Fic: Well Maybe What You Want is Right Here 7/?
Title: Well Maybe What You Want is Right Here 7/?
Pairing: Arizona/Callie
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sometimes we don't realize what we want until we just know. Takes place a day or two after the scene in 11x08. Timeline may not be perfectly canon.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Thank you to my readers! Your comments are all very appreciated :)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
I carry Sofia through the quiet house and up the stairs, heading to my bedroom at the end of the hall. The hallway is dark and quiet, and I know both Alex and Jo are on shift tonight - which I’m suddenly thankful for. Crossing the now-familiar bedroom, I flip on the bedside lamp and gently lay the sleeping girl in the middle of the bed, pulling the blankets over her. I just watch her for a moment as she shifts and settles in, her arms tightening around Dino, and I can’t stop myself from reaching down and softly running my palm along her cheek. She’s my beautiful girl. She looks so much like her mother sometimes it kills me.
“I’m glad she’s a heavy sleeper.”
Callie’s soft voice from the doorway interrupts my thoughts, and I look back at her with a small smile, straightening up.
“Guess she gets that from both of us, huh? Mark was a surprisingly delicate sleeper,” I laugh as I remember how he’d grumble and complain about Lexi’s every movement keeping him up some nights.
Her smile is a bit nostalgic for a moment, and she just nods.
“It’s true. Definitely from us.”
I shrug off my cardigan and toss it onto the back of the chair in the corner, and slip off my shoes, tiredly rubbing a spot on my hip. It was a long day on my feet today and I’m suddenly very aware of the slight throb in my left leg. The room has fallen silent, and I glance back over at Callie in the dim light.
“You can come in, you know. It’s alright.”
She bites her lip a little and hesitates, but then crosses the threshold into the room.
“I...wasn’t sure.”
I nod in understanding, carefully settling on the bed and sitting back against the headboard beside Sofia.
“It’s okay. Can we just sit upstairs? It’s been a long day.”
The brunette slips off her flats by the side of the bed and climbs up to sit on the other side of the child in the middle, pushing up the long sleeves of her t-shirt. She leans back against the headboard too, and turns her head to look at me, a swirl of emotions in her dark brown eyes.
“I just couldn’t wait. I wasted so much time not telling you anything, and it just all sort of hit me the last few days....I just needed you to know.”
I turn away, training my gaze on the wall opposite the bed, and just sit there quietly for a moment. Her speech from outside invades my mind again, and if it’s true...if she really meant all those things - my heart clenches painfully - does that mean we might actually end up together again? Does it mean we’re supposed to end up together? I want so badly to believe she’s being sincere, but I also don’t want to let myself get hurt again. I still love her so much...if I let her back in now, and then lose her again, I honestly don’t know if I could take it.
“Arizona?” she whispers, drawing my glance back to her briefly.
“I love you too, Callie,” I murmur and face forward again, my head resting back on the headboard, “I do, I never stopped. And I don’t know if you did, if you...fell out of love with me - but you should know that, too.”
“I nev-- ”
“Sh,” I shake my head, silencing her so I can speak, but also because I don’t think I can hear what she was about to say without bursting into tears, “We aired our dirty laundry when we were in therapy, I think we can both agree on that. We let it all out, we downright fought. But now...just listen, ok?”
Quiet falls over us again, and I can see her slight nod in my peripheral vision. Glancing down at our daughter, I smooth a hand over her blanket lightly, just watching the rise and fall of her chest.
“I want to be with you. But there are things I want...need...if that’s going to work. And I feel like we’ve talked and we’ve talked about these things before, so maybe we are just a lost cause like you said. But then you come here and tell me you still love me, and I can’t...I can’t not keep fighting for us. Never in my life have I wanted to fight for something so much, Callie.”
I nervously play with the edge of the blanket, carefully considering my next words. We’ve discussed the same things, the same problems, so many times now - we brought them out in therapy, we had a professional shove them in our faces to no avail. Yet somehow, something feels different about tonight. Maybe our relationship did need to be brutally, heartbreakingly ripped apart before we could reach this point.
“I want to be able to speak to you when something’s on my mind, without you interrupting. I don’t think you always mean to do it, but you do, and sometimes I just want to be able to say something and know that you actually hear it. Know that you actually care what I’m saying and feeling.”
I brush back baby-soft hair from Sofia’s face, feeling surprisingly calm now that I’ve started talking.
“And I want you to stop telling me how I feel. How I should feel. About my leg, about kids, about the miscarriage - I know we don’t always process things the same way, we never did - but I want you to stop telling me how you think I should deal with things. Because that hurts,” I glance up to find her watching me, an emotion I can’t quite read in her eyes, “and what I want...need...from a partner is for her to support me while I deal with things, big or small. Not to feel like I can’t come to her with my feelings because they don’t align with hers, or because she doesn’t want to see me that way.”
She swallows hard, and goes to speak before closing her mouth and cutting herself off silently. I just nod, appreciative that she actually seems to be listening, and run my hand back through my loose hair.
“I want you to actually be supportive. When this fellowship came up, you were immediately upset about it, Callie. Which I get - to a degree, I can understand where you were coming from. But at the same time, it was something huge for me, and you never even said congratulations. Not once.”
I turn my head to look at her now, and see the flicker of realization on her face.
“And that wasn't the first time you haven't, either. I love my career. I always have, and I always will. I want to do more than be a good surgeon, I want to be an amazing, successful, sought-after surgeon. But that doesn’t mean I can’t also have everything else, too.”
My hand is resting on Sofia’s side now, and I rub her small form lightly, almost unconsciously. It always comforts her...but in some ways, it comforts me, too.
“But there’s only time for so much...”
The words slip from Callie’s mouth in a whisper, as her eyes drop down to the child between us.
“You make time, Callie.”
I pause, shifting a little so I can comfortably face her while leaning my shoulder into the headboard.
“I want you to trust when I say I’ll make time. When I said I would always make time for us, and for Sofia. For another child - I meant it, Callie. I didn’t give up running my Peds department because I needed the time professionally, and I didn’t give it up for you either. I gave it up because I wanted the time to be a wife and a mother and to be with my family. I wanted that.”
She meets my eyes and holds them, studying me.
“You kept telling me I was going to resent you for making me give it up, that I didn’t really want to go through with the surrogacy. The reality was that I’ve changed over the last five years. I’m still an ambitious person - maybe to a fault - but my goals aren’t all professional anymore. And that’s because of you, yeah, but it’s a change I cherished, not resented.”
I stay silent for a few minutes, watching her brow furrow in thought as she drops her eyes. I can tell she’s itching to say something in response, but yet, she doesn’t. She just contemplates my words, and for once I feel like maybe something I say is finally sinking in.
“I want you to trust me, too.” I wait for her to look up again, and meet her eyes across the bed, “I don’t think you do. And maybe I don’t deserve it - maybe that’s the one thing I irreparably damaged between us - but I wish...I wish that you would. I want you to trust that I love you, and trust that I love our family. That I won’t hurt you intentionally.”
I turn away from her for a moment, steadying myself silently before I meet her eyes again.
“I still have dark days, Callie...days when it takes everything I have to pull myself out of bed and away from the nightmares and the pain, to just function at all. Days when I’m...not as nice a person as I want to be.”
Brown eyes swim with tears suddenly, and she takes an audible breath, trying to will them back.
“And I’ve accepted that those days might never go away, no matter how happy I am again. I want you to be able to understand that, and to trust that even on those days...it doesn’t change how I feel.”
I sit back again, looking up at the ceiling, my hand coming to rub at the dull ache in my left thigh. I wish I could make that part of me go away - I wish it with everything I have some days - but it’s who I am now. Sometimes it feels like there’s been so much loss in my life that I can’t handle it anymore, that it’s made me this horrible, bitter person. I’m terrified that it could come between us again someday.
“I understand that now.”
Her voice is low, and soft in the quietness of the room. Her tone is gentle, but in the way I used to love, not with patronising layers.
I turn to look at her again, and ask just as softly.
“Do you?”
She nods, keeping her eyes trained on my face.
“I do, Arizona. I...” she stumbles slightly over her words, but keeps the same, gentle tone in her voice, “there were so many dark days. So many. And I’ve come to realize that one of the biggest mistakes I made was taking them personally. Thinking that they meant you didn’t care about me, didn’t love me anymore. Or that you were punishing me. That you didn’t want me around.”
I swallow thickly, finding it hard to respond to that admission.
“Never for a minute did I not want you around.”
“And I’m sorry that’s how I reacted...I should have known better...”
At that I shake my head, interrupting the other woman firmly.
“No more apologies, Callie.”
Her brow furrows, and she looks at me with confusion written all over her face.
“What?”
“No more ‘I’m sorry’s,” I repeat, and I mean the words wholeheartedly, “We’ve each apologized for things we did, which we needed to - don’t get me wrong - but we can’t keep apologizing for the same things over and over.”
She considers my statement for a minute before nodding in agreement.
“You’re right.”
The bed between us shifts a little as Sofia rolls over and snuggles into the blanket more, giving off an adorable, innocent sigh. Both our gazes travel down to her, and as I watch her nose wrinkle and then relax back into a deep sleep, I’m just...overwhelmed with emotion.
“Can I say some things too?” Callie asks suddenly, breaking the silence that had settled between us. Her tone wasn’t demanding, or laced with annoyance; she spoke with a sincerity that I hadn’t heard from her in a long time.
And so I nod, still watching Sofia.
“Okay.”
“I want you to understand that I’m....I’m a person who always wants to help,” she shakes her head a little, “not help, but...I want to do things for you. I want to open doors, and carry things, and help you out of the tub or up off the floor after you’ve been playing with Sofia. I want to hold your hand when we walk, wrap my arm around your waist and let you lean into me. And it’s not because of your leg - it’s not because I think you can’t do them, because I know you can do all of these things yourself. It’s because I like doing them.”
I look at her as she speaks, surprised that that’s the first thing she’s bringing up. It hadn’t really occurred to me.
“And when you’ve had a long day, and I know your muscles are aching, I want to help you lessen that pain. I want to, not as your doctor but as...your partner. Who cares about you. I’ve always been this way, Arizona, and you know that. It’s just my nature to do everything I can for those I love. I want you to be able to accept that and to let me.”
I nod a little, understanding what she’s saying. After the crash...I felt like an invalid. And I was desperate that she wouldn’t see me as one too, so every offer of help, however innocuous, I perceived as something done out of pity. Because she had to. Because she thought I couldn’t handle it. In reality - it was true that she’d just always been that person.
“Give me your hand,” a strong arm reaches down toward the bathtub as I go to push myself out, and I laugh at her, smiling up at her face.
“It’s okay, it’s just been so comfy I don’t want to get out.”
She grasps my hand anyway from the side of the tub as I shift up, and gives a gentle, steadying tug to help me to my feet amidst the leftover bubbles. Leaning in to kiss me, she reaches back for one of the biggest, fluffiest towels I’ve ever seen outside of a hotel, and she holds it out for me to step into.
And I do, stepping carefully out of the water and letting her envelope me in both the towel and a warm embrace. Her lips press lightly against my bare shoulder, and she murmurs something in Spanish - the first time I’ve heard her speak it outside of ranting to her father.
“What did you say?” I tilt my head to see her, smiling.
One arm wraps more securely around me, almost possessively, and she tucks the towel into place with her free hand.
“You’re beautiful.”
“And I want you to tell me how you feel...” her voice interrupts my memory of that moment years ago, “how you feel about me.”
I meet her eyes again, watching something flicker through them.
“I have...”
“You did....but...you didn’t very often,” she looks at me almost nervously, but her voice carries no hint of judgement, “You told me you loved me, and you were always good at showing it - I knew you did. But you just...didn’t always say it often. Sometimes Mark used to tell me the things you’d say to him.”
She shakes her head a little and lets her gaze drop to the bed, almost uncharacteristically self-conscious from the woman I met years ago. It hits me suddenly that maybe I've done that to her, made her feel like she's something less -- and that thought makes me physically ache.
“That you told him I was beautiful, that you found me amazing. And it sounds selfish...I realize this maybe sounds egotistical coming out now...but I want to hear those things from you, Arizona. The things you feel about me, if you love me...I just want to hear it. I’m a person who needs to hear it.”
“Calliope...” her full name falls from my lips, barely audible. She’d brought it up during a teary therapy session, asked why I couldn’t have said all those things before about why I loved her, but I had assumed she just meant over the past six months we’d been having trouble. I hadn’t realized that it was bigger than that.
“I just, I like to hear it. You know? When I love someone I like to give my affections freely - and I know we’re different that way, I know you feel things and just don’t always say them, but that’s something that means a lot to me.”
I reach over instinctually, letting my fingers slide under her chin to tilt her eyes back up to mine. She meets them, surprised, and I let my touch linger just a moment.
“That’s something I could do. But Callie...please, please know that I always felt those things. If I didn’t say them, I always felt them.”
She gives me a small smile as my hand drops away.
“I know.”
We sit in a somewhat comfortable silence for awhile, both leaning back against the headboard once more, Sofia’s soft rustling the only sound in the room besides our own breathing. It feels...good, to have said these things to her. And to have said them without judgement, or interruption, or anger, or tears. I glance quickly her way before diverting my eyes forward again. Maybe if we can just be honest with each other, we can take back what I think we both so desperately want.
“I should go...” she speaks after a long while, noticing the clock over on the dresser, “you’re on early shifts this week.”
I look at the clock and see it’s already past one o’clock in the morning. It didn’t seem like we’d been sitting here for more than an hour. I make a sudden decision and speak, and I hope it’s not something either of us will come to regret.
“Why don’t you just stay?”
Her eyes snap up to mine, surprise evident even in the dim light.
“Just sleep here, it’s okay. I don’t want you driving home alone this late...and that way Sofia won’t wake up. You know how cranky she can be in the morning if she doesn’t get all her sleep. And she has clothes here.”
Callie chuckles a little, looking down at the tiny girl.
“Yeah, the cranky I am familiar with.”
I smile too, shifting myself up to sit on the edge of the bed.
“I’m just going to...ah...change and get this leg off though.”
Realization flashing across her face, Callie climbs up quickly, careful enough not to disturb the sleeping child, and heads for the door.
“Oh um, yeah...yeah of course, I’ll just head down to the couch. Thanks.”
“Callie.”
The other woman stops in her tracks and looks over, and I just shake my head with an amused smile.
“You don’t have to sleep on the couch. We’ll have Sofia as a buffer, we’re both exhausted, let’s just crash.”
After nodding slowly, she comes back around the other side of the bed, and I toss her an extra pair of pajama pants. We both turn our backs to each other like it’s some kind of high school sleepover, and I quickly change into pajama shorts and an old t-shirt, sighing in relief as I sit back down and ease my leg off. I prop it beside the nightstand and carefully shift under the covers beside Sofia - who is blissfully not even stirring. As I settle down though, she somehow instinctively shifts toward me and snuggles in close, her cheek coming to rest on my shoulder. I kiss the top of her head and wrap my arm around her happily, yawning as I feel Callie slip in the other side of the bed.
She looks over at us, and reaches out to smooth her hand down Sofia’s back, tugging the blanket up over herself a little more as she settles in. I know she’s purposefully keeping to the very edge of the bed, but I’m honestly too tired at this point to think too much about what’s happening right now. Between the overwhelming emotions of the last week - and the last hour - my body and mind are just beat. I reach over with my free arm and tug the cord on the lamp, plunging the room into darkness, and then with a light sigh, I finally let my eyes drift shut.
“Goodnight, Callie,” I murmur, nuzzling my daughter’s impossibly soft hair as I snuggle in even more.
“So what happens now, though?” she asks quietly, and I open my eyes to look over in her direction.
Truth is, I’m not really sure what happens now. But I feel like tonight was a turning point of sorts. And being here, with her...it feels right.
“Tomorrow...you ask me on a second date.”
There’s a long pause in the darkness but after several breaths I hear her voice, soft and filled with what I can only describe as genuine affection.
“Goodnight, Arizona.”
Pairing: Arizona/Callie
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sometimes we don't realize what we want until we just know. Takes place a day or two after the scene in 11x08. Timeline may not be perfectly canon.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Thank you to my readers! Your comments are all very appreciated :)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
I carry Sofia through the quiet house and up the stairs, heading to my bedroom at the end of the hall. The hallway is dark and quiet, and I know both Alex and Jo are on shift tonight - which I’m suddenly thankful for. Crossing the now-familiar bedroom, I flip on the bedside lamp and gently lay the sleeping girl in the middle of the bed, pulling the blankets over her. I just watch her for a moment as she shifts and settles in, her arms tightening around Dino, and I can’t stop myself from reaching down and softly running my palm along her cheek. She’s my beautiful girl. She looks so much like her mother sometimes it kills me.
“I’m glad she’s a heavy sleeper.”
Callie’s soft voice from the doorway interrupts my thoughts, and I look back at her with a small smile, straightening up.
“Guess she gets that from both of us, huh? Mark was a surprisingly delicate sleeper,” I laugh as I remember how he’d grumble and complain about Lexi’s every movement keeping him up some nights.
Her smile is a bit nostalgic for a moment, and she just nods.
“It’s true. Definitely from us.”
I shrug off my cardigan and toss it onto the back of the chair in the corner, and slip off my shoes, tiredly rubbing a spot on my hip. It was a long day on my feet today and I’m suddenly very aware of the slight throb in my left leg. The room has fallen silent, and I glance back over at Callie in the dim light.
“You can come in, you know. It’s alright.”
She bites her lip a little and hesitates, but then crosses the threshold into the room.
“I...wasn’t sure.”
I nod in understanding, carefully settling on the bed and sitting back against the headboard beside Sofia.
“It’s okay. Can we just sit upstairs? It’s been a long day.”
The brunette slips off her flats by the side of the bed and climbs up to sit on the other side of the child in the middle, pushing up the long sleeves of her t-shirt. She leans back against the headboard too, and turns her head to look at me, a swirl of emotions in her dark brown eyes.
“I just couldn’t wait. I wasted so much time not telling you anything, and it just all sort of hit me the last few days....I just needed you to know.”
I turn away, training my gaze on the wall opposite the bed, and just sit there quietly for a moment. Her speech from outside invades my mind again, and if it’s true...if she really meant all those things - my heart clenches painfully - does that mean we might actually end up together again? Does it mean we’re supposed to end up together? I want so badly to believe she’s being sincere, but I also don’t want to let myself get hurt again. I still love her so much...if I let her back in now, and then lose her again, I honestly don’t know if I could take it.
“Arizona?” she whispers, drawing my glance back to her briefly.
“I love you too, Callie,” I murmur and face forward again, my head resting back on the headboard, “I do, I never stopped. And I don’t know if you did, if you...fell out of love with me - but you should know that, too.”
“I nev-- ”
“Sh,” I shake my head, silencing her so I can speak, but also because I don’t think I can hear what she was about to say without bursting into tears, “We aired our dirty laundry when we were in therapy, I think we can both agree on that. We let it all out, we downright fought. But now...just listen, ok?”
Quiet falls over us again, and I can see her slight nod in my peripheral vision. Glancing down at our daughter, I smooth a hand over her blanket lightly, just watching the rise and fall of her chest.
“I want to be with you. But there are things I want...need...if that’s going to work. And I feel like we’ve talked and we’ve talked about these things before, so maybe we are just a lost cause like you said. But then you come here and tell me you still love me, and I can’t...I can’t not keep fighting for us. Never in my life have I wanted to fight for something so much, Callie.”
I nervously play with the edge of the blanket, carefully considering my next words. We’ve discussed the same things, the same problems, so many times now - we brought them out in therapy, we had a professional shove them in our faces to no avail. Yet somehow, something feels different about tonight. Maybe our relationship did need to be brutally, heartbreakingly ripped apart before we could reach this point.
“I want to be able to speak to you when something’s on my mind, without you interrupting. I don’t think you always mean to do it, but you do, and sometimes I just want to be able to say something and know that you actually hear it. Know that you actually care what I’m saying and feeling.”
I brush back baby-soft hair from Sofia’s face, feeling surprisingly calm now that I’ve started talking.
“And I want you to stop telling me how I feel. How I should feel. About my leg, about kids, about the miscarriage - I know we don’t always process things the same way, we never did - but I want you to stop telling me how you think I should deal with things. Because that hurts,” I glance up to find her watching me, an emotion I can’t quite read in her eyes, “and what I want...need...from a partner is for her to support me while I deal with things, big or small. Not to feel like I can’t come to her with my feelings because they don’t align with hers, or because she doesn’t want to see me that way.”
She swallows hard, and goes to speak before closing her mouth and cutting herself off silently. I just nod, appreciative that she actually seems to be listening, and run my hand back through my loose hair.
“I want you to actually be supportive. When this fellowship came up, you were immediately upset about it, Callie. Which I get - to a degree, I can understand where you were coming from. But at the same time, it was something huge for me, and you never even said congratulations. Not once.”
I turn my head to look at her now, and see the flicker of realization on her face.
“And that wasn't the first time you haven't, either. I love my career. I always have, and I always will. I want to do more than be a good surgeon, I want to be an amazing, successful, sought-after surgeon. But that doesn’t mean I can’t also have everything else, too.”
My hand is resting on Sofia’s side now, and I rub her small form lightly, almost unconsciously. It always comforts her...but in some ways, it comforts me, too.
“But there’s only time for so much...”
The words slip from Callie’s mouth in a whisper, as her eyes drop down to the child between us.
“You make time, Callie.”
I pause, shifting a little so I can comfortably face her while leaning my shoulder into the headboard.
“I want you to trust when I say I’ll make time. When I said I would always make time for us, and for Sofia. For another child - I meant it, Callie. I didn’t give up running my Peds department because I needed the time professionally, and I didn’t give it up for you either. I gave it up because I wanted the time to be a wife and a mother and to be with my family. I wanted that.”
She meets my eyes and holds them, studying me.
“You kept telling me I was going to resent you for making me give it up, that I didn’t really want to go through with the surrogacy. The reality was that I’ve changed over the last five years. I’m still an ambitious person - maybe to a fault - but my goals aren’t all professional anymore. And that’s because of you, yeah, but it’s a change I cherished, not resented.”
I stay silent for a few minutes, watching her brow furrow in thought as she drops her eyes. I can tell she’s itching to say something in response, but yet, she doesn’t. She just contemplates my words, and for once I feel like maybe something I say is finally sinking in.
“I want you to trust me, too.” I wait for her to look up again, and meet her eyes across the bed, “I don’t think you do. And maybe I don’t deserve it - maybe that’s the one thing I irreparably damaged between us - but I wish...I wish that you would. I want you to trust that I love you, and trust that I love our family. That I won’t hurt you intentionally.”
I turn away from her for a moment, steadying myself silently before I meet her eyes again.
“I still have dark days, Callie...days when it takes everything I have to pull myself out of bed and away from the nightmares and the pain, to just function at all. Days when I’m...not as nice a person as I want to be.”
Brown eyes swim with tears suddenly, and she takes an audible breath, trying to will them back.
“And I’ve accepted that those days might never go away, no matter how happy I am again. I want you to be able to understand that, and to trust that even on those days...it doesn’t change how I feel.”
I sit back again, looking up at the ceiling, my hand coming to rub at the dull ache in my left thigh. I wish I could make that part of me go away - I wish it with everything I have some days - but it’s who I am now. Sometimes it feels like there’s been so much loss in my life that I can’t handle it anymore, that it’s made me this horrible, bitter person. I’m terrified that it could come between us again someday.
“I understand that now.”
Her voice is low, and soft in the quietness of the room. Her tone is gentle, but in the way I used to love, not with patronising layers.
I turn to look at her again, and ask just as softly.
“Do you?”
She nods, keeping her eyes trained on my face.
“I do, Arizona. I...” she stumbles slightly over her words, but keeps the same, gentle tone in her voice, “there were so many dark days. So many. And I’ve come to realize that one of the biggest mistakes I made was taking them personally. Thinking that they meant you didn’t care about me, didn’t love me anymore. Or that you were punishing me. That you didn’t want me around.”
I swallow thickly, finding it hard to respond to that admission.
“Never for a minute did I not want you around.”
“And I’m sorry that’s how I reacted...I should have known better...”
At that I shake my head, interrupting the other woman firmly.
“No more apologies, Callie.”
Her brow furrows, and she looks at me with confusion written all over her face.
“What?”
“No more ‘I’m sorry’s,” I repeat, and I mean the words wholeheartedly, “We’ve each apologized for things we did, which we needed to - don’t get me wrong - but we can’t keep apologizing for the same things over and over.”
She considers my statement for a minute before nodding in agreement.
“You’re right.”
The bed between us shifts a little as Sofia rolls over and snuggles into the blanket more, giving off an adorable, innocent sigh. Both our gazes travel down to her, and as I watch her nose wrinkle and then relax back into a deep sleep, I’m just...overwhelmed with emotion.
“Can I say some things too?” Callie asks suddenly, breaking the silence that had settled between us. Her tone wasn’t demanding, or laced with annoyance; she spoke with a sincerity that I hadn’t heard from her in a long time.
And so I nod, still watching Sofia.
“Okay.”
“I want you to understand that I’m....I’m a person who always wants to help,” she shakes her head a little, “not help, but...I want to do things for you. I want to open doors, and carry things, and help you out of the tub or up off the floor after you’ve been playing with Sofia. I want to hold your hand when we walk, wrap my arm around your waist and let you lean into me. And it’s not because of your leg - it’s not because I think you can’t do them, because I know you can do all of these things yourself. It’s because I like doing them.”
I look at her as she speaks, surprised that that’s the first thing she’s bringing up. It hadn’t really occurred to me.
“And when you’ve had a long day, and I know your muscles are aching, I want to help you lessen that pain. I want to, not as your doctor but as...your partner. Who cares about you. I’ve always been this way, Arizona, and you know that. It’s just my nature to do everything I can for those I love. I want you to be able to accept that and to let me.”
I nod a little, understanding what she’s saying. After the crash...I felt like an invalid. And I was desperate that she wouldn’t see me as one too, so every offer of help, however innocuous, I perceived as something done out of pity. Because she had to. Because she thought I couldn’t handle it. In reality - it was true that she’d just always been that person.
“Give me your hand,” a strong arm reaches down toward the bathtub as I go to push myself out, and I laugh at her, smiling up at her face.
“It’s okay, it’s just been so comfy I don’t want to get out.”
She grasps my hand anyway from the side of the tub as I shift up, and gives a gentle, steadying tug to help me to my feet amidst the leftover bubbles. Leaning in to kiss me, she reaches back for one of the biggest, fluffiest towels I’ve ever seen outside of a hotel, and she holds it out for me to step into.
And I do, stepping carefully out of the water and letting her envelope me in both the towel and a warm embrace. Her lips press lightly against my bare shoulder, and she murmurs something in Spanish - the first time I’ve heard her speak it outside of ranting to her father.
“What did you say?” I tilt my head to see her, smiling.
One arm wraps more securely around me, almost possessively, and she tucks the towel into place with her free hand.
“You’re beautiful.”
“And I want you to tell me how you feel...” her voice interrupts my memory of that moment years ago, “how you feel about me.”
I meet her eyes again, watching something flicker through them.
“I have...”
“You did....but...you didn’t very often,” she looks at me almost nervously, but her voice carries no hint of judgement, “You told me you loved me, and you were always good at showing it - I knew you did. But you just...didn’t always say it often. Sometimes Mark used to tell me the things you’d say to him.”
She shakes her head a little and lets her gaze drop to the bed, almost uncharacteristically self-conscious from the woman I met years ago. It hits me suddenly that maybe I've done that to her, made her feel like she's something less -- and that thought makes me physically ache.
“That you told him I was beautiful, that you found me amazing. And it sounds selfish...I realize this maybe sounds egotistical coming out now...but I want to hear those things from you, Arizona. The things you feel about me, if you love me...I just want to hear it. I’m a person who needs to hear it.”
“Calliope...” her full name falls from my lips, barely audible. She’d brought it up during a teary therapy session, asked why I couldn’t have said all those things before about why I loved her, but I had assumed she just meant over the past six months we’d been having trouble. I hadn’t realized that it was bigger than that.
“I just, I like to hear it. You know? When I love someone I like to give my affections freely - and I know we’re different that way, I know you feel things and just don’t always say them, but that’s something that means a lot to me.”
I reach over instinctually, letting my fingers slide under her chin to tilt her eyes back up to mine. She meets them, surprised, and I let my touch linger just a moment.
“That’s something I could do. But Callie...please, please know that I always felt those things. If I didn’t say them, I always felt them.”
She gives me a small smile as my hand drops away.
“I know.”
We sit in a somewhat comfortable silence for awhile, both leaning back against the headboard once more, Sofia’s soft rustling the only sound in the room besides our own breathing. It feels...good, to have said these things to her. And to have said them without judgement, or interruption, or anger, or tears. I glance quickly her way before diverting my eyes forward again. Maybe if we can just be honest with each other, we can take back what I think we both so desperately want.
“I should go...” she speaks after a long while, noticing the clock over on the dresser, “you’re on early shifts this week.”
I look at the clock and see it’s already past one o’clock in the morning. It didn’t seem like we’d been sitting here for more than an hour. I make a sudden decision and speak, and I hope it’s not something either of us will come to regret.
“Why don’t you just stay?”
Her eyes snap up to mine, surprise evident even in the dim light.
“Just sleep here, it’s okay. I don’t want you driving home alone this late...and that way Sofia won’t wake up. You know how cranky she can be in the morning if she doesn’t get all her sleep. And she has clothes here.”
Callie chuckles a little, looking down at the tiny girl.
“Yeah, the cranky I am familiar with.”
I smile too, shifting myself up to sit on the edge of the bed.
“I’m just going to...ah...change and get this leg off though.”
Realization flashing across her face, Callie climbs up quickly, careful enough not to disturb the sleeping child, and heads for the door.
“Oh um, yeah...yeah of course, I’ll just head down to the couch. Thanks.”
“Callie.”
The other woman stops in her tracks and looks over, and I just shake my head with an amused smile.
“You don’t have to sleep on the couch. We’ll have Sofia as a buffer, we’re both exhausted, let’s just crash.”
After nodding slowly, she comes back around the other side of the bed, and I toss her an extra pair of pajama pants. We both turn our backs to each other like it’s some kind of high school sleepover, and I quickly change into pajama shorts and an old t-shirt, sighing in relief as I sit back down and ease my leg off. I prop it beside the nightstand and carefully shift under the covers beside Sofia - who is blissfully not even stirring. As I settle down though, she somehow instinctively shifts toward me and snuggles in close, her cheek coming to rest on my shoulder. I kiss the top of her head and wrap my arm around her happily, yawning as I feel Callie slip in the other side of the bed.
She looks over at us, and reaches out to smooth her hand down Sofia’s back, tugging the blanket up over herself a little more as she settles in. I know she’s purposefully keeping to the very edge of the bed, but I’m honestly too tired at this point to think too much about what’s happening right now. Between the overwhelming emotions of the last week - and the last hour - my body and mind are just beat. I reach over with my free arm and tug the cord on the lamp, plunging the room into darkness, and then with a light sigh, I finally let my eyes drift shut.
“Goodnight, Callie,” I murmur, nuzzling my daughter’s impossibly soft hair as I snuggle in even more.
“So what happens now, though?” she asks quietly, and I open my eyes to look over in her direction.
Truth is, I’m not really sure what happens now. But I feel like tonight was a turning point of sorts. And being here, with her...it feels right.
“Tomorrow...you ask me on a second date.”
There’s a long pause in the darkness but after several breaths I hear her voice, soft and filled with what I can only describe as genuine affection.
“Goodnight, Arizona.”