Work Text:
Robby squinted as the sun bore down on him. It felt like forever since he had felt the heat of the sunshine on his skin. Between coming in early and leaving late at the emergency center, he spent all his other time at his house. He hadn't been getting out much.
At home, he drowned in his sorrows with beer and fried food, just staring mindlessly at the TV.
It had been a month since she broke up with him. It felt both like the longest time of his life and the shortest.
But he still had to see her at work. He still had to pretend that he could function without her. Still pretended he was a whole person without her.
But he was slowly dying inside.
His refrigerator was nearly empty, and he was tired of eating takeout. So he threw on an old T-shirt and some shorts and headed to the grocery store.
He could hear Heather’s voice in his head.
But you have to take care of yourself. You work too hard. You're going to end up in one of those hospital beds one day if you keep this up.
That’s what she would tell him.
He heard her voice all the time. Constantly. Past conversations, imagined ones, what he should’ve said to her, how he should’ve treated her.
Before she gave up on him.
The whole time, right before she broke up with him, he knew he had it coming. He knew he had to do better. But he couldn’t.
He couldn’t make himself treat her the way she deserved.
And in a way, he was almost glad she gave up on him because she deserved so much better.
It wasn’t his first breakup, not by far, but it was certainly, definitely, his hardest. He didn’t know if he’d ever get over Heather.
She was the kind of woman you searched for your whole life. And he just let her fade away.
He sighed and shook his head. He was tired of being lost in his own mind.
He parked his car and headed toward the grocery store, then stopped.
She was there.
Of course she’s here , he thought.
This was her favorite grocery store. He had driven there on instinct, without thinking, just like all those times they went together on their days off.
She was out front, looking at the flowers. That was always her first stop.
She loved flowers. Loved plants. She always said homes were more lived in, more complete, with flowers.
Even on the days he went to the store without her, he always made sure to bring some back. The smile on her face when he surprised her with them, God, it made him so happy to see her that happy.
She was wearing her yoga clothes, so he knew she had just finished her class. Her body was probably feeling loose and limber. She looked like she was ready to have a relaxing day. She’d probably head to the bookstore next, grab a new book. Maybe stop by her favorite store, Lush, and pick up some bath and body products. Then take a nice, long bath.
He used to get her baths ready while she put up the groceries. Helped her undress. Helped her step into the tub. She’d sigh as the hot water hit her skin. Sometimes, she just wanted to relax solo. And sometimes, she wanted him to join her. Whatever she wanted, he was always up for it.
Then things changed.
The pressure of everything at work, Adamson’s death, the constant barrage of patients they couldn’t help, the ones who kept dying, left no room for anything else. They didn’t have time.
Grocery store trips turned into deliveries. Long baths turned into quick showers, when they even had a moment at home before heading back to work. Even at night, when they finally made it to bed, it used to be that they slept curled around each other. But toward the end, they stayed on their own sides.
As if the pandemic had kept them six feet apart even when they didn’t need to be.
Grief was a funny thing.
You mourned the ones who were no longer with you, yet pushed away the ones who still were, the ones you still loved, the ones you still had time to tell how much you needed and appreciated them.
He hadn’t seen that then.
He pushed Heather away. He hid his feelings. He cried to himself in the shower, never sharing his grief with her. He made her feel unappreciated. Unloved.
It was unforgivable.
He didn’t know how he could ever deserve to get her back because he knew, without a doubt, he was the one who ruined their relationship.
He wanted to run to her then. Hug her, kiss her. But instead, he watched how she smelled each of the flowers and couldn’t help but smile.
She looked good.
No, that wasn’t right.
She looked beautiful. She glowed. She seemed, if not overly happy, then at least content.
At work, in the emergency center, she was her usual self, polished and professional.
Empathetic and skilled with both patients and residents. A natural mentor. They still worked well together. Like a well-oiled machine. The breakup hadn’t changed that.
But she caught him staring at her sometimes. He knew what she saw when she looked at him: sadness and regret. And she always looked away. He didn’t blame her. What right did he have to feel sad when he was the reason they ended?
He thought about turning around and going to another grocery store. She probably didn’t want to see him, not when she was on her day off, relaxing. She had already spent enough time with him at work. But before he could make a decision, she turned around.
They stared at each other from across the parking lot.
Her smile dropped. She looked down, like he was the last person she wanted to see at that moment.
He froze.
He didn’t know what to do. Should he get back in his car and leave? Should he keep walking, go into the store, just pass her and say hello?
He didn’t know which option would be more awkward. His feet wouldn’t move. He was glued to the spot.
He just stood there.
Stared at her. Her eyes found his again, and she stared back.
A horn blared, snapping him out of their staredown.
He turned to see that a man in a large SUV had his head out the window, yelling.
“What’s wrong with you? You wanna get hit? Get out of the way!”
Robby moved on instinct, stepping aside and slipping between two parked cars. The SUV sped off, way too fast for a parking lot.
By the time Robby recovered and looked up again, he saw Heather’s retreating back as she hurried down the sidewalk.
The flowers she had been holding were left behind.
He guessed the decision was made.
He dropped his head and walked into the grocery store.