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odd-birds-and-booksellers · 3 years

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Writing advice #?: Have your characters wash the dishes while they talk.

This is one of my favorite tricks, picked up from E.M. Forester and filtered through my own domestic-homebody lens. Forester says that you should never ever tell us how a character feels; instead, show us what those emotions are doing to a character’s posture and tone and expression. This makes “I felt sadness” into “my shoulders hunched and I sighed heavily, staring at the ground as my eyes filled with tears.” Those emotions-as-motions are called objective correlatives. Honestly, fic writers have gotten the memo on objective correlatives, but sometimes struggle with how to use them.

Objective correlatives can quickly become a) repetitive or b) melodramatic. On the repetitive end, long scenes of dialogue can quickly turn into “he sighed” and “she nodded” so many times that he starts to feel like a window fan and she like a bobblehead. On the melodramatic end, a debate about where to eat dinner can start to feel like an episode of Jerry Springer because “he shrieked” while “she clenched her fists” and they both “ground their teeth.” If you leave the objective correlatives out entirely, then you have what’s known as “floating” dialogue — we get the words themselves but no idea how they’re being said, and feel completely disconnected from the scene. If you try to get meaning across by telling us the characters’ thoughts instead, this quickly drifts into purple prose.

Instead, have them wash the dishes while they talk.

To be clear: it doesn’t have to be dishes. They could be folding laundry or sweeping the floor or cooking a meal or making a bed or changing a lightbulb. The point is to engage your characters in some meaningless, everyday household task that does not directly relate to the subject of the conversation.

This trick gives you a whole wealth of objective correlatives. If your character is angry, then the way they scrub a bowl will be very different from how they’ll be scrubbing while happy. If your character is taking a moment to think, then they might splash suds around for a few seconds. A character who is not that invested in the conversation will be looking at the sink not paying much attention. A character moderately invested will be looking at the speaker while continuing to scrub a pot. If the character is suddenly very invested in the conversation, you can convey this by having them set the pot down entirely and give their full attention to the speaker.

A demonstration:

“I’m leaving,” Anastasia said.

“What?” Drizella continued dropping forks into the dishwasher.

“I’m leaving,” Anastasia said.

Drizella paused midway through slotting a fork into the dishwasher. “What?”

“I’m leaving,” Anastasia said.

Drizella laughed, not looking up from where she was arranging forks in the dishwasher. “What?”

“I’m leaving,” Anastasia said.

The forks slipped out of Drizella’s hand and clattered onto the floor of the dishwasher. “What?”

“I’m leaving,” Anastasia said.

“What?” Drizella shoved several forks into the dishwasher with unnecessary force, not seeming to notice when several bounced back out of the silverware rack.

See how cheaply and easily we can get across Drizella’s five different emotions about Anastasia leaving, all by telling the reader how she’s doing the dishes? And all the while no heads were nodded, no teeth were clenched.

The reason I recommend having it be one of these boring domestic chores instead of, say, scaling a building or picking a lock, is that chores add a sense of realism and are low-stakes enough not to be distracting. If you add a concurrent task that’s high-stakes, then potentially your readers are going to be so focused on the question of whether your characters will pick the lock in time that they don’t catch the dialogue. But no one’s going to be on the edge of their seat wondering whether Drizella’s going to have enough clean forks for tomorrow.

And chores are a cheap-n-easy way to add a lot of realism to your story. So much of the appeal of contemporary superhero stories comes from Spider-Man having to wash his costume in a Queens laundromat or Green Arrow cheating at darts, because those details are fun and interesting and make a story feel “real.” Actually ask the question of what dishes or clothing or furniture your character owns and how often that stuff gets washed. That’s how you avoid reality-breaking continuity errors like stating in Chapter 3 that all of your character’s worldly possessions fit in a single backpack and in Chapter 7 having your character find a pair of pants he forgot he owns. You don’t have to tell the reader what dishes your character owns (please don’t; it’s already bad enough when Tolkien does it) but you should ideally know for yourself.

Anyway: objective correlatives are your friends. They get emotion across, but for low-energy scenes can become repetitive and for high-energy scenes can become melodramatic. The solution is to give your characters something relatively mundane to do while the conversation is going on, and domestic chores are not a bad starting place.

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odd-birds-and-booksellers · 3 years

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True love survives arguments. Sometimes it even survives break-ups, so you have to live, and then you have to fight for him. Just hold on and fight. In which Jo calls Alex and he actually picks up.

“Alex, I need you to call me or so help me, I will fly to where you are and…”

Jo snaps, she'd been practicing her speech over and over in her head all day, she’d not even considered what she’d do if he actually answered. Which much to her surprise he had…it had taken her moment to even notice she wasn’t listening to the familiar sound of his voicemail but instead the sound of his steady breaths.

“You answered?” She mutters almost in disbelief as she pushes herself up off the couch, pacing around the loft. All she’d wanted all week was for him to answer and now he has the silence is deafening.

“I know you said you were going through something and that you needed time and I wanna give it to you I do, but I spent a lot of the last year pushing you away…”

“Jo…” she pauses as the sound of his voice comes over the line. She has to cover her mouth to stop herself from crying out, three weeks he’d been gone, three weeks of sitting by the phone, three weeks of not hearing his voice. Three weeks of conjuring up the worst possible scenario.

She takes a shaky breath, leaning against the cold window. She needs to get the rest of her speech out before she loses her nerve before she breaks down and begs him to come home. “I know it wasn’t my fault but I did, I pushed you away, but you held onto me then. You did, you held on and you refused to let me go or give up on me. You held on to me. So I’m holding on to you, I’m holding on for dear life.”

It’s quiet for a moment. So quiet she thinks he might have hung up but a quick glance down at her phone screen shows they’re still connected.

“It’s not that easy Jo.” He sounds tired, defeated maybe…either way, it turns her stomach.

“I love you.” She whispers, gripping the phone tighter in her hand. Her eyes watering as she hears his low sigh, like that was the last thing he wanted to hear. “Alex, I love you and whatever this is, whatever you’re going through I wanna go through it with you.”

They fall silent once more. Jo grips to her phone like she’s gripping onto him.

“I love you too.” Jo closes her eyes savoring his words. It should fill her with relief but she knows the but is coming. She thinks back through all her fears, all the scenarios that she’s conjured up these past few weeks. He loves her…he still loves her, so can it really ever be that bad?

“You do?”

“Always.” He confirms.

“Then talk to me, just talk to me. I’m right here.” There’s desperation in her voice as she pleads with him. “For better or worse….”

“What?”

“For better or worse.” They’ve promised it to each other more times than she can count at this point. On a ferry boat in June in front of all their friends. They whispered it against each other's bare skin late into the night. They’ve muttered it in passing on a busy workday when the world felt like it was caving in. He’d promised her it outside the facility the day she was released and he’d promised it to her again just over a month ago in the courthouse.

“Did you mean that?” Jo asks, she’s clutching the phone so tight now she’s sure it will break. She’s holding on for dear life. “If this is the worst, Alex I can handle it.” She lets out a shaky breath, as she tries to calm herself breathing in for a count of three. “I can handle it...I can handle whatever it is but I need you to tell me what's going on.”

Then nothing.

Silence.

Just their quiet breaths filtering through the line.

Jo can taste her salty tears as they slip down onto her lips then…

“I’m with Izzie.”

He’s so quiet she almost doesn’t hear him. Her mind takes a moment to grasp what Alex had just said.

Izzie

“I called her for Mers hearing and we got to talking…”

“She wasn’t on the list.” It’s the first thing she thinks of, all her worst-case scenarios coming true at once.

“What?”

Her legs feel like jelly, shaking too much to support her weight as she drops to the ground, leaning back against the couch, “She wasn’t on the list.”

“I didn’t put her on there.” He says it like it’s simple. Like it’s an obvious explanation for any of this. He sounds more confident now, his voice clear and concise like he’d practiced it. Maybe he had. Maybe it’s why he’d avoided answering her for so long, he just hadn’t figured out the right words to say.

“She had my kids Jo.” She couldn’t breathe. There wasn’t enough air in the room. “She had twins Eli and Alexis and they're here in Kansas.”

“You have kids?”

“I have kids. Twins. They’re five years old...say something, Jo, please.” He urges after a minute's silence.

She can’t though. She’s clawing at her chest desperately trying to remember all the stupid breathing techniques she’d learned. Trying to get to her happy place, her happy place that had him written all over it.

“I’m so sorry Jo.”

“Do you love her?” She manages through ragged breaths. She’s already on fire, might as well throw on the accelerator.

He hesitates. She hears his breath hitch like he can’t find the right words and then a quiet yes. Yes, he does love her.

“But not like that. Not like I love you.”

The words that had felt healing only moments ago hurt now, causing her heart to tear further into two, now they sound more like pity than hope.

“What does that mean?”

She hears a slight sniffle before he’s clearing his throat. “That I love you...but I can’t come home, I can’t leave them. Can you come here?” He sighs but Jo's mind is still whirling, her body still shaking. She can’t quite comprehend anything that he’s saying.

It’s like all she can see is a huge blinking sign that reads.

He’s with Izzie. He loves her. He has kids.

“You have kids.”

“Jo…”

“You have a family?”

“Daddy?” Jo can feel the gasp falling from her lips before she has a chance to stop it. He’s there now, he’s there with them while she’s sitting alone.

“You’re there now? You’re with them?”

She hears the phone muffle. Obviously, he’s covered the speaker but she can still hear him as he asks his children to go play, that he’d come and join them in a minute. He’s a dad. Something he’d wanted for such a long time. Something only weeks ago she’d been considering bringing up for them.

He understood her. It’s one of the reasons she loved him so much. Since Bailey’s wedding, they’d just had this uncanny ability to understand the other. Even if they didn’t agree with each other. They were cut from the same cloth.

Right now though that feels worlds away. Right now they feel like two pieces of different puzzles. She’s here and he’s there and he’s a parent and she’s not.

His voice breaks through the overwhelming thoughts clouding her brain. “Can you come here, Jo?”

“I can’t.”

It's a low whisper before she does the one thing she could never imagine herself doing before she pressed his contact tonight, she hangs up.

She lets him go to voicemail twice before the phone falls silent. She thinks he knows better than to press the issue, especially when all he’s done is ignore her calls for weeks. She needs time. Time to figure out what this all means.

It’s easier said than done. She manages to drag herself to work, detaching herself from everyone she knows, pushing through by focusing on her patients. He doesn’t call again. Weeks go by in silence. Jo falls into the same routine of working until she might drop, only dragging herself home when she’s so tired she's sure her brain won’t be able to torment her.

It’s only when she’s ransacking her wardrobe having neglected the growing laundry pile for too long that she finds them. Tucked into the back behind an old shoebox. Three tiny baby hats.

She clutched them carefully in her hands, trailing her finger along the detailing. They’re made with such love and care for babies she used to be able to picture so clearly. She doesn’t wanna give up that dream or Alex for that matter she's just not sure how to hold onto him.

For the first time in weeks, she finds herself staring down at her phone, her finger itching to hit call. She doesn’t though. She’s not sure what she’d say about this mess, still feeling too big to wade through alone.

The second time she’s overwhelmed with the need to call Alex comes only days later. She’s just finished discussing surgery options with a new patient when she spots him. He recognizes her immediately, his face lighting up.

“Dr. Wilson…it’s so nice to see you again.”

It’s Charlie Peterson. The heart transplant kid from years ago. He’s older now obviously, he looks healthy and it gives Jo a warm feeling to know she was a little part of that. She so rarely gets to see her patients again.

“Charlie…it’s good to see you. Or I hope it is…are you here for treatment?”

“Just a check-in with Dr. Pierce.” Jo nods offering a soft smile before turning her attention down to her phone. She has to run, she has surgery in a little bit. Sensing their conversation is almost over she watches as Charlie sways back on his feet almost nervously. “Dr. Wilson…there’s something…there’s something I wanted to say. Wanted to thank you for really. It’s something you said to me when I got my transplant.” Jo doesn’t say anything, she can vaguely remember talking to him. She knows it was the day she’d propose to Alex. “You said I had to promise to survive, that true love survived fights and breakups. You said you have to live, and then you have to fight and it always stuck with me you know. So just thankyou.”

Jos' speechless. She’d remember it now, her and Alex arguing. He was so sure she was leaving him that he’d spent the night away from home. Her heart had felt heavy as she returned home that night to an empty loft, it felt cold without him much like it did now. She’d hated it so much she’d refused to let that be her permanent reality. She’d fought for him back then. She got down on her knees and told him she wanted him forever. Where had that gone? Where was her gumption? That need to fight for him?

She wishes Charlie well before excusing herself for surgery but her mind is miles away. It might as well be in Kansas because that’s where her heart is. It's where she should be too.

She’s not sure what happens next. She’s not sure how Izzie and the twins fit or how she fits with them. But she knows how she fits with Alex. She knows that nothing has ever felt that scary when he’s been standing there beside her and if she can just get to him she’s sure they can work this all out.

She scans her phone buying the plane ticket out to Kansas without a second glance. Reading the confirmation email she feels at peace for the first time since Alex had walked out that door. The kinda peace that only came from knowing where your heart truly lied. Tomorrow she’d get to see Alex and no matter how bad or how scary everything else around them was, he’d be there to hold her hand. All she had to do was hope he still wanted to.

Tomorrow she'd be with Alex. Her first love. Her last, her only. He was all of it. He was her everything.

It’s late when she arrives back at the loft, so late she doesn't even notice how the lights are already on as she climbs the steps. It’s only when she spots a familiar pair of boots lined up by the door that she realizes the change. The air seems warmer. Looking up abruptly she spots him standing across the room, leaning against the kitchen island like he’d been waiting for her.

“You came home?” She mutters in disbelief, her keys clattering to the ground as she takes him in. He’d let his beard grow, which makes sense considering she’d been crying at the sight of his razor for weeks. He looks tired though, with deep bags under his eyes.

He nods, taking quick strides until he’s standing before her. She could reach out and touch him if she wanted. She watches his own hands twitch with the same urge. Like he too wanted to confirm she was real and standing in front of him. “I came home.”

Suddenly Jo bursts out laughing. Her hand reaching up to cover her mouth as she tries to keep her giggles at bay. Alex's eyebrows drop in confusion as he eyes her carefully. “I booked a flight.” She admits through uneven breaths.

“What?”

“I booked a flight for tomorrow morning. I was gonna come find you.” She laughs again, finding it overwhelmingly amusing that on the day she’d decided to go find him, he’d come home.

Alex frowns but nods as if he has an understanding of what she’s laughing about. “Jo look…”

“Do you still want me?” She asks abruptly. It’s the only question she has. She can deal with the twins and Izzie and Kansas, she can deal with it all as long as he still wants her.

“What kind of question is that?” Alex settles his hands on her waist, the heat of his palms seeping through her. “Of course I want you. I always want you.”

“Then we’ll figure it out.”

And they do figure it out. They head back to Kansas together the next morning, Alex’s hand clutched tightly in her own. Jo’s nervous and scared and a whole other host of emotions but those feelings soon fade when they step out of the rented car. Alex’s face lights up as two five-year-olds come barreling down the front steps, skidding to a halt in front of her. Their eyes are wide and hesitant as they say a reluctant hello. Jo is struck with the love that flows through her as soon as she sees them, no they’re not her’s but they are his. Little pieces of the man she loves so dearly. She can see parts of him so clearly, he’s in Eli’s lopsided grin and Alexis’s eyes. They’re a part of him; it's impossible not to love them.

She lets Alexis guide her up into the house, accepting a cup of coffee from Izzie who seems genuinely pleased that she's there and they sit for the rest of the afternoon playing tea party. Jo mainly spends the day watching Alex who seems more himself then she’s ever seen him before as he chases the two around.

Later that evening Izzie finds her on the porch swing. Jo feels her stomach turning at what she’s about to say, but she is surprised when Izzie apologizes. She apologizes for keeping the twins a secret, for not calling Alex sooner, and then she apologises the way she’s sure she’s uprooted Jo's life. The funny thing is it doesn't feel uprooted at all. It’s only day one but nothing has been as bad as Jo had made it out to be in her head. The day had flown by in an unexpected bliss, Alex had been the husband she knew, constantly touching base making sure she was okay, a reassuring hand squeeze or a mouthed I love you across the dining table. He needn’t bother though, she was more than okay.

“Do you think she can hear me?” Alexis shouts, making Jo startle out of her daydream. They’d been in Kansas almost a year now. It’s not a picnic by any means but it’s definitely worth it. They’re a family, a real proper family. It’s not just her and Alex and their friends anymore and Jo loves it, every messy second of it. She’d cried when the twins had shown up at their house the day after Mother’s Day with a card that read ‘Not all stepmothers are wicked’ and a bunch of flowers that Izzie had let them pick from her garden. Her life is so far from what she’d imagined it to be after she’d called Alex a year ago. Back then she could never see herself leaving Grey Sloan Memorial or even Seattle but they had and it was better than whatever life they ever had planned.

“What about now?” Alexis yells again, pressing her chin into Jo’s stomach as she looks up at Jo expectantly.

Jo just laughs, their poor baby would probably be deaf by the time she was born. “She can definitely hear you and by the time she joins us she’ll know the sound of your voice.” She runs a hand through Alexis' hair softly as the girl settles her ear against Jo's stomach.

“Can she hear me?” Eli yells suddenly, crashing down on top of his sister as they fight for a place on Jo's stomach. “I want her to hear me.” He cries, making Jo and Alex chuckle as he places his ear against her bump expecting his new sister to talk back.

“Everyone can hear you, ya little monster,” Alex growls, lifting the boy up off the picnic blanket they’d laid out, making him squeal in delight as he tips him upside down, one hand tickling his side.

“Ooo she definitely heard you,” Jo winces, feeling a sharp kick to the ribs. “Here guys come to feel her.” She takes Alexis's outstretched hand moving it about as she traces her daughter's kicks across her stomach until she seems to settle in one spot. She watches Lexs face light up in pure delight, her mouth falling open in wonder.

“Can you feel her Lex?” Alex grins taking the seat beside Jo, placing his warm hand against her bump just slightly to the side of Alexis’s.

“Yeah…yeah, I can feel her,” She nods excitedly.

“Hey, I wanna feel her too…” Eli pouts, crossing his arms over his chest as that famous Karev scowl crosses his face.

Jo shakes her head, reaching her arm around Alex and holding it out towards him. “Come over here then bud,”

They all fall silent for a moment, a very rare moment for the Karevs. The happiness seems to radiate out between them all as they feel the little movements of their newest edition.

The warm sunny day sends a golden filter over the image before her. Alex’s lopsided grin, his hand stretched out across her belly, two smaller hands pressed either side. Eli’s tucked under her arm while Alexis lays across her lap. She knows this perfect moment won't last so she takes extra care to commit it to memory while it happens.

As predicted the moment is broken, the sound of the ice cream truck drawing the children’s attention as they go racing across the grass in a flash and they both know Alex has about ten seconds before he has to go catch up to them. He takes the time to press a chaste kiss to her lips before he goes. Soft and sweet and way too short for her liking.

“Thanks for holding on to me.” He whispers against her lips when he pulls back, shooting her a wink before he’s off and running in the direction of the twins.

“Always.”

She calls back, laughing when he almost trips over as he turns back to grin at her. Jo runs her hand across her bump lovingly, thinking back to how only a year ago she was ready to give up this dream of a life completely. She’s glad she didn't.

#alex karev #jolex #jo wilson #jo karev #greys anatomy #greys abc #justin chambers #greysanatony #greys #camilla luddington #Jolex oneshot #Jolex fanfic #Jolex fanfiction #tsjolexweek

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odd-birds-and-booksellers · 3 years

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dying is actually one of my favourite hobbies just not from preventable diseases

why do you and others like vaccines so much?

not dying of preventable diseases is actually one of my favorite hobbies

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odd-birds-and-booksellers · 3 years

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Send me a ship + a sentence and I’ll write the next 5 (or more) sentences.

#jolex #other ships?#alex karev #jo wilson

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odd-birds-and-booksellers · 3 years

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trope : enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers to DEAD BODIES

I AM SORRY ENEMIES TO LOVERS TO WHAT

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odd-birds-and-booksellers · 3 years

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I have not recovered since seeing this, so I’m going to pass it on to all of you.

Enjoy.

#mind empty #holy fucking Spencer Reid #criminal minds #king knight #Matthew gray gubler

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odd-birds-and-booksellers · 3 years

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TIM BRADFORD AND LUCY CHEN IN THE ROOKIE SEASON 4 TRAILER

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odd-birds-and-booksellers · 3 years

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Abortion is safe and normal, and should always be legal and accessible.

Today, Argentina may become the largest Latin American country to legalize abortion!

We know that people will seek abortion care whether it’s legal or not. Ultimately, people should have the ability to exercise their right to bodily autonomy without fear of prosecution or criminalization.

Art by Liberal Jane

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odd-birds-and-booksellers · 3 years

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He tried not to stare, his hands sweating the second their eyes met. She offers him nothing more than a polite nod as he splutters an awkward hello before she turns her attention to someone else. That’s it. No earth-shattering moment. His heart still firmly beating in his chest, it hasn’t been ripped out and left in tatters as he’d imagined it would be the second he laid eyes on her.

Did he know he was leaving? Did he know it was the last time they’d be together? Did he take her favourite shirt hoping it would be enough? Did he watch her sleep that last night just memorising every detail of her face, committing her beauty to memory one last time knowing deep in his gut he’d never hold her again? Yes deep in his gut he’d known he was never coming home, he’d known his home was firmly in the little hands of his children. He’d known that he was tearing his own heart in two to give them everything he’d never had and he’d done it willingly so he had no one else but himself to blame for the ache that now lived permanently within him. The sort of ache that only came from losing the other half of you and watching them become whole with another.

Nothing makes it easier. Nothing stops the ache, it doesn’t fade with time he just learns to live with it. He sees her all the time, she’s there in the grocery store or passing through the hospital, or down the street near the dog park, and even outside the kid's school. All the places he knows she’s not he sees her. Wisps of brown hair that for a single second feel so familiar, before the bubble bursts, his eyes readjust and he sees the subtle ways the woman that’s caught his eye isn’t her. So when he does finally see her it doesn't even seem real.

The wedding is beautiful if nothing else. The backyard lit up with string lights, mismatched chairs surrounding the makeshift dance floor where everyone was gathered to watch the first dance. The air is warm and the laughter is loud, a rare moment where everyone seems genuinely happy.

He hangs back for most of the day, he’d promised to be there to stand by his friend's side, a promise he’s happy to keep but it doesn't make it any easier. He’d seen the surprised looks and heard the hushed whispers as the guests had arrived. He can’t help but feel out of place, he’d fought so hard to make this place his home, now he felt like he was a piece of the wrong puzzle trying to make himself fit.

He felt the air cool the minute she’d arrived, filtering in with a group from the hospital. He tried not to stare, his hands sweating the second their eyes met. She offers him nothing more than a polite nod as he splutters an awkward hello before she turns her attention to someone else.

That’s it. No earth-shattering moment. His heart still firmly beating in his chest, it hasn’t been ripped out and left in tatters as he’d imagined it would be the second he laid eyes on her.

She was here. He could reach out and wrap an arm around her, remember what it feels like to hold her if he wanted to. He won’t. But the knowledge that he could have is enough to fill him with a kind of warmth he hasn’t felt for years.

He tries to focus on his friend's joy as the ceremony starts. Forcing himself to keep his eyes trained ahead and not on the brunette a few rows back. He listens carefully as they make their promises, promising for better or for worse, till death do they part and all that other jazz. He tries to stay present, tries so hard to keep the memories that are flooding his mind at bay. His mind betrays him of course, her smiling face shining bright in his memory, the wind flowing through her hair, the way her hands had trembled in his as they promised forever, and her smile so infectious in the sunlight. He remembers feeling so happy in that moment that it overwhelmed him, just the sight of her smile as she’d said I do. A kind of happiness he’d never expected to feel in his life, the type he hadn’t thought was possible until he felt it. He hopes that’s how they feel now standing up at the altar, he hopes they hold onto that happiness always because like everything in life it doesn’t last.

As the ceremony ends she gets lost in the chaos and he doesn’t see her again until after the speeches, she’s let her hair down now and it flows down in waves to her shoulders framing her face. She’s standing beside Link, laughing away at something he’s said. He considers going over there, maybe they could talk. Maybe they could make polite small talk, or maybe she’d be happy to see him and they’d spend the night talking into the early hours like they had back when they’d first met. He knows it’s more likely she’d not want anything to do with him, that he’d end up upsetting her, hurting her even more, and ruining what is meant to be a happy day. So he busies himself talking to past friends that he really has missed and chased after the kids that are more grumpy, almost teenagers these days. He finds himself drawn to her whether she is, he follows her around the room, at one point he almost drops his drink when her laugh erupts from somewhere behind him, sweet and carefree and he swears it’s infectious. His lips curl up without warning as he shuffles his feet away from the crowd, content to step back and watch the festivities.

His behaviour goes unnoticed by everyone but the bride of course. She’s the first one to find him when he slips away from the party, guiding him to the quiet of the front porch.

“Thank you for coming today.” She whispers, leaning against the wall beside him. “It means a lot that you’re here Alex.”

“Anytime.” A soft smile graces his face as he leans forward pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. He means it, anytime no matter what, she’s family, their bond is buried deep. Their history is too entangled for him to ever be able to say a proper goodbye.

They sit in silence for a moment. Never the type of friends that needed many words. She knows, of course, she knows, it’s written all over her face when her new husband comes to find her, ushering her back to the party.

“She’s okay…really she’s happy.” Mer whispers, squeezing his hand one time before slipping back into the house. He sighs, he still needs a breather as he takes a seat down on the front steps. The same space he’d found her all those years ago. He remembers the feeling of seeing her usually perfect porcelain skin mottled with purple bruises. At that moment he’d realised whatever he’d thought he’d felt for her run much deeper than that. At that moment he’d realised his heart resided firmly outside his chest, it still probably does. If he had to be really honest he thinks she might always have his heart. He doesn’t even want it back. Happy for it to always be hers even he himself can no longer be.

He checks his watch. He could probably go now, he’d stayed long enough to be deemed acceptable but there is something that twists deep in his gut like he can’t leave without seeing her again. Just one more glance, it would never be enough, but damn he could try and make it. So he turns back towards the house, making his way through to the garden where everyone seems to be dancing it out like there’s no tomorrow and he shakes his head at the family he’s missed so dearly as he settles against the door frame.

He finds her without really trying, he’s just drawn to her. He takes a deep breath letting the image of her settle in his bones. He watches as she looks up, turning her attention to someone across the table she’s sat at and she smiles, not at him…she hadn’t even looked his way since she’d arrived and he knows because his gaze has never left her for longer than a few seconds. After all this time he watches her smile, and he smiles too. His lips curled up involuntarily at the joy radiating from her face.

A happy ending suits her. It’s how he wants to always remember her. He once had thought he could be that for her but he’s so glad she found this new one. She’s tucked against some guy's side, as she runs a reassuring hand down his back the same way she used to for him. The ending they’d planned together. The house, the kids, the smiles. It’s still her ending…and knowing that is enough. Knowing that is everything to him.

There’s a commotion as the kids take the dance floor for some planned routine and her gaze searches the room until she stumbles across his. He gives her a short nod as their eyes meet ignoring the way his body burns with the urge to cross the garden, close the gap between them, take it all back and beg for another chance. He doesn’t of course, their story is over, she has a new one and so does he. She offers him a friendly smile, it’s brief, barely a second but it’s a second that holds a lifetime. As quick as it came it went, her attention being called elsewhere as a little girl no older than five grabs hold of her hand dragging her towards the dance floor.

He hears the little one call for her mother. His eyes closed involuntarily like the sight was too much. And for the briefest second, he allows himself to imagine what it would be like to be standing there with them. It’s a cruel game, one that will only hurt more than it does heal. He shakes it off, standing up straighter as he seeks her out once more. She was okay...she was more than okay.

Her dress flows out around her as she spins around copying her daughter who squeals in delight as her own dress puffs out around her. It reminds him of the one she’d worn when she’d proposed except it’s lighter. She’s lighter, happier, even more, radiant than she was back then. Maybe he’s done that thing where his memory of her all these years had not been doing her justice or maybe she truly is just happier now.

He glances at his watch. He has to go. No time to debate what to say if he could. He has a life to get back to and she has one here. One more glance, one more second to take her in. When he’d left he’d left knowing he may never see her again, that he’d go his whole life without ever seeing that smile, and honestly he thought that would be okay. He thought that it would be easier that way.

He was wrong, watching her now he knows it, he was always gonna wanna see her, be in her orbit, he knows it’s not a possibility but he’ll take what he can get. Even if what he can get is shy glances across a makeshift dance floor. His phone buzzes, the car is waiting. Slowly he pushes off the doorframe, taking one last look around at the happy faces scattering the dance floor. There’s no empty gap of where he once was. Life has moved on.

When he finds her again he is surprised to find her eyes already on him. Like she knows he’s leaving this time. The same warm brown that he’d fallen for in that supply closet so many years ago bore into him. She doesn’t make any attempt to move but she offers him another warm smile, a genuine one this time. Then she’s gone, he faintly hears her being called away by her daughter and the spell is broken. He slips away from the party without another glance.

Maybe their paths never cross again and maybe that’ll be okay, she’s happy and loved and everything she deserves to be. So if he never gets to lay eyes on her again the memory of her spinning her daughter around the dance floor will be enough. But he hopes to god they do, even if all they get is another almost moment. Even if for the rest of their lives they only get brief glances and polite smiles he wants it…wants her…always.

He wants their story to end the way it began. Strangers stealing glances at each other across the operating table, over beers on the couch, at a friend's wedding…wherever and whenever they can. They were back to the beginning, strangers but this time with the memories filled with love, and quite strangely he’s okay with that. That in itself feels like a happy ending because they really are living happily ever after…just not together.

He’d abandoned their story, he’d ripped the pages out so quick he’d given her whiplash. He’d scrawled out THE END in the form of his name and that was it. But he stands here now a wiser man, watching her light up like he’d never seen before and he knows he made the right choice. Sometimes it’s hard to turn the page when you know someone won’t be in the next chapter, but the story must go on, so he slips away without a word and leaves the rest of their story blank.

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