"You came back." Ellen took the courage to finally speak through the dead air that sank in the room. She watched Patrick's face as his eyes flickered to her when she spoke then back down to the ground again. As if he felt ashamed.
"I did." Patrick replied quietly. He crossed his arms, leaning against the table. As if for him it was old times. He didn't even have to open his eyes to know Ellen would move closer, leaning against the side herself. She always did that. His eyes fell on her face, watching her struggle. She struggled for everything. Words to say, emotions to feel, actions to do. Her green eyes looked around, and she began to fiddle with her black strapped watch. Patrick knew her ticks still, like crazy. Even after being gone for 3 years.
"And what you expect some big homecoming from me?" Ellen spat out. Everything that has been bubbling for years spewed out of her mouth as if it was unlocked. Patrick whipped his head up at her tone, frowning. She looked scared to him, and Patrick knew this fear was causing hatred and insecurity. He looked into her wide eyes, and at her jittery palms. Ellen quickly looked away, squaring her jaw. Her tough girl attitude was showing, and she wasn't about to take shit from Patrick. He stepped closer to her, reaching out to touch her but stopping just above her hand. He couldn't anymore. He couldn't touch the soft pale hand before him. He didn't have that right. Patrick knew what was making her fears eat her alive, the one fear that caused it all. The fear of loosing him, and loosing herself in the process.
"I thought...I missed you. That's all I know." Patrick said in a soft, broken hearted voice. Ellen scoffed,
"That's all you know? You dropped everything for me? Years later? I don't want games Patrick. Can't you see? I was finally getting over you, you prick and then you show up here all dreamy and charming and I have no clue what to do." She hissed at him, turning to walk away from him. He was back and he was probably there to stay.
Ellen made her way out the door, pushing it open to see Shonda and the cast talking outside the donut truck.
"Ellen wait-" Patrick chased after her, holding her tote bag with script.
"Let me go Patrick! I don't need this right now!" Ellen hissed at him as she turned around. Patrick handed her the totebag.
"You forgot your script and bag." He said, turning away and back into the table read room. Everyone began to take notice of the two, whispering popped up. Camilla watched Ellen go off to her trailer and shook her head. She needed a friend right about now and that's exactly what Camilla would be.
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Patrick paced inside the reading room. What the hell was he thinking? It was painfully obvious that 3 years hadn't done anything for Ellen's feelings but bottled them up and shook so hard a volcano erupted. He put his hands in his jean pockets, turning to face the door as Shonda came in.
"I threw you out years ago. I can bring you back on my accord. I can try to smooth things over with her but she'll buck up. She has to work with you." Shonda said as she approached him. She took one look at him and could see all the worry in his body. It was sad, to see the pair she once knew as inseparable to be so broken.
"Thank you Shonda. I'm sorry I ruined the table read," Patrick began to apologize but Shonda interrupted him.
"Shshh Patrick come on. You know me. Don't apologize. We'll start tomorrow fresh. Go get settled in your trailer." She waved at him before walking off. The others began to fill the room again. Jessica came over and rubbed his shoulder.
"You know she doesn't hate you. Just give her time Patrick. You know that. She can't stay mad at someone she loves." She said, offering encouragement. Patrick looked down at Jessica, her blue eyes sparkling and her face smiling. She was always bright and happy on set, and it reminded him of years past. He gave a feeble smile,
"Thanks Jessica." Patrick squeezed her shoulder in return as he headed out of the room, knowing everyone would be talking about him and Ellen. He made his way outside to the trailer lot. Ellen had already made her way into hers which was conveniently next door to him. Like old times.
God what Patrick would do to have those back. He opened up the steel door of his trailer and stepped inside. It was well, a mess. He had boxes ontop of boxes and shelves half put together, clothes over a chair and food on the counter. Quickly Patrick went to put his food in the fridge, then slowly walked around to take note of everything in his trailer. He went into his bedroom, looking out the window. By chance it happened to face Ellen's window. He could see straight into her cozy trailer. It was beautiful. Patrick looked back at his mess then to her crisp and clean space and sighed. He could use her home warming skills. He rolled his eyes at himself. Her home warming skills?
Even as stupid as it sounded Patrick knew he was right. Ellen Pompeo had talent in housing.
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"So um hi roomie," Patrick teased as he extended his arm out to Ellen. She accepted graciously, giggling.
"Roomie." She repeated, finding it roll off her tongue. "Wait...we're neighbors too! You own the corner house. Dempsey!" Ellen pieced together where she knew his name from, and of course it was the lease that told her her neighbors. Patrick nodded, still shaking her hand. He chuckled, hearing her accent trickle out.
"Yeah. And are you, I heard it during our uh call backs but you're from New England?" Patrick asked, finally dropping her hand. He was entranced by the woman next to him in ways he couldn't describe. He felt his throat closing up and his palms sweating. This wasn't cool.
"Hmm, oh my accent? Boston born and raised? You caught me." Ellen laughed, leaning over to make sure her boxes were all labeled correctly. Patrick couldn't help but gaze at her as she bent over, his eyes darting between the firm fit of her belted jeans and how her long hair fell across her back as she unpacked her things. It was beautiful, her design and her placement, but Patrick couldn't keep his eyes off her for too long.
"I'm from Maine if you couldn't tell. It's refreshing to hear your accent to say the least. Eh I mean you know it's comforting." Patrick kept chatting nonchalantly as if he wasn't finding himself extremely attracted to his costar. Ellen turned as she stood up, throwing her arms around his neck. Patrick froze, then accepted the hug, breathing in her perfume.
"Maine? Oh that's great! I can't wait to work with you Patrick! You seem so amazing, and you know what I'll be back I have a few more boxes to bring in but it's okay." She said while leaving the room. In that moment Patrick felt the wind knocked out of him. Then he took a quick look at his watch on his hand, catching a glinting metal band on his ring finger. He was married. He was married and he was falling in love with Ellen.
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Patrick laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling of his trailer. He reminisced of all the times he and Ellen had laid there. The soft smell of a vanilla candle burning in the living room, wafting in, as they held hands looking up at the ceiling. They would contemplate life and love, them being secret to the world...everything. He took a deep breath. His room no longer smelled like vanilla. It smelt like old spice and his racing gear. He didn't have candles anywhere. Patrick closed his blue eyes, wishing he could wake up to a pair of curious green ones again.
