A reconciliation inspired by Adele's "River Lea."
I should probably tell you now before it's way too late
That I never meant to hurt you or lie straight to your face
Consider this my apology, I know it's years in advance
But I'd rather say it now in case I never get the chance
"Hey, DeLuca!" Callie called, hurrying towards the young intern.
DeLuca turned towards her. "Oh, hi, Dr. Torres. Is there anything I can help you with?"
"No." Callie shook her head. "Well…" She heaved a deep sigh. "Yes. You can pretend I'm not your boss for two minutes."
DeLuca turned to face her head-on. "What's going on?" he worried.
Callie made a face, a little embarrassed to even pose the question. "I know you live with Dr. Robbins, and I was just wondering…if she brings home women. Often."
DeLuca's eyes widened in surprise, but he forced himself to quickly recover. "Uh…I don't think so, no."
"Like, how often?" Callie rambled on. "Once a month? Once a week? Once…a night?" she worried.
DeLuca shook his head. His boss wasn't getting it. Arizona didn't bring women over ever. "No," he clarified. "As far as I know, the only women she's ever brought home have been Dr. Kepner and this blind woman named Nicole."
Callie knit her eyebrows together. "What?" That had been far from the answer she had expected. It pleased her that Arizona hadn't been with anyone — or at least taken them to her home — in nearly a year, but it also baffled her. It left her wondering: Why the hell not?
And — noticing Callie's bewilderment — DeLuca leaned in conspiratorially. "Are we still pretending you're not my boss?"
"Yes," Callie assured him immediately. She was desperate to learn anything her ex-wife's roommate was willing to tell her about Arizona. She wanted to know it all.
He whispered, "Between you and me, I don't think she was looking for a roommate because she couldn't afford a house on her own."
"How do you know?" Callie pressed.
DeLuca licked his lips. "Well, according to my research, I'm pretty sure that she's the best paid surgeon at this hospital, after you. It was Neuro, but Chief Bailey gave Robbins a raise, with all the job offers coming in…"
"Job offers?" Callie balked. How had Arizona never mentioned that to her?
"Oh, yeah," he backpedaled. "From Mass. Gen., Mayo Clinic, Johns Hopkins, UCLA, Cleveland Clinic, the Brigham…" He trailed off. She had gotten offers from all the best hospitals in the country.
"What?" Callie balked. "Is she taking any of them?"
"No, no, no," DeLuca quickly assured the white-faced woman. "She just throws them all away, to be honest."
"Oh," Callie exhaled. Arizona wasn't going anywhere. That was good.
"Anyway," he continued. "She does a lot of pro-bono work, but I don't think she needed a roommate because she couldn't afford rent by herself."
"You don't."
DeLuca shook his head. "You still not my boss?" he checked.
Callie just nodded, and the intern released a sympathetic sigh. "I think she just gets lonely when you have Sofia. You know? I think she just misses her family."
Welp, that threw Callie for a loop. She floundered like a fish out of water.
"Oh," she finally articulated. "Okay. Thanks." She was silent for a long moment, regaining her bearings. Then, she cleared her throat. "Thank you for your help, Dr. DeLuca." She gave one short nod, indicating the conversation was over.
DeLuca nodded back in understanding. "Anytime, Dr. Torres."
Even as Callie heard the words, however, she wasn't totally listening. Instead, she wondered why Arizona hadn't seemed to move on. Her ex-wife deserved to lighten up and enjoy being young.
What was Arizona doing? Why wasn't she doing more?
Callie wasn't sure. But she couldn't help but feel somewhat comforted by the fact that Arizona hadn't moved on. She was grateful, in fact.
She had thought that her ex-wife had wanted a clear break. To end their marriage. To move on. To heal on her own. To find someone with a spirit more like to her own.
Wasn't that what she had wanted? She had been gung-ho for the thirty day break. She had wanted it to go longer. And it had been easy for her not to talk to Callie. She had been able to resist Callie easily for twenty-nine days, while it had been so hard for Callie to resist Arizona.
So Callie had left. Because they had been stuck in a cycle of hurting and resenting each other, and Arizona hadn't seemed to be able to forgive her for old wounds.
And maybe Callie hadn't been ready to forgive Arizona, either. But she had since. With time, she had forgiven Arizona completely for cheating.
And, then, she wondered if she had made the right decision to leave. Had she done the right thing? Had she read the signs correctly: that Arizona really had wanted to leave herself and had just been too scared? That Arizona had, in reality, been grateful Callie had left? And that was why the blonde hadn't run after her or begged her to stay?
Or had Callie been wrong?
She didn't know. She only knew that her relationship with Penny had ultimately taught her two things:
1. There was such a thing as second chances.
2. If Arizona still loved her and if Callie had read the signs wrong, maybe they had another shot. Maybe they could still end up together.
Because Callie still loved Arizona. That had never, ever been in question. And neither had Arizona's love for her. What had been in question, however, was whether that love had been enough. Had love alone been enough for Arizona? Callie hadn't thought so. So she had left. She had left because Arizona hadn't been happy.
And Arizona hadn't followed after her. She had only watched Callie go. She had wanted her to go.
That was what Callie had thought. In retrospect, she wasn't so sure.
And it was that feeling of uncertainty that inspired Callie to invite Arizona over for pizza and beers while Sofia slept over at Zola's. Callie hated sacrificing one of her nights with her daughter, but she felt like she had to. She needed to talk to Arizona, and she worried that, somehow, she would use Sof's presence as an excuse not to, given the opportunity. So she decided it had to be only her and Arizona. Alone.
"The pizza will be here in an hour," Callie offered, moving towards the couch to sit beside the stiff-looking blonde. Part of her wondered why everything was still so awkward between them, almost three years after the divorce. It had never been that way with George — not for long, anyway.
And another part of her knew why everything was different. She still loved Arizona, and — maybe — Arizona still loved her, too. It was also different because, in fact, she still wanted a life with Arizona, given the opportunity. And she knew that there was a tiny, tiny possibility that Arizona felt the same.
And that was a big difference.
Arizona sneaked a look at Callie as she took a small sip of beer. In truth, she had no idea what she was doing there. All she knew was that Callie had invited her over, and she couldn't have said 'no.' She hadn't wanted to. How could she have? She was eager to take up any opportunity that involved spending time with the woman she loved. Callie was the woman she would always love.
Still, she was nervous. Why had Callie invited her over? And why was she making an effort to be friends or something after so long? The questions were eating away at Arizona. Finally, she cleared her throat. "Callie?" she prompted.
"Hmm?" Callie's head automatically snapped up, her eyes filled with worry. She really, really hoped Arizona wasn't just going to leave. Callie had a lot to say. And a lot to ask. She wanted answers. Was it possible that Arizona still loved her? That she loved her enough to still want her? That the two of them weren't really over? Or that they didn't have to be?
She really hoped Arizona wasn't going to leave. She couldn't marinate in any of her own internal questions any longer. It was too hard. They kept her up at night.
"Not that this isn't sweet," Arizona began. "But what are we doing?" Really, all she wanted to know were Callie's intentions. Did she want to be friendly? To move forward? Or was she hoping to talk about the past?
Callie sighed, deciding whether to tell Arizona the truth or to wait until after the pizza arrived. She didn't want her ex to run for the door. Still, she owed her an explanation. Right?
So she offered the explanation. "I wanted to talk," she confessed. "About us."
Arizona's eyes widened. Now? It was years after the divorce, and they had never talked about it. Why now?
"I just…" Callie paused. "I feel like there are some things we never said. Things we felt but weren't honest about. And, now that so much time has passed…I feel like we at least owe each other some answers. I just want the whole truth. All our thoughts out there."
Slowly, Arizona nodded in understanding. The idea of talking about their past — of what they did right and where they went wrong — made her heart take off in her chest. And not in a good way. Even so, she understood Callie's point. And she had a lot of questions, too. "You know, the details of how everything ended are a little hazy to me," she admitted.
Callie raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Really?" She herself remembered every second of those final thirty days. For better or for worse, she remembered everything.
Arizona shrugged self-consciously. In truth, she still didn't understand why Callie had walked away — not exactly. She didn't understand what had ultimately led to her decision. Had it been the cheating? The sex the night before? Arizona's interest in acquiring a second specialty before having another baby?
Callie looked away from Arizona's intense eyes. She looked down at the bottle of beer nested between her thighs, instead. "You wanted a month-long separation," she reminded her, recounting the story. "A month of totally ignoring each other. So we did that. We tried. And I felt like I couldn't stay away from you, but you could from me."
"I was trying, Callie," Arizona contended. It wasn't as if it had been easy not to talk to Callie, to touch Callie, to love Callie. It had almost killed her. Especially when Callie had kissed her that first time. She had wanted more; she had wanted to reassure her wife of how much she wanted her and loved her more than anything, but she had been trying. She had been trying to follow the rules. And, unfortunately, she knew that Callie likely had believed she had regretted the intimate moment. And Callie couldn't have been more wrong.
"Right," Callie breathed, though she still didn't completely believe her. From what she had seen, Arizona had wanted to end things. Callie had said that she had been the one who had laughed more and enjoyed herself more during their time apart, but really, she'd seen that change in Arizona. Arizona had seemed happier without her. And so, selflessly, Callie had left for her. She had thought it had been what Arizona had wanted.
"And then we broke the rules on Day 29," Arizona continued for Callie. "To spend one final night together." That's what it had been for Callie, right? One last night of sex before walking the plank and plunging into the cold, sexless sea of Divorce?
"What?" Callie's eyes snapped up to saddened blues. "No!" Was that what Arizona thought? No. Callie hadn't made a plan to walk away the following evening. She had only realized that it was the right decision when she had walked into that therapist's office for the last time. Really, it had only been when Callie had considered all Arizona's behavior that she had realized her wife had wanted out. And that's why she had left: for Arizona. "Arizona, no," she exhaled hoarsely. "Loving you and getting to love you like that after a month of barely seeing you made me feel...whole again. I didn't want it to be the last night. I wanted to hold you forever."
"But then?" Arizona questioned. Obviously, something major must have changed for Callie to have made the choice to leave. Otherwise, nothing her ex-wife was saying made sense.
"Then I left," Callie replied simply, as if merely stating the fact. As if it hadn't completely destroyed her. "I left, and you didn't come after me."
Callie watched as Arizona's eyebrows furrowed, her nose twitching and her bottom lip becoming entrapped between a set of pearl teeth. She was clearly making sense of unexpected words, her brain working a mile a minute. Finally, she verbalized the only thought she had: "I didn't know you wanted me to."
If she had known, she would have run after Callie. She would have stopped her and demanded more. She would have demanded that they keep trying. But Callie had been done. She had left. And Arizona thought it would have been selfish to stop her from finding freedom. Arizona only had wanted her to be happy.
Callie offered a weak chuckle in return, swallowing back her pain. It didn't matter. Not anymore. She had left to give Arizona the freedom and happiness she had desired. All she had wanted was for the woman she loved to be happy.
"Callie," Arizona pleaded. She turned towards the taller woman and instinctively placing a gentle palm on her shoulder. She felt her entire body heat up at the sensation of Callie's skin almost touching hers. Only a thin t-shirt separating them.
Callie shivered at the sensation.
"Did you want me to come after you?" Had she known, she would have sprinted after her.
Callie gulped, hesitantly turning to meet curious cerulean eyes. Circumventing the question with the truth, she replied, "I wanted you to be happy." She only wished that Arizona could have been happy with her.
With a shuddering breath, she exhaled a long breath. God. Arizona was so close. Callie could practically see the tiny air particles that separated them. She resented them. She wanted to be closer. To touch more of her. To touch all of her, again.
"And that's why I left."
Arizona pulled back, shocked by the words. Callie left so that she could be happy? But…Arizona had thought Callie had left because she had been miserable? She had been unwilling to listen to Arizona's perspective. She had hardly let her speak without interrupting. And she had resented her for wanting to advance her career. "No…" she argued with uncertainty.
Callie turned towards her, suddenly dynamic and eager for her ex-wife to understand. "Arizona, I said that I had laughed more and enjoyed myself more, but it was you. You seemed to be happy during the break, while I just felt…lost. Even when we kissed, you didn't look at me with wonder like you used to. It was like I made you sad. So I figured it was the right thing to do. I figured you wanted out, but you didn't feel like you could just go." That was the truth. The whole truth. Or most of it, anyway.
"What?" Arizona gaped. "Why?" She thought she had — for the most part — understood what had happened between them. In that moment, however, she realized that their marriage's downfall had contained more misunderstandings than she ever had even thought possible.
"I don't know!" Callie defended. It had made sense at the time, but since talking to DeLuca, she had felt more and more lost. "After you cheated, you said you only needed me and Sofia, and I figured you just wanted to prove that to me. Whether you wanted me or not. Whether it was true or not."
"It was true." It had been true then, and now, it was truer than ever. The loss of Callie — coupled with the knowledge of just how much Callie had sacrificed for her — had proven once and for all just how much Arizona wanted her. Arizona wanted her and no one else. Callie had been her true love, and since then, Arizona had been unwilling to settle for less.
"I know," Callie admitted. "I talked to DeLuca." Arizona hadn't been with anyone - at least not lately. And that meant something.
Arizona made an attempt to swallow, even though her mouth was suddenly dry. For the sake of being honest, she admitted what she assumed Callie already knew: "I haven't been with anyone since the divorce."
Externally, Callie offered a calm nod. She had assumed so. Internally, however, she wasn't calm in the slightest. The truth felt impossible, and remarkably so. Arizona was someone who was experienced, to say the least. She was someone who had seduced half the women in the hospital before meeting Callie. And she was someone who had slept with two other women while married. And, yet, she was also someone who hadn't had sex with even one woman since Callie.
The truth put action behind the words Callie had only ever half believed. I don't need much. But I need Sofia, and I need you.
Arizona's lips curled into a cynical smirk. "I guess I'm not as good at moving on as you are," she lamented. She couldn't move on. She had tried and failed again and again while Callie and Penny had made eyes at each other in the cafeteria.
Callie chuckled. That was the furthest thing from the truth. She hadn't moved on. Courageously, she had tried. She had gone on countless dates. She had put herself out there. For a while, she had even found a woman to love in Penny. Ultimately, it hadn't been enough, though. Ultimately, the only person she wanted was the woman she had once called her wife. Arizona.
Noticing Arizona's sorrowful expression, Callie realized that her ex-wife perhaps figured she had been chuckling at her. So, quickly, she challenged: "Why do you think I invited you over?"
Arizona paused. She didn't know, anymore. After all, it appeared that nothing had been as it had seemed.
Callie finally assured her, "So I could tell you the truth. That my love for you has only grown since we've been apart. It's in my veins. It's in my blood. And I tried to move on. I thought I had. And, then, I realized that being with her only made me forget how much I missed you." Callie was grateful for the resident, who had taught her a lot about herself. But she didn't love her. Not the way she had always loved Arizona. Not even close.
"That's how I felt about Leah," Arizona empathized. Leah had helped Arizona forget how much she had missed her family during their time apart. She had been nothing more. "I didn't even like her the way you liked Blake. She was just there." It sounded cold, but it was true. She only had wanted Callie.
"Yeah." Callie sighed.
Arizona offered a sad smile. Then, she brought up something she truly was curious about. "You hadn't forgiven me for cheating during therapy." It was a statement, rather than a question. Arizona knew it was the truth. Callie had waved her resentment throughout the small office room, again and again. "How about now?"
"I forgive you," Callie promised. "I realized that, by holding onto that pain, I was hurting myself more than punishing you, anyway." And, since the divorce, she had acknowledged how bad of a place Arizona had been in to make that decision.
Once upon a time, soon after they'd started dating, Arizona had learned that Izzie had been the most important person in George's life. Even during his marriage to Callie. She still remembered Arizona turning towards her with a thoughtful expression post-coitus. Gently running nimble fingers through sweaty black hair, Arizona had called George an idiot — even in death — and had vowed never to cheat on her.
And Callie had believed her, even before knowing how much they would end up meaning to one another. Callie had wholeheartedly believed her.
And, now, Callie acknowledged that Arizona would have kept her vow — and those she made at their wedding — if it hadn't been for the plane crash. Now, she also trusted Arizona enough to believe it would never, ever happen again.
Bravely, she reached for a milky white hand. She wanted the comfort, and she wanted Arizona to have the comfort. She wanted Arizona to know that she meant it.
Entwining their palms and feeling her heart speed up at the simple touch, Callie repeated, "I forgive you."
Arizona squeezed her hand, gratefully swallowing the words she had ached to hear for so long. They were the words she needed to hear to finally forgive herself.
Then, with a voice that was far less sure than usual, Callie intoned, "Did you forgive me? For making the call?"
Arizona's eyes widened. "For saving my life?" she gaped. "Calliope, of course. I'm so grateful for you."
"No, I mean…" Callie rolled her eyes as she attempted to articulate her thoughts. "You were angry afterwards. For a long time. After you cheated, even after the divorce…" she trailed off.
"Over the cut," Arizona clarified. She had only been angry that Callie had made the call at the very beginning. And, then, she had been angry about everything: Alex, Lexie, Mark, Nick, and even Tim. She had been angry with the whole world, and that had included Callie.
With their hands still intertwined, Callie waited with curiosity. She wanted more. She wanted to know everything.
Arizona let out a frustrated huff. It was hard to talk about the thoughts she'd had for so long; in retrospect, they made no sense.
Callie brought their hands down to her own thigh, urging Arizona both to sit closer and to trust her. She wanted them closer, both physically and emotionally. She wanted everything.
Finally, Arizona prompted, "Do you remember that sinkhole accident?"
Callie's eyebrows furrowed as she attempted to recall the past. "The one downtown?" she questioned. "With the couple who got stuck?"
"Yes," Arizona affirmed, hoping Callie would remember its significance. When no light-bulb of understanding seemed to turn on in her ex-wife's head, however, Arizona continued. "You came home that night and told me about how the man couldn't cut off his wife's leg because he'd loved her too much. Even if it meant saving her life, he couldn't make the cut." Again, she waited for Callie's moment of understanding.
And there it was.
"And then you asked if I would ever be able to do it. For you," Callie remembered.
Arizona nodded.
"And I said no," Callie continued. "Because I loved you too much." She remembered. She also remembered Arizona then giving her a loving kiss, joking, Remind me to never get into a plane crash on a desert island with you.
Oh, the irony.
"Right," Arizona breathed.
"So you didn't think I loved you enough." Perhaps it was a bit of an overstatement, but Callie figured she was on the right track.
Arizona shrugged helplessly. "A part of me knew you did," she clarified. "But then there was the PTSD. There was the fact that I suddenly hated who I was and how I looked. And then there was the miscarriage, and I felt like my body was turning on me again."
Unable to help herself, Callie moved even closer, feeling their thighs and shoulders kissing. She couldn't help it. Even years after the divorce, she still felt a need to protect Arizona. She had been through so much.
"I was sick, Callie," Arizona reminded her before she continued. "It made me see things wrong. With the miscarriage, I felt like I was letting you down again. First, I was awful to you, then I wasn't ready for sex, then I couldn't have a bab…"
"You've never let me down," Callie swore. "Ever."
"I know that now," Arizona assured her, squeezing a caramel hand. And it was the truth. She had healed. She'd had almost two years of time on her own to heal. "But I just wanted you to know that I wasn't really me when I cheated. It's not something I would have ever been able to do to you under most circumstances. And it's not something that will ever happen again."
"I should have helped you more," Callie regretted. "I should have been more-"
"Stop," Arizona commanded. She took her hand out of Callie's hold and tenderly brought it up to sweep back a lock of black hair. "We both did the best we could. You protected me from the truth, and I tried to hurry and heal for you. We loved each other. As best as we could."
Before Arizona could lower her hand, Callie caught it and brought it up to her lips. She inhaled sweet-smelling ivory skin and placed a soft kiss against it. She murmured the truth. "I did love you. And I still love you."
Arizona felt her entire body shudder, both at the sound of the words and at the feeling of Callie's hot breath on her skin. The past hour certainly had not been she had expected. It had been so much better.
"I love you, too," Arizona promised. She loved Callie more than ever before. And not only more but better. They had always loved each other selflessly — their divorce only proved that — but never so wholly.
She felt as if she and Callie knew every part of each other — both vices and virtues — and still continued to love each other. To love each other more.
As they implored each other's faces for a long moment, they heard a knock on the door.
"Oh! Pizza!" Callie jumped up, heading towards the door while Arizona followed after.
She paid the deliveryman and turned back to face Arizona. "Are you hungry?"
Arizona only stared at her with wonder in her eyes. Instead of answering the question, she repeated, "I love you." The words sounded like music, and she wanted to say them again and again, forever. "And I'm happier with you."
Callie set the box on the counter. "I know," she grinned giddily. "And maybe I shouldn't have ever left," she admitted. "But I'm glad I did." It was only during their separation that they had forgiven each other. It was only then that they had healed and learned what they ultimately wanted.
Each other.
Arizona nodded. It had been hell being part from Callie, but it had also brought them to the present moment. And when Callie vowed I love you, too, Arizona suddenly didn't care about any pain from the past.
She could only think of the present and future, which was looking pretty euphoric.
"I just need to know one thing." Arizona pursed her lips, watching Callie pick up a slice of pizza.
Callie waited.
"I just need to know." Arizona paused. "Am I your…" Girlfriend didn't seem like the right word, but neither did wife. Nothing fit. It was as if her love with Callie now transcended all the labels they'd had before.
Tossing the slice back into the box, Callie didn't hesitate before crossing to the other side of the kitchen island and placing her hands on slim hips. She knew exactly what Arizona was asking. And she knew her answer.
"You're the love of my life."
"Yeah?" Arizona grinned, running her hands over strong shoulders.
Callie offered a little laugh. How could Arizona think she was anything less? Spiritually, they may not have been wives any longer, but Callie knew it was only a matter of time until they renewed their vows. Until then, describing Arizona as the love of her life seemed fitting. So, almost teasingly, she insisted, "Yeah."
"Okay." Arizona countered, her smile impossibly wide and dimples impossibly deep. That label was fine by her. Because Callie was certainly the love of her life. Then and forever. "Good," she chirped, still grinning.
Then, she felt Callie slowly leaning in, closing the distance between them. Arizona licked her lips, tilting her head back to meet Callie halfway. She felt herself shiver in anticipation. She felt her heart swell. They were back. Finally.
"I'm going to kiss you, now," Callie whispered, her warm breath falling over pink lips.
Again: "Good."