#plastiiics

shes so beautiful omg

      To say that things were AWKWARD between Mark and Lexie at the current moment would be the understatement of the year. She’d all but poured her heart out to him less than 24 hours ago. She didn’t EXPECT him to just toss Julia aside and come running back to her ––– no. He was a good man. He wouldn’t do that. What she really wanted was to get it off her chest. To let him know that she’d realized he was the one for her, and that she loved him, that she NEVER stopped, and that if he wanted her to... she’d be there. 

      But they were at work right now. They had to be PROFESSIONAL, even if it was rather difficult for her to look him in the eyes. As she made her way to the OR to scrub in on a surgery with him, she was going over talking points in her head of things to discuss other than her confession of undying love. Lexie rounded the corner into the almost empty hallway, on her way to scrub in when she ran into Mark, who was clearly doing the SAME thing. “Hey,” she said, wide eyed. “I uh –––––––.” ( saved by the bell ) Her pager broke the silence alerting her out of her trance. Glancing down she sighed to herself, snapping back into DOCTOR MODE. “It’s a 911 on a post op patient ––– can I be a little late? I’m sure Avery would be more than thrilled to cover for me,” she said.

She was selective, careful, had made him wait. She wanted to be sure they’d be together a while, and it had been a few months. He was the ultimate gentleman, never trying anything, never pushing it with her. She was grateful for that.

He was not. He slept with everyone before her. His reputation preceded him. It was intimidating. Would she be okay? Was she enough for him? What if she was awful when matched against his expectations? Her heart was racing. Maybe this was a bad idea.

She shifts against the pillow, repositions the sheets for the umpteenth time. She glances at the clock, hears his key in the door. She doesn’t even realize she’s holding her breath as he enters the bedroom, lit up by the fire in the fireplace and a few random candles. She’s glad for the darkness, he can’t see how red her cheeks are.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

She doesn’t know where it comes from, but it’s all she can manage. As his eyes darken, she knows she made the right decision and she relaxes. After all, it’s just Mark.

He’s pitching on the television in her hospital room, the Yankees are winning against the Rays, 10-2. The first time she’s allowed herself to watch him in ages. It’s so hard to see his handsome face so far away. It’s the ninth inning and she has a moment of I’ll call him, I’ll tell him after the game is over. But she can’t. What would she say? I just wanted you to know I delivered your son about the same time as your first pitch tonight? Somehow that doesn’t seem sufficient. Or right. Or fair. None of this is fair, she’s already realized. She’s alone, holding their son, and he’s living out his dreams in New York. Because she let him go without a fight. Without an explanation. Coward. Too afraid, too influenced by his agent to take a moment and tell him the truth. And now she bears a burden she’ll carry the rest of her life. Oh, the guilt.

But this boy’s face, his features, his little hands and toes. He’s a peanut now, but she knows he’ll grow big and strong like his father. He yawns and her heart soars. He’s beautiful. Mark should be here. What has she done?

And if she ever thought for a million years she’d be able to let go of him once this baby was born, she was dead wrong. Moving on from this man now will be impossible. He’ll always hold her heart.

A tear of defeat escapes as Mark throws his hands up in triumph at the last strike out. Her heart crumbles.

She goes to his practices, his games, and she loves every minute. She’s been a casual baseball fan, having grown up in Boston, and they fight playfully about his desire to play for the Yankees. She’s watch him anywhere, cheer for him. She prays every night he gets his chance in the big leagues. He deserves it. Works harder than anyone.

She’s lying in his bed, fully clothed, watching him sleep. On his side, hands tucked under his pillow, and he looks like a little boy. She’s so head over heels, and she knows it. She’s got it bad. She’s imaging him playing catch with a son, carrying a little girl on his shoulders around the park, both with his dirty blonde hair and those piercing blue orbs. He looks so peaceful right now, and she can’t sleep because she’s too overwhelmed.

She was never one to think about marriage, and babies, and white picket fences, but she can’t stop. Something about this man makes her daydream about the domestic things, the family things. White dresses and rings and flower girls. She had always intended on getting through her residency before she made any commitments, got too attached, but now she’s in her internship and if he asked, she’d say yes. He won’t, it’s been a month, but a girl can dream, right?

Lexie's heart was pounding as she held Parker's hand and they stepped off the plane and onto the jetway. She hadn't told Mark she was coming with Parker this time, had decided last minute to join the four-year-old on the trip. At the moment it had seemed romantic, spontaneous, but now she was terrified he wouldn't be please to see her. They'd been sharing custody of Parker since Mark's time in the hospital, Mark had him every other weekend, Thursday night through Sunday evening. She guided their son through the airport until she could see Mark waiting patiently outside the gate. Parker took off, his little backpack bouncing on his back as he ran to his father. Lexie watched Mark lean down with a huge grin, scooping up the child in his good arm tightly. She walked tentatively toward them, a soft, unsure smile on her face, her heart feeling like it might jump right out of her chest. They had been talking a little more each week, texting, as if they were trying to see if the spark was still there. If she hadn't thought it was, she wouldn't have taken the time off to join them. "Hi. I hope you don't mind that I came along too."

Lexie stepped into her quiet apartment, could hear the television playing in the small living room. She was growing tired of coming home to the nanny and Parker, as her weekend with Mark and Parker had made her wish for them as a family. Two days and she was having withdrawals from seeing his handsome face every morning, enjoying a cup of coffee and eggs with the man. She couldn't get used to him, would never get used to him. Her heart still fluttered exactly the way it did five years ago.

It was late, she hadn't expected to find much life, but something in her home felt different. She slowed her walk for a moment, assessing her surroundings. An overturned cup of tea, the liquid on the counter caught her eye, and something inside her knew something was wrong.

She sprinted to the living room, all the air rushing from her lungs. Dahlia was on the floor, unconscious, bleeding from a head wound. Lexie dropped to her side, felt for a pulse, immediately pulled out her phone from her jacket pocket as she ran to Parker's room, hoping the boy was fast asleep, unharmed.

The room was disheveled, his glass of water knocked from his night stand, his bed a wreck, the sheets all tangled. Panic flooded her veins, and her hands began to shake. She flipped on the light, looking for any sign of injury, but thankfully there was no blood she could find without touching anything. The window was open, the fire escape right outside. A cry left her lips as she dialed 911, trying to clearly tell the dispatcher what had happened. As soon as she hung up with the police, she dialed his number. It was the middle of the night, but she didn't care. She sobbed into the phone when he answered, collapsing onto the floor in the hallway.

         ❝ you look like you could use a drink. long night? ❞