There, with Arizona standing beside her in the scrub room as they both scrubbed out, Callie couldn't stay silent any longer.
"Arizona?" Under the running water, she continued to scrub beneath her fingernails, never letting up on the rhythmic task.
Arizona glanced up, greeting Callie with a wavering smile.
It had been two years since their brutal — though amicable divorce — and, still, she could easily do surgery with Callie. She could eat lunch with her and their friends. She could even gossip with her about the trivial stuff. Actually talking, though, was something she wasn't sure she could do.
Callie exhaled an uneasy breath. God. She didn't know how to tell Arizona how she felt. How could she? She had been the one to walk away. She couldn't just say she wanted Arizona back. Not after two years. But it had taken two years for her wounds to heal — over the plane crash, and the cheating, and everything.
And she had realized that she still wanted Arizona. Or, well, she wanted her again.
Because they had both had time to heal. So, maybe, they could start again. Maybe, just maybe, they could start anew. "I think…" She paused. "I think I have something to tell you."
Arizona's eyebrows flew up, and she began to worry her bottom lip between her pearl teeth. "About?" What could Callie have to say? Was it about someone she was dating?
"Us," Callie confided.
Arizona shut off the water. Welp. They were talking. And, as much as Arizona dreaded it, in part, she was also grateful for it. There was a lot she had realized over the past two years. And there was so much she wanted to say.
Feeling her heart slamming sporadically against her ribs, Callie turned towards Arizona, mentally preparing herself to continue.
Arizona faced her, both of their postures revealing their openness and trust in the other. Neither was closed off, neither's arms crossed, neither's stance defensive. They were scared, sure, but strong. Neither was willing to back down from whatever came next.
Finally, Callie offered, "Two years ago, we went to marriage counseling."
Arizona gulped.
"And we ended up fighting with each other more than fighting for each other," Callie continued, gaining confidence. "And maybe we should have fought harder, and maybe I should regret that we didn't, but I don't."
What was Callie saying? Arizona had thought, just for a second, that the woman she loved — and had realized she still wanted — might have felt the same. But if Callie didn't regret walking away… "Callie."
Callie's receptive eyes shot up to baby blues, her mouth shutting abruptly as she paused her own soliloquy to allow Arizona to speak.
"I don't regret that you left, either," Arizona asserted. And she didn't. It was only long after their divorce that she had realized how much she truly wanted and wanted to prioritize Callie. It had allowed her to focus on herself and then discover what she really wanted. "And…" She paused, carefully gauging the brunette's indecipherable expression. "Now, I still have some fight in me."
Eyes widening in understanding, Callie breathed, "Me, too." Then, she clarified, "I mean, for you. Not with you. I don't want to fight with you."
Slowly, two dimples bloomed on pink cheeks as she marveled at the woman in front of her. "Yeah?"
Callie nodded. "I just…what I've ultimately learned is that I don't want to live without you, Arizona. Not another second. I've loved other people in my life, I know, but it's never, ever compared to how I love you. So I want to fight for you, and I want to fight for our marriage. I want you back."
Arizona felt her throat go dry. She couldn't even comprehend how incredible it felt that they were both on the same page. That they both had the same priorities. Finally. That they both realized how much they loved the other. "I want you back, too. You're the only one I ever want."
