"Old college boyfriend? Affair gone wrong? Seems a bit trite doesn't it?"
"This isn't one of your books Castle. Not every murder story has to have a twist ending."
"But it doesn't make sense, does it? She was happily married? Why an affair?"
"Maybe she got bored."
"I knew Victoria Kruger. She was many things, but not bored by her marriage." He toys with the spoon in his empty cup, eyes downcast. "I was kinda envious to be honest."
They'd stepped back from the cliff-face they were approaching with the flirting before, gone back to more mundane topics and kept their physical distance, before he'd brought up the case again. She'd known he wouldn't be able to resist the allure of trying to figure out the story, keep playing with the puzzle pieces, and frankly she missed it too much not open up when he asked.
She agreed with his assessment. Every instinct she had rang alarm bells about the so-called affair.
"So she never hit on you then for her extra-marital shenanigans?"
Something of the old sparkle is in his eyes again, his lips curving into that smirk that infuriates her while being making her stomach flip.
"When you're as ruggedly handsome as I am, you learn to develop a certain innate instinct for the women resist to your charms. Victoria was not interest in what I have in my pants, trust me…bar maybe my wallet." He quirks an eyebrow at her, hammering home the double entendre
She rolls her eyes. She can't help herself. There it is, that old Castle cockiness that was also an indelible ingredient in their chemistry, the way he'd get under her skin.
"You know Castle, there are straight women who are also impervious to your…charms."
"Oh, really?" An over-the-top hangdog expression appears on his face. "That's ego-deflating."
"Mission accomplished."
"I did forget about your not-so-hidden mean streak."
"You didn't forget because you like it."
It's already easier. The banter, the trading of barbs. She doesn't know whether it's simply the extra time in his company, or the fact he agreed to meet her again, spend time with her again, but she doesn't feel the weight bearing down on them as much as she did even a day or two ago.
"Maybe I did like it, just a little." He acknowledges the point with a small smile, large hands cradling his cup as he takes a sip.
"I wish I could frame the moment for posterity."
He doesn't say anything, just raises his eyebrows. The air around them stills, noises fade. Lessons on the nature of honesty in their relationship aren't for her to deliver.
"I'm just giving you an easy ride because…" He trails off, not quite willing to finish the sentence. She knows what the second half of it is anyway. Because it's been three years. Because I don't know if our connection is still there. Because I'm treating you with kid gloves.
The right reaction, and yet the wrong one is so many ways. She doesn't want him to treat her with kid gloves, but she can't blame him for doing so. She ran away once, and how can he know if she won't do the same again.
"I know why. And I'm sorry." Her voice is a whisper, her green-eyed gaze seeking him out.
"Me too." There's a rueful look on his face, one that mixes regret with determination, a combination she has rarely seen.
"Why you?"
"Should've. No…could've fought harder. Didn't." His voice is a blade that cleaves her to her bones. "Didn't want to fight for you anymore. Wanted you to come…without fighting. Was tired of fighting."
She closes her eyes, flinching from his words, from his expression, as if she can deny they exist at all if she simply shuts her eyes for a moment, just blocks out the world.
It isn't that easy.
"Me too." She can't go above that whisper, can't lend the words too much volume, too much weight. She has to inch her way first, each syllable testing the way forward, making sure it won't break if she release the truth.
He waits. He's always waited for her.
"I was tired of fighting myself too. I thought I was there, you know, ready. The walls were down. And then that case came up, with Maddox. Everything was a jumble, a mess. You too."
His gaze is clear and steady, a contrast to how her voice quivers and wavers, a reed in the wind.
"I wanted you. You know that. But I also wanted to find my mom's killer."
"I asked you to put me first." There's no apology in his voice. There's sadness, yes. Grief and regret and maybe a tinge of anger too. The emotions wash over his face, and she can see them. Ever wrinkle, every etch, every part of his face that she's able to read just like he can read her.
The face that has haunted her dreams and her waking hours for the past three years.
"You did. And every day for the last three years I've woken up questioning that decision. More and more wishing there was a rewind and replay button for my life." She strokes the fingers of one hand with the other, comforting herself if nothing else. "That I screwed up the best thing I'd ever had in my life, and missed my shot at any kind of future with a happy ending."
"Why now, Kate? Why are you telling me now?"
"I wish I had some magical reason. Some epiphany in some do-or-die situation that made me realise what had happened. But you know, life's rarely easy like that. We missed too many of our own chances when they came attached with brushes to death. No, it's nothing sudden. Nothing clean. Just three years of slow drip."
His eyes crinkle, and now the blue is warm. Not like the sun, not like how he used to look at her In the old days when she felt blessed by the radiance. But like a campfire in the night, a slow battle against the cold, a flicker of a hope.
He reaches out, slowly, deliberately, enfolding her smaller, slimmer fingers with his own. This isn't about the lust and the desire any more (thought that still simmers away under the surface, never far away), but about the comfort. Like an old and faithful blanket rediscovered, it's familiar smell and touch bringing a peace and security of its own.
"Tell me."
"Well I dug into my mom's case in every spare minute. Trying not think about you, mostly. Back down the rabbit hole. But there was nothing. No leads, no connections, no edges to pry things open with. Sank into work."
She looks down at the table, unable to meet his eyes. His fingers squeeze hers. He's here. He's listening. It's a lot further than she'd ever imagined them coming.
She pushes on.
"Kevin and Jenny have a kid now. I'm an aunt, of sorts. Sometimes I look at them, and think about what my therapist used to tell me. About what I could and couldn't do for my mom, and what I could and couldn't do for myself. About what she'd want for me out of my life."
A single tear wells up at the corner of her eye at the thought, one she's wrestled with, of her mom telling her that all she ever wanted for her to be happy.
"I just…I mean it's happened over the last few years really. Eyes unwillingly opened you could say. I thought about calling you every week, if not every day."
She falls silent again. That's a lot to process, a lot to thrown out into the world. She's put things into words she's not even known she was feeling till she reached out for them. When she looks back up at him, his features are preternaturally still and composed. For a man so carefree about wearing his emotions on his face, on deflecting with a joke, it is a rare sight.
"That's a lot to lay on me, Kate." His voice is equally neutral. Not accusatory, necessarily, but not completely welcoming either.
"Wasn't quite expecting a deluge like that myself Castle."
His fingers tap out a slow, steady rhythm on the wooden surface of the table between them. The moment teeters on a knife-edge, and she feels her stomach clenching, her muscles tightening. She doesn't know how she'll react if he walks away now, but she sure as hell isn't going to give up again. Not this time.
"Let's get out of here. We should have the rest of this conversation somewhere more private." He gets up as he speaks, and she moves to follow him.
It's nothing more than a stay of execution, but she'll take it.
I had a lot of trouble with this chapter (hence the huge delay) but eventually I kinda had to throw up the hands and post something (I've written this chapter 4-5 times and I'm still not happy with it).
Expect this fic to irregularly update till finished. I won't leave it incomplete.