Chapter 11
Brokenhearted. Terrified. Guilty. Jealous.
These are only a few things that Clarke Griffin is filled with, right now, as her tear-filled, blue eyes watch Lexa’s tall, slender figure disappear down the hallway of the Langham Hotel. As soon as Lexa is out of sight, Clarke breaks. She breaks, and her tired, and broken body falls backwards against the wall of her hotel room, and she slides down to the floor. She doesn’t care that hotel carpets are probably one of the grossest things on the planet. She doesn’t care that she left her room door wide open. She doesn’t care that it’s like two in the morning, and she is probably waking up all of her neighbors with her piercing sobs of anguish.
Her heart is broken. Not only for herself, but for Lexa too.
The look on Lexa’s face when she realized that Clarke was, indeed, not going to attend her wedding. With that one look, Clarke has never felt any lower than in that moment. She just can’t bring herself to go to that wedding. She loves Lexa. She’s in love with Lexa. So, going to the wedding of her love and another woman… well, that wasn’t really in her agenda, no matter how hurt they both are. What hurts even worse, is that she doesn’t know if they can come back from this. A decade of friendship, seemingly, flushed down the drain. She hurt Lexa, worse than she’s ever hurt anyone else in her entire life, but the thing is, Lexa hurt her too.
She kept getting mixed signals from her best friend. Signals that friends shouldn’t be getting from one another. Clarke knows, in the back of her mind, that she probably didn’t the exact same thing, but she just doesn’t understand why Lexa would pick Costia, of all people. She understands that, yeah, maybe Costia is different with Lexa. Maybe the first couple of months of their relationship was great, and Lexa just thought that she was in love with the young Miss Daniels. That’s a lot of ‘maybes’, but Clarke can’t help but think about the entire situation.
She doesn’t know how long that she sits there for, but she knows that it’s been quite a while, because her ass is numb from the uncomfortable floor and the position that she was sitting in. That’s the least of her worries though. Her eyes are swollen, and she’s sure that they are red from all of her crying, but she can’t bring herself to care. She has to go home now. She has to go back to New York without Lexa. Without her best friend. Without her love.
She has to go home, and try to forget about her feelings for Lexa Woods.
Clarke, eventually, pulls herself together enough to stand from the floor in her room, and shut the door. She makes her way into the bathroom and jumps into a steaming, hot shower, hoping that the scolding water will burn away all thoughts of green eyes and long, brown hair. Of years of laughter, and crying, and friendship. Of love.
She can’t stand this. She can’t stand feeling like she’s this weak human being that can’t go on in her life, without a certain person. It’s ridiculous, really, how much she has come to rely on Lexa for pretty much everything in her life. They talked about everything together. Work, family, jokes, heartache. Everything.
Like she thought, the shower didn’t much at all. When she pulled her weary body from the shower, she went into the bedroom, and if she wouldn’t have been in a hotel, where God knows what is in the bedsheets, she would have just plopped down onto the mattress naked. Not bothering to put on any clothes, but since she is, in fact, in a hotel, she opts to throw on a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top. Her eyes close, but sleep never finds her. Of course, it didn’t. That would have been too easy, but alas, life is too cruel. Life does not work that way. Life, sometimes, just pretty much fucking sucks.
Hours pass by, and still no sleep comes to Clarke. She grabs her cellphone from the nightstand beside her bed, and ignores whatever notifications that she may or may not have, going straight to her airline app to book the next flight out. Just thinking about it, breaks her heart even more. The shattered pieces of it sink down into the deepest pits of her stomach, making her feel physically sick.
Once she has her flight booked, she throws all of her clothes back into her bags, throws on a bra, and a pair of blue jeans, opting to keep the same tank top on, and pulls her hair back before exiting the room.
Checking out took way too long, in her opinion. She was hoping and praying that she would not run into Lexa or Costia in the hotel lobby. That wouldn’t have been awkward at all.
The ride to O’Hare wasn’t too bad. Clarke had the hustle and bustle of the city, through the windows, to keep her mind busy, and away from the dark thoughts that have littered her mind for the past few hours. The airport, although the city was bustling with life, wasn’t all too packed. She made it through security and check-in fairly quickly, and her plane was boarding when she arrived at her terminal. Good. No time to wait around and think. Once she was on the plane, she slung a pair of headphones over her ears, and cranked up the volume to her iPod. She would drown out any thoughts and feelings that she seemed to have, and she would most definitely not think about those green eyes.
//
As is was for Clarke, so it was for Lexa. The brunette didn’t sleep a wink the entire night, and she was sure that she didn’t stop crying, not once. How is that even possible? Do you, eventually, just dry up and lose all ways of producing tears? Her green eyes are puffy and seem to take on a red color all on their own. She doesn’t care, though. Right now, she doesn’t care about anything. Well, there is one thing, and thanks to her ideocracy, that’s gone, too. This has to say something about her character. “I’m a terrible person.” She says out loud, to no one in particular, as she lies flat on her back on the floor of her hotel room. She didn’t even make it to the bed the previous night. Lexa had pretty much buried her head into the mini bar of her suite, and didn’t come out until she fell out.
She felt terrible. Not just because she was hungover as hell, and not just because she ran Clarke off, and probably out of her life for good. No. She felt even worse, because, within all of this madness, she’s actually supposed to get married today, and even though Costia has been a royal bitch, as of late, she doesn’t deserve this. Lexa has to come clean, and God, is she scared. Never, in a million years, did she ever expect to be one of those people that goes up to her fiancé, on the day of their wedding, to tell her that she has feelings for another woman. “I’m a terrible person.” She repeats, and groans when she finally opens her eyes, and the brightness of the room doesn’t help her massive migraine at all.
Lexa was wallowing. She’s never been one to wallow, and this made her feel even shittier. When she reaches to her side, not bothering to look, just feeling around for her phone, she doesn’t find it. She
grunts when she realizes that it’s not within her reach, and that she’s actually going to have to get up to find it, but before she can, there’s a knock on her door. Her heart leaps from her chest, and up into her throat. ‘Maybe it’s Clarke.’ She thinks, giving herself all of this false hope. She knows that it won’t come.
She sits up so quickly, she goes dizzy for a moment, and her head’s pounding is only intensified now. Lexa practically crawls to the door, when she hears another knock. She stands just before reaching it, and slings the door open quickly.
“Wow.” Her friend’s voice says. “You look like shit.”
Lexa groans, and turns around before falling face first into her bed. She hears the door shut, but she knows that she’s not lucky enough to have her just leave her be. “What do you want, Octavia?” Lexa growls, her voice muffled by the pillows of her bed.
“Are you seriously asking me that, Woods?” The shorter woman asks, and Lexa feels the bed dip beside her, but refuses to look her in the eye. She’s sure that Clarke has already filled their mutual friend in on everything that happened, only a few hours ago. “Shouldn’t you be up by now?” Octavia glances down at her watch. “You are getting married today, you know?”
A decent amount of time passes by, before Lexa actually replies to anything that Octavia has said. She, really, doesn’t know what to say. This is all so hard, and confusing, and she feels like everything that she’s doing, is fucking up everyone’s life. “I’m not.” She finally replies, exhaling loudly in the process, and there’s a bit more silence for Octavia acknowledges that she’s heard her.
“You’re not getting up?”
“I’m not getting married.” Lexa says, finally sitting up, but continuing to keep her eyes from meeting her friend’s.
“You’re not – what?” Octavia almost yells in confusion. She moves closer to Lexa and forces her to look at her. “What do you mean you’re not getting married, Lexa?”
“It means exactly what it sounds like.”
“Don’t be an ass.” Octavia bites back, not scared of her friend’s attitude, even though it is weird for Lexa to get an attitude with anyone. It’s not really her style. Something is wrong. “You’re breaking it off with Costia?” She tries to keep her voice calm, and not show how excited she is to hear this. This is great news. Costia is a bitch, and this finally means that Lexa has acknowledged her feelings for Clarke.
“Yes.” Lexa finally answers, her voice more frail and hard to hear this time. She seems so small in this moment, and Octavia knows that there’s something else playing around in that brain of Lexa’s. “I’ve got to go find her.”
“You mean you haven’t done it, yet?” She asks and Lexa nods shyly. “Shit, Woods. Breaking it off the day of the wedding?”
“Would you prefer I do it the day after?” Lexa deadpans, and stands up from the bed, swaying as she tries to gain her composure enough to walk to the bathroom to wash her face. She hears footsteps behind her, and knows that she’s not alone. “I’m not in love with her.” Lexa finally huffs, turning on the faucet and splashing her face with the cool water that flows freely from there.
“I know.” Octavia replies, laying a reassuring hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Have you told Clarke yet?” At this question, Octavia feels Lexa’s body tense under her grip, but doesn’t really think anything about it at the moment. Lexa realizes that, no… Clarke hasn’t spoken with Octavia.
“I only came to this conclusion in the middle of the night.” Lexa says, as if Octavia should have known that without her having to tell her. “And no,” She exhales, she was hoping to avoid this all together, but she knew that it was a longshot. “Clarke doesn’t know, because I fucked up. She told me last night that she wasn’t coming to the wedding today.”
“What?” Octavia exclaims. “What happened? What did you do?”
“What didn’t I do?” Lexa retorts. “I’ve been sending her all of these damn mixed signals. I left her apartment without telling her ‘goodbye’. I’ve been hiding my feelings from her for – forever. I acted like I wasn’t in love with her for years, just so I could continue to be her friend. To be in her life in some way. I attacked some woman, at the club last night, who had her hands all over Clarke, and Clarke called me out for being
jealous, and –“
“You what?”
Lexa tries to avoid her friend’s eyes, but naturally, she makes her look. “Clarke and this Niylah chick were making out pretty heavily last night.” Lexa shrugs. “Niylah was being rough and too handsy, so I pushed her off of Clarke. She swung at me, and busted my lip.”
“Ahh – so that’s where that came from.” Octavia says, pointing to Lexa’s bottom lip, and Lexa rolls her red eyes.
“So, I swung back and knocked her ass down, and then Clarke was tugging me out the exit.” Lexa sighs. “She was furious at first. Telling me that I had no right to do that. I couldn’t just decide to be jealous, and because I was getting married today. I apologized, but I refused to admit that I was jealous. We walked back to her room and I told her that I would see her today, and she said that she thought it would be best if she just went home. Back to New York.” Lexa is crying now, again, and she doesn’t care. She just doesn’t understand how she’s able to still produce tears. “I – I fucked it up, O. I fu – I ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me, because I was too scared to tell her how I really felt.”
Octavia brings Lexa into her arms, holding her tightly, and letting her friend cry as much as she wanted to. This was both her and Clarke’s fault. Not just Lexa’s. Clarke had hidden her feelings, as well, but Octavia knows that it’s not any of her business to tell Lexa that. Clarke would kill her.
She doesn’t know how long they stand there for, but she holds Lexa for quite a while, rubbing soothing circles into the brunette’s back until her tears finally subsided. Lexa, eventually, pulls away and wipes at her eyes and face, before turning around and washing her face again. She then starts to apply a small amount of make-up, and pulls her hair back, out of her face. Octavia starts to walk off, because she thinks that Lexa won’t say anything else to her, but then her friend’s voice fills the silence once more. “I’m meeting Costia in an hour at the venue.” Lexa says. “I told her that we had to talk.” Lexa shakes her head like she’s terrified to do this, but she knows that she should. She has to. “I would – could you please come with me? You don’t have to be there for the talk. This is something I should do on my own, but I could really use a friend there. Will you ride with me?”
“Of course.” Octavia answers with a sad smile. “Have you – are you going to tell Clarke?” Lexa looks at her with a quizzical look, even though she’s pretty sure she knows what her friend is asking. “That you’re calling off the wedding?”
“No.” Lexa answers immediately, shaking her head to mirror her answer. “She said that she needs time away from me, and that’s what I’m going to give her. It’s what she asked of me, and I’m begging you not to say anything to her. Don’t tell her about this unless she just asks. I will talk to her.” Lexa says, even though she’s not entirely sure when she could do this. Clarke doesn’t want to see her. “Eventually.”
//
“Holy shit.” Lexa breathes out, and leans over to where her hands are resting on her knees. She’s standing at the tree line of the venue where she and Costia are to be married in just a few, short hours. Octavia, being the good friend that she is, is with her trying to keep her calm for her chat with Costia, but it’s not going so well. “Holy shit.” Lexa repeats herself, and stands back up, only to throw both hands on top of her head. “I – I’m freaking out.”
Octavia tried, she really did, but she accidentally let a small chuckle escape her lips. Lexa looks like a hot mess, and Lexa never looks like a mess. She’s usually the epitome of grace and composure, so seeing her this way is actually quite amusing. “Ya think?” Octavia asks, and Lexa swats at her but misses. “Just calm down, Woods. You’ve got this.” The shorter woman adds and a hand onto Lexa’s shoulder. “This is something that has to be done, and you can’t really put it off any longer. I mean, shit – “ She looks down at her watch and then back to Lexa. “The wedding is supposed to be at six.”
“I know, I know.” Lexa replies. “It’s just this –“ She waves her arm around in the air at nothing in particular, but Octavia looks around anyway. There are huge white tents set up everywhere across the gardened area, and flowers are brightly colored and in full bloom. The whole area is gorgeous, and it’s clear that the Daniels’ spared no expense to this wedding, which is probably one of the reasons that Lexa is so terrified. “This is all a bit much. I mean, look at this.” She points around again. “This isn’t even my style. This was every bit of Costia’s doings. That should have been my first hint that I wasn’t supposed to marry her.”
Octavia only hums in response, because she really, really wants to tell Lexa what an idiot that she’s been, but she refrains from it. Not the time, nor the place. When Octavia chooses not to say anything else, Lexa takes that as her queue to leave. “Wish me luck.” Lexa says softly, tentatively taking steps towards the area where she’s supposed to meet Costia.
“Good luck.” Octavia smiles, and like that, Lexa is gone.
Her feet carry her without her mind really even thinking about it. She’s so lost in her own thoughts with everything that’s going on, that she’s basically a robot on auto-pilot right now. When she finds Costia, her fiancé is standing under one of the white tents that’s housing all of the flowers for the reception. There are several florists working around her, and most of them look terrified. Lexa can only guess that Costia has been on a rampage, already, this morning.
When Lexa approached her, Costia turns around and she can only see a hint of a smile cross Costia’s face. This should have been her second clue. Costia’s smile, however nonexistent that it may be, has never brought the intense feelings that Lexa feels when she sees Clarke smile. She shakes her head a bit and looks down at her feet, because she should not be thinking about Clarke right now. This is about Costia, and how Lexa is about to call off their wedding only hours before it’s supposed to happen.
Costia’s eyes scan over Lexa’s tired body. The taller woman is wearing ripped skinny jeans and a light hoodie with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. It looks like she just woke up, and walked out of her bed. “Lexa.” Costia says, and Lexa already knows that she’s about to fuss about her choice of attire. “You look tired. What’s wrong with you? And what the hell happened to your lip?” Costia asks as she approaches Lexa, her eyes scanning over Lexa’s face. Lexa had all but forgotten about her busted lip from the previous night. She had tried to push last night out of her head for good. She was truly hoping that it was just all one big, bad dream. Costia raises a brow, gesturing for Lexa to answer her questions, and Lexa lets out an audible sigh.
“A girl hit me last night at the club.”
“And why did a girl hit you?”
Lexa shrugs, not really wanting to get into this at all right now. “I was trying to stop her from being inappropriate.”
“Are you seriously going to be this vague with me, all day?”
“We need to talk.” Is all that Lexa says, ignoring Costia’s prodding, and taking her fiancé by her hand. “Come with me.” Lexa pulls at Costia gently, until the shorter woman follows her back towards the tree line of the property. Lexa can see that Costia is beyond irritated at this point, and she definitely has a right to be.
Costia crosses her arms in front of her chest, and pats her foot a couple of times, looking at Lexa knowingly. “Tell me that you’re not doing what I think that you’re doing.” Costia huffs, and the statement takes Lexa aback for sure. Lexa doesn’t answer at first. She doesn’t, honestly, know what to say. “Lexa. I’m talking to –“
“I can’t marry you.” Lexa blurts out before Costia can say anything further, but there is no look of shock on Costia’s face. She only tenses her jaw, and looks up at the sky for a moment before placing her gaze back on Lexa. “I’m so, so sorry, Costia – I just – I can’t do this.”
“Let me guess.” Costia starts. “This has everything to do with that pathetic excuse of a blonde friend that you have, huh?”
“Excuse me?” Lexa huffs. “You do not speak about Clarke like that. She is anything but pathetic, and yes… it has a lot to do with her, but mostly with me and you.” Lexa takes a step back, but keeps her eyes focused on Costia. “Look at us, Costia.” She gestures between them. “What happened to us? We used to have so much fun together, and then, you turned on me. What’s that about?”
“I didn’t turn on you, Lexa. You brought Clarke into our lives when she had no place being here.”
“She will always have a place in my life, whether you like it or not, Costia. She’s my best friend, and I –“ Lexa stops before saying anything else, because she knows that she would only stick her foot into her mouth.
“You what, Lexa?” Costia questions. “Tell me! Stop being a coward!” Lexa face falls at this, and she realizes then that Costia knows. She’s always known, and that’s why she hated Clarke so much.
“I love you, Costia.” Lexa says, her voice full of grief and apprehension. “But – I – I’m in love with Clarke.” Her shoulders sag and it hits her again how much of a horrible person that she’s been. Not only did she hurt herself and Clarke, but she drug Costia into this as well. “I’m so sorry. I – I thought that I was over her. I thought that I was over my more than friendly feelings for her, but I – I was wrong, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I drug you into this.”
There’s quite a few moments of silence, and Lexa almost speaks again, but Costia starts in first. “So, what?” She shrugs, her arms still folded at her chest. “What am I supposed to do now, Lexa? Call off the wedding hours before it’s supposed to happen?”
“Costia.” Lexa utters, and takes a step closer to her, carefully raising a hand and placing it on the shorter woman’s arm. “Just think about it. Do you really want to marry me? This isn’t what a relationship is supposed to be like. This isn’t what a marriage is supposed to be like, and I’m sorry that I waited this long to call it off.”
“How can you choose her over me?” Costia shouts, and Lexa has to look around to make sure that they aren’t drawing attention to themselves. “Clarke Griffin, Lexa? Really? What’s so special about her?” Costia is furious now, and Lexa has to step back again. “I’m – I –“ Costia looks around is if searching for her words. She can’t decide what she wants to say. She’s too angry. “I’m fucking crème brulee, Lexa! I’m Costia Daniels, and you settle for – for what? For Jello?”
Lexa runs her long fingers through her hair and lets out a half nervous, half sarcastic laugh at how ridiculous Costia sounds right now. “I’m not settling, Costia.” Lexa replies angrily. She hates how this woman talks about Clarke. “I happen to love Jello. I’m more comfortable with Jello than I am with crème brulee.” Lexa shrugs knowing that, she too, sounds ridiculous now. “I – I can – I just can’t do this, Costia. I’m in love with Clarke.” She repeats herself. “It’s not fair to you for me to marry you. Despite our arguments and differences, you deserve so much better than me.”
“You’re right.” Costia groans, and rubs her face with her hand. “You’re right. I do.” She starts saying, but she refuses to argue with Lexa anymore and turns to walk off.
“Where are you going, Cos?” Lexa asks, her voice almost betraying how emotional she is over this, even though that she knows that she and Costia aren’t meant for each other. Costia stops in her tracks and turns to
look at Lexa over her shoulder.
“Seeing as the wedding is supposed to be in like four five hours,” the other woman growls. “I have to go break the news to my parents that my fiancé decided to break it off last minute.”
“Costia.” Lexa breathes out and takes a step forward, but is halted when Costia raises a hand to stop her. “This is my fault.” Lexa says, and Costia doesn’t even try to hide her sarcastic laugh that she lets loose. “Let me go with you. I will tell them.”
“No, Lexa.” The shorter girl argues, lowering her hand and glaring at Lexa. If looks could kill… “Haven’t you done enough, already?” And with that, she’s gone. Disappearing from the tree line and out towards the hustle and bustle of the venue. Lexa is left alone. Alone in her thoughts. Alone in her regrets. Alone in her self-pity.
Alone.
And it’s all her fault.
//
Two weeks.
That’s how long that it’s been.
It’s been two weeks since Clarke left Chicago. Since she left Lexa. And it’s been the fucking hardest two weeks in her existence. Of this, she is sure. Clarke knows that she is just as much to blame as Lexa is. They were both wrong. They were both hot and cold, never allowing the truth of their feelings for each other to slip between the cracks that their hearts wore. Clarke should have told Lexa the truth. She knows that. Her only fear was making things awkward between them, and ruining their friendship, but now here she is. Standing in this damned gallery, one that Mr. Wallace owns, staring at a gorgeous painting, and lost in her thoughts of what could have been. She ruined her friendship anyways, and Lexa still doesn’t know Clarke’s true feelings.
She knows that this artist, this work, deserves her full attention, but regretfully she can’t give it. Her thoughts have been on nothing but Lexa for the past two weeks, and it’s got her on the cusp of insanity. She’s only received a couple of texts from Octavia since the time that she left. Clarke’s knows that her friend is busy getting back to work after all of the time that they had to take off for the wedding of Lexa and ‘she-who-shall-not-be-named’.
If Clarke is honest with herself, she hasn’t really wanted any kind of interaction with anyone. She’s only seen Wells twice in the past couple of weeks, and she is trying her hardest to keep all of her focus on her work. She’s visited so many galleries and openings in the past few days, and seen so many new works of art, and met so many great artists. It’s always great to find someone who is just as passionate about art as she is, even though that passion has been temporarily transferred to another object of her affection.
Clarke shakes her head, trying to rid herself of thoughts of green eyes and long brown hair. She turns her head from the canvas that she’s been staring at for far too long, and glances over her shoulder to see that Cage Wallace is preoccupied at the moment talking to another woman. Clarke rolls her eyes and then grabs her briefcase before sneaking out the door. She lets out a sigh of relief when she leaves, glad that she didn’t have to have another conversation with the repulsing man. She’s quite a ways away from her apartment, but she can’t bring herself to care about the distance. Clarke marches forwards, making slow, calculating steps towards her home. Normally, she would take a cab, but she wants to be around the crowds and the hustle of the outside world, because once she’s in her apartment – alone – her thoughts will linger on things that she knows that they shouldn’t.
It takes her almost an hour to reach her apartment. Her feet are killing her because of the heels that she was wearing, but she welcomes the pain with open arms. Pain has become a constant presence in her life as of late. She walks the three flights of stairs to her apartment, avoiding the elevator for the same reasons as before. As Clarke makes her way down the hallway, digging through her father’s old briefcase for her keys, she doesn’t notice the body sitting in the floor beside her front door. She hears the person stand from their position before she actually sees them. When Clarke lifts her blue eyes from her satchel, they are immediately met with the color she can’t seem to get out of her mind.
Green.
Clarke’s keys fall to the floor and she thinks that she might be sick. “Lexa…”