The Corner

“When are you coming home? We expected you a few days ago.”

“I had to stop over in New York. The new editor wanted to meet me and go over my notes.” I shivered, the cool fall air of New York City was a far cry from the acrid heat of Africa. “I’m flying out tomorrow night. I’ll be at your doorstep in National City just in time for a welcome back breakfast, Alex.”

“It’s been six months, Kara. Six months in war torn countries and escaping war lords. I’ve worried every damn day you’ve been gone.” Alex sighed, and I could almost picture her pacing around her apartment.

“I know. But I also know you had your buddies at the CIA tracking me, and a few pals from MI5.” I chuckled when I heard her huff. “It’s better I stop here and get acclimated to this ridiculous world of modern conveniences again. I took a forty five minute shower when I landed, used every drop of hot water in the entire hotel, and it was amazing.” I pulled my coat collar closer as I walked through the bustling streets, issuing polite smiles when I almost ran into someone. I also wasn’t used to people in mass quantities. “Can I call you later? I’m about to run into the lobby and go through security.”

“Fine. But call me later tonight.” Alex paused. “I missed you, Kara. A lot.”

I grinned. “I missed you too, Alex.” I hung up, tucking the shiny new phone into my battered messenger bag. I took a deep breath and looked up, feeling my heart drop ever so slightly as I walked down concrete steps and caught sight of the old tiles spelling out City Hall.

I’d almost missed it this year. The morbid anniversary I hid from everyone. The secret trips filled with business meeting lies, meetings with editors, or a random last minute project that always took me to New York City on this day every year, for the last ten years. I took a deep breath walking under the ancient tiles and gorgeous glass windows that poured light into the bowels of the city. I loved this station. It was old, beautiful and from a time the world forgot.

It was where we always met. Halfway between her apartment and mine. We’d always meet on Thursday nights, full of excitement to take the train one way or the other. Exploring the city in as we fell in love. Then it became almost every night for two years, our love growing with every train stop. I smiled at the memories of seeing her step off the train, looking around for me, finding me from across the platform and her face lighting up like Times Square when our eyes met. My heart always skipping a few beats when she stopped inches in front of me, whispering a soft hello. I was so in love with her, we were so in love. But like all magical things, the magic fades and the space grows, and soon I was sitting alone in my apartment on a Thursday night, crying with empty wine bottles scattered on the floor.

But this year, this year would be the last. I couldn’t keep putting myself through this year after year, hoping something in my heart would finally heal over. This would be the last time I came to City Hall Station, lingering in memories and searching for ghosts.

I stood under the skylights, staring at the way the midday sun bounced around, reflecting off the manganese glass blocks. The crowds of people milled around me, buried in phones or newspapers, doing their best to ignore each other. I stood for a moment, letting the stale air of the tunnel fill my nose. A thousand old memories poured into my heart, making it ache, adding onto the new aches and scars I’d acquired over the last six months. I clenched the strap of my bag, trying my best to not let the sadness overwhelm me.

I missed her. I missed her almost every day I woke up. She was the first one I’d ever fallen in love with, and I’d fallen hard. Young love is what everyone called it, young love that comes and goes with the wind. But it wasn’t young love. It was true love and I never forgot her. It didn’t matter I was twenty five when I met her, still a kid in the world finding my way, I loved her. She was it. She was everything I was searching for, and I let her consume me. Consume me whole.

I swallowed hard, tipping my head down as I fixed my glasses. It was time to move on. I was thirty five now, about to be thirty six and I wanted to stop spinning in an aimless direction. I wanted to find my anchor and rebuild my life. From the moment she broke my heart, I turned reckless. I cashed in a favor with James, begging him to slip my resume to an old friend of his at the New York Times and interview me for the war correspondence job. Luckily for me, no one else wanted the damn job and in two weeks, I was shoving my crap in boxes and shipping them to Midvale. I walked away from her and New York City with a duffle bag, a backpack, and a desire to feel numb. I didn’t want to feel the way my heart hurt every time it beat.

I sighed, moving to the platform as an approaching train rumbled in the distance. I did have a meeting with Cat Grant while she was in the city, doing the rounds for fashion week. She was the feisty Editor in Chief for Catco and I’d heard her name in passing when I was actually in the Times office. I never thought twice about her. She ran a fashion magazine, a far cry from exposing a government failure to protect human rights.

James had slipped her my resume two months ago after I woke up in a hospital in Berlin. He was pushing for me to take a desk job back in National City. I could go home to Alex, the rest of my friends and be a few hours away from my childhood home in Midvale. And for once in my life, home was something I craved. I missed my family and the stability it offered. The peace I needed to heal.

If I got the job at Catco, I’d be walking across the city to the Times and filing my immediate resignation. Africa had broken me, pushed me to the edge and left me wanting to stop spinning. It wasn’t just Africa. It was every inch of war torn countries I’d inhabited, doing my best to report to the rest of the world what was happening, pushing for aid and change.

I wanted nine to five, writing science and tech articles. I was done running and hiding from warlords, gunfire and sleeping with a helmet and flak jacket. I never wanted to see sand or mud again, and had seen enough spilled blood to last three lifetimes.

I swallowed hard as different memories started to surface, and craned my neck to look at the approaching train. I let out a slow breath as it squealed to a stop. I cleared my throat, chasing out the nerves and sudden wave of tears. I could already feel a long night in the future, one filled with little sleep and dark nightmares.

The train doors opened, allowing people to file out just as fast as more filed in. I smiled, letting the ones in a hurry go ahead. I took one step when I heard a voice. It was familiar, but sounded different. I furrowed my brow, straining to latch onto the voice, wondering if my memories were smashing with an overtired mind, creating phantom sounds. The voice spoke again, moving closer, forcing me to turn towards it.

I gasped, clenching the strap of my bag so tight, I swore it would’ve turned to dust if I had superpowers. She was smiling, talking on a phone, dressed like she’d slipped off the runway herself. The expensive dress hugged every curve I once knew so well. The dark blue material accentuated her pale skin, contrasting against the dark brown, almost black hair I adored when it was down, curling in waves around her shoulders. Her hair was up in a tight ponytail now, and she exuded a sense of power that made me shiver. I bit my lip, pushing down my heart, hoping I wouldn’t throw it up on the floor before me. I let out a slow, shaky breath and closed my eyes. God, she was still so beautiful.

When I opened them, I locked on bright green ones, staring at me as if I was a ghost. She dropped the phone away from her ear, her face blank but so full of emotion. Emotion only I could see in the little twitch of her eyebrow, and the slight frown on her face.

I gave her a sad smile, turning away to step onto the train. Ten years and the pain still hung deep in my heart. This was my sign. My proof I was right in letting go.

I kept my head down until I heard the doors close. I looked up to see her standing in the middle of the platform, standing stock still, staring at me. I tipped my head down, squeezing my eyes shut as the tears slipped free. I swiped them away with the back of my hand, whispering to no one. “Goodbye, Lena.”

XXXXXX

“Kara Danvers. War correspondent extraordinaire for the New York Times. Two Pulitzer Prizes, a Beckman, a Peabody and six invites to the White House Correspondents dinner.” Cat Grant peered over her glasses at me, squinting as she judged my outfit. We sat in a large office on the top floor of Catco’s east coast offices. The walls of glass left me feeling like I was flying. I was half distracted by the clouds and the strange sense of calm they offered, I almost missed Cat speaking until she gently cleared her throat, nodding for me to speak.

I tugged at the old, baggy sweater. “Yes ma’am.” I fidgeted under this woman’s gaze. I’d met warlords who scared me less than Cat Grant staring at the frayed edge of my sleeve.

“I don’t remember seeing you attend any White House dinner.” She set my resume down, cocking an eyebrow. “Too fancy for you?”

“No, Ms. Grant. I was usually across the continent when the invites were sent out. More often than not, I wouldn’t see until weeks after the dinner.” I shifted again, picking at the loose thread.

“James never mentioned you’d be so fidgety.” She waved a hand at me. “Why would a journalist with the credentials and awards want a job at my simple magazine?”

I shrugged. “Catco isn’t a simple magazine. It’s a modern publication that has a few million readers. I think you’ve beaten the Times once or twice in sales.” I pushed my glasses up. “I know my credentials, I know they speak volumes. I probably should be a professor over at Yale, regaling young students with stories of dodging bullets as I wrote hard hitting expose’s.” I sighed. “Truth is, I just want a desk by a window where I can write. Write about things that uplift the human spirit. I’m tired. I’m tired of blood, destruction, revealing the monsters of the world and having no one give two shits about it.” I paused, blushing as I looked wide eyed at Cat. “Um, sorry about the cursing.”

Cat smirked, waving her hand. “Don’t bother. Cursing is a sign of higher intelligence.” She lifted a thick manila packet, handing it over. “Your offer is inside. Full benefits, vacation time, sick time, 401k and your desk has the best view in National City.” She winked as I took the packet. “There’s a signing bonus inside, enough for you to buy a new sweater.”

I cradled the packet in both hands. “That’s it? That’s the interview?” I furrowed my brow, staring at the packet.

“Considering you’re one of the most regaled journalist in the country, and most of Europe, I don’t need to ask you vapid questions about if you like working in a team, do you mind working weekends and holidays when necessary.” Cat leaned back in her chair. “I’d be stupid not to hire you. I wanted to offer you the job the moment Mr. Olsen set your resume on my desk.”

I nodded, swallowing hard, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. “Thank you.”

She waved me off. “You start on Monday in the National City office. You’ll meet with Mr. Olsen and he’ll go over the different levels of our magazine. I will give you free reign for one month, find the niche you want to write and write it.”

I could only nod and pluck at my fraying sleeve. “Thank you.”

“One thank you will suffice.” Cat smirked. “All the appropriate paperwork will be filled out Monday.” She glanced at her expensive watch. “That’s all. I have another meeting in five minutes. If you’ll excuse me, Ms. Danvers.”

“Of course.” I stood, quickly grabbing my bag and shuffling backwards like an awkward fool. “Thank you again, Mrs. Grant.” I frowned when I caught the cocked eyebrow she threw my way. I waved and stumbled out of the office.

I let out a hard breath, running a hand through my hair. “God, even I embarrass myself.” I mumbled, walking towards the bank of elevators. I was thankful I was leaving in the morning and going home, well somewhere I hoped to call home. I’d only lived in Midvale and New York City before becoming a vagabond by choice. I’d never settle anywhere for more than a few weeks before I was onto the next story.

I stopped in front of the elevators, pulling out my phone to find somewhere to eat. I was starving and had a fierce craving for potstickers.

As I searched through the best restaurants in a three block radius, I heard the staccato of clicking heels off to my right. I turned slightly to catch the sight of red bottoms, smiling and shaking my head at the pure opulence. I’d never understand the draw of fancy expensive shoes where a quality pair of boots would do the same job. My eyes flickered up to shapely calves and I sighed, understanding a part of the draw. High heels made a woman’s legs pieces of art. I shook my head, shoving my phone in a pocket when the elevator dinged. It’d been far too long since I looked at woman, let alone her legs. I felt the slight blush cover my cheeks.

The doors slid open and as I took a step towards the car, I heard her voice.

“I’m here for a twelve thirty meeting with Mrs. Grant.”

My heart dropped to the floor. It couldn’t be. Why would it be? Kismet was an idea I didn’t believe in, but twice in a day?

I swallowed hard, turning to catch Lena standing at the front desk, ramrod straight and held up by those red bottomed shoes. I looked away as quickly as I could, rushing to the elevator as the doors closed, dropping my bag in the process.

“Shit.” I hissed the word out, sticking my leg in the doors to stop them as I scrambled for my bag. Please don’t see me, please don’t see me.

I grabbed the strap, yanking the old bag up, stumbling back into the elevator car as I heard the click clack of the fancy heels coming my way. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” I closed my eyes, clutching the bag to my chest as my heart forced it’s way up my throat.

As the doors dinged closed, I opened my eyes. She was standing right in front of me, her big green eyes staring in mine. Bright with a thousand questions as she furrowed her brows.

“Kara?” Her voice held the slightest tremble. I took a breath, her perfume invading the small elevator car and filling my nose, and stopping my heart cold.

I swallowed hard, frozen in my spot, staring back at the only woman I’ve loved with my entire soul for the last ten years, and let the doors close on her without saying a God damned thing.

XXXXX

National City – the next day

“Thanks for picking up the keys, Alex.”

“No problem.  I shoved them under the welcome mat. I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you there, I had a last minute operation.” Alex huffed.

“The trials and tribulations of an FBI special agent.” I grinned as I walked out of the elevator of my new apartment building. “Come over when you’re done. You can help me unpack.”

“Oh hell no. I lugged all that crap up there last weekend with mom. I’m not unpacking your underwear, Kara. No matter how much I love and miss you.”

“Fine. You can come over, sit and watch me unpack as long as you bring pizza.” I stopped in front of my door, crouching down to lift the corner of the welcome mat, smiling as I saw the single silver key looped around a unicorn keychain. I stood up, slipping the key in the lock and pushing the door open.

“Deal. I’ll call you when I’m on my way. I love you, sis.”

“Love you too, sis.” I hung up, dropping my bag by the door. I grinned at the loft. It was exactly like the pictures I saw during my two day layover in Berlin. Large floor to ceiling windows that poured sunlight into every corner. The loft had that industrial feel, exposed brick and steel dotting along the walls with warm neutral colors. It wasn’t huge, but it was big enough for me. I walked around, grinning at the brand new bed hidden behind a curtain. I could spot Eliza’s handiwork a mile away. She’d made the bed, flowery soft bedsheets, thick blankets and pillows that looked like slices of heaven. I sat on the edge, sighing as I looked at the stacks of boxes. Each one meticulously labeled in her and Alex’s handwriting. Everything I’d sent home over the last few weeks, and everything I’d abandoned ten years ago stacked around me. Ready to be unpacked and find it’s place in the world, much like me.

I sucked in a slow breath, peeling off the old ragged sweater I threw on this morning. National City was warmer than New York City and I welcomed the warmth and bright sun. Maybe the combo would chase away the weird feeling still lingering in my heart from yesterday.

I dreamt of her last night, like I knew I would. It didn’t take much for my mind to spark up long buried memories. I don’t remember what the dream was, only waking up crying and my heart pounding like I’d just run a marathon.

I tossed the sweater across the room and laid down, covering my face with my hands. It was all a sign. A sign to let go and start new. I had a new job, a new apartment, a new city to live in and I could let go of the past. I would let go of the past. I had to let go of the past. No matter how much I loved her, and only her, it was time. Yesterday was proof. Fate was showing it’s hand. She’d changed so much from the woman I fell in love with. The woman who favored baggy sweaters and comfy jeans with ratty sneakers, to the tailored expensive dresses and red bottomed shoes. Even if I didn’t chicken out and spoke to her instead of letting the doors close, we’d probably have nothing in common. Me standing there in the clothes I shoved into a dirty duffle bag, worn sweaters and tired boots that had seen every inch of this world. We were very different now.

I sighed, curling up into a ball on the bed. But she still wore the perfume I bought for her on our first anniversary.

XXXXX

“Winn, people are staring.” I patted his shoulders as he squeezed the life out of me.

He leaned back, blinking back tears. “I don’t care. I haven’t seen my best friend in over three years, never telling me that she was retiring from her super dangerous job only to get a new job in the same office I work at.” He grinned, hugging me again. “I’m going to hug the shit out of you, who cares what HR says.”

I sighed, gently pushing him back as the entire office stared at us and whispered. “Winn. Please.” I stepped out of his arms. “I don’t need office gossip on my first day.” I looked at my best friend, noticing the little changes in his face. The little strands of grey in his hair and the muscle he gained. I frowned, before clearing my throat and smiling again. I’d missed a lot over the last few years and suddenly felt out of place.

Winn chuckled, slugging my shoulder. “They’re whispering because you’re Kara Danvers. Award winning journalist.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re home, Kara.”

“Neither can I.” I clutched the strap on my bag. “Um, where’s my desk?” I began to grow nervous under the stares of the entire office.

Winn grabbed my elbow, guiding me down the hall. “Your office is this way.” He walked me to a decent sized office with windows facing out onto the city. I glanced at the door, my name on a placard next to it. Kara Danvers Lead Investigative Journalist

“Mrs. Grant doesn’t play around.” I whispered as I walked in, taking in the large desk and fancy computer on it.

“She doesn’t. But don’t worry, this was an empty office. You didn’t kick anyone out and the team knew someone was starting on Monday.” Winn grinned again. “My best friend, back with the crew. It’s been what? Ten years since you moved to New York City to finish your masters?”

I nodded, walking around the desk, running my fingers over the smooth glass top. “Almost twelve.” I glanced at him. “I finished the degree remotely.”

His smile fell. “I remember.” He paused. “You could’ve come home, after the…you know.” He shrugged. “Your family and friends were still here, she wasn’t everything.” His tone had a bite to it. I didn’t blame him. I never bothered to explain what happened. I just packed up and was on the next flight out to Thailand, leaving everyone in the dark.

I clenched my jaw, turning away from him. “She was a lot, Winn.” I crossed my arms, squinting out onto the city skyline in front of me. “That was the past. I’m here to start a future.”

I heard him sigh behind me. “If you ever want to talk, Kara.”

“I’ll bring the beer and cupcakes.” I looked over my shoulder smiling at him.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he pointed to the computer. “If you need help with that, I’m down the hall. I can get you right as rain in a second.” He opened the laptop, clicking it on. “I’ve set up your email and arranged your appointments for the next month. James is out on assignment in Vancouver. Some sort of telecommunications seminar Mrs. Grant wanted him at. Word is he might be promoted if this merger goes well.”

“Merger?”

Winn nodded, shaking the National City snow globe sitting next to a cup full of Cacto pens. “It’s still top secret, but a tech company has been in talks with Catco to merge and expand both companies. Something about cornering the market as the world becomes consumed by apps and smartphones.” Winn held the globe up to the windows, the sunlight reflecting off the fake plastic snowflakes. “I heard the CEO is a real stone cold ball buster. She could put Mrs. Grant to shame.” He set the globe down. “No one knows who the company is and won’t until the merger is successful.”

“Why don’t you just hack the email server and sneak a peek?” I cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

Winn winked at me. “Tried that two weeks ago, but the encryption is well beyond my scope. Whoever their IT guy is, he’s a genius I’d love to meet him.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll let you get to it, Kara. I need to meet the interns for orientation and give my presentation on internet protocol and safety. Real exciting stuff.”

I smiled, watching him half skip out of my office. I let out another breath, tugging on the new sweater I bought yesterday, and sat down at my desk to read the fifty emails already sitting in my inbox.

Ten emails in, I grew bored reading the rules and policies of Catco along with the random welcome to the team emails. I sat back, looking around the office, figuring out where to put my souvenirs. I should at least try to make this office mine, I had no intentions of going anywhere and I had two boxes full of oddities that would look better here than in a box on my floor.

I smiled, this was it. This was home. This was my office, my desk and my name on the door. No more running through jungles and deserts, writing notes on scraps of paper or sitting on roofs trying to snag any Wi-Fi signal I could. This was it. I was setting up roots. I could do this, I could start over and find my permanence here.

A wave of calm washed over me, chasing away the last few nerves I’d felt walking into the building this morning. Alex had laughed at me last night overtake out, commenting how I looked like a kid getting ready for the first day of school. “Kara, relax. You’re a prestigious journalist, one of the best in the country. People will be nervous to be in the same room as you, so relax. Own this.”

“Own this.” I nodded to the empty room and turned back to the emails, clicking open last week’s editorial meeting notes. My meeting with the editorial staff was later in the day, there I’d be shown the ropes and given my first assignment.

“Excuse me, Ms. Danvers?” A young blonde woman appeared at my door, nervous smile plastered on her face.

“Yeah, hi!” I stood up, wiping my hands on the brand new slacks. The feel of new crisp fabric helped me focus. It’d been a long time since I had any new clothes and the feel of stiff fabric centered me. “Welcome.” I blushed, tipping my head down to adjust my glasses.

“Welcome to Catco. I’m Eve, Mrs. Grant’s assistant. She sent me here with a message.” She held out a small piece of paper. “She has asked you make your way to this address and do an interview. It’s for an article on a up and coming biotech company opening a new branch in National City.”

I took the piece of paper, biting my bottom lip as I read the address. “Okay, um. Shouldn’t this go to the editorial staff? They assign the interviews and stories, right? I don’t want to step on any toes.”

Eve smiled. “Everyone has their assignments, you were the only free agent when this last minute schedule change occurred. Mrs. Grant was going to do the interview in person, but bad weather has her stuck on the east coast.” She nodded towards the paper. “You should leave know, the interview is due to start in twenty minutes.”

I nodded. “Yes, of course.” I grabbed my bag and a few Catco pens. “I can get there by taxi?”

Eve chuckled. “You can walk. The address is a coffee shop three blocks away. The Last Drop is very private and very quiet. Mrs. Grant usually does her most important interviews there.”

“Okay.” I stuffed the paper into my bag and rushed towards the elevators, thanking Eve as I slipped my bag over my head.

It took me fifteen minutes to walk to the coffee shop. I let out a shaky breath as I was shown to a table in the back. The staff was very familiar with Cat, welcoming me to the team as they handed me a menu with a glass of water.

I quickly ordered a mocha latte with extra mocha, before setting up my notebook and testing the pens. I shook my head as I laughed at my nerves. This was just another interview, nothing I hadn’t done before. I’d ask the few questions about the topics Eve sent to my phone as I walked over. I’d then craft the answers into a decent article about this biotech company and their mission, their goals in National City and the number of jobs they’d be providing the citizens. Simple, easy, I could do it in my sleep.

I glanced at my watch as the waiter dropped off my giant mocha. I still had five more minutes. I wrapped my hands around the mug, sighing as the warmth chased away the last few threads of nerves. Taking a sip, I closed my eyes at the rich chocolate taste. It’d been a long time since I had anything rich and decadent.

“Kismet.”

I opened my eyes, startled by someone interrupting my daydream of chocolate and coffee. Lena stood in front of me, dressed in a grey suit and those heels, her hair pulled back into a professional ponytail. I swallowed hard, clutching the mug so hard, the heat began to sting my palm.

Shit.

Kismet was right. And kismet was a bastard.

XXXX

An awkward silence hovered around us until she pulled out a chair and sat down. “When Cat told me she was sending someone in her place, I never in a million years expected this. Especially after the last time our paths happened to cross.”

“I, uh.” I set the mug down, turning to my bag to catch my breath for a moment. “Mrs. Grant is stuck on the east coast.”

“I know. She called me an hour ago, told me she was sending her best to interview me.” She looked me over with those big green eyes that once held my entire world. “It’s been a minute, Kara.”

I clenched my jaw, reaching for my notepad. “We should get started.” I flipped a page. “What’s the name of the biotech company? It wasn’t included in the notes from Mrs. Grant.”

Lena dug into her purse, setting a thin manila envelope on the table between us. “Cridhe Tech. All of the standard details are in the press packet.” She glanced at my coffee. “Still drinking a little coffee with your sugar?” She smiled.

I frowned. “It’s the first coffee I’ve had in a month.” I bit my bottom lip, fighting the shakes that wanted to rattle up from my feet to my hands. God, she was still beautiful, even more after ten years. She was nothing but sharp angles and curves, aging like a fine scotch. “Cridhe Tech? I thought you were destined for the family business? Lex Corp and Luthor Industries.” I pushed my glasses up, hating the way her perfume swarmed me. Her family was the main reason why our relationship went to shit. I was never good enough for her mother, never proper enough, and in the end, I wasn’t enough for Lena. It didn’t matter how much I loved her, I couldn’t stack up to a rich family and their ridiculous expectations of their daughter.

“There was a falling out. I ventured out on my own after New York.” Lena paused, her jaw twitching as she looked at the baristas chatting by the espresso machines. “I wanted to do more than world domination and weapons development. Cridhe Tech is a future forward company. Focused on affordable medical advancements as well as environmentally sound processes.” She nodded at the packet. “Our latest project is in there. I’ll be announcing it through your article and after the merger.”

My head shot up. “Merger? Catco?” Shit. Shit. Shit.

Lena nodded, humming a little. “It’s all explained in the packet. This interview is to put a human touch to Cridhe Tech. National City is a new start for the company and for me. Catco is a mutually beneficial merger financially, and it will give Cridhe Tech the appropriate exposure to show the world change is possible.” She paused. “How have you been, Kara? Last I heard, you were in Afghanistan, embedded with British Special Forces.” The air turned tense, thick.

“That was a year ago, Lena.” I flinched at the way her name rolled off my tongue.

“I know.” She half whispered the word, looking down at her hands. “Kara, I know I’m the last person you expected to see.”

I held up my hand. “Don’t. I’m not going to do this. It’s been ten years, Lena. Ten years.” I scooped up my notepad and the packet, my heart pounding as I was on the verge of breaking apart in front of her. “If I have any other questions, I’ll contact your office.” I stood up, grabbing my bag, half debating quitting this new job and moving back to Midvale. I could take over the Midvale Gazette and spend my days writing hard hitting exposes about the cherry festival.

I went to brush past her when a slim hand grabbed my forearm, stopping me. I glanced at Lena, staring up at me. Gone was the powerful woman I’d seen in the New York office and just now. It was my Lena. The Lena who always stole my sweatshirts and stole my pillow, because it was softer than hers.

“Kara. I know I don’t have a leg to stand on. But.” She paused, swallowing hard. “I have so much to tell you, so much to apologize for.” She tipped her head down. “It wasn’t your fault.”

I rolled my eyes, gently pulling my arm free. “I distinctly remember you yelling at me, it was all my fault. And maybe I carried that with me for five or so years, thinking it was my fault. I loved…” I shook my head. “No, I can’t do this.” I stepped away, hating the way she made my heartbeat even after all these years. “I’ll make sure to write a fair article, Lena. So, don’t worry. Our past won’t affect your future.” I smiled tightly, fixing my glasses as I turned to walk away, when I heard.

“It always you, Kara. It was only ever you.”

I gasped as my heart clenched in my chest, her words barely above a whisper. My heart begged for me to stop, turn and run to her, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I never forgot the pain of that night she broke my heart, a pain I carried for years. And no matter how much I loved her, or still might love her, I couldn’t. I had to let go.

I walked out of the coffee shop without looking back.

By the time I made it back to my apartment, I barely closed the door before I fell back against it, sliding to the floor as I began to cry, sobbing out the last ten years.

I was still very much in love with Lena Luthor.

Fucking kismet.