Chapter Text
"Neal, I can't do this. I can't. I was married. I had a child. I don't wanna be anybody's second choice."
Christa's parting words as she walked away from him a week ago resonated in his mind as Neal stared blankly at the bowl of cereal he lazily put together for breakfast. His flat felt emptier when he was alone. Since then, it had been awkward going to work. To think that it would end just as soon as they were taking things a step further felt a little unfair.
Of course, Neal had to make sure that he wasn't kidding himself; that he sorted out whatever feelings he had and who they were for. It wasn't opportunistic that Grace returned when she did. Not that Neal blamed her, but it strained his growing relationship with Christa more than he would have preferred.
In frustration, he completely abandoned breakfast and tossed the contents of the bowl straight into the trash bin, rinsed the bowl and set it to dry on the rack before he grabbed his keys and jacket and left. He needed a drink. Neal later found himself settling in Hector's with a platter of chips and guacamole along with some tequila by himself before lunch.
By some twist of fate, Christa came through the door, and the two locked gazes when they took stock of one another. When Christa adjusted her hold on her bag and turned to leave, Neal rose to his feet immediately. "Christa, wait," he choked out. "We need to talk."
"There's nothing to talk about Neal," Christa reasoned as she turned back to face him, flashing him a smile. Neal's legs barely survived standing at seeing that across her face. At that point he knew where his loyalties laid.
"You're not second choice, Christa. Even when Grace came back, I never thought about getting back together with her," Neal explained swiftly as he moved up to her, outstretching a hand out.
Christa searched Neal's eyes for a while. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't relieved to hear that. Time away from him was torture for her, especially after everything they'd been through. Slowly, she grabbed hold of Neal's hand as they exchanged shy smiles, allowing herself to be pulled towards the table he occupied. As she set her things down and sat down across from him with their hands still joined, Christa struggled to find the right words. "Why didn't you tell me that last week?"
"Honestly? I thought you wouldn't have believed me."
Christa slowly nodded in agreement to this. "So... does she still mean anything to you?"
At this Neal shook his head as he pulled Christa's hand close and kissed the back of her hand. "Trust me, she doesn't. You're the only one I care about now Christa. What happened with me and Grace ended a long time ago. I want to build a future together with you, and no one else."
"Neal..."
Neal squeezed her hand gently before he gave her his ever charming smile. "Come on. You must be famished," he urged.
"Just a little bit. But really, tequila in the morning?" Christa reprimanded lightly when she took stock of the single glass' content.
"I couldn't help it, I was in a rut about all this, it practically shot down my routine outside work. Patching things up with you is quickly making me sober though, if it's any consolation."
"And here I thought you could hold your alcohol Doctor Hudson."
"I can. I just wanted to make it clear that I'm in the right state of mind else you'd think I'm babbling nonsense and you’d leave me again."
Christa’s eyes softened at that. “No, I don’t think I’d be leaving again now that I’m sure you’re over her. Besides… we’re both total train wrecks apart, if this week wasn’t any indication." A laugh escaped Christa after this. One that Neal never thought he'd hear again.
He handed her the menu, relieved that they were finally able to move past this roadblock that was his ex-girlfriend. Neal invited Christa back to his flat soonafter they were done. Their chemistry as soon as they stepped past the threshold was as magical and instantaneous as the first time they kissed in the hospital supplies room.
Their time apart fueled their feral needs of one another, their lovemaking becoming a bit more rough but all the more satisfying. In Neal's book, it was the best sex he's ever had to date.
They had fallen asleep throughout the afternoon, their energy depleted after adrenaline left their bodies.
What woke them in the early hours of the evening was a phone call.
Neal reached out for his iPhone.
"Who is it?" Christa asked sleepily, snuggling closer to him as she rested her head atop Neal's bare chest.
"Hang on. Finding that out now," Neal said hoarsely as he rubbed his eyes awake and brought the screen up to see the name registered.
It was his father.