Well, this ain't over
No not here, not while I still need you around

Push - Matchbox 20

What had he done!? Tony's mind was a whirlwind of activity as he made his way from Ada's townhouse to his sister's complex. He opted for walking instead of taking the metro, hoping the movement would help his troubled thoughts find a way to repair the damage he'd caused. He expected Ada to be upset about his cowardice two years ago, but… to ask him to never return? He saw the hurt in her eyes, but he also saw determination, and it scared him. If there was one thing he remembered of his Ada, it was that she could be very determined, though maybe that would've been handy four years ago when her family opposed their union! NO! He wouldn't allow his bitterness of what could've been to trump his reason, he needed to see things from her perspective. That had been his mistake four years ago. He had only focused on his pain, felt his pride take a hit.

So what could he do now? She said she was done, that they had hurt each other too much. Argh! She was right of course; he'd hurt her knowingly and not. He knew it would be idiocy to force her into a conversation neither of them were ready for. He had fumbled this chance but he was damned if he would squander the next chance he got. And he was determined to get another. Two could play the stubborn game. They were not over, not while he still needed her.

Charlie followed his masters pacing, back and forth, back and forth, from living room to kitchen to patio, and back again. It looked like his master was once again having human troubles. The tall human with kind hands left, and his master started the pacing. Charlie concluded that canine life was much, much, much easier, less dramatic, and definitely less tiresome. For surely all that pacing was not how we wanted to spend this lovely afternoon. With that, he decided his afternoon nap was better taken in the music room and walked determinedly to his fluffy bed under the piano. His master was bound to figure things out sooner or later, hopefully, because all this pacing was sure to disturb his daily nap intake.

What had she done? As Ada paced throughout her small home, the question ran on loop though her mind. She had sent him away, and this time it seemed so final. Four years ago, she had held on to hope, hope that he'd return, hope that the love they shared was bigger than any obstacle. But as the years went by, her hope lessened and doubts crept in. Just when she was about to give up that hope, he returned and that flame of hops soared once more. Now, it seemed that that flame had been crushed by his heartless treatment. The emotional see-saw they'd been on for the past months definitely took its toll on her, and although her stubborn heart didn't want to completely let go of the hope, her mind warned her to extinguish any possible spark still left. She'd had enough of hurting, crying and waiting. Did she overreact? Perhaps…if she understood his motives for purposely wanting to hurt her, she'd allow her heart to decide this one. Argh! She was so confused! She wanted to scream and rant and rave and punch something, or someone, preferably John, though Tony would be a great substitute right now! How could he believe all this time she could move on so quickly? That she could move on at all? Didn't he know they could never be truly over? That when she choose to love him, she gave herself fully, and one cannot recover from such a love, one aught not, one does not. Her devotion to him seemed to outlast anything and everything, apparently. Because, even though she had been so resolute in her last words to him, deep down, they weren't real. She couldn't really bid him farewell. No, this wasn't over, they weren't over. Not while she still needed him.

Ada's mind went back and forth, should she retract or stand her ground. Though it is a woman's prerogative to change her mind, she was so afraid for her heart. Her heart ached for Tony, still, after all these years, but it also screamed at her to remember that he was the one that had done her wrong, jumped to conclusions, thought the worst of her, he should be the one making amends, the one to apologize. Suddenly, a distant memory of her dear mother made it past the clutter in her mind.

Ada came home from school to find her mother in the garden, and seemed upset. Ada quickly went to her and asked her what was wrong, suspecting the cause to be her father. Her mother swiped the tears, and smiling she said, "Ada my love, many will tell you to follow your heart and you will never go wrong, but I tell you the heart can be a fickle thing, it can lead you astray if you let it. It's better to let your mind do the talking once in a while, especially when dealing with someone you love." When Ada questioned her further, she said, "Because dear, sometimes, our pride can keep us from making peace, making up, and making love." She then went into the house, saying she needed to find her husband. Ada found them some time later in her father's study, her mother was sitting on her father's lap as they spoke softly to each other. At the moment, Ada remembered thinking her mother had caved; surely her father should've been the one to apologize. Yet, thinking back, the image of her parents, so lovingly in each others embrace trumped any thought of who was right or wrong. What did it really matter who apologized first, if they were both sorry? if they both made amends? Now she understood what her mother tried to tell her; sometimes, our emotions could take us in one direction, when we know we should be going in another.

Ada had a decision to make. She'd been quick to judge and condemn, and now she had to be brave and admit it. She prided herself in being able to think things through, being a sensible person, learn from the past. She had learned many lessons in her short life, and it was time to see if they took. One of those lessons came from her mother: humility. Sometimes seen as weakness, in the end, humility was the truest form of bravery. So, Ada chose to be brave.

Two months later…

"Thank you Mr. Lin, and tell Maddie she can come in any time and I'll help her adjust the strings for free." Ada smiled her last words to one of her favorite customers as she handed him the case with a new guitar for his daughter. Odd that a piano prodigy was suddenly interested in the guitar, and even more odd, that her demanding father was indulging her. Well, Ada thought, good for him, and good for her. She was glad to be able to provide another young heart with music.

The past couple of months had been rough for Ada. The police had been unable to locate John, it was as if he fell off the face of the earth. Ada was not afraid of him any longer. She was sure he'd leave her alone, too afraid of repercussions. So she put him out of her mind and delved into the running of her little store. That had been her salvation. Her body had healed fairly quickly and she spent every chance she got at the store, whether sorting inventory, going through the books, arranging schedules, or giving lessons. She found such fulfillment in seeing her store flourish and grow. The delight she got in seeing regulars stop by, friends congregate in the lounge she'd created with Emilia's help towards the back of the store, and through it all, she'd done it with her heart in pieces, but no one was the wiser. Well, maybe not no one. Anna had stopped by almost every day, trying to coax her into sharing her thoughts, inviting her over for dinner every night. Ada attended on some nights, never a fool to pass one of Anna's meals, but her mouth remained close to that topic. To him.

No, Ada was shut-off from speaking of him. She had to be if she wanted to survive every day. They didn't need to know her day began and ended with thoughts of him. They didn't need to know she checked her phone millions of times for a call that never came, or text that never appeared. They didn't need to know she cried herself to sleep almost every night. No, they didn't need to know she'd fallen apart again, just like the first time. Well, maybe not entirely like the first time. This time, she blamed herself. She had sent him away and he had respected her wishes. Could she really blame him for doing exactly as she asked? She knew she could probably call his sister and find out how he was, but something kept her from doing that. It wasn't pride. She knew without a doubt, if he came back for her she wouldn't think twice about asking for forgiveness and jumping into his arms. No it wasn't pride, it was something much more painful. She was convinced that this time, he didn't want her anymore. That if he stayed away, it was because he was able to move on. That having tried once more, and been rejected once more, was too much for his heart to take. Who was she to demand he try again? She couldn't ask him to do so, and going to him was almost like forcing him to do so. She wouldn't do that to him, at least not without having some sign that he was open to it. She would be willing to take first step if she only knew he would accept her. Yes, it was cowardly of her to want to be sure, to have a safety net in place before jumping, but then again, she was only so brave.

So, she walked the streets of downtown with Charlie every day, went to Do Re Mi every day, and ate almost every night at the Ellises. Then she went home, and wrote on her journal, and tried to fall asleep without him. She wrote her successes and failures for the day on that journal, hoping that in letting them escape in those pages, they would escape her mind altogether. But most of all, she wrote about all the things that could've been, because though she didn't have the heart to share it with anyone else, her journal was privy to it all. One day, she might share it with someone, but for now, the journal was the only escape for her troubled thoughts, and her pillow the only escape for her bitter tears.

Two months, eight weeks. It had been two months, 63 days since he'd beheld her face. It definitely had been a whirlwind month. Moving states again had been more work than the last time. Granted, last time, he had not cared what he left behind. He'd been able to sell his condo within days, at a profit, gotten his dog ready for the trip, and setup a general director for his L.A. office. Parker had not been too keen on the idea of moving so fast, but when Tony left no room for negotiation, he cooperated in selecting a director. Ezra Bloomfield would work out very well, having many contacts in the business, thanks for his famous architect father, which suited Avant Designs perfectly.

Though his actions had been purposeful, and swift, his thoughts and worries tangled together with doubt. What if he gave her too much time and space? What if she'd moved on or simply gotten over him? He knew he took a gamble by not contacting her at all for two whole months, but he wanted to show her he was able to respect her wishes when asked. He wanted to earn her trust once more, and if that meant he needed to suffer a long separation, with no communication, then he would do it. He would prove that he would do anything for her. Deciding to move back to Portland was also part of the plan. He wanted to show her with actions that he was willing to put everything he had on the line for them. If he had to work from the ground up to win her back, he would.

He was now living in the same building as his sister, subletting a condo from an Expat that only rarely visited the country. He was in her vicinity, so close the thought had him dizzy with anticipation. As he walked the downtown streets once again with the smells and sounds welcoming him back, Tony knew he was here to stay. No more delays, no more second thoughts, no more waiting. He was here for her, to win her back, to be one once and for all. He had a plan, he had allies, and he was determined. So he ordered his coffee, and sat at the window booth of her morning stop, The Fresh Pot, and waited.

He saw her before she could spot him. She had entered The Fresh Pot, as expected, and now stood at the counter ready to order. All he had to do was wait, and hope his plan would work. Suddenly, as if sensing his eyes on her, she slowly turned towards the corner where he sat, and just like that all else ceased to exist.