Ebony

Her steps were nimble as she walked to the pergola. Her slight heels clacked uncomfortably on the pavement. All she wanted was to rewind back to that moment, that perfect moment.

Her second wedding had been all she could have hoped for and more. And Chase had been wonderful.

So amazingly wonderful.

And yet… here she was, a year later, hopelessly reminiscing about the future she could have lost.

Making her way, she had to have passed a dozen elderly couples meandering the gardens, admiring the flower beds. That could have been her and Chase.

She couldn't tell anymore. Since he had demanded to know whether she loved him when they had been in that electrifying proximity of lockdown, to the wild sex they had shared after, to her sliding the door shut as she left for the final time, she couldn't tell anything.

Except that she loved him.

Right?

Of course.

Maybe she was just bad at it all. At all the love stuff, whatever it meant. For all her humane tendencies and pretences, she was as empty as many of their patients families after an unavoidable death.

Or maybe she had just missed all her chances. Granted, it had arguably been a lost cause with her first husband. House… it could have worked. She hadn't tried hard enough.

But Chase…

The climax was all wrong. It was supposed to be in the many years they shared. Not that single perfect day. Oh God, she was screwed up.

She shook off her jacket, letting the crinkled dress she was wearing underneath show. It was white too, like that day, albeit shorter. A stray tear making its way down her face, she let the ebony curls framing her face fall over her shoulders.

Wiping the tear away, she bent down to pick a flower by her feet. White too. Ironic.

She could hear the echo of her voice and his in her head.

I do.

This time she didn't try to stop the tears from falling.

"Best time of my life." She choked out to the wildflowers.

They were all that would listen.

Because in spite of however much she wished it to be so, her perfect moment could never last.

Pulling her jet-black jacket back over her shoulders, she let her feet carry her back to the bus stop. As she walked an ebony strand of hair caught on the pergola and rippled in the wind. For the perfect memory.

A/N: So that's it. And by the review count, I'd say it was a pretty lame first House fic. Maybe I should stick to Castle.

In case it didn't make sense, the chapter titles were her hair colours. I came up with this idea that sounds good in theory that she changes her hair colour to change a part of herself when she leaves a man. I know she never changed her hair to black, but we never saw her after she and Chase divorced.

Anyway, a review would be nice. Or two. Feedback is always appreciated.