orthxbadass:

Callie’s   answering  smile  was  sad. “I   know  —-  trust   me, I
know.” And she did —- in   the   worst   of   ways.   Teddy   made
her feel safe in a time when she  felt   like   she   as   drowning
but   she   was   being   eaten   alive  with  guilt.  Her  wife   was
hundreds of  miles  away,  damaged,  broken,  lost  and  Callie
was     carrying   on    with   another   woman,    a   woman   that
happened to be Arizona’s best friend.

                    It  was  abhorrent,  disgraceful.  She  was  ashamed  of  herself
                    for   it,  but,  at  the  same  time,  she   wasn’t.  She’d  spend  the
                    last five years  building  her  life  around  Arizona  and  the blond
                    had just thrown it all  away  in  the  one way  that  hurt  Callie  the
                    most. Arizona  knew  how  she  felt  toward cheating,  she  knew
                    how hurt and destroyed she’d been  after  George had  cheated
                    on her and what she’d once felt for him  wasn’t anywhere  close
                    to the all-consuming love she had for her wife.

So,   she’d  pushed  her   guilt   aside   —   as   far   as   she  was
concerned, her  conscience  was  clean. Arizona  had destroyed
them, not her. And, yes, she  realized  her  wife  was  still reeling
from the loss of her leg  and still suffered from  PTSD,  but every
attempt Callie had  made  to  be  supportive  and understanding
had  been  spurned  and  thrown  back  in  her  face  with cutting
words.

                    “It’s not wrong,” Callie reassured, both  Teddy  and  herself, “You
                    were happy, but you’re not anymore. You’re never going to forget
                    him,  Teddy. But  doing  this — p u n i s h i n g  yourself every  day,
                    holding on to something that hurts you so  much, telling  yourself
                    that you  can’t  be  happy —  you  can’ t keep  doing  it.”  Her hand
                    cupped the blond’s cheek, thumbs stroking away her tears. “You
                    loved Henry, honey. I know you did —  and  he  loved  you. Do you
                    really think he would want you to suffer like this?”

To say that she was  l o s t  would be an understatement.
Having given her heart away to her dead husband, Teddy
didn’t  think  she’d  ever  be able to love again — so what
had that feeling been? It had been some sort of sanctuary,
letting    herself    be    held   after  so   many   months  of
abandonment. And the way she felt now,  f i r e  catching
upon  her  skin where Callie  had  touched  her;  it  had to
mean something — but what?

                   She was a disgrace. A widow with false  g r i e f ,  a
                    widow who loved on after she had  lost.  Her dreams
                    were not as they seemed when she’d been  h a p p y 
                    — now, her outlook was bleak. But something about
                    those   warm  eyes,  something about the gentle way
                    she spoke — Callie had set her  horizon   a b l a z e
                    for the very first time since Henry had died.

What was she to do?  Forsake her happiness for some
semblance of  d i g n i t y? Teddy had known sacrifice,
but never like this. Never had she faced a choice of her
past…  or  a  future.  As she claimed Callie’s gaze with
her own, the indecision still sang clearly upon her face.

                    “We didn’t get to have this conversation  before
                    he  died,”  Teddy  admitted,  voice shaking with
                    untold regrets. “It was all… it was all so sudden.
                    I know he’d have wanted me to be happy,  but  I
                    don’t know if he’d have wanted  this  —   I don’t
                    know  a n y t h i n g  anymore.