternoon slipped into early evening, and Bret was tired and irritable by the time he slid his key into the door at 5pm. He was somewhat later than he'd intended. The last client of the day had been more complicated than it first appeared.
"Hey," He pushed the door open, "anyone – "
He cut himself off when he spotted the sofa. Dark red hair spilled over the arm in loose waves, almost reaching the floor. He smiled, put his work stuff down softly by the door, and padded across to the sleeping figure.
Jenny had her head on the arm, her body curled in on itself. One arm was crossed protectively over her chest; the other hand was fisted under her chin. Bret sighed – unable to imagine a more perfect sight at that moment.
He perched on the edge of the coffee table, elbows on his knees, summoning up the courage to wake her. For a good long minute, he allowed himself to be completely absorbed by every detail of the way she slept, how vulnerable and childlike and jaw-droppingly beautiful every inch of her was.
Eventually, he bent over the sleeping form, brushed the hair back from her ear.
"Hey Sleeping Beauty," He whispered. Bravery and temptation got the better of him as he dropped a light kiss on her cheek as an accompaniment.
Jenny sighed deeply, shifted onto her back and stretched her legs. Sleepy grey eyes flickered open, lips slightly parted in a tiny smile.
"That make you Prince Charming then?"
Bret chuckled softly. Jenny pushed the rest of her hair out of her eyes, but made no effort to get up. Her eyes were heavy with sleep, but mischief lurked not far beyond.
"I guess it does."
"Well," A hand snaked up to grip his collar. "What kind of a wake-up kiss was that?"
Their lips collided halfway, Bret on his way down, Jenny on her way up. Fingers fisted tight into the material of his shirt, and made it entirely clear he wasn't getting away anytime soon. Not that he wanted to – this was an entirely welcome distraction from his aching muscles.
"Happy birthday," Jenny broke away, slightly breathless, a cute pink flush on her cheeks.
"It's - " Jenny smiled and brought her finger to his lips as he began to correct her.
"I know - " The smile was just the right mix of wicked and innocent, something Jenny knew only too well. "I'm just letting you know what to expect."
"Oh." Bret sat back. Jenny waited for her words to strike home properly. Blue eyes widened, and his jaw slackened ever so slightly. "Oh."
He repeated, suddenly monosyllabic. Jenny flicked her gaze away, suddenly coy, but still smiling.
"So, I did make dinner reservations for tonight, but…"
He trailed off suggestively.
"No - " Jenny began, feeling a hand creep onto her thigh. She batted it away. "Bret! No. No need to rush things too much. We should go."
"It's a little place, near Navy Pier." Bret elaborated. He'd booked it weeks back – his favourite little Italian restaurant – before he even knew Jenny was definitely coming. It was nice when a plan came together, he thought. "We could go watch the fireworks afterwards."
"Sounds good," Jenny smiled, pushing herself upright on the sofa. "you want to wash up first? You look like it was a tough day."
"Yeah," Bret stood, stretching out mildly achy shoulders. "thanks. You can put your stuff in my room if you want - "
O-o-O-o-O
Jenny dragged a hand through her hair, threw aside another top in frustration. She should have done this earlier. Having options was never a success story.
She could hear the shower going down the hallway, old plumbing causing the pipes to creak and rattle every so often. The room was surprisingly tidy, and modern. There were bits and pieces of music paraphernalia around, and a very cute picture of Bret with a black haired woman and a tiny, brunette toddler Jenny assumed to be his sister and niece, Karen and Becca.
The bed was even made. She had to admit, she was impressed.
Back to the decision in hand, Jennifer.
She thought sharply.
Jenny sighed. She had two outfits to choose from, given the balmy nature of the August evening. She'd already discarded a sequinned navy tank as too informal, and a cream sweater as too heavy, leaving her with a spaghetti strapped, empire-line black cotton dress with green trim and a royal blue, puff sleeved fitted blouse and black Capri pants.
She narrowed her eyes at the two outfits.
Footsteps on the wooden living room floor alerted her to the fact a decision needed to be made. She scooped the blouse and pants into her arms, stashed the dress back into her overnight bag.
"Shower's free," Bret opened the door, towelling his hair, a white cotton towel anchored haphazardly on his hips. Jenny bit hard on her lip and forced her eyes upwards.
"I put towels out for you," She flashed him a quick smile in thanks, before scurrying across the living room. She suspected the temperature dial on the shower would be turned way down, simply to bring her body temperature back into normal range.
He really did a number on her that was for sure.
O-o-O-o-O
Strands of hair kept falling into her eyes as she attempted to concentrate on applying mascara. She had already poked herself in the eye twice – leaving black smudges on her contact lenses.
Her bra strap was creeping its way down her shoulder. Jenny swiped at it irritably. She was determined to look spectacular, but she felt a mess already.
"Jenny - " Bret called. " – we should be thinking about leaving,"
"Coming," She returned, straightening and casting a final approving glance. Her fingers toyed with the top button on her blouse, eventually leaving it done up. She grabbed the black shrug from her bag, slicked on some pale pink lip-gloss and swiped her evening bag from by the sink.
"Will I do?" Jenny executed a neat twirl just inside the living room, right in his eye line. "Can you be seen with me?"
"I - " Bret smiled, a little lost for words. Jenny blushed. " - yeah, you'll do. Come on, I'm hungry."
O-o-O-o-O
Jenny shivered as she stepped back into the night air, having gotten used to the warm, fragrant atmosphere in the restaurant.
"Chicago nights are not quite as warm as the days," Bret smiled down at her, reaching for the black shrug over her arm.
"Yeah," She gave a coy smile, as he helped her into the garment, hands brushing lightly over her shoulders. A shiver passed down her spine for an entirely different reason. Her fingers fumbled the ties on the front, but eventually, garment secure, she looked up at him.
He was smiling, and it made her feel like she was the centre of the universe. Bret offered her his elbow, and she contentedly linked arms with him, sliding her forearm along the length of his and knotting long, slender fingers between his against his hip.
"I…I can see why you love this city." Jenny opened, after a few minutes of wandering in a relaxed silence. She'd been to Chicago a few times before, but she had to admit she hadn't quite seen it in this light until now.
"It's home," Bret replied. "I've never really known anywhere else."
"That's how I feel about Lincoln," Jenny laughed lightly. "damn, that sounds stupid, right?"
Bret shook his head, and Jenny continued talking.
"I always…I just guess I always wondered what else was out there, y'know?" She shrugged, feeling slightly ineloquent. "Felt that there might be a world outside of Lincoln, outside of people I've known my whole life."
"There's no harm in that, Jenny," Bret said gently. "it's not disloyal to think that way. You…"
He paused, sighed, tightened his fingers in hers.
"…you always seemed to me to be more than Lincoln. It just doesn't do you justice, Jenny. It feels like it's containing you in a way you shouldn't be contained."
Jenny lifted her eyes, turned to look at him.
"Am I making any sense?" He asked, smiling down at her. "At all?"
She nodded.
"You put it better than I could have." Jenny replied. "Thank you."
"I knew it from the moment I met you," Bret continued. "has it ever been an option? Getting out, I mean?"
"Maybe…" Jenny said wistfully. They stopped walking, finding a spot on the railings close to the big wheel that dominated the skyline of Navy Pier. She leant forward, staring out over the lake. Bret kept his hand locked into hers, and she was glad of it. Of the company and the honesty. "…when I was younger. I…could have gone to college outside of Lincoln. I was offered a place at Northwestern. Things just didn't work out."
"What would you…?" Bret broke off. "What did you want to be?"
"I always thought I'd give teaching a shot." Jenny sighed. "English, probably, or History."
"You know," Bret said, staring off into the distance himself. "It's never too late."
"I know." Jenny conceded softly. "This is turning into a pretty sombre birthday. Shall we talk about something else?"
"Like?" Bret questioned lightly.
"Anything, Bret," Jenny replied, tone equally light and frivolous, pleased at the subject change. There was only so much honesty she could take in one evening. Questions rushed into her brain, the little things she didn't yet know about him. "Like what's your favourite colour? Are you a dog or a cat person? Anything you like."
"Red." Bret answered, staring straight at her. Jenny blushed to the roots of her hair, mildly embarrassed by the inference in his tone. "And I'm a dog person. Cats are too…aloof for me."
Jenny smiled.
"Blue." She returned in kind, holding his gaze. "And me too."
"So," She felt his body inch closer to her, bringing their joined hand across her back. "are we a match made in heaven or what?"
Her head turned, feeling the warmth of his breath on her cheek, and met his lips. Without ever breaking the kiss, he turned them away from the railing and brought her flush against him. Jenny was vaguely aware of the fireworks starting in the background, of the crowds around them, but she was too busy losing herself in him, focussing on the feeling between them to really notice.
"Now those – " Bret broke off, kissing the corner of her mouth one last time before straightening. Jenny had to tilt her head slightly to keep her gaze on him. " – are the kind of fireworks I like."
"Shall we head home?" Jenny asked, knowing the question was, after that, virtually rhetorical.
o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O
Saturday in Lincoln was not the ideal day to be going shopping. Neela, already flustered, pulled the dress shut and began to do up the poppers. Mina squirmed, all legs and arms and movement. It was infuriating.
"Mina!" Neela glared at the 5 year old, who was getting on her last nerve now. She loved her daughter dearly, but there were days when Mina's precocious ways and dramatic tendencies just wore her down. Today was one of those days. "Stand still."
"But mom…" Neela set her jaw against the pleading tone. She'd probably have earned herself a clip round the ear for that petulance when she was a kid. But the one person she'd always promised herself she'd never become was her mother.
" "But mom" nothing, Mina." The words were clipped and impatient, and Mina's face instantly fell. "The sooner you act sensibly about this, the sooner it's over and we can go have ice cream."
"We can?" Bartering with her daughter like that made her feel like a poor excuse for a mother, but today she was just too tired to argue merely on principle. Strawberry ice cream was a good way to get Mina to behave, and so she played to the little girls known weaknesses. Besides, she thought wearily, the sugar rush might do her some good too.
"Yes." Neela said firmly. "On the condition that you are as good as gold while we go get your school shoes?"
Mina grimaced. Neela didn't blame her. Black, sensible, thick-soled and inelegant school shoes had never been her favourite clothing item either.
"I know," Neela sighed. "but you're growing so fast last years don't fit you."
"Can daddy come meet us for ice cream?"
Neela rolled her eyes. This petulant mood the five year old was in was entirely down to the absence of her father from this shopping trip. Mina had become kind of insistent recently about the whole matter – whenever her mother told her they couldn't afford something, or didn't have the money, the immediate response was "but daddy does" or "daddy can,"
"I think he's working, sweetheart."
The lie was bitter on her tongue. It was his weekend off – she knew that. Mina frowned at her, pulled agitatedly at the checked school dress she was wearing.
"He's always working."
Her fist clenched automatically behind her back. This conversation, the very tone of it, was leading them down a potentially dark path. If Mina was an adult, she would be aware of that, but she was a child. She didn't have a sense of reason.
"He wouldn't be able to afford his new house if he didn't work, sweetie,"
"Why does he need the new house?" Mina pouted. Neela fought to retain control. "Couldn't he stay with us?"
"Not forever,"
"Why not?"
"Mina – " The growl was enough to silence the girl. She looked almost cowed. Neela supposed that was partially her own fault – Mina had rarely, if ever, been spoken to in less than friendly, appeasing tones in her 5 years. Neela just prayed the next stage after the silence wouldn't be tears.
"Is everything OK?" The shop assistant intervened. Neela tugged a hand through her ruffled black hair, looked over her shoulder, giving the brightest smile she felt she could manage.
"Yes, thank you," She reached for the zipper on the dress. "she's just fractious today. Over-tired."
Neela offered by way of explanation, suddenly aware everyone in the shop had been able to hear them, and acutely embarrassed by that fact.
"Can I get you anything else?"
"Have you got another of these in same size?" Neela asked, keen to make the shop assistant go away. "You know what kids are like."
It was an understanding, if slightly vapid, smile she got in return before the perfectly groomed older woman nodded and turned away. Neela quickly helped Mina redress in the jeans and t-shirt she'd chosen to wear this morning. The girl was clearly sulking and unhelpful in every way possible.
Neela grabbed the small hand in her own, dragged Mina at her heels to the cash desk.
Moments later, still dragging an increasingly reticent Mina behind her, she snatched the carrier bag from the desk and left the shop, the irritating tinkle of the door bell echoing in her head.
It was going to be a long day.
O-o-O-o-O
'Can you take Mina tonight? She's desperate to see you. I could do with the break. Neela.'
Neela watched her daughter shovel the ice cream into her mouth, concentrating hard on every mouthful. She smiled, wearily, and hit send on her cell.
She flipped the cell phone shut, placed it on the table and picked up her coffee. The bitter liquid was welcome on her tongue. More welcome was the chance to sit still. They had been shopping all day, and finally Mina had her entire new school uniform – not without some protest with regards the most practical shoes.
A few minutes went by, before the phone buzzed.
Mina's head shot up, eyes on the illuminated front screen. Neela snatched it out of her reach.
'Sure. Be happy to. Bring her round whenever.'
'Thanks.'
Her fingers moved quickly over the keys as she replied. The phone slapped shut with a thwack, and Neela locked eyes with her daughter. .
"D'ya fancy going to daddy's new house tonight?"
Mina grinned, the melted remnants of her ice cream evident around the edges of rosebud pink lips. Neela smiled back.
"Thought so." Neela reached over the Formica tabletop and wiped her daughters face. "You finished?"
Mina nodded.
"Then let's go."
O-o-O-o-O
Neela couldn't sleep. It was annoying her, because it was the first night in ages where she wouldn't be woken by Jenny coming in from the bar at all hours after work or by her daughter at some ridiculous hour in the morning. She'd twisted the sheets around herself tossing and turning, trying to keep her eyes shut for longer than 10 minutes.
Her mind was just too active. Try as she might, she couldn't get it – him – she corrected, out of her head. Jenny may have been unnecessarily harsh, but there was a grain of truth in what she'd said.
Sighing heavily, she looked at the clock. It was nearly midnight. She slid out of bed, the wood floor cold against bare feet, and padded to the dresser. She yanked out a grey sweatshirt and socks.
The house was worryingly quiet, none of the comforting noises of other sleeping human beings that normally pervaded the nighttime around her. She walked downstairs, past Jenny's bedroom – unaccustomed to the lack of shuffling and tiny snorting noises emanating from behind the door – past Mina's bedroom, bed still perfectly made from this morning.
She thought of her daughter, tucked up safely in another bed, not minutes away from where she stood. She and Mina had barely ever been separated in 5 years, and somehow, it tugged at her heartstrings in a way she knew was illogical.
Mina was with her father. She was safe.
This was entirely alien to her. Sharing her daughter, her responsibility, with someone else. The past few months had been…Neela struggled for words, unsure what her dominant emotion actually was.
She guessed strange was as good a word as any, but it didn't really go all the way to explaining the situation.
It was fear, she supposed, taking a glass from over the sink and filling it with crisp, clear water. That was what made her behave as she did. It was a poor excuse, but it was the only one she had.
Fear of him. Of what he meant to Mina, of what he was to Mina. Of what he had been to her. Of what he still was to her. That frightened her most – that everything they'd ever been was so clear and present – in front of her stark and bright and so tangible again. She could reach out and almost touch the past again, those feelings and stolen moments, in a way that frightened her beyond reason.
She swallowed the water quickly, gulping to try and clear her head.
It was irrational, maybe, but it was real.
Wasn't the only way to get over fear to confront it?
Neela placed the glass down by the sink, her every movement deliberate and slow, mind working overtime.
To confront him.
She shrugged and frowned to herself.
Before she could analyse her reaction any further, she slid her feet into her training shoes and grabbed keys from the hook in the hallway. It was only three blocks to Ray's after all, and who'd be out at midnight anyway?
o-O-o-O-o-O
Neela stood on the street, staring up the pathway to his door for a long five minutes before she got up the nerve to walk up it. Even in the inky blackness, it was a nice house – solidly put together, pretty, good size plot. There were plenty of trees Neela was sure Mina would have excellent fun exploring, and a pretty front veranda.
She tried to force practicalities out of her brain for once, focus herself on feeling something. On allowing her emotions to have control, just for one conversation.
She registered the shock on his face when he answered the door, even through the screen door, bathed in the dull glow from the porch light. Neela turned her face into a small, apologetic smile.
"I know it's late."
She half expected the door to slam back in her face, but instead a look of relief flickered across his face. Relief that she'd made the first move, and saved him the effort. The embarrassment.
"Neela."
"I didn't get you up, did I?"
He unhitched the screen door, beckoned her inside.
"No," Ray replied eventually, following his guest into the living room. "no, I was still up. Can I get you anything?"
"No, thanks," Neela turned to face him, hands tucked into the front pocket of her sweatshirt, fingers pulling at bits of fluff absently. Ray regarded her, head on one side, slightly puzzled expression on his face.
"Is that…?" He gestured to her sweat top. Neela glanced down at the logo on her shirt – realising it was from a university she'd never attended. He'd given it to her one night in the apartment, back in Chicago, when she'd been cold. She'd never given it back. She wished she could honestly say it was only because she'd forgotten she had it, but it wasn't. "It is. I was looking for that."
"Sorry," Neela apologised instinctively. "I forgot I had it. Didn't think it mattered after 5 years."
"It doesn't - " He broke off, tearing his eyes off the shirt and re-focusing on her face. "- it's just weird seeing you in it again."
"Nice house," Neela changed the subject abruptly.
"Is that what you came here in the middle of the night to say?"
"No." She affirmed, decisively. "No, it's not."
Neela shuffled her feet against the threadbare carpet, feeling slight unevenness in the floorboards beneath. Her resolve wobbled briefly.
"I came here to apologise."
"Apologise?" He couldn't help the note of sarcasm in his voice, feeling an outside hand in Neela's actions and disliking it intensely. "Jenny put you up to this?"
"Jenny's in Chicago, Ray." Neela shot back, tone designed to be cutting. "And no, I did this of my own free will."
"Are you doing it because you mean it - " He broke off, regarding her reaction closely, scrutinising the confused expression intently. " – or because you hope it's what I want to hear, that it'll make things right?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yeah, Neela." The tone was insistent, verging on combative. He hated it, but his temper was so close to the surface he couldn't help himself. "It matters to me."
"Both. Everything." The words rushed into each other, accompanied by uncharacteristically chaotic hand gestures. She was thrown, and it made her nervous. "All of it."
"Do you think - " Ray was suddenly aware how loud his voice was getting, and lowered his tone, keeping the words clipped and harsh. " – do you seriously think it's enough?"
Neela sighed, cast her eyes downwards. She felt body heat closer to her own than it was before, tried not to flinch away.
"It's all I have - " She said plaintively. "It's all I ever have, Ray. It's all I can do."
"Whose fault is that? Huh, Neela?" His challenge trod on a nerve, and she felt herself gape involuntarily. He continued, each word a little more bitter than the last. "Whose fault is it that "sorry" is the only word you have?"
"Ray -" He had heard her say his name like that before. That pleading edge to her voice when someone's demanding answers of her, demanding a truth she doesn't have.
"No, I've been rational and I've been reasonable and it's gotten me nowhere." The words were virtually no more than a raised whisper, but they were close enough that Neela felt that they were being shouted at her, forceful and threatening. "You can't expect to come here at midnight and get the soft side of my tongue, Neela. You don't deserve it either."
She screwed her hands into tight balls, pushing them down, deforming the front pocket so it resembled the snakes currently tying her stomach in knots.
"Sometimes, I think you forget who left whom. Who, exactly, was betrayed here? I've been…as conciliatory as a man can be expected to be given the circumstances. And time and time again, it gets thrown back at me." He paused, drew a long breath. "How well you managed for the last 5 years without me, how Mina didn't need me for the previous 5 years."
"I…" Neela faltered – answers and excuses and protests apparently useless.
"It's tiring, Neela." Ray admitted, dropping animated hands to his side. "Exhausting, in fact. You're so defensive all the time,"
"Defensive?" She challenged, narrowing her eyes, glitteringly angry. "Don't I –"
"Defensive, Neela." He muttered, irritated. "It's infuriating. I didn't miss those 5 years by choice, so stop using them as a weapon, will you?"
Neela felt her defences take a direct hit. He knew, of course he knew. The walls she'd built around herself suddenly felt shakier than they had for 5 years.
"You left me, you walked away, you chose to do this alone."
"I...I…" Neela spluttered, anger choking her.
"I loved you, Neela." He exclaimed, frustration and irritation exploding to the surface in the simplest terms he could think of. Neela rocked back on her heels at the very vehemence of the statement. "In fact, dammit, I still do. And I'm doing my best to help you but you're so fucking proud."
"I lov - " Neela began instinctively, his words filtering into her brain. She reeled when she realised what he'd just said. Her response broke itself off, and she felt her jaw drop ever so slightly. "Wait, what?"
Ray blinked rapidly, his resolve wavering. Had he really just…? Damn. That was really stupid.
"I…I didn't mean - " He cut himself off, ran a hand through his hair. "Shit."
"Well," Neela murmured, chewing on the edge of her lip. She really wasn't quite sure what she should say. Somehow, it didn't matter. She could get mad and push him away again, go on the extreme defensive. Or she could soften and let him in.
Whatever happened was going to hurt.
"Neela – "
"Don't…just let me…" She brought a hand up to silence him, to stop his explanation before it started. "Fuck, Ray. Do you know what you just said?"
He closed his eyes, exhaled slowly and deliberately from between clenched teeth. He nodded.
"Yeah." He admitted quietly, clearly embarrassed. "Can you forget I said it? I…"
"I can't forget – " Neela affirmed, allowing her edges to bend and soften, her defensiveness melting down. " – so the question really is, can you forgive?"
"I already – " The lies would have been easy, but just that…a lie. So he corrected himself. "I'm working on it."
"And I promise I'll work on being less – "
"Defensive…" He broke across her, lightly mocking. She narrowed her eyes in return. "Controlling…"
Decisively, she grabbed for his hand, smiling wryly at the surprise in his eyes when she did so. Their hands made contact, and it'd be stupid to deny it felt the same way as it always had.
"Proud…?"
"Yes." Neela allowed the smile to form fully now, filter into her eyes, and she squeezed the familiar hand in hers. "All of that."