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Rumi's anger had burned out long ago.
They'd talked about it, sometimes.
About her.
Mira. The way their world had been completely upended.
They'd talked about what they could have said or done differently to keep Mira from leaving. And it wasn't even about Mira leaving but how she'd done it.
If Mira had just told them... Maybe they could have lived with it, kept in touch. Maybe they'd have even supported her — and they'd still supported her even if they couldn't tell her and for a long, long time wouldn't have.
It just … it took some time for the hurt to dull enough. Enough so that Rumi's hurt wasn't catching Zoey on accident and Zoey wasn't deflecting hers onto Rumi.
Their relationship hung by the thinnest of threads for months in the wake of Mira's departure.
And just when they'd thought they were over it, they kept seeing her. On cooking shows. Competitions. News articles. Grace never did take down the picture of her in the restaurant and Rumi hadn't been able to talk herself into asking.
"She looks miserable," Zoey said. Unable to change the channel, she hugged a pillow to her chest and Rumi leaned into her.
The Mira on screen was perfect. Snarky, sharp witted, composed and beautiful. But her eyes... Rumi could see it, same as Zoey. Mira wasn't happy. Maybe she wasn't miserable, but there was no spark there.
And maybe, in another life, she wasn't miserable. Perhaps she was still in their lives, that they were something that motivated her to win.
The thought left a gaping ache in Rumi's chest that refused to go away. As she reached up, wiping a tear from Zoey's cheek, Mira repeated a question directed at her as she cooked.
"What would I do with the money? I want my own restaurant. Korean. There's one in my home town that I used to work at. It's probably some of the best Korean food you'll ever have. Small but … thriving." A wistful, genuine smile crossed her face, "I want to run something like that."
Seeing the glint of Mira's necklace, Rumi entertained the thought of getting in the car and driving a thousand miles and beating down Mira's door and—what?
Fall down on her knees? Beg? Plead? Scream? Screaming sounded great actually but Rumi's anger had burned out in a day and there was only ashes of regret that remained.
Oh, she was so not over her and she felt Zoey's fingers on her cheeks and hugged her tighter. Neither moved to change the channel.
If they kept the tv on the food channels most of the time, neither was willing to admit as to why.
Even after all these years, Zoey still slept in the polar bear night shirt. Rumi had long ago raided Mira's closet for a selection of shirts herself. She still ached when she thought of her. Not angry. Not angry in such a long time, but sad.
In was a cold, snowy night, nearly six years after Mira had left that they got the call.
Mira had left. Mira had broken them apart and it had been six years and for reasons Rumi didn't understand, they were still her emergency contacts. For reasons that Rumi fully understood, her heart still lept into her throat.
Black ice, an accident in the snow, Mira in the hospital, Mira unconscious in a bed hooked up to wires and IVs, alive and… and….
Thank god Celine had been awake. Rumi didn't think she'd have been capable of driving safely.
Rumi looked down at her hand, at Mira's necklace clenched tightly in her fingers, at the three rings intertwined.
Mira had been wearing it.
Mira had always been wearing it. In every cooking show they saw her on. In the pictures that seemed to pop up even when they didn't want to see them. Like she hadn't been able to let them go. Which had made if difficult to let her go. Like there'd been a thin strand of hope that if they just sat down and talked that maybe they could salvage something.
But none of them had reached out. Any of then could have. Should have. Rumi had always wanted Mira to be the one to reach out first. Now they were here and Rumi didn't care about the ache any more. She just wanted Mira to be okay. She regretted every time she'd fought the impulse to reach out or asked Zoey not to.
But they'd figure out the rest as long as Mira was okay.
"Do you think she was scared?" Zoey asked, gripping Mira's hand, "That she was going to die? Alone?"
Rumi looked down at the necklace, rubbing her fingers over the rings, "I don't know what she was thinking. Or why she's here." Her shoulders sagged.
"I want…" Zoey looked back at Mira, "I don't want to let her go again. I let go of being pissed years go. I just want her around."
"When she's awake—" When, not if, "Lets just see how it goes."
She looked over Mira. Seeing her again, in the flesh, had not been something she'd prepared for. She looked solid and fragile all at once. Rumi scooted closer, leaning past Zoey to brush some hair out of Mira's face. Her own ponytail fell across her shoulders and she pushed it back as she sat back.
The tone of the machines shifted, and Mira's eyes opened. They darted around blinking several times as they adjusted to the light and then she looked at them. Her eyes widened slightly, surprise in them. Hope. Guilt.
"Mira?" Rumi had stood half way, hands on the bed.
A smile, tentative, flashed across Mira's face, "I didn't think you'd ever want to see me. But I was hoping I'd get the chance to when I was in town. Even if I wasn't welcome."
"Mira, you've always been welcome home. We've just been waiting for you to find whatever it was you needed." Maybe, in another world, they could have avoided all this pain and heart ache. Talked it through. Stopped the damage before they'd hurt each other. But one couldn't change the past no matter how much one wanted to.
Mira's lip quivered, "You have… you have every right to not… to not want to see me."
"We do." Zoey lifted her hand, kissing it and squeezing it, "But we also have every right to want to see you. And we do. That's why we're here."
"I don't deserve this."
"You didn't deserve to wake up alone," Zoey insisted.
"This isn't about what you do and don't deserve." Rumi shook her head, "Just rest, Mira. When they release you you can stay with us."
"Okay… okay." Mira seemed to deflate into the bed. Her eyes fluttered closed, then opened again and looked for them. After the third time of this, Zoey crawled into bed with her.
"One or both of us will be here when you wake up," Rumi promised.
"I don't expect you to… forgive me. I just want the chance to be friends again," Mira mumbled.
"Us too." Zoey snuggled into her.
Something in Rumi's chest shifted, a little. Friends, they could try that.
Anything more … she'd need time and trust for. But at least they had that. As she looked over Mira, hooked to machines and an IV, she realized she'd almost lost the chance to even try.
Rumi's anger had burned out long ago, but in the ashes hope still sprouted.
Maybe this could mean a second chance.