Chapter Text
Still Can’t Tell if We Both Mean Well
Shit. Shit. He screwed up. Oh, he didn’t just screw up, he really fucked this up. The thought had been going through Connor’s mind since he pulled away from Sarah’s lips. A wide-eyed Sarah who by the way, was staring back at him. Connor felt his mouth open to say something… anything . Anything to get that deer-in-headlights look off of her face (though he didn’t know it, it wasn’t like he any better) Maybe something charming? Flirty? The look from Sarah’s face morphed into one that Connor wasn’t sure he liked. It looked like the time she was lost about a patient only more… morose ?
“Sarah?” He questioned. Those brown eyes-the ones that he quickly learned he was immune to-met his. But see here lay a problem. What was he supposed to say? Because all Connor couldn’t think about was how soft his wife’s lips were or…
Someone bumped into them and apologized (Right they were in the middle of a gym, slow dancing with Sarah’s former classmates around them because they were at her class reunion) breaking whatever spell was on them.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” his wife told him abruptly and before he could even say anything, she had darted off in the direction of the gymnasium doors. But Connor let her hand slip easily from his grasp as he shuffled off the dance floor too because he didn’t know what he should say to her. Hell, he didn’t even know how to describe the feelings he had for her. (How does one tell their platonic wife that they were in love with them? Connor’s asking for a friend.)
Because he had been married to her for the last six months and every day, he could feel himself fall a little bit more in love with Sarah, no matter how cliche it sounded. Hell, by month three he had stopped referring to her as his platonic wife, and in-between months five and six, he had subdued his urge to kiss her lips by kissing her forehead or hair throughout the day. The kiss they just shared had completely blown that though because now he knew what Sarah’s lips tasted like, how soft they were…
“You okay?” Connor asked when Sarah came back ten minutes later and sat down beside him. She nodded. But after living with her for the last six months, he could tell that wasn’t the truth. She was sitting too rigid and as far away in her chair as she could get. (Did he make her uncomfortable with the kiss? Maybe she didn’t like him like that. After all, she kept correcting him when he called her his wife and he asked what would happen if he met someone. Had she?) However, Connor couldn’t press her about it with where they were at the moment. He sighed inwardly; he would have to wait until they got back to the hotel. In the meantime though, Connor grabbed Sarah’s hand and squeezed it gently.
“Do you want to get out of here? I’m kind of tired.” Sarah said quietly to him an hour later, in the middle of a tedious conversation with Marnie Pipper and her husband. Nodding, he used the excuse that they had an early flight in the morning. (They didn’t need to know it was a little white lie) Then he helped Sarah out of her seat and wrapped his suit jacket around her frame. (Ever the doting husband) Pressing a hand against the small of her back, he guided her out of the school where she hailed them a cab to the hotel. The ride back was quiet. They couldn’t really talk with the driver in the front, so Connor kept quiet with his arm around Sarah’s shoulder. His thumb kept rubbing small circles into her shoulder.
Once the taxi pulled to a stop, his wife jumped out as if the seat was on fire. He quickly paid, ignoring the way the driver chuckled, “Got some groveling to do, don’t you son?”
Then he got out, slamming the door behind him as he followed after her. Sarah stormed into the hotel room, ignoring Connor’s calls for her to wait.
“Sarah, Sarah, stop.” When Connor finally made it to their room to see her pacing; he caught her arm and swung him around to face him. “Sarah, we need to talk about what happened.”
“Why did we-” Sarah had that morose look on her face again as started to say something, but he shook his head. “No, let me talk first, okay? It’s important.”
Brown eyes met his apprehensively before Sarah inclined her head. He sighed in relief. Leaning slightly into her, he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead (Just like he thought, it wasn’t the same)
“We did all of this out of order,” He told her, stepping even more into her personal space, he wrapped Sarah’s arms around his neck again. His wife looked adorably confused as he grabbed her waist and it was like they were dancing again. While the former trauma surgeon couldn’t rewrite the past, he was determined to get as close as he could. Starting with everything that should’ve been said on that dance floor before they kissed. He started to sway slowly.
“You’re supposed to meet someone, become friends. Then fall in love and then get married. Do you know what Downey said to me before he died? Uncomplicate it, he was referring to our marriage. I didn’t do that though. Instead, I fucked it up.”
“I wanted to kiss you for a while now.” He admitted softly. Her face grew even more confused as she blinked at him, “What? Why?”
“Because I want you to wear your ring all the time. I want to wear my ring all the time. I don’t want to have separate bedrooms. I want you to take my last name for real. We can hyphenate it if you want. So you can be Dr. Reese at the hospital. Or you can be Dr. Rhodes too and we can confuse everyone at the hospital.”
“Connor, what are you talking about?”
“These past six months, I’ve fallen in love with you. So I want you to be my wife and not just in a platonic sense of the word, but in every sense of the word. I want it all with you. I’ve wanted it a while to be honest. That is if you feel the same way.”
“But what about Robin?” She asked. Confusion clouded Connor’s features as he processed her words. “Doctor Charles’ daughter? What about her?”
“She likes you. She asked me two weeks ago if we were together because she didn’t want to step on any toes.”
“What did you tell her?” Besides Dr. Charles and Mrs. Goodwin, no one knew they were married yet. Everyone else just thought they had grown close over the last year. His best friend shrugged, “You said we’d cross that bridge when we came to it. So I told her a version of the truth-we were best friends and roommates- because I’m in love with you and I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me.”
Connor felt his heart flutter and swoop. She loved him. Sarah was in love with him.
“You make me happy,” Connor told her earnestly, pulling her closer so there was no space between them. Now Sarah laughed softly and leaned her head against his shoulder.
“We’re idiots.” She declared and Connor nodded. His head now falling against Sarah’s forehead. When he spoke, his lips were ghosting over hers. “We are. But what is talking anyway?”
“Communication skills for grownups.” Sarah’s sarcastic reply made him snort.
“I’ll show you communication skills for grownups,” he told her before he leaned in and captured her lips for the second time that night. His lips moved slowly against hers because he wanted to savor the moment. Then slowly, ever so slowly he felt her mouth respond hesitantly against his. He felt her arms come up and then her hands were in his hair as she pulled him closer. Groaning, he moved to deepen the kiss.
Because he could. He could finally kiss his wife. His wife. His non-platonic wife. Damn, that felt good to say.