Owen ordered a beer for himself and a vodka tonic for Cristina, while she sat quietly at his side on the barstool next to him. He gave a cursory look around at everyone who was there. It was mainly the hospital staff, as it always was. It was also here that he had broken up with Emma, a couple of nights ago. He blew out a big breath, as he thought about it. He pushed the thought out of his mind and instead, tried to concentrate on his drinking companion on his right.

"You still won't admit it, will you?" he said, with a grin. "The reason why you wanted me married off to Emma?"

She shook her head, as she spoke. "I thought that she was going to give you what you wanted. The kids, the house in the suburbs, the family." Her voice softened at the end, as she spoke. "I thought that was what you wanted."

"Maybe you don't know what I want," he replied, staring into her dark eyes. He had to look away because he knew he would get lost in them. She always had that effect on him. Emma certainly did not have that effect on him. He knew he was only trying with Emma because that was what Cristina had asked him to do, months ago, on that fateful day in the elevator. She told him to try and he certainly did try with Emma.

Cristina gave him a quizzical look. She didn't know what to think, any more. The reason she and Owen had broken up was because of their disagreement on having kids. He wanted and she had not. She sighed, loudly, and took a sip of her vodka tonic. They both sat there in silence.

"It's not like I didn't try with Emma," he finally said, breaking the silence between them. "I did try a whole lot. It was just that I couldn't feel the way about her that I should have. I mean, we had a few laughs and some good times but there was something I just couldn't get past. There was always someone else. Correction – there is someone else."

He stared at her, hoping to gauge her reaction to his declaration. It was obvious she should know it was her that he was talking about – as obvious as the fact that his eyes were blue. She looked at him, biting her lower lip.

"It's true that I don't want to think about you," she admitted. "It hurts to think about you." Her voice broke a little but she quickly tried to cover it up by taking another sip of her drink.

"Cristina," he whispered her name. He could see that her eyes were wet, as he put an arm around her. "Why don't we get out of here? Let's finish up our drinks and we could head back to the trailer and talk."

The mention of the trailer brought a smile to her face. "The trailer?" she replied. "Are you sure that we are just going to the trailer to talk? The last time we were at the trailer, there was more than talking going on."

He chuckled, before draining his beer bottle. "Come on," he said, helping her up from the bar stool. She, too, drank out the last bit of her vodka tonic.

It was a quiet drive to the trailer, as they both listened to the radio station that played a lot of eighties cover music. Owen was focused on driving the truck, when he felt her small hand reach over and squeeze his own. He took her hand into his and gently kissed it. It just felt good to be with each other, they both realized.

As they pulled up in front of the trailer, they both noticed that the door was open.

"Did you leave your door open before you left for work this morning?" she asked.

"No," Owen said, firmly. He distinctly remembered seeing the door closed, as he drove off that morning.

"Do you think that it is a burglar?" she asked. "I mean what kind of dumb burglar would come all of the way out here to steal stuff from your trailer."

"I don't think it is a burglar," Owen said. He had seen the edge of a car parked on the other side of the trailer. He knew whose car it was. It was Emma's. She had told him that she was going to pick up her stuff that day and that she was going to ask Meredith for the key. This was going to be awkward, he knew.

"Stay in the truck, Cristina," he said. "Let me check this out, first." Cristina did as he asked and stayed in the truck. He strode to the trailer with purpose. He hoped that there was not going to be a scene, especially with Cristina waiting in the truck. He stepped inside the trailer and saw Emma stuffing her clothes and toiletries into a bag.

"Hey," he said. She looked up and gave him a sharp look.

"Sorry," she said. "I thought I would have been out of here before you got home. I was going to come by earlier but I got caught up in the OR."

"It's okay," Owen said, softly. "Take your time."

"I will be out of your hair, soon enough," Emma said, stuffing a shampoo bottle into her bag. "I don't want to hang around, when I know that I am not wanted."

Her remark made Owen feel horrible about how it had ended between the two of them.

"I am so, so sorry, Emma," he said.

"Keep your apologies," she replied. "I really thought we had something, Owen. I thought that we had a future, together. You hurt me."

"Sorry," Owen said, as she passed him and stepped out of the trailer. Cristina gasped as she saw Emma. Owen stood at the trailer door and gave her an apologetic look. She nodded and mouthed that it was okay.

Emma threw her bag into the back seat of her car and started driving. As she pulled away, she looked up at the truck and saw the woman sitting in the passenger seat. It was an Asian woman with curly hair. She knew, immediately that it was Owen's ex-wife, Cristina. She knew it. She just knew it.

The truth had been staring at her, right from the beginning of their relationship, when he hadn't told her about his ex-wife. She had fooled herself into believing that he was over his ex-wife. If she had been honest with herself, there were always the signs that Owen was holding back, that he was not fully into their relationship. She had been so stupid, she thought, as she pounded her steering wheel. She was so angry at herself.

It was only after Emma drove away that Cristina emerged from the truck and walked up to the door of the trailer, where Owen stood.

"That must have been hard and awkward," she said, sympathetically.

"Yes, it was," Owen admitted. He let out a sigh, as he pulled her up into the trailer. They both took a seat on the sofa – the same sofa where they had sex, a couple of nights ago. It had been the catalyst for him breaking up with Emma.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Cristina asked. He firmly shook his head.

"Nope," he said. "That is not something I want to re-visit. Do you want something to drink?"

"Not really," she said, as she rested her head on his shoulder. "I just want to sit here with you."

"Me, too," he said, as he took her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. "I just want to be here with you, too."

They both sat in companionable silence.

A/N Just a short ficlet. I hope you enjoy it. Please leave your thoughts and comments. I do appreciate them.