December 19, 2009

"Oh, Katie girl," her father says. "I'm sorry."

Beckett angrily wipes at the wayward tears sluicing down her cheeks.

"I'm trying so hard to keep it together. I..." she collapses into her side of the booth at Remy's. "I love him...or I thought I did." She looks at her dad. "How did you know mom was the one?"

Jim laughs softly. "It took me three years to figure out I was in love with her."

Surprise crests in Beckett's eyes. "You never told me that before."

"People talk about love at first sight and being struck by a bolt of lightning, but it was more of a slow burn with your mother. It's not the same for everyone." Jim puts a hand over hers. "Some people just know."

"What do you think of Will?"

"I like him," he says diplomatically, "Strong jawline."

"Dad, I'm serious."

"Katie, I can't tell you how to feel, but if you really think he's being unfaithful, then you should talk to him. Find out the truth. What are you so scared of?"

She drags her fork across her empty plate, fiddling with the crumbs of her apple pie.

"I'm scared of finding out that I'm right," she confesses. "My old training officer always told me to put my heart ahead of the job. So when Will proposed and asked me to move...I said yes. I thought he was the one."

She sighs.

"But if he is cheating, then I made the wrong choice. And that means I can't trust my instincts anymore."

"People change sometimes. You can't predict that. No one can," Jim says.

"You make it sound so simple."

"That's when I know I'm doing my job right as a parent."

Beckett's mouth lifts into a small smile.

"What do you think mom would say?" she asks.

"She was a devout believer in the truth. And if she were here right now, she'd tell you the truth can never hurt you," he answers.

"Never?"

"Would you rather live a lie?"

"I hate it when you lawyer me," she says, scrunching her eyes together.

"All in a day's work."

She throws a napkin at his face and he chuckles.

Later, they take the stairs up to his fourth floor walk-up as Jim chatters about the Yankees game and not wanting to miss the opening pitch, but they both stop short at the sight of a slumped figure by the doorway.

Beckett ushers her dad behind her as she slowly approaches the figure. "Will?" she asks, when she recognizes her fiancé's build. The federal agent raises his head, blearily staring up at her.

"Kate?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" she demands.

Will rubs at his eyes and quickly scrambles to a standing position. "I've been waiting for you."

"I gathered," Beckett says. Jim peeks out from behind his daughter.

"May I?" he asks, motioning towards the door. "Game to catch."

"Of course, sir," Will fumbles, stepping away and letting the elder Beckett unlock the door and enter his apartment.

They mill awkwardly in the hallway. "You want to talk?" Kate offers.

He nods and silently follows her to the guest room, where she's been staying. As soon as she closes the door, Will says, "I've been an idiot. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have sprung it all on you like that."

"You could've called," she replies.

"I wanted to give you your space," he says, "But I was worried about how we left things."

"So you decided to come here in person?"

He shoves his hands into his pockets, hanging his head. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore, Kate. I feel like I'm doing this all wrong."

Beckett assesses at him, quietly absorbing the frazzled glint in his eye and his hunched over posture. It reminds her of a guilty perp.

"Why are you really here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did you and Ellie have a fight?

"Ellie? What does she have to do with this?"

"I'm a detective, Will. I'm very good at reading people."

"What are you implying?"

She bites the inside of her cheek. "You're really going to tell me it's all in my head?"

"I don't know what you mean—"

"You look at her the way you used to look at me," Beckett interrupts sharply.

Will glances away, caught. Resignation settles in his shoulders, the fight draining out of him.

"So that's it then?" he asks.

"What else is there?"

"You have to believe I didn't mean for it to happen," he says.

"Jesus," she scoffs, tilting her head back. "Does she want to move to San Francisco?"

Will looks at her pleadingly.

"Kate, c'mon. It can't end like this."

"Why don't you take this with you?" Beckett asks, slipping off her engagement ring. "Maybe you won't get the size wrong with her."

"No, I'll do anything. Turn down the promotion, I'll tell her it's over. Anything. I—I want to be with you."

"That doesn't matter anymore," she says, her voice hard and flat.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to be with you."

"Gina, what is it? What's wrong?" Castle asks, following her out of the Waldorf-Astoria, their rehearsal dinner over. She kept giving him frosty glances throughout, her eyes like daggers. "Was it because I was late?"

She whips to face him.

"That's part of it."

"What do you mean, that's part of it?"

"Nothing," she says, crossing her arms self-consciously. "It's just this feeling I have, like...like you've been somewhere else for the past few days."

"With the case? I know I shouldn't have gotten involved, but someone was killed because of my books. I had to do something," he says.

"That's not what I mean," she says.

"Then you have to help me out here," he says, slightly exasperated.

"Stop it, Richard. You know exactly what I'm talking about," she says, tears building in her eyes. "I've dreamed about this wedding my entire life, and—and...I've imagined the dress and the flowers...and even the music the band was gonna play. And everything is exactly the way I want it, except for my fiancé, who's just decided to float off to Never-Never Land."

"Look, maybe I've been a little bit out of it the past week, but it's just normal, you know, guy stuff. It's a little cold feet. Doesn't mean I don't love you," he says.

"Well, call me crazy, but I'd like my fiancé's feet to be warm, especially when we're hours from going down the aisle."

"I'm sorry. Really, I am," he says, reaching for her and she reluctantly steps towards him.

"Whatever it is that you're holding on to...please just let it go," she implores, grabbing the collar of his shirt. "Please."

"I think it already let go of me, okay?" he replies, lifting a hand to sweep a calming thumb across her cheek.

"I have something for you," she says finally. She breaks away and leans into their town car idling by the curb. The driver hands her a parcel and she passes the item wrapped in silver paper over to Castle.

"Wait. What's this?"

"What do you think? It's the traditional groom's gift."

"I thought we said no pre-wedding gifts," he says, hesitating.

She shrugs noncommittally. "I wasn't planning on it, but I saw this at the office and thought of you. It's a first edition."

He tears the paper back and his heart stops when he reads the title. Love in the Time of Cholera.

"It's the same book you mention in your manuscript. Talk about fate, right? Maybe you can write the ending now," she says.

"Yeah," he says dumbly, trying to process what he's feeling.

"What's wrong? Don't you like it?"

He looks up at her and quickly rearranges his face. "It's perfect. Thank you."

She smiles and brushes a kiss on the underside of his jaw. "I have to run and look at some galleys for one of our new authors. But I'm all yours tomorrow," she says and gets into the car.

He barely registers her absence, his attention fused to the book—the book he spent hours, days, and years searching for—now inexplicably in his hands. But was it the right one? His hand trembles as he lifts the cover, flipping through the first few pages until he reaches the dedication, his heart pumping loudly in his ears. And then it stops altogether as his eyes trip over the name and number written in purple print. His fingers brush over the careful block letters almost reverently. She actually did it.

Kate Beckett

212-555-4339

He exhales a shaky breath and takes his cell from his pocket. He carefully types her number and presses the call button, forgetting to inhale as the dial tone rings.

A harsh beep blares through, and a smooth robotic voice says, "The number you have called is no longer in service." His heart sinks. Another dead end. He reads her name again, not quite believing it's actually there.

Kate Beckett.

And then it clicks—he has her full name. Hope bursts through him again as he fumbles with the keypad on his phone. Of course.

This time the detective picks up.

"Ryan, I found her."