Archive of Our Own

Got Love Struck, Went Straight To My Head

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“I think I’ve loved you since I met you. I just mistook it for curiosity.”

Alice Oseman, “Solitaire” 

The first time he meets her, his mouth is covered in pink frosting and she’s wearing a styrofoam Statue of Liberty crown and it’s not love at first sight. ( it’s not).  

He half listens to her conversation with Abby while he eats a cupcake and watches Neela, curious about her. He’d caught a glimpse of her at the hospital before, it had been his first day at county. He hadn’t really looked at her then, too busy with the newness of it all and trying to acclimate to a new environment.

But now… he finds himself strangely drawn to her, to her dark eyes and her despondent countenance.

He catches her saying something about the JumboMart being the only place she could get a job and he finds himself making a quip about being close to the hospital and Abby elbows him. He doesn’t know where it comes from, it won’t be the last time he feels the need to pull her proverbial pigtails or to get her attention. There’s something about her that brings it out in him.

At that moment, he is completely unaware of what she’s going to become to him. Just how much she’s going to change his life, and maybe if he did know he would go running far, far away from her.

.

When they move in together, he’s not looking for a best friend, or a girlfriend, or anything of the sort. He has friends and he has no trouble getting dates. He is under the impression that they’ll be living opposite lives and he’s just helping out a co-worker in need. Plus, he needs someone to help him pay the rent and she seems like the best option. At the very least he can be sure that she won’t rob him or kill him in his sleep, and she’ll probably have better hygiene than anyone he could scrounge up on Craig’s List.

.

He’s not expecting much of a Christmas after he misses his flight to Florida. He lets himself into the apartment and drops his bag on the floor. Neela’s kneeling in front of the coffee table, decorating a tabletop tree while the one Christmas album he owns ( The Nat King Cole Christmas Album ) plays on the CD player.

She smirks when she sees him and Ray remembers that he needs to get her back for the snowball earlier. But he’ll do it later, maybe when she’s not expecting it. He has to figure something out, he’s fresh out of ideas.

“Wanna help?” she asks in way of greeting. 

“Where did you find all of this on short notice?” he asks as he goes over to her and bends down, taking a half-wrapped ornament out of the ragged cardboard box.

“Abby gave it to me,” Neela replies. “Since you didn’t get to go to Florida, I thought maybe we could have a half-Christmas here.”

“We’re kissing and making up then?” Ray asks, unable to resist. 

Neela rolls her eyes and pushes a stray piece of hair away from her face. “We’re just making up. Save the kissing for someone else,” she answers.

Fleetingly, Ray thinks he wouldn’t mind kissing her, then shakes his head. He wonders where on earth that came from and pulls the tissue paper off the ornament he’s holding, revealing an old snapshot of Abby as a child and someone he’s never seen before, a little boy framed in popsicle sticks.

He shows it to Neela. “Any idea who this is?” 

“Her brother Eric, I assume.” Neela puts a candy cane made out of shiny red and white pipe cleaners.

“Do you think it would be weird to put it on the tree since neither of us is related to them?”

“There’s a lot of weird things about this Christmas,” Neela answers. “Spending it with you for instance.”

“Well, it’s not exactly how I was planning on spending Christmas either!” Ray shoots back, thinking about how he’s missing out on sunshine and the ocean. 

“Maybe if you’re lucky, you can make it to Florida to celebrate the New Year,” Neela replies. 

“Can’t, I’m on the schedule for next week.” Ray puts the picture of Abby and his brother on the tree.

“Shame.”

Ray doesn’t think that Neela really thinks it’s a shame, but he doesn’t say so. “This is probably the most bizarre Christmas tree I’ve ever seen in my life,” he says instead, thinking about the tree his mom had probably put up the day after Thanksgiving, all matching with gold and white ornaments, nothing from a craft store to be seen.

“It’s the first time I’ve ever decorated one,” Neela replies defensively.

“I didn’t mean…” Ray trails off, sighing. “Christmas at home isn’t like this, is all I meant. My mom perfectly coordinated everything, down to the wrapping paper and ornaments from Dillards.”

“Dillards?” Neela repeats, looking at him like he’s speaking a different language.

“It’s an expensive southern department store,” Ray explains off-handedly.

“I’m sorry… expensive ?” Neela looks confused.

She’s too polite to ask if he’s wealthy even though he knows she wants to. 

“We’re not like Carter rich. But I do come from money,” Ray explains, it’s the first time he’s told anyone in Chicago about his deep dark secret. “I actually don’t think I ever decorated a tree either. My mom always had someone do it for us.”

“Well that makes a lot of sense,” Neela says after a beat.

“What?” Ray asks. 

“Just… all of it,” Neela answers, still hanging ornaments on the artificial branches. 

For the first time, Ray realizes they’re hanging out and he kind of likes it, and he likes how she looks in the multicolored Christmas lights, exhausted but resplendent in plaid flannel pajama bottoms and a frayed gray sweatshirt. He’s suddenly filled with an absolute longing to be her friend.

He can’t remember the last time he was just friends with a girl, it was probably somewhere between middle and high school. Being Neela’s friend seems so far out of the realm of possibility. Sometimes they can barely tolerate each other.

He takes another ornament out, a train with a chipped caboose and ‘Eric ’ printed on it in gold script. 

Absolutely bizarre , he thinks to himself as he puts it on the tree.

Never in his whole life could he have ever pictured himself in a dingy little apartment, celebrating Christmas with someone he didn’t know very well. With someone who didn’t celebrate the holidays at all, he was pretty sure, but here he was. 

They finish decorating the tree and go to bed without saying much to each other. The next day, he gets up and makes them both breakfast. They don’t have gifts to give each other and for some reason, he feels bad about it. But they watch A Christmas Story twice and order Chinese food, and he thinks it’s the best Christmas he’s ever had, except for the one when he got his first guitar.

(But then there’s the Christmas they spend together a few years later, their first as a couple where she wakes him up with enthusiastic kisses and they open gifts in front of the tree they put up the day after Thanksgiving. The train with Eric’s name on it winks at them from its place of honor. Later on, they go to visit his mother and new stepfather. That by far surpasses that Christmas by a mile even though he’s fond of those early days in that apartment.)

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One night he comes home from a late shift and she’s standing barefoot in the kitchen, scooping coffee ice cream into his favorite coffee mug and singing along off-key to a Beach Boys song. She stopped periodically to sing into the ice cream scoop like a microphone. She closes her eyes briefly, swirling and twirling to the music and he drops his bag quietly, wanting to get closer to her. He gets close enough for her to whirl right into him, her eyes fly open and she drops the scoop on the floor.

“Whoah,” Ray says, steadying her. “Careful there Neela.”

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” Neela says grabbing a wad of napkins and bending down to clean up the ice cream she spilled on the floor.

“Let me,” Ray replies trying to snatch the napkins from her, feeling uncharacteristically chivalrous. “It was my fault anyway, I was in your way.”

Their heads bump because she’s still trying to help him and when he looks at her, he thinks he can literally see stars.

“Oh sorry,” Neela repeats, rubbing her head ruefully as she crouches back on her heels and looks at him carefully before reaching out to touch his forehead to make sure he’s not starting to bruise. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Ray assures her, he waits for her to stop examining him before he leans in to check on her. “Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Maybe you should put some ice on your forehead,” Ray says, his fingers brushing her forehead while his pulse jumps. “It looks like it’s starting to form an egg. My head is much harder than yours.”

“Actually, my skull is probably harder than yours based on the fact that I’m fem—” Neela trails off and chuckles when she realizes he’s alluding to the fact that he’s a hard head . She saves herself quickly. “Oh, well that goes without saying, doesn’t it? Don’t you think you should put some ice on your forehead?”

“Ice packs for two?” Ray suggests as he scoops up the ice cream on the floor and chucks it into the open trashcan, trying to steady the erratic beating of his heart.

“Sure,” Neela answers. “Want to watch a movie? You can pick.”

He mentally tells his heart to calm down because there is no way he will allow himself to catch feelings for Neela of all people. ‘Not in a million years Dolly Levi!’ he thinks to himself wryly as he watches her dig around in the freezer for gel packs.

He cringes when he realizes it’s a line from a movie she had made him watch a couple of weeks earlier.

“Want some ice cream?” Neela asks absent-mindedly as she finds a sad-looking package of peas and a gel pack oozing blue gel from the corner. She wraps the gel pack in a towel and brings it over to him, pressing it to the welt starting to form on his forehead.

Ray swallows and takes the gel pack from her. “Ice cream would be great. I’m going to find Hellraiser .”

“Okay,” Neela says.

If he were more aware of himself, he would know it was too late and he already had caught feelings for her.

.

She’s a pop-punk love song. She’s Everlong , the acoustic version by the Foo Fighters. ‘Breathe out so I can breathe in with you’ , he’s never been the type of guy to associate songs with girls. He’d never met anyone he liked enough to say songs reminded him of her. But here he was. One girl, dozens of songs reminding him of her. 

He doesn’t like it. 

His mother had warned him it was just a matter of time before he had met someone who would finally get under his skin. Someone he could possibly even fall in love with.

But why did it have to be Neela? 

Safe and dependable Neela. 

Reliable Neela. 

Taken Neela.

He still didn’t think it was love though. 

It was a fleeting crush.

It was just something he had to get out of his system, he muses as he changes the song to something a little less feeling-y.

.

The flu hits the ER pretty hard, patients and staff are dropping everywhere and even though Ray got his yearly flu shot - mostly because Neela insisted, on holding his hand while Abby administered it - he comes down with it too. 

It’s not as bad as it could be because he has some immunity to it but he still feels miserable. Neela flitters around the apartment, checking his temperature and plying him with Ricola and cherry cough syrup. He’s not very hungry but she tries to tempt his appetite with cinnamon toast and honey-sweetened Theraflu.

“You need to keep your strength up,” she says as she watches him disapprovingly. 

“I didn’t know you cared,” Ray replies even though he does know she cares because she’s there, isn’t she? Has been even the days she’s had shifts to work.

Neela chooses to ignore him and urges him to eat at least one piece of triangular toast. Take a few sips of tea before taking a nap. She offers him two Advils and he accepts them, swallowing past the gritiness in his throat. 

“Thanks,” Ray says.

“Get some sleep,” Neela replies. “You look like hell.”

He doesn’t need much convincing, he realizes how tired he really is as he hands her the toast and the tea, and lies down. He remembers being sick as a kid, and how his mom was never really around because she always had a party or function to attend to because she was on so many committees. He kind of wants to ask Neela not to go very far because her being there, it’s comforting. But he doesn’t. Being that needy is embarrassing.

He slips into a dreamless sleep even before she closes the door.

He wakes up a few hours later, sweaty and disoriented. Like his fever had broken somewhere during his nap. On cue, Neela comes through the door.

“Ah, you’re awake. Good! I made dinner. Are you hungry yet?”

“You cooked?” Ray asks, wrinkling his forehead.

“Moong dal khichdi,” Neela says, shoving the thermometer in his mouth. “Don’t worry, I called my mum and she walked me through every single step. You won’t die of food poisoning or anything.”

Ray tries to say something around the thermometer but Neela shakes her head. “I want an accurate reading,” she tells him. 

The thermometer beeps and she takes it out of his mouth, glancing at the number on the screen.
“99.0,” she says, pleased with the result. “An improvement. Maybe go take a shower and we can eat dinner while we watch a movie. No horror though, I don’t think horror is exactly good for the immune system.”

“That doesn’t sound very scientific to me,” Ray replies as Neela gets up and gets him new boxer shorts, new pajama bottoms, and a plain white t-shirt to change into. “I think you’re just taking advantage of me in my weakened state.”

Neela shakes her head and orders him into the shower again, staying close by to make sure he makes it okay. When he gets out of the bathroom, he notices that she’s made up the cozy couch for him. 

She turns around from the pot she’s stirring and smiles at him. “You still don’t look so hot.”

“I’m feeling a little better,” Ray says.

“Go lie down,” Neela tells him. “I’ll be right there with your dinner. You have to try and eat a little something, I can’t remember the last time I saw you have a full meal. My mum always makes this for everyone in the family when we’re sick.”

Ray does as he’s told and then she comes over to him with a steaming bowl of moong dal khichdi. She pauses for a second and tucks the blanket her sister had sent them for Christmas around him. Softly pushes his wet hair out of his face with her hand.

Ray closes his eyes and reminds himself that somewhere, in another country fighting for his freedom in an unjust war, there’s a guy she’ll always love more than him.

(he likes Gallant too, hopes for his safe return even and that’s why he’ll never make a move on her. Why he’s been denying his feelings for her, pushing them down somewhere where he can ignore them.)

But he takes a small bite of the food she’s prepared for him while she curls up at his feet and thinks maybe it tastes like she loves him at least a little.

“So what are we watching?” Ray asks.

“ Return To Me ,” Neela answers as she presses play on the DVD remote. “I added it to the queue a while ago and it just came in the mail today. I hope that’s okay.”

“I think it’s your turn to pick anyway,” Ray replies.

By the end of the movie, they’re both crying a little. Ray swipes at his nose with a Kleenex and blames being sick on his watery eyes and sniffing when she gives him a look through her tears. 

“You look exhausted. You should go and get ready for bed,” Neela says as she clears away their bowls, pattering around the living room in stocking feet. “I’ll bring you some more cough syrup in a minute.”

He gets ready for bed, brushes his teeth, and makes a note to replace his toothbrush when he feels better. 

Ray settles back in bed, flipping through an old issue of Nylon when Neela comes into his room with a cupful of cough syrup and a glass of water. 

“Thank you,” Ray says as he takes the medicine and throws it back, washing it down with the water.

“No problem,” Neela replies as she leans over and kisses his forehead gently, it only lasts a few seconds, maybe even less than that. “Try to get some sleep. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

Ray stops her before she leaves, his hand on her wrist. “I mean it, thank you for taking care of me while I’ve been sick.”

Neela smiles at him. “I don’t mind. I think you would do the same for me.”

Ray returns her smile, sighing inwardly. “I really would.”

He gets better just in time to return the favor and take care of her when she gets sick.

.

She’s getting married. 

Ray thinks he should have seen it coming. But not this soon, not this fast. 

Up until a few weeks ago, he was still fooling around with other girls. Admittedly it was because he was sure he could never be with Neela, and now… 

Now… he definitely knows he’ll never be with her.

She’s really doing the whole until death do we part thing and he was going to lose her even though she was never his, to begin with. He feels a pit growing in his stomach as he imagines what his life will look like without her. Going home to the apartment and her not being there, he can already feel an impending sense of loneliness. 

No one can replace her.

He’s already been trying.

He irons one of his only dress shirts and tries his best to be happy for her. He jokes about Neela and Michael’s honeymoon destination being at his apartment, keeping them ( Ray and Neela ) out of it. 

But as he drags himself to Brett’s apartment after the wedding, heavy-hearted and maybe lovesick, he reflects on that long-ago conversation with his mom about a girl finally getting under his skin and hates that it even happened at all.

.

Gallant goes back to Iraq after the wedding, Neela doesn’t talk about it but she stays with him in their apartment and Ray pretends he doesn’t love her. 

He makes dates and cancels them, opting to stay home and wait for Neela to return from work (when they’re not working shifts together) or to come back from her support group for people with spouses serving overseas. 

The best nights are when she leans into him and rests her head on his shoulder. He doesn’t allow himself to imagine a world of infinite ‘ what ifs’ .

He just allows himself - them - to be.

.

She moves out even though he tells her he wishes he didn’t feel the way he felt. Ray stands in the doorway of her bedroom, thinking about kissing her. He leans in a little and she walks away before he can.

And maybe that’s a saving grace because kissing her, well it might just ruin whatever they have left.

He tells her that she’s the best friend he’s ever had but to no avail. She leaves him on the sidewalk, clutching the shirt she stole from him in his hand, wishing she had taken it with her like he had asked her to. He doesn’t know how she expects him to live with the knowledge that she slept in it for so many months. It’s not like he can wear it anymore. 

He watches until her taxi disappears and then goes back inside because what choice does he have? His heart is so, so heavy. Heavier than it’s ever been before, heavier than he knew was possible, at least for him.

Ray turns around, faces the entrance of his apartment, and considers it. His heart clenches a little at the thought of having to go and face the lonely spaces by himself. He knew this day was coming, he just didn’t think it would be so soon.

.

Gallant dies.

The only thing Ray wants to do is make sure Neela is okay. Despite everything, he’s still her friend and he wants her to know that. He wants her to know he’ll be there for her however she needs him to be.

Except she tells him to leave her the hell alone and brushes past him. He lets her. What else is he supposed to do? Follow her and tell her he loves her? Right on the heels of losing her husband? The man she actually loves , her attraction to him aside. 

He doesn’t let her command sting. He knows she can’t mean it. Grief does funny things. It makes people act in ways they normally wouldn’t otherwise, he doesn’t know it from personal experience but he’s observed it. 

So he gives her space, his heart aching for her, hoping that she knows without him saying it that he’ll go to her whenever she’s ready for him, no matter how long it takes.

Except she never really chooses him. They fight like two jealous lovers, hurling insults at each other, flaunting their relationships in front of the other like two high schoolers. 

Ray feels petty and small but he can’t bring himself to stop. It’s like he’s back to pulling Neela’s proverbial pigtails just like when they first met.

Look at me, look at me! He wants to say.

Most of the time it works, and fighting with her is enthralling because he has her attention for a little bit, hot and angry attention. 

He usually feels guilty about it afterward and wants to seek her out to make up and be friends again. 

Ray also makes sure Gates knows that he’s not going to allow him to ruin Neela’s life or break her heart. He knows the older doctor finds him almost amusing, childlike in some ways while he listens with an indulgent smile.

He wishes he could see what Neela sees in him. Because he can’t, despite trying to (mostly to understand why she’s chasing him, why she’s allowing him to chase her).  It doesn’t make sense, not even when she explains it to him later on. But he would try to accept it, especially if it meant they could be together.

Suddenly, there’s a shift in their relationship again. Their arguments stop, she’s meeting him for drinks, and taking him to get coffee. 

One night she even lets him drive her home and when he leans in to kiss her, she kisses him back. They kiss and kiss and kiss, and he thinks maybe that he was made to kiss her. He thinks maybe… just maybe he was made to love her because kissing someone hasn’t ever felt like this and he’s kissed lots of girls before.

A whole future flashes in front of his closed eyes. Dating, moving back in with each other, late-night movies, slow dances to Everlong (she’s still Everlong . “Breathe out, so I can breathe you in, hold you in” ), holding her in his arms all night long. He can see himself asking her to marry him, their kids all named after rockstars and her family members. Maybe a dog.

He wants to ask her to pick him, to love him like he’s some pathetic television character. But he doesn’t. She’s kissing him back though and that has to be a good sign. When they finally say goodnight, cheeks flushed, and a little breathless he feels like he’s floating home on a cloud.

The kissing is enough to keep him going for days and when she promises he won’t have to wait much longer, well, it’s the most hope he’s had since she moved out.

He finishes the song he had been writing about her in the early days of falling in love with her, records it, and puts it on a CD along with some other songs that make him think of her. He gives it to her and is about to kiss her again before Hope interrupts them.

But it has to be something, he thinks as he goes to find somewhere to sit. It has to be.

That’s why seeing her with Gates at the reception is the most devastating blow he’s ever been dealt. 

The next thing he knows, he’s slightly drunk and Gates is fighting with him. The next thing he knows, he’s being kicked out while Pratt tries to console him. But he’s beyond consoling, he wants to drink more and more until he forgets Neela exists.

Until he forgot they ever met.

The next thing he knows, he’s trying to answer a call from her, and then he doesn’t know anything at all.

.

Seeing the look of devastation in her dark eyes when she sees him in his hospital bed, the way she kisses his neck when they say goodbye, and the look on her face as the elevators close is probably the third most devastating blow he’s ever suffered. 

He thinks he’ll never see her again and he thinks he’s fine with that.

.

He’s doing his best to get settled in when he gets a call from Abby, he hadn’t expected to hear from anyone from Chicago so soon and he lets it go to voice mail because he’s not in the mood to answer questions or deal with pity. He’s sure that by now that Neela’s let everyone in the damn ER know about his predicament.

So when the phone rings again only a few seconds later, he picks it up fully intent on giving Abby a piece of his mind and telling her what she can do with her well wishes. 

“Ray! Thank god I finally reached you!” Abby says before he can say anything. “I know now’s not the best time to tell you this with everything you’re going through but Neela’s been hurt.”

Ray feels like he’s deflating. “Hurt?” he repeats. “What do you mean by she’s hurt ? Like a broken arm?”

He wants it to be a broken arm or something so he can be annoyed Abby’s burdening him with such petty problems when he’s dealing with the loss of his legs. He wants it to be a broken arm so he can say “Yeah, I have it worse though” . But he knows it has to be much worse than that for Abby to be calling him because nobody ever calls for something like a broken bone. It comes up in casual conversation, if it comes up at all if you’re not seeing someone every day.

All he can think of is the last thing he said to her in the hospital. The way she was looking at him as he left, and his stomach twists. He had thought that would be the last time he would ever see her. He had half wanted it to be. 

But now…

“Please…” Ray begs, trailing off, he doesn’t know if he can get the words out. “How did it happen?” he asks instead.

“She went to a peace rally or something and someone set off a cherry bomb,” Abby says. “There was a stampede and she got trampled. She had to have surgery and she fell into a coma.”

He feels like he’s going to throw up and he wonders how fate could be so cruel to let them both get so gravely injured within days of each other. He wishes there was something he could do but he’s confined to a hospital bed, and all he can see is her brown eyes looking at him unblinkingly while she slips, slips away from him.

He wishes to God the Vicodin had worked and he hates that he still loves her. Because he can’t imagine a world without her in it and maybe if he hated her, maybe he would be able to. 

“Ray?” Abby asks. “Are you still there?”

“I’m still here,” Ray barely whispers. “Will you call me when she wakes up?”

There’s a long pause on the other end, a release of breath, and Ray knows there’s something Abby isn’t telling him. The number of days Neela’s been in a coma maybe or the extent of her injuries and he thinks she’s just calling to prepare him for her inevitable death.

“Yeah,” Abby answers finally her voice low and quivery. “I’ll call you when she wakes up.”

Ray puts all the energy he’s been spending on himself into worrying for Neela while mentally preparing for the worst and trying to hope for the best.

A few days later, she calls him back to tell him Neela’s awake. When they hang up, Ray asks his mom for some paper and a pen, relief coursing through him as he writes her a letter. He’s careful to avoid any more love confessions - even though he still loves her - because neither of them is ready for that. And even though he’s still a little angry with her, he tells her that he doesn’t blame her for what happened to him (because he doesn’t), and he thinks that’s a start.

.

Sometime around Christmas, he receives an email from Neela asking him if he’s sorry that they ever met and his heart skids to a complete stop. It’s void of her usual warm greeting, perfunctory, he misses the anxiety in it, the uncertainty. He doesn’t even know why she’s asking him such a question and he’s sure that he’s going to lose her completely. He can’t help but be terrified he will, it feels so much like goodbye.

“Are you sorry we ever met?”

It’s almost insulting, he can’t think of ever giving her the indication he was. Not even in the hospital (okay, maybe he did. Things from those days are hazy but why bring it up now ? And he hadn’t meant it at all… he didn’t .)

He sighs and jerks his hand through his hair before clicking on the reply button, his fingers hover over the keyboard.

Was he sorry that they’d ever met?

He’s never thought about it that way, not even on the darkest and worst of days after his accident, or all the days before that or in between. But he doesn't know how to answer her. He can’t answer her without knowing why. He flip-flops between replying to her e-mail or calling her and demanding to know why she’s asking such a thing so he doesn’t have to wait for her answer. 

He finally settles on calling her and for the first time in forever, he presses the number he assigned to her on speed dial when they lived together. His heart hammering in his chest as the phone rings and he has to work to contain getting angry at her.

“Hello?” Neela asks warily when she finally picks up.

His anxiety and anger leak out of him like a balloon that hasn’t been tied off when he hears the apprehension in her voice. She sounds like he feels.

“Neela… hi,” he says weakly.

“Did you get my email?” she asks, not making time to exchange niceties, going straight for the jugular. 

“Uh… yeah, just actually. I’m looking at it right now,” he answers, raking his fingers through his hair again. “That’s why I’m calling.” 

“Well?” Neela asks, she doesn’t sound impatient. She sounds nervous though, like she’s on the verge of tears. 

“ Well , I want to know why you’d ask me something like that,” Ray replies. “ Where the hell did you come up with that one? Have I given you any indication since we started writing to each other that I wish we hadn’t met? You don’t still believe I blame you for what happened? Come on Neela, you can’t throw that at a guy out of left field without some sort of an explanation!”

There’s silence on the other end and he almost thought she’d hung up on him and then she releases a huff of breath, he can almost hear her hesitation. “I don’t know if I should be telling you this.”

“Someone said it?” Ray guesses. “Was it Katy?”

“ What? No, it wasn’t Katy, I haven’t talked to her since the last time she confronted me. I don’t even know where she is. For all I know, she could be starting a hospital on Mars,” Neela answers.

Ray sighs in exasperation. “Well? Who was it then?” Gates’ name is on the tip of his tongue and it feels so acidic that he doesn’t think he can ask.

“If I tell you, will you answer me?” Neela’s voice sounds tight and he wonders if she’s holding back tears, which causes his heart to clench a little.

He sighs again, less exasperated this time. “Of course.”

“It was Abby,” Neela admits in a low voice, she sniffs a little, and Ray actually thinks she might be crying. “She was, uh, she was drunk . So I don’t think she meant it but there was this small part of me that wondered… that wonders if she’s right.”

Ray closes his eyes and allows himself to think about the question. He tries to think about what his life would look like without her and he just can’t imagine it, she’s had such a profound impact on his life. He’s incapable of it, despite every bad thing between them. He allows himself to be grateful this isn’t her way of trying to get rid of him despite wanting to call Abby and chew her out for casting seeds of doubt in her mind, even if she didn’t mean it as Neela had suggested.

“Ray?” Neela asks the same uncertain tone from her email is in her voice. 

“Oh Neela…” Ray trails off, his heart still so full of love for her he thinks it might suffocate him. “Of course, I don’t wish we’d never met,” he chokes out despite trying to keep his voice even.

She must have mistaken his emotion for hesitation because she asks him if he’s sure. If he’s really sure that he wishes they’d never met.

“I’m sure,” he tells her firmly, willing her to believe him because if she doesn’t, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

Neela releases a deep woosh of breath. “Okay,” she says.

“Okay,” Ray echoes.

“I’ve got to go,” Neela says with a sigh. “I’m sorry for bothering you, Ray.”

Ray feels slightly unmoored as he shakes his head, a lump growing in his throat, wishing he could think of a way to keep her on the phone longer. “It was no bother,” he assures her. “I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah, later…” Neela agreed, trailing off.

Someone has to hang up first and Ray does it reluctantly and quickly all at the same time and without saying goodbye. 

.

Later that night, he sits outside on his mom’s porch, staring at the white Christmas lights adorning the house across the street. 

The door opens and his mom joins him, a glass of white wine in her hand, a country Christmas cover spilling from the house.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?” Jacy asks. “You’ve been quiet since you got off that call.”

Ray looks at her and sighs, forcing one of the reassuring smiles he’s mastered. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re still thinking about that girl, aren’t you?” Jacy shakes her head. “Don’t try and deny it, Ray. I know you’re in love and you have been for a while. I would also wager you’re not in love with Katy. I haven’t seen her since May. It’s your old roommate, isn’t it?”

Ray doesn’t think he can say the words aloud. He hasn’t ever before.

“You can say I told you so,” he replies instead.

Jacy raises her eyebrow. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You always said that it was just a matter of time before I met someone I could fall in love with,” Ray answers. “You made it sound like payback for all those girls I could never quite commit to.”

Jacy looks surprised. “Well, yes I did say that,” she admits. “But I never wanted you to get your heartbroken Ray. I had hoped the young woman you fell in love with would feel the same way about you. I don’t want you to suffer or have some sort of payback. Does she… does Neela not love you in return?”

Ray rubs his hands over his knees and thinks about it. After all this time, he’s still not sure how she feels about him. She’s never come right out and said it. Not even in the hospital when she had told him things with Gates were over for good. 

If she had said she loved him then, he probably wouldn’t have believed it. He would have thought her love was just a consolation prize because his life had changed forever.

He sighs. “I don’t know. Anything now, it would feel like I wouldn’t know if she was with me because she pitied me or because she really felt something for me. Besides, she has a lot going on too.”

“Have you ever told her how you feel?” Jacy asks.

Ray thinks about the fateful night she left the apartment and he told her that he wished he didn’t feel the way he did. He thinks about how he practically spit out that he had fallen in love with her, mostly because he wanted her to feel bad.

It doesn’t count.

“Not really,” he admits. “But it doesn’t matter now.”

It’s the same thing he said in the hospital to Neela in May, it’s something he keeps having to tell himself. But hearing from her earlier today, despite the circumstances. He doesn’t know. 

“You don’t get to decide for her, you know,” Jacy says, her voice sweeter than Tupelo honey. “You should tell her.”

Ray’s not so sure he should.

He doesn’t.

.

Ray heals from the accident and he buys a large, sprawling house that needs a lot of work with the money from the insurance payout. He does it to keep himself busy while he figures out what he’s going to do next with his life and to distract himself from Neela in Chicago, healing by herself. He throws himself into gutting and reconstructing this old southern house and trying to turn it into a home.

He’s almost done with it when he realizes, he’s made it exactly to Neela’s specifications. The colors he painted the rooms, the porch swing, the wrap-around porch, the wicker furniture, the yellow he painted the house, and the cream shutters are all things she had mentioned wanting in a home one day.

He’s even put in a breakfast nook, a library, and a place to plant vegetables and flowers just like she had expressed daydreaming about when she was a little girl.

He feels a pit in his stomach when he realizes that she’ll probably never see it, how he’ll never see her again despite the constant exchange of letters between them because he can’t bring himself to call her again after that painful conversation on the phone about whether he regretted meeting her or not.

Sometimes he wishes she would show up like they do in one of the movies she likes so much and would subject him to watching to back when they were living in their old apartment in Chicago and it was her turn to pick something to watch. 

It would end with her saying “Your hands are cold” (even though she liked the 1996 Pride & Prejudice better than the 2005 version, and they only watched it for the music and because of time constraints). Or maybe she would say something like “You had me at hello” as stupid of a line as it was, and he would say something like “Save me, Neela, fair” before opening the double French doors and welcoming her home. 

.

The letters turn to emails, the emails turn to instant messages, and the instant messages turn to phone calls. Eventually, they’re doing a combination of all four things. No form of communication is off-limits. They talk even more than they did when they lived together and Ray misses her with every fiber of his being. 

They keep it light and easy. Books, movies, and music. 

He doesn’t tell her that he’s always thinking about her.

Absent has made the heart grow fonder and he’s frustrated he can’t do anything about it. 

But the truth is, he would rather be friends with her than tell her he loves her and scare her away forever. She’ll probably tell him he has no reason to love her, they’ve been apart for too long now. He can’t imagine she loves him back. Even when he thought she did, it never came to anything and he’s learned to be careful with his heart.

So, he talks and laughs with her. Acts like her friend and nothing more. He comforts her when she confesses how lonely she has been since Abby left. Thinks about asking her if she has anything keeping her in Chicago anymore but doesn’t. 

She would ask why he wanted to know and he knew he couldn’t give her a reason. Not without showing his hand, betraying how he still felt.

One day they talk about how she stays in most of the time watching screwball comedies alone. He tells her to get out and see the world, that life isn’t County. She calls him and they banter like old times. When an opportunity comes up to go to Chicago for a medical conference, he jumps on it. He specifically plans it so he can surprise her and spend the day with her.

He’s banking on her being completely available but if she’s not, something tells him that she’ll clear her schedule for him. 

.

The surprise goes off without a hitch. She’s happy to see him and he’s happy to see her, he wasn’t prepared for how happy he would be to see her. He watches her in action, he’d forgotten how much he loved watching her in her element. It was one of the reasons he had fallen in love with her in the first place, she was so passionate about her job.

She introduces him to Brenner and he doesn’t want to think about the other guy as a threat. But he can sense the tension between them, he can tell the other doctor has some sort of thing from Neela. Her slight annoyance with him kind of gives him temporary relief that she’s not as interested as Brenner is. 

She sends him away to wait for her and goes off to finish her rounds, promising to find him when she’s done.

The day is more perfect than he could have imagined. They fit together, he knows they fit together and he can’t find a way to articulate it to her. He still has the scars of rejection, long faded but still just as present as the physical scars from his last surgery.

They talk a lot and say things they’ve probably been wanting to say for a while.

“I wish I could have been there for you while you went through all that.”

“We weren’t on a talking basis for a while,” Ray replies.

A Daniel Johnson cover song starts to play.

“Cool tune,” Ray says.

“I love this song,” Neela says at the same time.

Ray puts his bottle of beer down and takes hers. 

“Come here.” Ray takes her in his arms and kisses her head. 

They dance together, still talking about things. How she felt like his accident was her fault, how he needed to talk stock of his life. Their faces are close to each other’s, his nose brushes hers. He’s about to kiss her when there’s a knock on the door.

“It’s probably trick-or-treaters,” Neela says. “Let’s ignore them and they’ll go away. So you were saying?”

Ray continues talking, and goes to kiss her again, when there’s another knock on the door, louder this time.

“Bullocks!” Neela grinds out as she lets him go. “Hold on, I’ll send them away. Sorry kids, I’m all out of candy!”

But it’s not children in costumes, expectantly waiting for candy with plastic Jack O’lanterns. It’s Brenner , a smug grin on his face, a bottle of champagne in hand.

Ray feels like he’s been dosed in ice-cold water and he feels like he can’t ever catch a break where Neela is involved. Every time they take a step forward, they take double the steps back. In all fairness to her, it doesn’t seem like she wants Brenner there but he knows he can’t stay.

He starts to gather up his things while Neela apologizes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t invite him.”

“Oh, it’s getting late. I should go,” Ray replies.

“You don’t have to!” Neela tells him.

“It’s been a great day, a fun night but I have that conference in the morning,” Ray answers.

“You can stay here instead of driving to the hotel,” Neela invites, looking at him with those same dark eyes from the JumboMart that long ago 4th of July.

It’s hard for him not to say yes. But he can’t. He has to keep his heart safe this time around, it’s already been broken before.

“I’m in a good place now and you seem good too.” He looks at her, staring into her sad eyes as he strengthens his resolve to leave. “I’m gonna go.”

He leans in and kisses her before he can stop himself. Just a peck on the lips, there’s a pause before he kisses her again, longer this time. 

He thinks he still loves her but he doesn’t say it aloud. Instead, he tells her he’ll see her soon before leaving as fast as he can.

Before he leaves, he looks up and catches a glimpse of her watching him from the window. She looks so sad, it makes his heart ache. He offers her a small smile, and waves at her while she puts her hand on the window. 

He takes one last look at her and then drives away.

.

He starts to date a girl from Georgia. She asks him out and he says yes, because why not? He’s still talking to Neela all the time but if she wants something more, she never comes right out and says it. He thinks about Brenner showing up at her apartment though and decides it’s time to move on.

Her name is Annabelle. Her southern accent is thicker than his mother’s and she says things like “bless your heart” and “y’all” all the time while she swishes her perfect blonde ponytail around. 

He thinks he likes her. He thinks he could like her.

But…

“Who is she?” Annabelle asks him one day between Christmas and New Year’s.

“Hmm?” Ray crumples a sugar packet. 

“The girl you’re obviously thinking about,” Annabelle replies. “I’ve seen the letters at your house a few times. Heard you say you’ll talk to her later when you think I’m not listening.” 

“She’s no one,” Ray replies.

“She doesn’t seem like no one ,” Annabell says. “Bad breakup?”

“We never dated.”

“Right,” Annabelle draws out, tapping her nails on the table. “So, then what is it?”

Ray sighs and guesses he owes Annabelle the truth. That’s what you do when you’re dating someone, right? Tell them about parts of yourself, past and present, and hope they don’t run when they see the real you.

“She’s just a girl I knew in Chicago. We’re friends but nothing more than that. I thought I was in love with her for a while.”

“You don't think so anymore?” 

“Honey, I only have eyes for you,” Ray answers, cringing as he says it. It’s been a while since he used a line on anyone, it sounds so insincere. 

“It’s not like I’m gonna be heartbroken if you’re not in love with me,” Annabelle tells him. “We haven’t been dating that long. But I am curious why you haven’t told her how you feel.”

“She was seeing someone else when it started, she married him when it got stronger and then I think she knew but it never… we never…” Ray trails off.

“But  she’s not married anymore?” 

“No. Widowed,” Ray replies, his stomach twisting a little at the word, it seems so matronly for someone like Neela who’s still so young. She shouldn’t be widowed, she shouldn’t be living in Chicago all alone, or pining for a dick like Simon Brenner. 

“Hmm,” Annabelle hums. “Well the way I see it, you should stop wasting time and tell her how you feel.” 

“You’re not a waste of time,” Ray feels obligated to say. 

“Oh, I know!” Annabelle assures him, smiling. “But you should still tell her. If it doesn’t work out and you ever find yourself over her, you know where to find me.”

And just like that, it’s over. It didn’t even last long enough to make an impression on either of them.

.

Neela texts him.

I’m thinking about you

His heart gives a tremendous thump. He waits a few minutes so he doesn’t give away how excited he is to hear from her like that .

I’m thinking about you too

He replies after a while just so he doesn’t appear to eager to hear from her in a manner faster than all their usual forms of communication. 

  .

Ray makes Neela a mixed tape for Valentine’s Day. He knows she’s seeing Brenner now, she mentioned it in passing the last time they talked but he decides it doesn’t matter. He thinks about what Anabelle said when she broke up with him, it’s time to throw his hat back in the ring. Or maybe really do it for the first time.

He spends a few days arranging and rearranging the perfect playlist of songs for her, starting with a Peter Yorn song.

Take my hand, come with me… 

Okay, so maybe it isn’t explicit but music is like wearing his heart on his sleeve for him. 

On Valentine’s Day, she sends him an e-card with an anatomically correct heart on it with a generic Happy Valentine’s Day and a message thanking him for the CD. 

(The next year, she gives him another anatomical heart Valentine with a pun about giving him giving her premature ventricular contractions.)

.

“Finally,” Ray says when she comes to see him at the hospital, trying to keep his voice even as she smiles at him, her gaze unwavering. “Are you really here?”

“Yeah,” she answers. “I really am.”

.

“Do you have anywhere to stay?” Ray asks over stale coffee and cold French fries in the cafeteria an hour or so later. 

“A hotel for the next few days,” Neela answers. “Then I’ll start looking for an apartment.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ray replies, shaking his head. “You can come home with me.”

“Until I find a place to live?” 

“Or for as long as you like,” Ray tells her, fiddling with a napkin. “Forever even.”

Neela inhales. “Are you sure you won’t get sick of me?”

“I haven’t ever gotten sick of you,” Ray says sincerely. “Besides, it’s kind of lonely living in the house all by myself. I could use the company.”

“Alright,” Neela agrees. “I’ll come but you’ll have to tell me if I’m overstaying my welcome.”

Ray thinks about the house he created specifically with her in mind and doesn’t tell her he doesn’t think she’ll ever overstay her welcome. Instead, he sticks out his hand just like he did that fateful day when they agreed to be roommates and they shake on it.

.

“Ray,” Neela breathes when she gets out of her rental car and looks at the house, she turns to look at him, her mouth open. “It’s just like my dream house.”

He thinks about a million things he could say, all the things he’s gone over in his head. 

Save me Neela, fair… 

You had me at hello…

Welcome home…

Instead, he walks towards her with so much intention, determined. He doesn’t offer her an explanation for the house. He pushes her hair away from her face and looks at her, into those eyes he thinks he’s loved ever since he first met her.

“I think you know I love you,” he says for the first time ever and it feels so good, it feels so much better than that time in the hospital, then trying to say it through a Peter Yorn song, or the one he wrote for her when he was much more immature and a lot more hopeful. 

Neela’s face crumples before she bursts into tears and Ray feels his heart constrict a little. He’s not sure if a girl is supposed to cry when someone says they love them. He swipes at her cheeks with his thumbs, not sure what to do next and then she looks at him.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“It’s okay,” Ray assures her, not sure why she’s apologizing. 

Neela sighs and puts her hands on his face, looking into his eyes and studying him for the longest time. “Would it surprise you if I said I love you too?” she asks. 

“I mean, you’re here, aren’t you? Unless you’re here to just be friends—”

Neela cuts him off with a kiss, leaving him with no doubt what this really is. He kisses her back, this feels real. More real than it’s ever felt before, he can see their whole lives all over again and he feels at peace. He’s almost having trouble believing someone out there tied his fate to hers, that they’re together and on the same page at the same time. He wants to pinch himself to make sure he isn’t dreaming.

“I love you,” he says again, taking her hand and guiding her up the steps to their house. To the house he created for her, for the two of them. One of his first labors of his affection for her, but not his last.

She smiles at him. “I love you too,” she replies, stopping to kiss him another time.

Ray wants to stay there, on the second porch step, and kiss her for as long as time allows but there’s something else he wants to do more. 

He leads her onto the porch and opens the double-French doors, he takes her hand, his heart beating harder than it has in a while. Even harder than when he saw her looking at him at the hospital. He stands aside so she can see inside, and he welcomes her home.

The End