Every Other Day
Summary: He reflects on love never found, just like every other day. One-shot
He wakes up in the morning at five thirty, just like every other day, getting in the shower and dressing in his suit and tie. He grabs his briefcase that he had left in the study and puts everything in its place, just like every other day.
He walks out of the apartment complex in downtown New York, hailing a cab, and just like every other day, he lets the lady before him grab it and he hails another one. He gets in putting his suitcase at his side and rattles off the address of the office where he works.
And just like every other day on his way to the office, he passes a small boutique and reads the bright bold letters. Mary. And just like any other day he looks away and begins to remember.
Her coffee brown hair, her blue eyes, her blood red lips, especially after he kissed her. The smile she always wore when around him and how she looked up at him with such love and admiration.
He remembers when he first saw her. It was at Chilton, her first day, he was bugging her, he remembered watching her reaction vary from shock to disgust, two weeks later they were together. It didn't matter that two boys pined after her, one in her home town and the other at the school. Apparently they were in love and nothing could come between them.
He remembers Madeline's party. They were fighting, he had gone with Summer. He remembered dancing with her friend, all the while keeping his eyes on her. He had been a coward for never going up to her, for never telling her how he felt. They had gotten back together later that night, apparently they were in love.
He remembered her tutoring him for Trig, he understood the stupid subject more than she did. Trig was his thing, but he used it as an excuse to be closer to her. He befriended him to be closer to her, to watch her, to talk to her, laugh with her, smile with her; it had been a great honor back then to be able to sit at their table, to sit with her.
He remembered college, they all went to Yale, she studied journalism, he studied law as did he. He remembered her pregnancy scare; he was the first person she came to crying, saying that she was too young to be a mother, and how to tell him, that they were both too young. He remembered going out and buying the damn test and sitting with her as the line turned blue. She had hugged him and left, running into his arms.
He remembered graduation; he still had a picture of all three of them in their caps and gowns smiling. They were looking at each other while he looked at her. How they had gone off to dinner by themselves, leaving him behind with his family.
He and him had started their own practice out of college, They were still together, living in a two-bedroom flat in Manhattan, with a puppy named Carmel. She would come in at least twice a week to bring him lunch or go out.
He remembered helping him set up thousands of candles around the apartment for him to propose. She had gone to her mother's house for the day; her mother was pregnant and had trouble getting up from couches, so she said.
He remembered passing her as he walked out of the complex, how she smiled at him and asked how he was. He had choked on his words and nodded; she had laughed and smiled back at him, those bright blue eyes laughing at him teasingly. She had asked him if he knew what he had planned. He had shook his head and responded that they had watched TV and played poker all afternoon. She had rolled her eyes and bid him goodbye.
She had said yes, he remembered how both of them had smiles on their faces during their engagement period. How he would strut into the office, a smirk firmly in place, how she would blush every time she would leave his office.
He remembered the wedding, how he was best man, how virginal she looked walking down the aisle in a classic white dress, a small tiara pulling her curled coffee brown hair back beautifully, how he had to remind him to breathe, how a single tear had escaped both their eyes. And how he had to bite his tongue when the father said if any of you know a reason they shouldn't get married speak now or forever hold your peace. He liked seeing her happy.
She was happy with him, any idiot could see that. He could see it when they danced, when they whispered sweet nothings in each other's ear, how he would make her blush and how she would leave him completely speechless just with a bat of her eyelashes.
That was a year ago last week.
"Hey mister, we're here" The driver said jarring him out of thoughts just like every other day. He paid the man and got out of the taxi grabbing his briefcase and slamming the door closed. He walked to the door and stared at the classic black bold letters DuGray and Cho Law Offices. He opened the door and went into his office setting his briefcase down. He walked in and smiled, the silver band on his ring finger gleaming in the sun light.
"Hey Henry," Tristan said as he leaned up against the doorjamb.
"Rory wanted to know if you wanted to have dinner at our place tonight, we're sort of celebrating."
"Really, what's the occasion?"
"We're pregnant." He said with a big smile on his face.
Henry forced a smile on his face and stood up, "Congratulations, man!"
"Thanks, we're getting everyone together, her mom, Luke, their daughter Becky, Paris and Jess; even Madeline and Louise are going to be there with new boyfriends of the week."
"Well, count me in."
"Great." He turned and walked back into his office. Henry sat back down and put his head on his desk. And just like every other day he told himself that he really had to stop torturing himself like this. He really had to stop pining over his best friend's wife before it was too late and he did something stupid. He sighed and just like every other day he rubbed his eyes and got back to work. It could wait another day.
AN: I hoped you guys enjoyed that. I got the idea when passing a Mexican store called Mary and well, it was going to be Tristan looking back on things… but for some reason I wanted to do something different and Henry was the one looking back. I liked the way I wrote this. I'm very proud of the fact that I kept it short. I maybe repeated myself a bit too much, but it was for effect.
Anyways, as always leave your reviews!
P.S: Thanks to my beta Flynn, who had the task of looking up henrys last name! Thanks a bunch! And you're right, it was just one of those things where my muse dictated what I wrote.