Archive of Our Own

Mel spent most of her shift avoiding her boyfriend. Today had just not been her day: it was spring so her allergies were in full swing and her head hadn't felt clear in hours. Rain poured outside the PTMC, coming down so loudly that she could hear it even over the chaotic clamor of the ED— they were dealing with more car crashes and major falls than they would on a clear day. But she was in a bad mood for other reasons than those.

She was in a bad mood because she was almost certain she had to break up with one Frank Langdon.

She busied herself with work and tried not to picture Frank's face when she told him the news. Their relationship had gotten off to a slow start: his ex-wife Abby had divorced him the same summer he returned to work after rehab. Mel had been delighted to gain a friend in him, so romance hadn't even occurred to her for nearly a full year after their reunion. In fact, it came as quite a shock to her when a very frustrated Frank finally poured his heart out to her a year ago now. It had been raining that day, too. Just the two of them, isolated in the ambulance bay as rain drizzled around them and Frank confessed that he felt tormented by his love for her. She couldn't look away from those teary blue eyes— as she stared into their depths, she realized for the first time that she was a little more than just enamored with his medical skills and compelled by a "purely platonic" need to be his friend.

Their first kiss, that stormy night in the ambulance bay, had been wet with rain and no small amount of tears.

The year she had spent with him was by far the happiest of her life. Her fourth year of residency left her more confident with practicing medicine than ever before. She moved through the Pitt with ease and grew to become one of the most easily approachable and admired senior residents in the whole department. She loved training the interns and medical students; every time she watched them blossom with confidence she felt aglow with pride.

She moved in with Frank after a few months together. Becca and her boyfriend Adam spent most of their time together these days, so she had gotten used to only seeing her sister a few times a month when they scheduled a hangout. Her heart ached for their previous closeness, but of course her days off quickly became filled with children instead— Abby dropped the kids off at Frank's place on the weekends, so for two whole days every week her life was pure, domestic bliss. Mel loved every minute she got to spend with the kids and secretly harbored a shy hope to one day be called their stepmother.

But a year with him had passed, and now everything was changing again. Mel hated change. She hated the way she felt like she was floating whenever she got life changing news, her skin itching and her hair lifting as if there was lightning on the horizon. She didn't know how to talk to Frank about it, how to fix things to be perfect again the way she so desperately wanted to. But she knew that life moved on regardless of how she felt about it. So she squared her shoulders and moved on too, the same way she had her whole life. Just a deep breath and a leap of faith, hoping to land somewhere soft. She just had to find the right time to talk to him, that was all.

She had hoped to break her news to him at home after their shift. She pictured herself ordering their favorite takeout and putting on their song; they would dance in the kitchen like they usually did in the evenings to unwind. She imagined his arms around her, her nose buried in his shoulder as they shifted sleepily around the kitchen and he stroked the day's stress out of her hair. She would tell him then, she had decided— they could talk about it for hours if they needed to, then curl up in bed afterwards and face the uncertainty of tomorrow together for at least one more night. But of course, nothing seemed to be going her way lately; she supposed that it shouldn't have been a surprise when she was cornered in the ambulance bay at the end of their shift instead.

"Jesus. What a day."

Mel jumped as the voice sounded behind her, low and rough with exhaustion. The rain had simmered down to a soft pitter-patter around her head as the twilight shadows thickened around her. She stood at the back of the ambulance bay, in the same place she had once stood as she watched the fireworks after that disastrous Fourth of July shift— those many, many days ago when she was reunited with Frank after ten long months apart. She came here often to breathe and collect her thoughts towards the end of her shift. She had been trying to figure out how to approach the conversation with him, turning over excuses and explanations in her mind. But of course, Frank knew exactly where to find her.

"Yeah, no kidding." Mel looked up at the drizzling sky, watched as the clouds parted for just a moment to shed some misty light down on the lovers. The sky was a breathtaking blend of russet and gold behind the gray wall of clouds. For just a moment, she felt her heart lift with hope. Then Frank was at her side, his elbow a friendly nudge against her arm, and the sunset was swallowed by rain once again. Her heart plummeted.

"Mel." The moment he said her name her chest clenched. No matter how she envisioned the evening going, she had a bad feeling this conversation was happening right now. "Have you been… avoiding me today? Did I do something wrong, because you've been kinda… distant lately."

"What makes you say that?" she answered weakly, turning her eyes away from the gray sky to look down at her hands. She twisted them in front of her hips repetitively, soothingly, as Frank tilted his head in concern.

"C'mon, Mel, I know you better than that. You start every morning by singing in the shower, and I haven't heard you sing in a whole week now. You always like a big breakfast, and lately I have to push you to eat even just a bit of toast. And today at work, I mean, you barely even glanced at me the whole time. You even sent Whitaker to help me with that motorcycle crash guy instead of helping yourself."

"I was busy," Mel sniffed, her hands still entwining. Frank scoffed.

"You were overseeing an epidermal suture, Mel, and you weren't even with the interns. Donnie had it covered just fine."

"I think we need to break up."

The words were out of her mouth in a tangled rush, shoved past her tongue before she could talk herself out of saying them. She had practiced saying them over and over again, to her bathroom mirror while she braided her hair in the mornings and to her windshield in the evenings when it was her turn to drive them home while Frank snored softly in her passenger seat. It didn't make it any easier.

"You— we— what?"

"I'm sorry, Frank, I didn't want to do this here but… we had to have this conversation sooner or later."

Mel turned to face him fully, her knuckles white as she twisted her fingers almost painfully together. She could barely meet his gaze. His eyes were darkened, wide with shock and blinking rapidly. Her stomach clenched at the horror, the despair contorting his handsome face.

"Um, no the fuck we don't," Frank sputtered, half laughing as if he was waiting for her to blurt out the missing punch line. When it didn't arrive, his brow furrowed and he raised a hand to rub roughly against the back of his neck. "W-what do you mean, Mel, why would we have to… why is this a conversation we had to have, why on earth would we need to break up?"

Mel's eyes began to well with tears. She forced herself to hold Frank's gaze steadily: he deserved directness, at least. "Adam's family is moving. To Seattle. I guess his grandparents need some more support around the house so his parents bought the place next door. Adam is joining them so Becca, well, she's going with him of course." Frank stared at her, his brow still furrowed as he took this new information in. When he didn't look like he understood even in the slightest, Mel continued more pointedly. "I need to be near her, Frank. I'm… I'm moving too. To Seattle."

"To… Seattle," Frank repeated slowly. "As in… Washington? As in across the fucking country?"

"Well, yeah, I don't really know of another Seattle, Frank."

"Why… okay, so Becca is moving. That's… huge. But why does that mean you have to move?"

Mel was afraid the conversation would take this turn. She looked back down at her hands, twisting in discomfort at her hips, and tried to remember the bulleted list of reasons she was supposed to throw his way. Frank had crossed his arms, his legs widening in the defensive posture she was used to seeing whenever he had to defend himself to Robby at work. He had never faced her like that before— she had a bad feeling their first fight was imminent. She tried to push down the hope that maybe if they fought, it would make it easier for her to say goodbye.

"I need to stay near her," she reiterated carefully. "She's… we're used to being near one another, I mean we've never lived further than a few minutes apart since birth. I couldn't— she wouldn't be comfortable living so far away from me."

"She wouldn't be comfortable with that, or you wouldn't?" he pressed, his mouth drawing into a thin line. Mel felt the baby hairs on the back of her neck pickle with annoyance at the slow purpose of his tone.

"Neither of us would be!" she snapped, a touch sharper than she meant to. When Frank arched an eyebrow she sucked in a slow, steadying breath. "She asked me to come, Frank. Her and Adam both did, and his parents agreed that it would be a good idea for me to join them. They're moving in with Adam's grandparents so Becca and Adam will be living alone in that big house next door. It'll be a big change for them, and having someone who can help around the house and get them adjusted to the new place would be helpful."

"Okay, so you move out there for what, six months? Enough to get them settled in and comfortable, help out with the grandparents for awhile, that sort of thing— and then you come back home to me, right?"

Mel stared furiously down at her hands, running her thumb over her knuckles in lieu of tearing at the skin around her nails— a bad habit she had been fighting to kick for the last several years. It had threatened to come back in full force over the last few weeks. Around their heads, the rain began to pour again. She felt the cool, heavy raindrops soak into the back of her scrubs and sighed, disentangling her hands to pull her braid over one shoulder and unravel it.

"I'm applying for a fellowship at Seattle Children's Hospital," she said so softly that her voice was almost whisked away by the sudden onslaught of rain. Frank blinked down at her, beads of water falling off the flutter of his dark lashes.

"You're… Mel. How long have you been planning this?"

The sharpness of his question made her flinch. She had gotten news of the move three weeks ago and had made her mind up to go within twenty-four hours. Within forty-eight hours, she had researched every fellowship opportunity she could possibly find and had settled on this one. All without ever once bringing it up to him. She had been so frightened of how he would react, of him trying to talk her out of it— exactly as he was doing now.

"Awhile," she admitted, shaking her head to loosen the last of her hair from the braid. The dampening waves hung over her slumped shoulders as she folded her arms around herself. "About three weeks. I wanted to be… certain about what I was doing before I told you. But I was going to tell you tonight, I promise. I just thought we might get back home first, not, y'know, stand out here in the rain and do it."

"You can't—" Frank cut himself off with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. His dark hair was beginning to stick to his head from the pelting rain. "You can't just not tell me these things, Mel, we're supposed to be a team. That's what partners means."

"I know, I know, I just… I was so afraid of you not being supportive," Mel said defensively, shifting on her feet as she hugged herself. Her voice raised over the sudden onslaught of rain. "I know this is sudden, but life changes so fast and I'm just… I'm just trying to make the best out of a scary situation here, Frank! This fellowship would be really good for me."

"I'm sure it would be, Mel, but there are loads of amazing fellowships here in Pittsburgh— here with me!"

"But Becca isn't here anymore!" Mel practically wailed, her eyes beginning to well with tears. She blinked them away and looked up towards the gray sky, determined to blame the sudden moisture on the rain. "She's— she's leaving, Frank, and I can't… I can't stand to lose her, I can't, so I have to leave too. Please, please try to understand this."

"Oh, I understand alright," Frank said, his words clipped with bitterness. "You can't chase your sister all over the world, Mel, it's not healthy for either of you. She's happy, she's living her own life for herself and you need to let her. I could understand you moving out there for a few months, but for what, years? Forever? It's not practical, Mel."

"Not practical?" Mel gasped, eyes flickering back over to him in shock. He arched his eyebrow at her again in that annoying "you know I'm right" look he gave her whenever they playfully fought over what to have for dinner, what to watch on movie night, which park to take his kids to that day. But this time, Mel was certain he couldn't be more wrong. Her fingernails dug into her ribcage. "I'm not stalking her, Franklin, I'm helping my family. My family begins and ends with her— or maybe you've forgotten that?"

"Franklin?" he laughed in disbelief, his eyes narrowing down at her. "I haven't forgotten that, Melissa, but maybe you've forgotten that Becca and Adam are engaged. Their family is huge, and you told me that a lot of them live out in Washington already. If Becca needs any support, she can find it within them just as easily as she can within you." Mel gritted her teeth and looked down at the puddle forming around her soggy sneakers. The tops of their heads were growing soaked with rain, but neither made a move to head inside. Frank softened almost immediately. "Just… don't apply for this fellowship, Mel. Stay out there a few months, get them settled in, and come back home to me. To us, here at the Pitt. We need you— I need you."

"You need me, or work needs me?" she asked, studying the raindrops rippling around her feet. Frank frowned.

"Um… both?"

Wrong answer. Mel held herself tightly and allowed a small glance upward to meet his eyes. It had taken her a long time to allow herself to feel loved by him. It wasn't that he didn't show it, but more so that she had gone without romantic love for so long that it was hard to accept what was right in front of her. Frank's eyes were brimming with tears, his frustration spilling over into fear as he remembered how stubborn she was.

"I love you, Frank," Mel whispered, carefully choosing her words even as her throat tightened around each one. "I'll always love you. It comes as naturally to me as… as breathing. But I know what's right for me. And Becca… she's all the family I have. Family always comes first for me."

"Am I not family?" Frank asked, just as carefully. Mel winced as if he had struck her.

"You… I want you to be. But we've only been dating one year and—"

"I consider you family," Frank pressed on, stepping closer to her. His tall, slender frame blocked out some of the pouring rain as the wind changed, the drops pounding against his back instead. Mel wiped the water from her face, allowing the first of her tears to fall as she bit back a sniffle. "You moved into my home, you care for my children… I want to build a life with you, Mel."

"Come with me then."

She had promised herself she wouldn't ask him that. It was an impossible request: his whole life was in Pittsburgh. His kids, his home, his dog, even Abby, who he was still close with— he had no family on the West Coast, and he would be starting work as an attending soon. He would only be moving to follow her, and deep down she knew she wasn't enough compared to everything he had here. He would never consider it.

But a deep, dark chasm of hurt still split inside of her when she watched him flinch, his face tightening with pity and regret.

"I… I can't, sweetheart, you know my life is here, I can't just… upend it all and move—"

"I know, I know," Mel said quickly, wiping the tears from her eyes. She wished the wind would change again and pelt her with rain to hide the tears from him. "You have too much to give up, it's not like you can take the kids away from Abby and move them with you. No, you have to stay. But… oh Frank, I still have to go."

Mel could see that Frank knew he was losing the fight. He stepped closer, his chest heaving with panic as his eyes raced over her face.

"There— there has to be another way. Even if you move, who knows how long you'll actually be out there and we can… we can do long distance! It'll be awkward but we'll find time—"

"We'll be in different time zones, honey," Mel sniffled softly. She had already thought it out, every single aspect of the move. She saw little to no chance of them working out a long term, long distance relationship with their lives being the way they were. "I… I want to try that, but I don't think it will last. We're both so busy, and I'll be splitting all my time between family and my fellowship— when will we ever have time to talk? For either of us to take time off to fly between? Maybe… maybe it's better if we just have a clean break?"

"No, no, no…" Frank murmured, the watery dam of his tears spilling over at last. Mel bit her lip to choke down a sob as she traced their path down his face. "Mel, baby, this can't be happening… are you sure? There has to be another option—"

"Maybe there is," Mel said, her arms hugging herself tightly again. "Maybe we'll figure it out, maybe it'll be easier than I think it is. But… Frank, I leave in three weeks. I already spoke to Robby about it earlier today; I had him write me a letter of recommendation for my fellowship. And I… I want to go. I want to see Washington, and at least try for this fellowship, and help Becca and Adam settle into their new life together. She's… we lost our parents, Frank. Your parents and your siblings are all alive and live nearby. Please, for my sake, imagine what it's like for me to have lost both parents and now… come close to losing Becca too. I can't go through this again."

She cried as she spoke, her voice low and watery as she gushed to him. Frank moved forward on instinct— she didn't notice how close he had grown until he was unraveling her arms from over her torso and sliding his hands around her instead. She melted into his chest, her hands weaving into the soaked fabric of his scrubs as she sobbed into his collarbone. He bent to nuzzle his nose into her neck, his own tears wetting her skin as he held her tightly.

"You're not losing her," he whispered, his hands rubbing soothing circles over her back. "She's just moving away. You have to let Becca start her own life too, Mel."

"She will," Mel sniffed, rubbing her runny nose and soaked eyes into his shoulder. "But I want to be there for the start of it. I'm sure I'll come home someday."

"Promise?" Frank choked. Mel felt the flutter of his wet eyelashes against her neck and sighed deeply into his embrace, grateful for the tight pressure of his arms around her back.

"Promise," she relented softly, her voice raw. "I… I can't see the future, honey, but I care for you so much. No matter what happens, we'll always be in each others lives in some capacity… right?"

"Right," Frank agreed, kissing her neck softly. She whimpered into his shoulder and buried her face even deeper into his shirt, breathing deeply as if to cement his scent to memory. The lingering fragrance of his vanilla and sandalwood aftershave from that morning; the familiar, comforting muskiness of his sweat from a full days work; the deep earthiness of the rain soaking his scrubs. "I… I'm trying to understand you here, Mel," he continued quietly. "I don't know if I agree with you right now, but maybe we can sit on this for awhile. I trust your judgment, but this is all so… so sudden."

"I know," Mel agreed, her eyes closing as she savored his scent in her nostrils and the pressure of his hands rubbing her back. "I'm sorry this all came out so suddenly… and I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner. I think I'm just so used to facing life alone that sometimes I forget I have someone to face it with now."

Frank whimpered into her skin, distraught. "We'll look at options together," he agreed, his voice suddenly more choked than before. "And even if you do end up staying out there for a long time… we'll figure it out. Somehow I just know we're the type of couple who finds their way back to one another in the end, Mel. I can just feel it."

Mel chuckled wetly into his shoulder, grateful for his optimistic words even if she struggled to believe them herself. They were silent for a long time after that, simply holding one another tightly in the downpouring rain. Mel hadn't felt this empty, this frustrated and confused and helpless, since her mother had passed away and left her and Becca all alone. Life usually did work out, but she knew it wasn't something as simple and comforting as fate or destiny: it was hard work and determination. Things she was very used to, and very frightened would not bring her and Frank back together again. She had no idea how to salvage a romantic relationship when the whole world seemed determined to keep them apart.

"What is the fellowship you're applying for?" Frank asked suddenly. Mel stiffed in his hold, still anxious he was mad at her for looking into fellowships elsewhere behind his back.

"It's an adolescent medicine fellowship," she said quietly, rocking a little in his arms. Frank moved instinctively with her until the two of them were rocking on their feet, swaying gently in the rain. "Very competitive. Only one open spot. I don't know why I'm even applying, I doubt I'll get it."

"You'll get it," Frank said immediately, his hand drifting down to rub firm circles into that spot in the middle of her spine that always twinged after a long day. "I'll write you a letter of recommendation too, if you want."

Mel pulled back until she could look up at him, her red-tinged eyes wide with shock. "You would… do that for me? Even after everything?"

Frank swallowed roughly, his own wet eyes wandering her face so slowly and so sadly that her heart ached. "Of course, sweetheart. It… hurts, but you would be amazing in that position. I can't imagine anyone better suited for it than you."

"Thank you," Mel whispered, rocking onto her tiptoes to brush her damp lips against his. He sank into the kiss, his body stooping over hers, but Mel turned her head away before the kiss could go on for too long. She had a bad feeling this might be one of the last nights they ever spent together, and her survival instincts were screaming at her to back away before their impending separation could break her heart any further. "I wish… it didn't have to be in Washington."

"Fucking Seattle," Frank scoffed, pulling a sudden laugh from Mel's tingling lips. "You better get used to this weather if you're moving out there."

Mel looked up at the sky, blinking as the steady deluge of rain washed over her face. She felt the cool water washing away her tears, easing the frown lines from her forehead as she stared up at the rolling storm clouds. She looked back at Frank to find that his eyes, as deeply pained as they were, had never left her.

"We'll figure it out," was all she could find it in herself to say. She offered him a weak smile, which he did not return. "You'll… be in my heart, always. And we can stay friends, maybe try long distance for awhile, but… I have to go."

"I know," Frank said, simply, even as his voice cracked. "I just wish you wouldn't make this sound like a goodbye, Mel. Like you said: we'll figure it out."

Mel was too choked up to speak. She blinked rapidly as fresh tears stung the corners of her eyes and nodded, feigning determination as Frank pulled her into another hug. She held him tight, savored the heavy thud of his heartbeat in sync with hers and the soft scratch of his fingernails against her scalp when he wove his trembling hand into her rain-dampened hair. And maybe this wasn't the end of her world as she knew it: maybe the life that she had worked so hard to build wasn't imploding around her as she held the love of her life in the rain and tried desperately not to cry.

Life had a funny way of working out. Maybe all they needed was some time.

_________ 40 years later _________

Mel pulled the handmade quilt around her thin frame tightly to ward of the crisp morning chill. She ran lightly shaking fingertips over the frayed edges of the colorful patchwork, reflecting quietly on the many months it took her to sew the scraps of fabric together into the neat patterns that draped her body now. Back then it had felt like an eternity; now it felt like the blink of an eye. She looked out over the front yard, the soft green grass sparkling with raindrops in the dim light of dawn. It had rained all night, but now the lush garden was covered in a fine mist. She leaned back in her wooden rocking chair and relished the familiar squeak of the old porch.

"Here we are," came a warm, age-worn voice at her back. She pulled her arms out from under the quilt, not even bothering to look back as she held her hands out instinctively. Frank placed the hot coffee in her outstretched hands; she knew without even looking that the drink would be the perfect shade of caramel, just as sweet as she liked it, nestled in her favorite mug. Her wedding ring sparkled in the early morning light as she accepted the drink— it matched the golden glow of the band on her husband's finger as he clutched his own coffee mug close to his chest and unsteadily moved to sit in the rocking chair at her side.

Frank and Mel had enjoyed almost 35 years of marriage together. Both wished it were longer. Their separation had not been easy on either of them, but they both agreed the wait was worth it.

Mel wrapped her fingers around the warm mug, relishing the heat as it seeped into her age-thinned skin. Frank leaned his cane against the porch railing before settling into the chair, wrapping his own quilt over his legs as he looked out over the yard. His back had gotten worse with age: he had started using a cane in his fifties. He was in his mid-seventies now and Mel knew that it wouldn't be long before she had to start pressing him to use a wheelchair more regularly, but her husband was stubborn. It would be a fight worth having, though.

"What a morning," Frank sighed, raising the mug to his lips with a slight tremble. Mel studied the age spots on his hand, the deepened wrinkles on his face detailing a long life filled with laughter. His hair had thinned and dulled with age, but he still sported a head full of dark gray hair peppered with white at his temples. Mel had spent the last three decades running her fingers though his hair every single night as they curled around one another in bed. Her own hair was almost completely white and as fine as silk. She had stopped cutting it quite some time ago, so now it fell down to her waist in waves of gray as pale as the dawn mist that settled over their front lawn. Every now and then she still spotted hints of her natural blonde in the mirror, bleached even lighter from her decades in the sun.

"I'm glad it stopped raining," Mel agreed, taking a sip of her own coffee. "At least we don't have to water the plants."

They had retired on the outskirts of Pittsburgh. Their home was surrounded by miles of fields and meadows, far from the hustle and bustle of the city they had spent most of their adult lives in. It was everything Mel had ever dreamed of as a child: rolling green hills, patches of wildflowers everywhere they looked, clean air and open skies above them. After a lifetime of service in healthcare it felt nice to wake with the sunrise and simply rock on her front porch, sipping coffee with the love of her life and watching the world come to life rather than rushing off to work.

"I love the way it smells after it rains," Frank sighed, rocking slowly at her side as he looked around their lush lawn. Somewhere in the tree at the corner of the yard a mourning dove began to coo. "You know, sweetheart, tomorrow is our wedding anniversary."

Mel looked over at him then, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she met his gaze. "I know, honey. Thirty-five years." Frank shook his head slowly, as if he still couldn't quite believe they were married even after all this time.

"Thirty-five years," he echoed softly. "Hell of a run, huh?"

"Oh, don't tell me you're trying to get rid of me already," Mel teased, wrinkling her nose at him. Frank laughed warmly.

"I wouldn't dream of it, baby. Not after all the work I put into getting you back the first time."

Mel sipped her sickly-sweet coffee and smiled at him over the rim of her mug. Despite the decades they had spent together, she still felt the subtle flutter of butterflies in her stomach whenever he looked at her with that gleam in his brilliant blue eyes.

Mel had lived in Seattle, Washington for five years. She and Frank had stayed a couple at first, by Frank's request, but ultimately it didn't work out just as Mel had feared it wouldn't. Late night calls were exhausting, early morning calls were slept through, and afternoon calls were nearly impossible with how busy they were. She broke things off after an awkward two months, though Frank never gave her a moment of peace regardless. She appreciated the steady stream of texts she had to look forward to whenever she finally had a free moment to check her phone.

She was accepted into the adolescent medicine fellowship a year after moving with her sister. The fellowship program lasted three years, and she stayed another year afterwards to work at that hospital. She was happy there— she had many friends and colleagues who looked up to her, she made a fair amount of money, and she relished living with her sister again. There was only one small problem, which made itself large in the years she spent away from Pittsburgh. Frank wasn't there.

They saw each other exactly once during her time away. Frank had begged her to let him visit more, but after his trip got pushed back a few times — first Penny got sick, then a storm blew through and flights were cancelled, then he hurt his back worse than before while lifting a patient and had to stay home to heal — Mel decided that it was better for them both if they stayed apart. But Becca invited him to her and Adam's wedding, so of course he came. He brought a date, someone he had recently started going out with, just to take the pressure off of his anxious ex-girlfriend. Mel had scrambled to find her own date and finally conceded to let a handsome doctor she worked with (who had been begging to take her out for months) accompany her to the wedding.

Of course, their dates didn't stop either of them from getting tipsy and hooking up after the wedding. Well, they blamed it on the alcohol but in reality they only had one glass of champagne a piece. Frank dragged his feet heading home and Mel spent the next several weeks crying herself to sleep. For awhile after that they barely spoke. Both of them refused to go on another date with the person they had brought to Becca's wedding, but both allowed the other to think they were still dating other people. It was easier that way, they secretly agreed.

But after five years of living in Seattle, Mel's fellowship was over and both of Adam's grandparents, who they had moved out there to take care of, had quietly passed away. Becca and Adam wanted to have their home all to themselves, and Mel was itching to head back to Pittsburgh. After many long months of deliberation, it was Becca who finally convinced Mel to move back. Mel had watched her sister grow in the last several years: she was more confident, more independent, and happier than ever before. Mel hated the miles that separated them, but she had already booked her plane ticket to visit them again before she even left.

She didn't tell Frank. He was still an attending at the Pitt and busier than ever. She simply found herself a job at a sister hospital and, one night shortly after moving back, showed up at his house. It was the same as she had left it. He hadn't gone on even a single date since Becca's wedding, three whole years ago. Neither had Mel.

They held one another for hours, barely speaking. Just hugging each other close, breathing in the warmth of shared body heat and savoring the nostalgia of their entangled limbs.

Frank proposed to her that very night. Mel turned him down, citing the many practical reasons they needed to spend more time together before making a decision like that. It had been five years and they had both changed so much. Frank agreed, then proposed to her again the next day. And the next. And the next. He proposed to her every day for six months, when she finally said yes on one random Monday afternoon. They were married that same weekend.

It was a simple courthouse wedding, practically an elopement. Mel didn't want the fuss of a big wedding, and Frank had already been there done that with Abby— all he cared about was matching rings on their fingers as soon as possible. The next day they held a small celebration for friends and family. Becca and Adam flew out last minute, Penny and Tanner presented Mel with bouquets of flowers they had stolen from their mother's garden, and even Abby showed up with her new husband Todd. Mel had thought that weekend would be the happiest of her life, but she was proved wrong. The actual happiest day of her life was a year later, when their daughter was born.

The screen door on their front porch squeaked and hit the side of the house was a resounding bang. Mel jumped in her rocking chair, pulled from her reminiscing as two frantic pairs of rain boots thundered behind her and down the steps.

"No running, it's wet out!" Frank called after the retreating feet, shaking his head and scoffing as the boys launched themselves into the front yard and immediately found a muddy puddle to leap into. "And stay out of the mud!"

Mel laughed as she watched her grandsons yell half-hearted acknowledgments at their grandfather even as they continued to splash in the muddy puddle. "I sense an afternoon bathtime in our future," she remarked, her eyes narrowing fondly as the twins kicked rainwater at one another.

"What ten-year-olds get up at the crack of dawn on summer vacation?" Frank grumbled to himself, though Mel didn't miss the twinkle in his eye as he watched the kids play. He liked to pretend to be a grumpy old man — he rather thought it suited him in his old age — but she knew if he was a decade or two younger he would be down there with them now, splashing away in the mud as he had with their daughter years ago. She sipped her cooling coffee wistfully, watching as the boys skipped around the yard and looked for worms. She was glad kids still did that even seventy-some years since she had been one.

"Oh, Dee called a little bit ago to check in. She says her 'n Laura are having a great time and can pick the kids back up this weekend," Mel said.

Their daughter Destiny was in her mid thirties now, since she came into their lives rather quickly after they had gotten married. She looked just like her dad, except for her wide hazel eyes— a feature of her mothers, though hers leaned more brown than Mel's did. She and Laura met when Destiny was an undergrad still, working her way towards a job in psychiatry. Frank and Mel had stepped in often to help raise their rambunctious grandkids while Destiny finished school and settled into her career. Her and Laura were busy on a cruise celebrating their anniversary now, so the kids were enjoying the start of summer vacation at their grandparent's house.

"About time— they've been eating us out of house and home. Y'know, no one offered to watch our kid when we wanted to celebrate our wedding anniversary," Frank scoffed, tucking the quilt a little tighter around his thin legs. Mel rolled her eyes at him.

"Abby babysat Dee when we celebrated our fifth anniversary, remember? When we were in Scotland for two weeks?"

"Oh, yeah. She did, huh?" The two were silent for a moment, just holding their coffee and watching the slowly rising sun. Abby had been an integral part of their lives for a long time; Mel had leaned on her experience a lot when she got pregnant. She had died in a car crash a little over a decade ago now. They kept part of her ashes in a little urn in their living room, on the mantle piece over the fireplace— Frank liked to put sprigs of lavender from the garden around it, since that had been Abby's favorite flower. It was just a few months ago now that they had received a call that Abby's widow, Todd, had passed away after a stroke. At their age, they were quite familiar with loss. Familiarity didn't ease the pain. "I told you my memory was going," Frank joked after a moment, just to ease the tight silence that had settled over them.

"Oh, don't say that," Mel laughed, though her heart squeezed uncomfortably. They both knew that Alzheimer's ran in his family. She reached out to take his hand in hers. He sank into the warmth, flashing her a comforting smile before a flash of movement caught his eye.

"Jackie, Freddie, you two left the door open!" he yelled, his voice projecting across the yard to the twins even as he chuckled. Their puppy raced across the wet grass, tongue lolling and eyes bright as he leapt towards the mud-streaked boys. They dissolved into giggles as the golden retriever puppy ran laps around their legs, attempting to tangle their limbs until they fell so he could clean the mud off their flushed faces. "Don't let Robby get too muddy, now, alright?"

As the kids giggled and yelled agreements, Mel shook her head and grinned. "I can't believe you named that damn dog Robby," she said, not for the first time.

"Hey, his name at the shelter was Robert— you tell me that dog doesn't look like a Robert," he laughed, eyes tracing the blur of golden fur around their damp grandchildren. Dee's wife Laura ran a dog rescue in Pittsburgh, so the King-Langdon household was rarely free of a dog or two.

"Robert, sure, but do you have to call him Robby?" Mel chuckled into her coffee as Frank shrugged. They missed their old attending something fierce. A small yelp sounded from across the lawn as Robby succeeded in knocking one of the boys over— Freddie doubled over in laughter as his brother Jackie rolled in the damp grass, clutching his knee dramatically while the puppy assaulted his face with kisses.

Dee had named both kids after her grandparents: Jackie was short for Jackson, named after Frank's father Jack Langdon. Freddie was short for Fredrick, named after Mel's father Dr. Fredrick King. Frank's dad had been a high school gym coach — in adulthood, Tanner had followed in his footsteps. Mel's father had worked in family medicine, which had inspired her to go into medicine herself. Both men had passed away long before their great-grandsons were born, but the boys loved hearing stories of the strong men they had been named after. Both kids sported matching golden hair and brilliant blue eyes.

"Better Robby than Muffin," Frank said, eyeing their fat, elderly cat as it wandered out of the open front door and approached Mel. Mel swatted Frank's arm playfully as she reached down, grunting under her breath as she hefted the graying calico into her arms.

"Don't worry Muffin, I love your name," Mel whispered, tickling under the cat's chin as she sleepily kneaded into Mel's quilt-covered lap.

"More like Muffin-top," Frank grinned, earning himself another swat from Mel's hand. Frank rubbed his arm and shot her an equally playful glare. "Hey, have you heard from our other grandchild lately? Or are they still too good to call their poor aging grandparents once in awhile?"

"Riley called yesterday," Mel scoffed, helping Muffin settle more comfortably into her lap. "You were out in the garden, I must've forgot to tell you. They're starting college in the fall, and guess what: they want to go into emergency medicine. Said they want to be just like us."

Mel's heart swelled with pride as she pictured Tanner's teenage child, all lanky and pimply and shaggy haired. She couldn't wait to see the doctor they would grow into. Frank, however, sighed.

"Did you tell them all the ways it would ruin their life? All the late nights and early mornings and heartbreak?"

"Yes. And I told them about the feeling of holding a newborn baby for the first time, of hugging someone after saving their spouse's life, of the adrenaline rush that comes from bringing someone back after they crash."

Frank nodded at her approvingly and reached out to stroke Muffin's pelt. "Good. They're very tenacious, that one. Gonna make a good doctor."

Mel smiled and covered Frank's hand with her own, giving it a little squeeze. Tanner had gone into local sports, had married his high school sweetheart, had one kid and settled down to coach high school football. Penny had never married and went on to become somewhat of a legend in local theater— at least once a year they traveled into the city to watch her lead some new play, many of which she had written herself. All their kids lived happy and fulfilling lives, and that was all a parent could hope for.

"Oh, don't forget Becca is coming over for dinner tomorrow night," Mel moved on thoughtfully. "She requests no fish."

"You make dinner with a fish that's ever so slightly gone off one time…" Frank said exasperatedly as Mel giggled and stroked his hand.

"You know she never forgets a thing," Mel teased, running circles into the sharp ridges of his knuckles.

"Becca still remembers that time thirty years ago when I dared put on Frosty the Snowman instead of Elf during our Christmas movie gathering," Frank laughed. "She has damn photographic memory or something."

Mel smiled up at him, her heart swelling as it always did when she thought of how lucky she was to have stumbled into his life; she never thought she would find someone who cared for Becca just as deeply as she did, but he loved her as dearly as if she was his own sister.

Many years ago Adam's parents had passed away and Frank was the first one to suggest the couple move in with them. While that worked for awhile, eventually their care needs grew to be more than Frank and Mel, an aging couple themselves, could handle on their own. Middle Hill had facilities for the elderly, so Becca and Adam had moved back there: the very place they had met. They said it felt more like home than any other place they had ever lived. Still, every Friday night their caregiver would drive them out of town to visit the King-Langdons for dinner— provided there was no fish involved.

There was another crash in the yard, followed swiftly by high-pitched laughter. Mel and Frank turned their heads towards the noise, groaning in tandem as they took in the sight of their wet, mud-covered grandchildren sitting in a rain puddle while Robby ran circles around them, yapping triumphantly.

"I'll bathe the kids if you take care of the dog," Mel sighed, though her eyes twinkled as she watched them wrestle with the muddy pup.

"Deal," Frank said immediately, squeezing her hand.

Mel's eyes wandered the lush, green yard as her memory drifted. When she was younger, she never would've believed she would end up here. The house of her dreams, the garden she had always wanted. Her eyes shifted over to Frank… dear, aging Frank… and took him in as tears of love dampened her lashes.

"Do you remember that night?" she asked softly, her voice cracking. "In the ambulance bay?"

"Letting that damn rain soak us to the bone?" Frank guessed, his eyes meeting hers warmly. "Of course, love. That was the worst night of my life."

"What about when Robby removed you from work?" Mel said, eyebrows raising in surprise. "Back then you always said that was the worst day of your life."

"Nah." Frank shook his head slowly, his hold on her frail hand tightening. "At least I met you that day. And it forced me to get help for a problem I didn't even want to admit that I had. No, the day you told me you were leaving was the worst day of my life. I felt like… like the whole world had come crashing down around me."

Mel looked down at their hands, entwined in her lap, and sighed lowly. "I'm sorry. That was a bad day for me too."

"Hey, I understand it now," Frank said, his other hand reaching over to cup her chin. He tilted her head up slowly, deliberately, until she met his eyes again. "It took me some time, but I know now you were just doing what you had to do. It was just… life. Getting in the way, as usual."

Mel cracked a smile as he grinned crookedly at her. Over forty years of knowing that goofy grin, of committing it to her memory, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. She tilted her head in his hand, savoring the warmth of his palm against her cheek.

"Life got in the way of a lot of things," she admitted, eyelashes fluttering as she stared up at him. "But I'm glad it didn't stay in the way of us. Things could have turned out so differently."

"But they didn't," Frank reminded her, rubbing his thumb over her cheek to ghost over the corner of her lips, trembling with emotion. "We wouldn't have let them, Mel. I told you we were meant for each other. No matter what, we were bound to come back home to one another."

Mel smiled, a touch tearfully, and tilted her head to press a kiss into his palm. There was a sharp giggle from the front yard.

"Ewww, Grandma and Grandpa are being in love again," Jackie laughed while Freddie pretended to gag. Robby was busying himself with chewing on Freddie's rain boot.

"Run along and play before I grab the garden hose and make it real wet out here!" Frank threatened, his voice warm as the kids shrieked in terror and disappeared with a streak of bubbling laughter. Mel watched them stumble around the yard, tripping over the dog and giggling, and smiled to herself. She rocked in her chair as Frank's hand slid from her face and grabbed his mug for another sip of coffee. Her cup had long since grown cold, but she mirrored him and took a sip anyways. It tasted of all the love he had put into making it, of all the love he had put into every aspect of their lives over the last several decades.

"I love you, Franklin Langdon," Mel sighed, squeezing his hand in her lap.

"Franklin King-Langdon," he corrected, flashing her a sideways smile. For just a moment, even under the wrinkles and gray hairs and age spots, she saw him in his youth again, his eyes as bright and his smile as wide as ever. "I love you, Melissa King."

"King-Langdon," she corrected right back, her voice dripping with adoration as she returned his smile.

She had no idea how many years the two of them had left together. Their lifelong profession of healthcare workers had left them both with no misunderstandings about what the future held. Mel was very comfortable with the idea of birth, life, and then death. A three-act play, each part an unstoppable sequence with no intermissions: simple logic. But life had a habit of taking twists and turns that no one could expect.

Mel ran her thumb over Frank's knuckles as he held her hand tightly. She looked out over the yard, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she watched her muddy grandsons chase the equally mud-streaked puppy in circles. The sun had broken over the misty horizon, bathing the early morning world in a soft amber glow. The air was crisp with the scent of rain, the ground releasing its soft, earthy perfume as Mel rocked slowly on the porch. As she looked around, she spotted tiny rainbows glinting the low dawn light, casting gentle prisms of color through the damp green grass.

And they were alive. They were together, hand in hand as they took in the life they had built together. Stooped and gray with age, yet with hearts as full and youthful as they day they met, oh so many years ago.

Turns out that life really did have a funny way of working out after all.