A lot of this is borrowed from Because of Winn Dixie. Enjoy!
As Callie tucked her into bed one night, eleven-year-old Sofia pouted, "I miss Mom."
Pulling up the sheets, Callie's hands stilled, and she sighed. She hated this part.
So far, every year she'd had Sofia with her in New York, the winters had been hard. By winter, school events and the holiday season ramped up, and Sof wasn't able to visit Arizona in Seattle as often, or vice versa.
By winter, the distance took a toll on Sofia, and her support system in New York—which, by that point, was only Callie—wasn't enough.
Sofia was approaching her pre-teens, and Callie knew their daughter needed them. She needed both of her mothers close.
And, unfortunately, it was a need that couldn't be helped.
She knew that there was no way she could cling to her sanity if they permanently moved back to Washington, and she knew that Arizona never would want to abandon her home.
In fact, neither had Callie. But she'd had to leave, anyway, and she'd had to stay away.
"I know, sweetie," Callie sympathized, handing her daughter "Boo," the stuffed bunny the two of them had gifted her on her second birthday, once upon a time. "You'll see her soon, okay?"
Sof pouted out her lower lip. "I'm forgetting her, Mama. Whenever I don't see one of you for a long time, I start to forget stuff, and it keeps me awake."
Exhaling another tired breath, Callie relented, sitting on the edge of the bed.
It was late. It was a school night, so she was eager to help her little girl sleep in any way she could. "Is there anything I can do?"
Offering a sudden smile, Sof eagerly nodded her head. "Yeah. Help me remember," she suggested. "Tell me five things about her."
Callie knit her eyebrows together, then she understood. "Hmm…" she began, buying herself time to recall a few factoids for her daughter.
In fact, she didn't think of her ex-wife often. She tried hard not to.
Especially since ending her relationship with Penny—a decision she had made rather impulsively, if not callously—she fiercely avoided thinking of Arizona.
But Sofia really, really needed sleep. So, there Callie was, concentrating on nothing but on thinking of her ex-wife.
Finally, a nostalgic smile emerged on her full lips. "She has the best dance music ever."
"Oh, yeah!" Sof exclaimed, giggling, "With One Direction!"
"Yeah!" Callie laughed. "She put them on her phone just for you!"
Then, she paused, thinking. There was so much that she couldn't remember.
And there was so much more that she couldn't forget.
"Her hair smells really good. Like vanilla," she remembered.
Sofia closed her eyes, attempting to remember the scent herself.
"She loves making friends," Callie continued. "You know, once, she just walked right up to our old friend Teddy and informed her that they were going to be friends. Just like that."
Sof's eyes widened in disbelief.
"I'm serious!" Callie affirmed, continuing, "And I've seen you do the same thing on the playground, so you definitely got your friendliness from her."
"Really?"
"Really," Callie swore, watching Sof beam proudly. "And…" She paused, thinking of more things. So much came to mind, but her brain settled on one image and wouldn't let it go.
"She has a super-magic smile," she recalled, her own cheeks rising at the memory of that wonderful, beautiful smile. "And when she smiles at you, everything gets better."
Sofia offered a little nod of agreement, but Callie didn't notice. She was lost in her own world, lost in flashbacks, recalling her lost life and love.
"What's the fifth thing?" Sofia finally interrupted her thoughts with the hopeful little question.
Callie forced herself out of her memories, but instead of offering an answer, she leaned down and kissed Sofia's forehead. "I think four is enough for tonight," she whispered. At that moment, she couldn't handle any more remembering. Not without bursting into tears.
Sofia, on the other hand, felt like she might cry. "Please?" Not hearing that fifth thing felt like getting coal on Christmas. Like expectation followed by disappointment.
Callie gave her a waning smile. "Not tonight." She stood up. "Goodnight, sweetie. I love you."
Sofia sniffled, politely swallowing back her desire to tantrum, replying, "'Night. I love you, too."
A few months later, Sof was at last reunited with her other mother for Spring Break. They spent their first few days together catching up while at the park, the farmer's market, the waterfront, and while shopping for a new pair of shoes for each of them. (They had considered going to the zoo, too, but decided that it was too sad to see wild animals imprisoned in little enclosed spaces, so they'd skipped it.)
Their time together thus far had been incredible and, like Callie, Arizona always tucked her in at night.
One night, as Arizona stood up to leave, Sofia stopped her. "Mom?"
"Hmm?" Arizona turned to face her.
"Do you ever miss Mama?"
Arizona felt her throat go dry. That wasn't a question she'd been expecting her daughter to ask. At age five? Sure. At age seven? Maybe. But at age eleven? No way.
By that time, more years had passed of Callie and Arizona being apart than years they'd ever spent together.
In the eight long years they'd been apart, their bodies had replaced mostly themselves, on the cellular level: their epithelial cells, their nervous, smooth, skeletal, and cardiac tissue, and their cartilage were all entirely new.
In fact, if Callie ever touched her again—and she wouldn't, Arizona was quick to remind herself—if she ever rediscovered the ragged edges of her hipbones, the valley of her spine, the heat of her belly and sinews and twist of flesh, it would be a feeling her porcelain skin wouldn't recognize—her cells completely untouched by those spindly fingers and strong caramel hands.
If Callie ever touched her again—and she won't, Arizona's reminded herself—it'd feel like the first time all over again, but more.
And that was saying something. Up until Callie had touched her that first time, she hadn't even known she'd had skin.
And, if she ever touched Callie again—and you won't, Arizona reminded herself—it'd feel like the first time, too.
It was strange, though. Their time as a couple, and then as wives, had seemed like their zenith.
The earthly paradise of knowing that, out of everyone in the world, they'd found each other had once been their solace. Years later, however, it was a reality that was long-forgotten, and Arizona could hardly trust her memory anymore. Did it even happen—her and Callie? Had it really been as special as she remembered?
"I miss both of you, Sof," Arizona admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed. "We're family, so I miss having you here, all the time, with me."
"Mama, too?" Sof pressed.
"Mama, too," Arizona nodded.
When she'd let Callie go, she had hoped it would make things easier. She had hoped that not having to see her, and to be reminded of her every day, would help her move on.
And perhaps it had. She'd dated since. She'd even had a few lengthy relationships—ones that could have been serious, if she'd allowed. And then, eventually, she had stopped looking. She had accepted being alone—and no longer lonely—and alone she remained.
"What are five things you miss about her?"
"Sofia…" Arizona warned.
"What?" Sof feigned innocence.
"Your mom and I divorced a long, long time ago. It's inappropriate to suggest that I miss her-"
"No, not like that!" Sofia waved the idea off, sitting up in bed. "I know you're divorced. I just mean…as a person."
Arizona exhaled a long breath, probing Sofia's face for a long moment. Finally, she surrendered, "I'll tell you one thing I miss about her."
Sofia smiled in victory.
"As a person," Arizona added stubbornly. "As family. Nothing more."
Sofia nodded, lying back down. She could accept that.
"Her laugh," Arizona finally admitted. "Your mama has the best laugh." She slowly shook her head, overcome with a sense of wonder.
Sofia's smile widened. "She says you have the best smile."
"She-. What?" Arizona's head immediately snapped up.
"I asked her," Sofia offered vaguely. "And she said it's magic."
Arizona forced a casual chuckle from her throat, but it sounded strained, even to her own ears. Suddenly, she was overcome with memories. Of the past. Of love lost.
And they hurt.
"Well, you should get some sleep, sweetie," she decided, leaning down to kiss Sof's hair. "We need to get up early so that we can spend all day together tomorrow and I won't have to miss you too much when you go back to New York for the rest of the year."
Sofia closed her eyes, accepting the finality of her mom's words. Clearly, she was done talking about it—for the night, anyway.
"I love you, Mom," she proclaimed, turning onto her side and hugging Boo tight.
"I love you, too, pumpkin."
A few months later, Sofia woke up to the sound of a cupboards opening and shutting. She hopped out of bed, grabbed Boo, and tiptoed towards the kitchen to find the cause of the noise.
Finding her mama there, she slowly walked toward her. "Mama?" she began, her tone tentative.
Callie slammed the cupboard shut in her surprise. "Sofia," she growled, half-asleep, "It's one in the morning. What are you doing up?"
"Mama, are you okay?" she worried, staying a safe distance away, as if scared to walk into her mom's private suffering.
Callie heaved a heavy breath, impatiently insisting, "Yes, Sof, I'm fine. Go back to bed."
But Sofia didn't move. Feet planted to the floor, she tried again. "What's wrong?"
Finally, Callie turned to look at her, exhaling, "Did your teachers tell you what happened today in South Carolina?"
"The shooting?" Sof wondered, eyes wide and unblinking, fixed to her mama's face.
Callie nodded. "Yeah. A crazy guy shot up a Marine Corps base, and it made me think o-"
"Of Mommy?" Sofia guessed.
"Yeah," she sighed in defeat. That hadn't been what she had planned to say, but it certainly was the truth. "It made me think of Mommy."
Sofia bit her lip, risking, in a small voice, "Do you think of her a lot?"
Callie nodded, admitting, "I do."
"Do you ever miss her?"
Callie inhaled a sharp breath, admitting, "I do." Of course she did.
"But…not enough?" Sofia wondered, thinking, if they miss each other, why won't they just see each other? Why won't they just get back together so that they can stop missing each other?
"Sof, it's never about not missing her 'enough,'" Callie explained, pain permeating her voice. "It's always enough. But…" She sighed. "There are some things you're just too young to understand."
"But I want to understand," Sofia pleaded, hating the youthful desperation in her tone. "I understand a lot of things," she insisted.
"Not this," Callie whispered. "I don't even understand what happened between me and your mom." She paused, taking a moment to rub at her tired, rheum-rimmed eyes. "We were happy for a long time," she disclosed. "And then she wasn't, and neither was I."
Sofia was silent for a moment, just processing. Then, she worried, "Was it my fault? You were happy before me, so…" She paused. "Was I bad?" the last word was barely audible, as she was suddenly overcome with worry that her words might be true.
Callie felt her throat constrict at hearing her daughter's fears, and she immediately grabbed her by the shoulders and squatted down to be at eye-level with her. "No!" she fought, almost angry. "No, it was not your fault!" She worked at softening her tone. It didn't really work. "Sof, don't you ever say it was your fault. I decided to end our marriage. I left, and Mommy didn't stop me. I left. So it wasn't your fault. Got it?"
Owl-eyed, Sofia nodded. "Got it," she relented, overwhelmed by her mama's impassioned outburst.
"Good," Callie breathed, relieved to have settled the issue.
She changed the subject. "It's late. Let's just go back to bed."
Again, Sof nodded, whispering, "Okay." She trudged back towards her room, crawled back in bed, and—eventually—fell back asleep.
On the other hand, Callie didn't fall asleep for another few hours. She felt gutted: first, because of the sanguinary shooting—one that was so commonplace in their gun-hungry country—and second, because of what Sofia had said. Because of that blame she'd placed on herself—that pain she'd been carrying around.
As a mother, it destroyed her. Not only because Sof had felt it, but because she was so wrong to have felt it.
Sofia was one of the reasons why she and Arizona had worked things out for as long as they had.
And she wasn't to blame for their eventual separation. Of course she wasn't.
Ultimately, Callie decided, apart from circumstance, only she herself was to blame.
She had left. She had walked out of that office. She could have kept trying, but she hadn't.
She had given up. She had let the love of her life go. And, now, she was living without her, paying for it.
A few weeks later, Sofia was home in Seattle for a week before she'd need to go back to New York, pack up her things, and prepare to come back for a year with her Mommy.
After spending a few days with her mom, she'd taken a two-day camping trip for her old friend's birthday party and came home the following night with tears in her eyes.
"Sofia, what's wrong?" Arizona threw open the door and raced towards her daughter, holding the little girl's cheeks in her hands. "What happened?"
"Boo!" Sofia cried, the rain pouring in the onyx air behind her. "I left her somewhere! We looked but couldn't find her anywhere!"
"Oh, sweetie…" Arizona exhaled, pulling Sofia against her. "We'll find her. Get some warm clothes on and we'll go."
Sofia nodded gratefully, wiping her eyes and hurrying to her room to put on a few more layers.
Ten minutes later, she and Arizona hopped into the car, each equipped with an LED flashlight, and they prepared for the short drive to the campground.
Fifteen minutes into the drive, Arizona heard a sniffle come from the backseat.
"Sofia…" Arizona reached her hand back, comfortingly rubbing her hand over Sof's leg. "It'll be okay. We're going to look for her."
"I need her! I can't sleep without her!"
"I know. We'll look, okay? She's probably still there."
Even with the limited ground they had to cover, they searched—hand-in-hand—until 11 o'clock at night.
Finally, Arizona regretfully began, "Sof, it's late. We need to head back to the car and go home."
"But Mom!" Sofia argued. "She's out here somewhere!"
"Honey, we can only look for so long," Arizona stated pragmatically. "A little girl probably found Boo and took her home and will cherish her just like you did. I'll buy you another-"
"NO!" Sofia exclaimed, her eyes welling with angry tears. Abruptly, she dropped her mom's hand, refusing to take even another step.
Surprised, Arizona stopped moving forward, turning back to face her.
Suddenly, Sofia was furious. "You're giving up."
"Sofia…"
"You give up on everything," she continued, her voice eerily decisive. Quietly enraged.
"Wh-?" Arizona was speechless. "That's not true."
"Yes, it is!" Sofia accused, fierce and unwilling to back down. Not anymore. "All you do is give up!"
Arizona just gaped at her, feeling her own daughter rip her heart right out of her chest. "Sof-"
"You just give up and don't ever say how you feel," Sofia continued her attack. "I bet you didn't even fight for Mama when she left." She knew she was being cruel, but she didn't care. All the hurting had piled up and was leaking out of her.
Arizona exhaled a breath of agony, already defeated, but still, she meekly argued, "Sof, Mama and I weren't even together, then."
"Before that!" Sofia barked. "When you first stopped being together! I bet you didn't even fight."
Eager for her to understand, Arizona squatted down, grabbing Sof's hands and ignoring the protests from her tired leg.
"I tried to fight-"
The little girl attempted to jerk away, and Arizona loosened her grip on her hands, but she didn't let go.
"No, I tried!" Arizona insisted. "I tried! You don't think I wanted us to stay together just as much as you do? Your mama was everything to me!"
"You didn't try!" Sofia argued. She wouldn't believe it. "She wasn't 'everything' to you."
"Yes, she was!" Arizona felt her voice break in her desperation. "Sof, she was everything! Everything!" She felt tears sting her eyes, but she couldn't stop. Everything was coming out, and she couldn't stop. The emotions were building and building, and her body searched for a release. "I loved her!"
"NO!" Sofia shouted. "If you loved her, you'd be together! You'd tell her to come home!"
"Sofia, she doesn't want to move back here," Arizona stated—almost successfully maintaining a calm façade, even though the admittance of the truth broke her heart into tiny irreparable pieces. "She-"
"She says Seattle's full of 'living ghosts,'" Sofia informed her, "And that's why she can't come back. And I think the biggest ghost is you!" she accused. "Because you didn't fight!"
"I fought!" And, in that moment, Arizona was doing just that with her daughter. "I fought! I loved her, and I failed her. Okay? I failed her, Sofia. I tried, and I tried, and I-"
"You didn't try! If you had tried, you'd be together! And we could all live here!"
"I tried," Arizona choked out. "I tried and tried and tried. With everything I had." And, sure, she hadn't had much at the time, but she'd used all she'd had to try. To try to keep her true love in her embrace, even though her arms felt like shackles holding them both down rather than close together.
She'd tried. With everything, she'd tried.
Finally, she shrugged hopelessly, almost inaudibly admitting the bitter truth. "It's my fault." It was her fault. She was the one who had ultimately failed them. And Sofia. She was the cause of their daughter's pain.
Silently, Sof just looked at her, too angry to feel compassion for her hurting mom just yet. She was hurting, too.
"Sofia," Arizona surrendered, "I made her want to leave. I was sad, and I was mean, and I only worried about me for a long time. I ruined us."
She closed her eyes briefly, swallowing the lump in her throat. "It's all my fault, sweetie. It's my fault, and I'm so sorry." She bit her lower lip, not wanting her daughter to see her break down entirely. "I'm so sorry."
But Sofia knew, and the brown eyes that were previously filled with her own pain now swarmed with sympathy.
"Mommy..." she began, simultaneously feeling like a tiny little kid again and like she needed to protect her own mother, like she needed to pull her into a tight, protective hug and never, ever let go.
"I tried, Sofia," Arizona reiterated, not wanting her daughter ever again to question how hard she had fought for their family. "I would've done anything for us to stay a family. Anything. I did the best I could."
Sofia sniffed, her eyes locked with Arizona's.
"And I'll do my best to find your bunny, too. I promise. I'll come back and look some more tomorrow, and I'll mail her to you as soon as I find her."
At that, Sofia didn't hesitate before wrapping her arms around her mom's neck, hugging her as tightly as she could.
"I love you, Mommy," she declared, inhaling the sweetness of vanilla-scented shampoo—a scent that was so homey and unique to the blonde that it still haunted Sof's mama.
Arizona kissed Sofia's shoulder, holding her as if it were the last thing she'd ever do. "I love you, too."
In the end, they found Boo. She was soggy and soaking wet from the rainstorm, but they found her.
Sofia was so relieved that she fell asleep as soon as they made it back to the car.
And Arizona was relieved, too. Somehow, that bedraggled bunny had become a symbol for her and Callie's time together, and for their love for their daughter, just as Sofia had always symbolized the love they'd felt once for each other.
The fact that they found Boo after losing all hope made Arizona feel more hopeful about love and life itself, too.
After pulling into the driveway, Arizona turned around in her seat, smiling wistfully at her daughter's perfect, peaceful face. It pained her to wake her, but she just couldn't carry Sof inside on her own; so, with a sigh, she got out of the car and opened Sofia's door, gently waking her.
"Sofia? We're home."
They trudged into the house, and Sof didn't even change into her pajamas—just shed a few layers and fell onto her bed.
"Sweetie," Arizona chuckled, tugging off Sofia's boots. "You need to brush your teeth."
Sofia waved her off. "Too tired. Tomorrow."
"Come on…" Arizona insisted. "Go wash up, and then I'll tuck you in."
"Fine," Sofia relented, dragging herself into the bathroom.
When she came back, she caught sight of Arizona lightly fingering Boo, tracing her ears and embroidered black eyes. She turned towards Sof. "You think you can be brave tonight and sleep without her? We should put her in the dryer so she doesn't get moldy."
Sof vigorously shook her head. "I want her!" she insisted, meeting still-swollen eyes.
Arizona offered a somewhat patient smile, toweling the stuffed animal off as best she could, handing her to Sof, and pulled the covers up to her neck. "Okay," she whispered, running her fingers through damp brown hair. "We'll dry her tomorrow."
Sofia grabbed the hand in her hair, holding it in her own to keep her mom from leaving. "Mom?"
"Sof?" Arizona countered cheekily.
Sofia giggled softly, then turned serious. Really serious.
"I think you should tell her."
Immediately, Arizona knew who Sofia was referring to. "Sweetie…" she warned. Why couldn't their daughter see that there was no hope for them anymore?
"Just try!" Sofia pleaded. "You said you tried before, but try again!"
"Sofia, your mama walked away. Twice," she added. "Her life is in New York, and it's been eight years. It's more complicated than just saying 'I love you' and expecting that to mean something. Your mama and I…" She sighed. "It's more complicated than you can understand."
Sofia shook her head, refusing to accept that. "You still love her, and I can tell she still loves you. She thinks she never should have left, but she won't move back because of you."
"Sof…" Arizona warned. It really, really wasn't their daughter's place to get in the middle of their own calamities.
"She misses you, and you miss her!" Sofia insisted.
"Sof, we can talk about this another time, b-"
"You be brave," Sofia interrupted fiercely, unwilling to let her mom give up. "You love each other. That's not complicated! You're just scared."
Arizona dropped her shoulders in defeat, staring in awe at her little girl who was kind, smart, and stubborn as hell—just like her and Callie.
But, mostly, Sofia was just smart. Arizona realized she should have expected as much after giving her a name that meant wisdom, but she hadn't, really.
Sofia was beyond wise. She seemed to understand life's complexities—love, in particular—even better than Arizona herself.
She wasn't jaded. She wasn't fearful. She wasn't beat down by constant loss.
And she didn't want her moms to be, either.
"What if you knew she felt the same? Then would you say something?"
"I-" Arizona paused, stunned into silence by the mere idea. Finally, she covered. "That's a big 'what if,' honey. Now, come on, you need to sleep."
Sofia pouted out her lower lip, but she didn't argue. She knew she had to have a little patience with her mom—Rome wasn't built in a day, after all; and if her moms did, in fact, still love each other—and she was confident that they did—she knew that their relationship couldn't be rebuilt without some heavy lifting. Even if she was the one who had to do most of the work.
Sofia sat up in bed, pulling Arizona into a long hug, as comforting as warm chocolate chip cookies on a rainy day. And—noting her mom's hesitation to let go a few second later—she wondered, "You want to sleep in here, with me, tonight?"
Arizona smiled softly. Sofia was smart, wise, and full of compassion, too. "Yeah," she breathed. "I do."
The night Sofia arrived back in New York, she didn't go to bed when she was supposed to. Instead, with Boo in tow, she tiptoed toward the living room, where her mom was reading the New York Times on the couch.
"Mama?" she began, her tone careful.
Callie looked up in surprise. "Sofia. I thought you were sleeping."
Sofia shook her head. "I couldn't."
"What's wrong?" Callie worried. "Is it hard to sleep in a different bed?"
Again, Sofia shook her head. "No. I was just…thinking."
Attempting to read her face, Callie finally set down her magazine and patted the space beside her. "C'mere," she surrendered, allowing Sof to curl up on the couch, rather than in bed, where she should have been. "Now, tell me. What have you been thinking about?"
Sof just nervously bit her lip, providing no answer.
"Sof…?"
Finally, Sofia exhaled a calming breath through her nose. "I've been thinking you should move back to Seattle."
Callie's eyes bulged. "S-"
"I know you said you can't!" Sofia quickly interrupted. "But you have to!"
"What? Why?" Callie pressed. What was Sofia talking about?
And Sof only hesitated for a moment before, in one long-winded breath, she betrayed her mom's truths, divulging the details of their tearful conversation.
"No," Callie fought as soon as Sof had finished. She refused to believe it. "No! There's no way she said it was her fault." Their divorce wasn't Arizona's fault in the slightest. She had been the one to give up, not Arizona.
She had once thought her ex-wife had the tendency to bail. She'd dumped her when they'd first talked about having kids, and then she'd gone to Africa.
But Callie acknowledged that she had been the one to walk out on their marriage. She'd bailed. She'd left. She'd given up, without ever expressing how much she regretted making that decision.
She had just moved forward, as if she'd had no other choice. She'd moved on. She'd attempted to find another love, hoping and praying that somehow, someday, someone else might compare.
And, with that hope in mind, she'd moved to New York. And then she'd regretted that, too.
Being away from Arizona—the one person who was more special to her than any other living soul, apart from their daughter—had helped, at first. It had renewed her sanity—though, with that, she discovered how…wrong Penny was. And realizing that had only left her feeling lonelier in the end.
"Mama, can you try?" Sofia pleaded, even while knowing it was a lot to ask. She hardly remembered her old house in Seattle, it had been so long.
She knew it was a lot to ask for, but she was asking anyway, because she felt that moving back to Seattle was the right decision. For her and for her moms.
"Sof…" It was crazy, thinking about moving back just because her daughter claimed that maybe Arizona missed her.
Sofia hung her head in defeat, looking down at the bunny in her lap as it blurred, her own eyes smudging with tears. Sure that her hopes were shot, she, almost inaudibly, offered one final thought. "I just want you to be happy."
Callie didn't need a day to think. She didn't need a week, a month, or a year. Sofia—kind, smart, compassionate Sofia—just wanted her to be happy. She just wanted both her mama and her mom to be happy.
And Callie knew what made her happy: the woman who had been everything to her. The woman who she had left and had missed every day since.
She never stopped feeling that loss.
And she knew she never would, for as long as she lived—not unless she made right what was wrong.
And what was wrong was Arizona thinking it was her fault that they weren't together anymore.
Even more, what was wrong was not being together anymore.
And the idea that Arizona maybe, just maybe, felt the same way was the only thing that had felt truly right in years.
Callie knew exactly what made her happy, and that was Arizona. That was all there was to it.
She just hoped Arizona might somehow feel the same.
As planned, Callie stood beside Sofia on Arizona's doorstep, in order to drop her off with her suitcases and to say goodbye.
And Callie was, in fact, going to say goodbye—but not for long. Unbeknownst to Arizona, the sum of the brunette's possessions were in the idling taxi.
As soon as she relayed the news of her staying, she planned to head to Meredith's—a place that had become a sort of halfway-house for those in transition.
And she was certainly transitioning. She was transitioning from someone who settled, from someone who deluded herself, from someone who surrendered to the ways of the world, into someone who was eager to right her wrongs in the name of love.
She was taking the first step. She was being brave.
A few minutes later, after Arizona had drenched Sof in grateful kisses, she looked up at Callie, feeling her stomach somersault at the mere sight of her. "Thank you. For bringing her. And we'll figure out a schedule for her to visit you in Ne-"
"Yeah, about that…" Sofia interrupted, giving her mama a conspiring smile.
Callie looked down, anxiously rolling on her heels, and Arizona knit her eyebrows together.
Callie chanced meeting her eyes, offering a vulnerable little smile. "Actually…I'm not going back to New York."
Arizona's eyes widened.
"Sofia and I talked. About…a lot," she continued vaguely, feeling a one-winged sparrow flutter in her stomach at the way Arizona watched her—as if there weren't anything else to see.
Horrified, Arizona turned to their daughter, breath catching in her throat at the implication. She felt her heart bottom out. Had Sof told Callie about everything she'd said? "Sofia…"
"Don't be mad!" Sofia pleaded. "I was right!"
"Right about…?" Arizona wouldn't allow herself to believe it. The possibility of Callie loving her—after so much time—was too good to be true. She fought the seductive idea of letting down her guard and allowing herself to believe it. She wouldn't believe it.
"She was right," Callie confirmed softly, though she regretted breaching the subject at all that night. Clearly, she had caught Arizona off guard, and she hadn't intended to blindside her.
Taking her moms' unblinking stares of silent communication as her cue to leave, Sofia dashed inside, and they hardly even noticed.
Finally, Callie promised, "You never failed me."
Arizona's heart sped up in her chest.
"It wasn't your fault we got a divorce. It was mine."
And then it stalled.
"Callie…"
Callie had intended to wait to have this conversation, but it appeared to be too late to put off. They were talking about it, and they couldn't just stop. "Arizona, you're the love of my life, and I walked away from our marriage," she professed, regret evident. "I gave up."
Arizona shook her head, stubbornly insisting, "I made you give up." She couldn't stand Callie blaming herself.
"It doesn't matter," Callie maintained with a shrug. They might both stubbornly blame themselves, but that wouldn't solve anything.
"The point is: I'm sorry."
Arizona felt her entire body soften, as if her heart and innards were on display. As if she was skinless, free of protection in the cool night air.
The only thing that could protect her was the warm form standing two feet in front of her. But that same form could also be the cause of her unraveling.
"I'm sorry I left. Both times. We were supposed to always be together, but I bailed."
"I wanted you to go the second time," Arizona argued, attempting to take off some of the blame from Callie's shoulders. "I wanted you to be happy."
"I'm not," Callie countered with a tiny shake of the head. "You changed everything I knew about love. You changed everything I knew about…everything," she finished, her tone awed. "And, after all this time, you're still the one for me: the only person I want to love."
Feeling a sense of nakedness, she watched Arizona's still face as she digested the words.
Callie was desperate to just kiss her and show her all the love she felt, but she restrained herself. She still didn't feel that she had the right.
"I…" Arizona finally began, pausing at the intensity with which Callie watched her, eyes full of so much hope and expectation.
"It's been a long time, Callie," she finally verbalized, voice low and taut. "And I could never let you go, but." She paused. "I thought you'd forgotten about me."
Thawing at the emotion in Arizona's voice—it was what she had been waiting for: an inkling of care—Callie felt her heart settle. Sofia had been right: Arizona still loved her. And she'd always, always loved Arizona.
"I couldn't remember anything else."
The following night, it was Arizona who showed up on Callie's—or, well, Meredith's—doorstep.
After a sleepless night of tireless pacing, endless thinking, and bottomless appreciation that Sof was back home at last and there to stay, Arizona had digested Callie's words.
Callie loved her. She'd always loved her. She'd blamed herself for eight years for their divorce until, finally, she'd received a sign.
Sofia had forwarded a sign from Arizona, and that was all that Callie had needed. Just the tiniest hint of hope that Arizona loved her.
And Arizona loved her. Callie was, and always would be, her everything.
And, when she knocked on the door, it was Callie who answered, eyes wide, lips parted.
"Hi."
"Hi."
Callie stepped outside, gently shutting the door behind her. She stood in front of Arizona, open and waiting.
"You, um," Arizona began. "You said you were sorry for leaving."
Callie nodded. She was. She was so, so incredibly sorry for leaving—both their marriage and Seattle. Giving up on their marriage was her greatest mistake, and her greatest regret.
"And I wanted to say: I'm sorry, too," she continued, ignoring Callie's knitting brows as she explained, "I'm sorry I didn't stop you."
Callie's lips curled up into a poignant smile. "Me, too," she admitted honestly, joking, "It would have saved us a lot of heartache."
Arizona smiled back, as best she could. "It would've." She felt on edge with Callie so close.
Callie's heat radiated towards her, her smell permeating her senses. Arizona could practically taste her. As far as her senses were concerned, with Callie, she was home.
Stalling, she ran her tongue over her bottom lip, watching Callie silently watch her, waiting.
The ball was in her court, and she had never been good at tennis.
She was, however, extremely determined to reclaim their love.
"Callie, I…" she exhaled, breath hitching as Callie leaned towards her—just an inch or two closer, but close enough that Arizona no longer could see anything else.
She only saw those soulful eyes, whirpooling nothing but love, and those full pink lips that tempted her.
Suddenly, she forgot what she had been planning to say.
Instead, all that came out were three simple, inadequate words that only hinted at the depth of her feelings. "I love you."
Callie inhaled a sharp breath, the simple expression bringing about a physiological reaction that she felt from tress to toenail. She leaned in closer, desperate to touch. "I love you, too."
Entranced, Arizona leaned in, her eyes closing instinctively. Breathily, she continued, "And I want to kiss you."
Their lips were a hair's breadth away, and Callie felt her heart pound as Arizona's sweet breath brushed her lips. On instinct, her hands came up to soothe over a soft waist, her thumbs automatically stroking Arizona's skin through her shirt, tingling at the feeling.
She'd never felt that with anyone else. Ever.
She watched cerulean blue eyes darken to navy as Arizona broke through the final boundary between them, cupping caramel cheeks with her smooth palms.
Callie watched as Arizona's gaze went back to her mouth, and she licked her lips in anticipation. "Arizona…" The wait was tantalizing.
Arizona eyes flashed back to hers. "I'm never letting you go, again," she vowed, her tone quietly defiant.
Callie's leaned down, brushing her lips against Arizona's, and their eyelids instinctively fell closed.
"I'll only ever go where you are," Callie promised.
And then they were kissing. Really, really kissing. Slowly. Tenderly. Sensually. Deeply.
And, despite their lips' muscle memory, it was an entirely new feeling. It was heart-stoppingly good, and homey, and unlike anything they'd ever felt—not just in the past eight years, but ever.
It was a feeling of true emotion, and belonging, and love.
And they remained wrapped around each other, reacquainting each other, their shapes wavering and bending to fit around each other perfectly, until Meredith threw open the door, bellowing, "CALLIE, DID YOU WANT WINE W-" And then stopping short, jaw dropping, as Callie and Arizona attempted to extract themselves from one another, cheeks burning.
Meredith was thrilled for her friends' good fortune—for their permanent reconciliation—but she didn't say so, just yet. Instead, she smirked, "Never mind. After all that, I doubt you're even hungry for dinner." Happily, she shut the door, not wanting to interrupt further.
As soon as she left, Callie and Arizona turned towards each other, eyes and mouths laughing as they released all the pent-up tension that remained: their bodies instead filling with only love.
After they'd recovered, Arizona brushed a piece of hair behind Callie's ear, admitting, "I missed that." Callie still had the best laugh. It was her favorite song.
Callie grinned, her eyes taking in Arizona's super-magic smile, and committing it to memory. "Me, too."
It was days later—rather than weeks or months—that Callie moved her stuff into Arizona's house.
She and Arizona loved each other, and they didn't have to make their situation more complicated than it needed to be. There was no need to take it slow!, to just date!, or to try and see what happens! They loved each other and wanted to spend every moment they could together, so Callie moved in.
And she didn't even care that the house looked like an Easter basket; she only cared that that it contained her family and love.
Her first night there, they put Sofia to bed together.
Filled with energy since her moms had reunited, the eleven-year-old jumped on her bread, the box springs creaking with every bounce.
"Come on, kiddo," Callie insisted, jestingly poking her ticklish side. "Time for bed."
"Nooo!" Sofia protested. "It's summer! I want to stay up with you!"
Arizona yawned. "Believe it or not, we're about to go to bed, too." She had intended on napping after a long surgery that day—and after only getting four hours of sleep the night before—but, when she'd found Callie in the on-call room, she hadn't exactly slept in that bed.
And Callie was exhausted from the busy hustle-and-bustle of Grey-Sloan. She was glad to be back—elated, in fact—but re-familiarizing herself with her old workplace had tired her out.
Sofia plopped down onto the bed. "Fiiiine," she acquiesced. Frankly, she would have given into any of her moms' requests. She was just happy that they were together. She pulled her blankets over herself, grabbing Boo from her night table and tucking the bunny safely under her sheet. "I'll sleep."
Callie smiled. "That's our girl." She leaned down, planting a kiss on her forehead. "I love you."
"Love you, too, Mama."
Arizona then leaned down, placing her lips exactly where Callie's had been a second before. "I love you, sweetie."
"Love you, Mommy."
After shutting off Sof's light, Callie and Arizona walked hand-in-hand into their own room—at least for now. Down the line, they knew that they'd find a house perfectly suited for both of them.
As Callie stood at their bathroom sink, reaching for her toothbrush, Arizona came up behind her, wrapping her arms around the taller woman's middle.
Callie smiled, feeling her own body and soul warm at the simple act of love. "Hi."
Arizona dimpled. "Hi." She nuzzled her nose into the taller woman's shoulder, pleased just to breathe her in. She exhaled a blissful sigh. "You make me so happy, Calliope."
Callie's smile widened, blooming like a rose. "I know," she agreed. "I almost can't believe how happy I've been these last few days, with you. I didn't even know life could feel this good."
Together, they crawled into bed, and Callie wrapped her body around Arizona, heaving a cheerful, albeit sleepy, sigh against the nape of her porcelain neck.
Arizona felt goosebumps line her spine, and she hummed in approval as Callie dropped a warm kiss there.
In a gravelly voice, Callie began, "I forgot how much I missed this." There was no pleasure as simple as falling asleep with Arizona in her arms, and she'd forgotten that.
Eyes still closed, Arizona smiled. "I didn't." She hadn't ever forgotten, and in that moment, she was just happy to finally be able to experience the simple pleasure, once again.
A few minutes later, they were awoken by Sofia as, pillow in hand, she tiptoed into the room, tapping Arizona's shoulder until she stirred and woke up.
"Sof, what is it?" Arizona worried, sitting up in bed. She could hardly open her eyes, still partially in Dreamland.
"Can I sleep in here?" Sof whispered.
Callie let out a low grouse, annoyed by the noise. "What's wrong?" she grumbled, rolling onto her back and rubbing her tired eyes.
Arizona sighed, addressing their daughter's question. "Sure, sweetie. There's room on Mama's other side."
Grateful, Sofia scrambled onto Callie's side of the bed, tucking her pillow under her head and closing her eyes.
"You good?" Callie checked.
Sofia nodded, and Callie turned back onto her side, wrapping her arm around Arizona and hugging her close.
Silently, Sofia scooted towards them, until she wrapped herself around her mama's convex form and lifted her own arm to drape it over both of her moms.
Callie and Arizona smiled through their sleep, feeling like a family at last.
Then, Arizona remembered something. "Wait!" she burst out, eyes snapping open.
"What?" "What?!"
"You forgot Boo," she fretted, knowing Sofia couldn't sleep without her.
But Sofia just shook her head. Shutting her eyes again in total contentment, she tightened her hold on the two people she loved most. "I don't need her. I have you."