2022

Henry stands in his apartment, right where she left him. The memories assault his brain, overwhelming him. Reminding him of her betrayal and his pain. Reminding him of her pain. He remembers the day of Jason's graduation, the day he left her for the second time. But most importantly he remembers the words that he finally got right before the drunk driver t-boned him. He grabs his phone and calls her.

She debates on answering. Her mind telling her to let it die, to finally find the strength to leave him in the past but in this moment, she can't. She doesn't know why. There is something about him, which constantly brings her to her knees, but never lets her stay there long enough for the pain to subside. She finds herself drawn back into him again and again.

"Yeah?" He hears the tears in her voice. The pain. He hears her desperate attempt to cover both by the way her breath is too even to be a brain stem function. He wants to hold her, tell her everything will be okay, but all he can do is ask her one question.

"Can we talk. Please?" He's sure he sounds desperate. He is desperate. He fucked up, when he left her, when he destroyed the lives they had built that revolved around each other. "Please." Henry begs her. He feels as if his life is hanging by a thread.

She doesn't answer. Instead she clicks off the call with one click, leaving him wondering what just happened. He feels tears start falling down his face, he feels his heart break, and this time he's sure to never be healed.

She gets up from her place in the cafe. Hanging up on him didn't feel the way she expected it to. It didn't feel victorious. It felt like another failure. Another blow. So she begins her walk back to his apartment. She can't help but look at her feet, listening to the sound of her shoes hitting the ground. She can see the street lights flashing red and blue. Her body is shaking. The wind has picked up, blowing through her hair and eyes. It's cold, in New York today. It reminds her of that cold day in Geneva that end their marriage. The wind carries the scent of the city, reminding her of the love they shared, when they spent their first anniversary here. She walks through the streets of Manhattan, trying to shake away the memories, but the more she shakes the stronger those memories get.

As she reaches his building, she stops. She debates on going back in. The look on his face when she left him alone an hour ago was of pure devastation. She knows that feeling, she felt it twice. When he walked out of their therapy session and again we he left for New York. She takes a deep breath, taking in the smell of the city, the feel of the wind, and the sight of the night sky. She opens the door and slowly steps inside and makes her way back to his apartment.

She raises a hand to knock on the door, she hears him inside. He's pacing around. That's something she knows Henry does. When he's stressed or upset, or has writes block. He paces. His mind working overtime, trying to solve the problem. Henry is active and tactile and alive. He needs to move, talk, and touch. He feels things so deeply that its no wonder he always has physical expressions to match his verbal ones.

"Elizabeth." His voice is a surprised raspy whisper. It sends a shiver down her spine. He opens the door and she steps into his living room.

"I'm sorry for hanging up on you." She says, almost whispering. They stare at each other in silence. A large tear rolls down his cheek. She wraps her arms around him, holding him tight. All of the words he wanted to say, the speech he wanted to give, are completely lost on him now. Now, in this moment, while they onto each other in a way they have not in years. She tucks her head into his neck, laying her lips against his skin.

He pulls away from her slightly, looking at her. She looks beautiful. She is always beautiful to him, but there's something about her in this moment. Maybe it's the trauma of his near death three weeks ago. Maybe it's the shock not remembering and then remembering. Whatever it is, the way he sees her now, he sees her beauty on a whole new level.

"You came back." He says is disbelief. She nods, she isn't sure why, maybe it's because it's what she needed to do. Maybe it's because she needed to see him alive again, to know he didn't die on her. Maybe it's because she can't let go of the love she has for him, no matter how much she has tried, or how badly she may want to.

"You left me. Twice. And it hurt both times. There are days when I think I'm insane for still feeling the way I do about you. And then there are the days when I think about how lucky I am to have the privilege of loving someone the way I love you. I'm not saying that I want to get back together, or that the thought of it doesn't scare me. But when I got the call about your accident… I realized that the thought of not getting to tell you how much I still love you scares me more." She tells him, fighting back tears. He takes her hands in his and looks directly into her eyes. He sees something there, a softness, a desire, a hope. Something he hasn't seen in ages. The thing that has previously been blocked by her anger at him, by her hurt.

"I fucked up." The phrase is not at all eloquent. It's not the language he's known for using. But he can't find his usual polished words. He knows that this is his chance. This is his opportunity to make things right. To fix everything that he broke. To lead them back to where they were always meant to be. To the place he and Elizabeth were created to belong.

He reaches out, placing his fingers on her cheek. "I don't regret any of the time we spent together. As fucked up as it is. I got sick. I couldn't handle what I had done. What I had let happen to that kid. So I blamed you, because I couldn't handle my own guilt. And then when I left. When I filed for the divorce, I felt freer. But then I realized how badly I had hurt you. And I didn't know what to do. I thought that I would destroy you if we tried again. That you could never forgive me. I couldn't bear the idea of hurting you, because I know I'm capable of it. So I made the decision that I wouldn't see you. That I would move here, that I would give you the chance to be happy." His voice catches.

"But then Stevie got married. And I watched as you cried to Frampton, and I knew that you still loved me. And I realized that maybe we could have another chance. And it would be taking a risk. We could hurt each other all over again..." he trails off. He glances at her. She gives him a small smile. She knows exactly what is going through his mind. She knows what is going through hers. She knows it would not be healthy to just jump back in full hearted. Even if right now, it's all she wants to do. She runs her hand along his face. She feels his beard stubble under her palm. He leans forward, kissing her gently. She refuses to let herself melt into him. She pulls away.

"We have more to talk about. More to discuss. Henry, we..." she stops, unsure of what she wants to say next. She knows it has to be said, but how does one say it? How is it possible to explain something so big, and yet remain calm about it?

"We can't just jump back in. There's too much history. Too much hurt." She looks down at the floor. She feels him moving closer to her, but she turns away from him. Her greatest instinct in this moment is to push him away. To shut him out and to protect herself. She wants to run. She wants to hide. She wants to scream. She wants to punch something. She knows she cannot do any of these things.

"I know." He replies softly. His hands reach out, touching her chin.

"I mean, you can say all of those, nice words to me. You can tell me you're sorry. But that does nothing to actually fix anything. To actually re-build anything. And I'm not sure how to go about fixing things between us. Because I feel like we've been broken beyond repair. And even if we were fixed, how long would it take before we broke again?" He nods, because he's had the same fears. They sit in silence. Neither wanting to speak. Both knowing that the only way to start this conversation is to begin it. They look at each other. Neither one willing to move. Henry finally breaks the silence.

"Maybe... we just start with friendship. Not dating, no sex. Just friendship. And we let that grow. See where it goes. Maybe we'll end up with something else. Or maybe we won't. But I feel like we owe it to each other to try. And if that means we're friends, and never anything more again, then so be it. I'd rather try than be in this limbo forever, wondering what might have been." He says quietly. Elizabeth stays silent for a long time. She thinks about his offer of friendship. There was a time before they were lovers where they really were just friends, but that was so long ago. The history they share now, the marriage, the kids, the divorce, is so much more complicated than the two study partners they once were. They both have to agree to a new ground zero. A starting point. They have to decide whether or not there's room for them to find their way back to each other. And maybe he's right, maybe that starting point is friendship. She looks up at him. She sees the kindness in his eyes. She sees the gentle expression on his face. She wants to believe that. She really wants to believe that. But she's scared.

"I don't know. Maybe you had the right idea before, of just cutting each other off. Because I can see why you did it. I can see why you were so afraid of this, maybe I didn't before. But then... this is usually your job," she smiles at him, "but there is this Emily Brontë quote, Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. That's how I've always felt about you. I'm terrified. I'm terrified of getting back together, and having it fail. Of hurting you, of getting hurt by you. But I also know, that being hurt by you has never stopped me from loving you." She takes a deep breath. "I love you, Henry. That's not going to change. Loving you has been the only constant in my life for over thirty years. It's who I am. So, while I don't know what will happen, I'll say yes to friendship. But that's all I'm ready for right now. I need time." She pauses. "And so do you. So we just need to take this slow."

Henry nods. He knows she doesn't want to rush anything. And he doesn't either. He grabs her hand and gives it a tight squeeze.

"Thank you. For being willing to try." He doesn't say more than that, scared that his feelings for her will bubble over and tip the delicate balance they have right now. He knows that he needs to stay strong. He knows that he needs to give her space. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

"Okay. Bowling, when I'm no longer injured?" He asks her. Elizabeth nods.

"Bowling. When you're not injured." She smiles at him.