Summary: What if you have a chance to go back to your past and change your life? What if you can live your life differently, make new choices? Will it make a difference? Or will making a different choice still take you down the same route? What if your decision changes the rest of your life and everything is different from what it is supposed to be? What would happen if you make the wrong choice?
"Get your hands off my wife," Eriol said quietly as he walked into the dressing room. His quiet voice was lethal as he stared stoically at his former best friend. Syaoran had his arm draped casually at the back of Tomoyo's chair; Eriol halted in front of Tomoyo and Syaoran, in his arms laid a dozen roses beautifully wrapped. Tomoyo quickly pushed Syaoran away, not wanting any misunderstanding between her husband and Syaoran.
"Eriol," she jumped up, determined to stop him from murdering Syaoran, "what are you doing here? I thought that you were in Japan for the promos?"
Eriol stared at Syaoran, who was lounging back in the chair and staring at the couple in amusement. His eyes never left Syaoran as he replied Tomoyo's question. "The promos ended early, so I came back early. I knew you had filming today so I thought I'll give you a pleasant surprise," he finally looked at her. "But I guess you weren't as pleasantly surprised as I hoped you would be, are you?"
Tomoyo's heart thudded hard and slow in her chest as she gazed up at her husband. "What are you implying? Of course I'm happy that you're back; why would I not be?"
"You're still in love with him aren't you?" Eriol finally said, his voice calm as the sea before the storm. His eyes flicked over to Syaoran and he watched as Syaoran sat up straight with a frown creasing his forehead.
Tomoyo gave a nervous laugh and touched Eriol's arm, "No, of course not. Where on earth did you get that ridiculous idea?" Eriol ignored her denial, "All these years, you never cared for me, and you never stopped loving him. For you, only Syaoran was worthy enough for you. Tell me this, when I'm kissing you, did you imagine that I was him?" Eriol nodded at Syaoran. "Did that make it more tolerable for you?"
Tomoyo was horrified and sickened at what Eriol was suggesting. They've been married for 4 years and he could still say something like that? Tomoyo pulled back her arm and slapped him – hard. The impact when her palm made contact with his cheek jarred the roses from Eriol's hands and snapped his head to the side. Tomoyo felt the stinging sensation in her hand and realized that for the first time in four years, she was angry.
It was a good, solid emotion. She wasn't feeling insecure; she wasn't feeling sad or guilty. She wasn't afraid. She was just plain angry. She didn't want to worry about anything; right now, she wanted to scream at Eriol.
"No, I don't love Syaoran. I've definitely never imagined it was him making love to me, kissing me when we are together. And I do care about you, you idiot! I love you! There, I've said it. I don't care if you ridicule me for loving you, I don't care if you don't love me, but you can't just walk in the door and start accusing me of infidelity when all along my greatest mistake was loving my husband who didn't want me to love him! You have no right at all to be angry with me, no right at all, do you hear me? You don't love me, so why are you so worked up just because Syaoran put his arm around my chair? It doesn't mean anything, just like I don't mean anything to you."
Tomoyo knew she was screaming at Eriol. She knew she was attracting a good-sized crowd including Syaoran, a few makeup and hair people, production assistants and a few tabloid reporters who were no doubt relishing this scene. Eriol worked hard to contain the smile that threatened to spread across his face. He knew that Tomoyo wouldn't appreciate the smile. She would probably punch his lights out if he dared break into a smile. And he had to admit that he wanted to do more than break into a smile. He wanted to wrap his arms about her waist and kissed her. He wanted to kiss his lovely, infuriated wife until they were both gasping for breath. He wanted to take her to bed and watched the angry glow in her eyes turn into glow of an entirely different nature.
But employing his immense control, Eriol suppressed the primal urge. "It's only for a while," he comforted himself. Eriol let his eyes meet Syaoran's over Tomoyo's shoulder and Syaoran gave him a wink. Eriol gave him a brief nod and Syaoran stood up nosily.
Tomoyo turned around, her attention caught by Syaoran. She was still angry and she wanted to have it out with Eriol. She didn't appreciate Syaoran's interruption.
"Well, I guess I've done my job." Syaoran announced brightly as he checked his watch and grinned, "Seven minutes were all the time she took before she confessed her love. Remember Eriol, you owe me three thousand dollars." He called out to Eriol, who merely nodded. "And you said she'll take days," he chortled.
"What in the world," Tomoyo interrupted Syaoran's gloating, "are you talking about?" Her lovely eyes were spitting fire at Syaoran and she looked more than ready to commit murder.
Syaoran stopped laughing, "Well, you see, there is something that I forgot to mention to you. Eriol and I reconciled like half a year ago. We agreed that we're too old to let this cold war go on. Besides, he needed my help in making his stubborn wife admit that she loves him too."
"Honey," Eriol's voice distracted Tomoyo; she turned to him, her lovely face reflecting her confusion. Eriol bent down to retrieved the roses to hide his unsteady emotion; he needed time to compose himself, to contain his emotions. He picked the roses up and rearranged them slowly before presenting them to Tomoyo. "I think that what Syaoran is trying to say is, I love you too."
Tomoyo stared at Eriol's out stretched hand and accepted the flowers dumbly. She stared at Eriol, and then dropped her gaze to the wilted flowers.
Eriol waited for her to say something, anything.
The crowd surrounding them held their breaths, waiting for her response.
Syaoran edged out the room, with a smile on his face. He knew everything would be fine between Eriol and Tomoyo now. He was going to visit Sakura and tell her the good news.
Tomoyo finally looked at Eriol again and Eriol saw the tears shimmering in the depths of her Tomoyo's eyes. "Tell me that again, Eriol, I never thought that you'll ever say that to me again."
With a hoarse groan, Eriol closed his arms around Tomoyo and pulled her into his embrace, crushing the roses between them. "I love you, I love you, I love you. Do you know how long I've wanted to say that? But I was too scared. I was so afraid that if I say it to you at the wrong time, you might run away from me and I'll never see you again, never touch you or hear you," Eriol pulled slightly apart from Tomoyo and gazed heatedly at her upturned face. His voice turned husky when his eyes fell from Tomoyo's face to her mouth. Eriol lowered his lips to her.
Eriol kissed Tomoyo amidst the crowd and Tomoyo responded with all the love she felt for him. She was home. She was finally home. Trapped in their world, both noticed neither the claps and wolf whistles nor the flashes from the various cameras around the room.
Syaoran removed the wilted bouquet of peonies and placed the fresh bunch of peonies he'd brought gently at Sakura's tombstone. He straightened and took off the sunglasses covering his eyes with a flick of his wrist. With his feet planted firmly apart, his head bowed, Syaoran stared at Sakura's picture at the tombstone for a long while, saying nothing, just looking at her and feeling the all familiar ache raising in his heart.
He stared at her smiling face until the ache became too painful for him to tolerate, then Syaoran closed his eyes and sat down, his back leaning against the tombstone. He came here at least once a week, when he needed to think, when he missed Sakura so terribly that the pain was almost physical. It never was easy to see her face on the tombstone, because it reminded him of the tangible truth, that Sakura was dead, buried and rotting 6 feet under. That he would never be able to see her happy again, never be able to touch her, never be able to speak to her about his problems and be able to listen to her lecture him, never be able to hear her laugh, never be able to tell her how much he loves her…
It has been four years, but still, everyday he goes home calling out her name, expecting her to come running to him – only to remember that she is dead. It was weird the way he expected her to be there for him. When she was alive, he took her existence for granted. He never even noticed her underfoot unless she worked the graveyard shift in the hospital. He never realized that she was a regular in his house, even more so than her own sister who was supposed to marry him. He never realized that she kept his house clean and tidy. He never fully appreciated her, not until she wasn't there for him anymore, not until she had abandoned him.
It's really funny how he could so easily forget about Tomoyo. It's even funnier he never once suspected that he could be in love with Sakura when she was still alive. When it came to being stupid, Syaoran supposed that he ranked right there on top. Syaoran considered it a miracle that Eriol could bury the hatchet and take him back as a friend after Syaoran betrayed his trust and went out with the girl he knew Eriol still loved behind his back. Syaoran could still remember the look of disbelief and hostility on Eriol's face when he confronted him with the news.
**FlashBack**
"Tell me this isn't true," Eriol demanded, slapping the newspaper on the table. "Look me in the eye and tell me that this isn't you with your arm around Tomoyo's waist."
Syaoran knew his time was up. He knew from the moment he begun dating Tomoyo that this was bound to happen sooner or later. Prayers for Eriol not to find out about him and Tomoyo were apparently rejected. Syaoran swallowed hard, not looking at the newspapers and not looking at Eriol.
"I'm sorry, Eriol," Syaoran said in a low, apologetic voice after a short, tense pause.
Eriol stared at his guilt-ridden face for a full minute, saying nothing, doing nothing. Out of the corner of Syaoran's eyes, he could see Eriol clenching and unclenching his fists in a bid to control his anger. A vein was ticking at the side of Eriol's temper. Syaoran mentally and physically braced himself for a blow from Eriol.
But Eriol never did hit him. He simply straightened and walked off without saying another word. From that day onwards, Eriol avoided him and rejected all Syaoran's overtures. When they meet during parties, premieres, or concerts, Eriol looked right through Syaoran and Tomoyo.
**End FlashBack**
If Syaoran had done things differently, if only he had really seen and recognize what he had all along, none of them would have to suffer.
"This isn't your fault," he could almost hear Sakura's voice saying that to him. "You didn't want it to turn out like this either. All humans make mistakes and you did more than your share at repairing the damage you've inflicted." Syaoran smiled at his frivolity.
"Remember Sakura, I told you about what Eriol and I have planned to make your stubborn cousin admit she loves him? It worked just fine. She got really angry with him and blurted out she loves him. You should have seen her; she looked so magnificent facing Eriol off, just like a warrior queen. You would have been proud of her. And Eriol. He glowed like a light bulb when she finally said what he's been waiting for an eternity to hear.
"Right now, Eriol have probably hauled her halfway home and is kissing her senseless." Syaoran looked at the faded picture and lifted a hand to gently trace Sakura's smiling features with a finger. "You should have been here to see them, they are so happy. They deserved to be happy."
His voice turned pained, "Do you blame me, Sakura? Did you ever blame me for being such a blind idiot? Until the day I was to be married to Tomoyo, I didn't even know that I was making a mistake. Until you died and I found your diary, I didn't even dare to face up to my feelings. I'm such a coward." Syaoran let his hand dropped from the picture and leaned his head against the tombstone, wanting to feel closer to Sakura and knowing that this was the closest he could get. Anguish bubbled just below his unruffled handsome exterior.
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Author's Note: Sorry for the lack of updates! Hope you all like this chapter. For some reason, while writing it, I felt happy, yet also sad for the characters. Anyhow, what do you guys think? Review and tell me, alright?