Life on Mars

*Eliza's POV*

I was just rounding the corner onto West 13th Street when my cell phone began ringing. I knew precisely who it was, so I didn’t even bother looking as I flipped it open and pressed it to my ear.

“Have you ditched me?” Aslan asked. I hadn’t even said hello.

I rolled my eyes and silently sighed. “I was tempted, but no,” I answered coolly. “I just turned onto the block. It doesn’t sound like you’re inside. What’s the story? Are you ditching me?”

“Psht, never. Don’t get your hopes up,” he chuckled. “I stepped outside to call you. It’s not like you to run late. And if you are running late, it usually means you aren’t planning to show up.”

“Well you’re stuck with me tonight,” I snorted. “You can blame yourself for that.”

He laughed again, the sound softly echoing in my opposite naked ear. I looked up, not at all surprised to see him standing directly in my line of sight. His back was to me, but I could clearly see his dark wash jeans and eggplant purple sweater.

“You always did look good in purple,” I commented quietly.

He quickly turned around and smiled broadly as he replied, “It’s the hair.”

“It’s not the hair,” I countered, smiling in return. Without another word I snapped my phone shut and continued to make my way towards him. Now that he was facing me I could see that the sweater was a cardigan, and he had a dark grey fitted t-shirt beneath it. He dropped his own cell phone to his side, waiting patiently for my approach.

When I finally reached him, he gave me the usual, thoughtful onceover. I could feel my heart thud just a little harder in my chest. “You look pretty,” he suddenly murmured.

I couldn’t help but grin as I responded, “Hmm. So do you.”

He let out a loud laugh, then held his hand out to offer his cell phone.

I frowned and let out a little huff. “Are we really going to resort to old habits?”

Aslan shrugged. “The word ‘resort’ would suggest that we had a different option at some point that didn’t work out. That’s not the case. And there’s no reason to mess with something good. I know that’s not your style, but it’s mine.”

I glared at him as I took his cell phone and replaced it with my own. Together, we powered one another’s phones off, and as I placed his in my purse, he slid mine into his pocket. “Is it gonna be like this all night?” I asked. “You making little digs at me like we’re still in fucking high school?”

“I can’t make any promises,” he confessed. “But I’ll try my best. As we just established, old habits do die hard.” He casually motioned to the entrance of Fig and Olive. “Ready to eat?”

“Ready to drink,” I corrected.

He smirked, stepping towards the door and pulling it open for me. I nodded gratefully as I stepped past him, then let him lead the way to the table he’d already claimed for the evening. A bottle of tempranillo wine sat in the center with two wine glasses hugging the sides.

I wasn’t happy about the cell phone swap. It was something we’d been doing ever since college, a way to give eachother our undivided attention. This way, the conversation was the priority, and we didn’t have to risk any interruptions. But I had to grudgingly admit to myself that it didn’t do any harm. I already knew that Jared was back in Los Angeles safe and sound, and there wasn’t anything else that required my immediate attention…

I watched as Aslan poured wine for the both of us, and it wasn’t until he was nearly finished that he finally spoke.

“I have a few things I’d like to talk to you about.”

I kept my eyes on his as we lifted our wine glasses, toasted silently to absolutely nothing, and took long sips of the burgundy liquid. When I was through I placed my wine glass back on the table but kept my fingers loosely wrapped around the stem.

“Do any of them involve my mother?” I asked as I dropped my chin into my hand.

“Yes, but that’s last on my list,” he admitted.

“Well let’s just get that one out of the way right now,” I sighed in exasperation. “She called and left me a voicemail, I didn’t call her back, and I have no intention of doing so at any point in the near future. And truth be told, even if I could bring myself to call her, I can’t bear doing two confrontations in the same week. So…here I am, with you, dealing with whatever it is you want to deal with. I’ve only got enough fight in me for one of you.”

He stared at me for a long moment without speaking, then slowly shook his head. “Lorelei should be that person, not me.”

“And yet…here I am,” I replied, gesturing to our surroundings with my free hand. “You didn’t leave me much of a choice, Aslan. Maybe you missed the memo, but you’ve always been persistent.”

“Yes and look at how much good that’s done me,” he shrugged passively. “Of all the people in the world I could’ve chosen, had choice ever been an option for me, I keep running into you, the uphill battle.”

“No one forced you,” I shrugged in return.

“You're right, no one forced me,” he agreed gently. “And our inability to see a choice when it comes to certain facets of our lives has been the biggest shared personality flaw we've ever had in common. If I ever thought that I had a choice when it came to you, I wouldn't have been so relentless in the first place. I would've gone for someone less...I don't know...impossible...”

I couldn’t keep the laugh from escaping my lips. Naturally, he looked angry the instant he heard it, but I spoke again before he could lash out at me. “I’m sorry, it’s just that Presley says the exact same thing about me, and I never told her that anyone had described me that way before.”

His face instantly softened. “That’s probably because Presley doesn’t even know I exist.”

“Possibly,” I relented. “But it’s better that way. She likes to try and decipher people, you know? Pick them apart, if you will. I don’t need anyone trying to figure me out.”

“So what does that mean?” He asked. “Does that mean that Jared Leto is just standing idly by and putting up with your shit without asking any questions?”

“Oh he asks questions…” I reassured him. “And speaking of questions…do we have a waiter?”

“I already placed our orders,” Aslan answered. “I told the waiter to put them in as soon as he saw the stunning blonde sit down with me.”

I cocked an eyebrow at him. “And what would you have done if I’d bailed?”

“Said fuck it and enjoyed two fantastic meals.”

We both laughed, and as the sound echoed throughout the restaurant, I felt a familiar feeling wash over me. Home.

****

The conversation grew casual after that. We both knew that we needed some time to warm up before getting into the serious content, so instead we regaled one another with stories of our lives. He told me about the continued puzzling challenge of raising a daughter alone and their entertaining travels together. He told me about the promotion he’d taken in San Francisco, and how he’d finally decided to purchase a home and create roots for both he and Callie. He also told me the story of how he and Charlie first met, and how he’d been trying to find time to visit him in New York for months. When the first opportunity presented itself, he took advantage of it.

In turn, I told him about work, the trip I’d taken to Morocco over the summer, and after much convincing on his part, the circumstances surrounding Presley and I meeting Shannon and Jared. I was honest about my initial reluctance to get involved with him, for the obvious reasons that only Aslan was mildly privy to.

Hours earlier, after discreetly seeing Jared off at the airport, I’d decided that he wouldn’t be a topic of conversation during dinner. But Aslan, in his very unique way, had always been able to coax information out of me. There were times I loved him for it and times I hated him for it. All of my attempts to ever keep information from him, whether it be in fear of hurting him or not, had been in vain. He’d always known when something was on my mind, and he’d always been able to get it out of me. I couldn’t be sure whether it was a gift or a curse, because many of those confrontations resulted in screaming matches.

As I looked into his cat-like yellow eyes, I was reminded of all the things that had drawn me to him since I was eight. I didn’t have the slightest clue what love was supposed to feel like back then, but I knew that what I felt for him would forever be unmatched. A little piece of my heart would always be set aside for him and him alone. I couldn’t do anything to change that.

I could still remember my panic the night of our first date. I could still remember how dizzy I got the first time he kissed me. I could still remember how I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest the first time he told me he loved me. I could still remember the first time we made love, and how I believed I would never let anyone touch me like that for the rest of my life.

I could still remember the devastation I felt when we broke up a year later, the circumstances surrounding that breakup, and the way I couldn’t stop crying.

I could still remember how I promised myself that I would never again make myself vulnerable to feel that kind of pain, even if it meant missing out. I was safer this way, and thus far I’d succeeded. It was an unfortunate fact that I’d led him on since then, allowing him to think I’d let him back in when I hadn’t. I wasn't trying to be spiteful or vengeful, because at first I didn't realize what I was doing. But by the time I did we were already drowning, and I knew that nothing could save us.

I’m not stupid. I’m very well aware of why I’m so guarded, of why I’m so set in my way of life and why I’m so resistant to changing a single plan or idea. Presley, Holden, and sometimes even Violet, think that I’m naïve to the reasons I’ve built up such a protective wall around myself, but I’m not. I’ve known all along, and he was staring me right in the face.

“Hey.”

I jumped when I felt his hand tenderly land on mine, the sound of his voice bringing me back to the present. I quickly pulled my hand away and placed it in my lap, my gaze falling to the half-eaten meal before me.

“Where did you go just then?” Aslan whispered. His hand was still sitting on the table between us.

I remained silent. It wasn’t something I had ever gotten into, and it wasn’t something I would ever get into. I sighed heavily and raised my eyes to his again. “I’m right here,” I reassured him unconvincingly.

He opened his mouth to speak, and I was sure he was going to rightfully contradict me, so I beat him to it.

“So what important things did you want to talk to me about?” I questioned.

He frowned, clearly dissatisfied with my tactic. “Really?” He inquired. “We’re really going to pretend that you didn’t just completely disappear into another world?”

“I’m not pretending anything,” I lied, doing my best to keep my tone even and firm. “Now can we please just move on?”

He let a long moment pass before replying, and at first I wasn’t quite sure that he was going to let it go, but his words immediately confirmed otherwise. “I have a favor to ask you.”

My eyebrows rose sky high. “You want to ask me for a favor?” I found this hard to believe.

“Yeah,” he nodded, licking his lips and taking a deep breath. “And it’s a really massive one.”

“Um…okay. What’s up?”

He paused again, and I could see it in his eyes that he was searching for the right words to say. I couldn’t even fathom what he needed from me, but I knew that if he was asking there had to be a good reason.

“I’ve been going over some things with Oz and…he mentioned that it would be a good time to rewrite my will,” he explained. “The existing copy is from when Julia was still alive.”

Oz Carver was an old friend of Aslan’s and had been his lawyer since he landed his first job. I remembered him well; sepia-toned eyes, an ever-present buzz cut and cross-country running calves. College level track was where they had first met.

“He keeps reminding me that I have to think catastrophically in terms of myself,” he went on carefully. “I travel a lot and…God forbid anything happen to me…I need to know that Callie will be in good hands.”

I blanched. I knew where he was going with this even without saying the words.

Aslan forced an awkward lopsided smile. “Don’t look at me like that,” he sighed. “It’s worst-case scenario, not a self-fulfilling prophecy. She’s six years old and Oz is right; I need a new will. It’s way past due.”

I reached out and grabbed the bottle of wine, my face tense as I poured a very full glass for myself. Once I placed it back down on the table and took a large gulp of from my glass, I let out a breath that I felt I’d been holding in forever. “Don’t you think I should be involved her life if there’s even a remote possibility that I could end up her guardian?” I asked, my voice strained.

He’d heard it. He could hear the affection I had for her in between every word I spoke. I also knew that it was probably a little disorienting for him. “I never said you couldn’t be involved in her life,” Aslan clarified softly. “I would be elated if she had a woman in her life, whether she be my girlfriend or wife or not. That little girl is so in love with you, Eliza. She was so confused when you disappeared. She thought maybe she did something wrong…”

I held a hand out to silence him but he went on. I felt terrible enough for what I’d done to her; I didn’t need him to make me feel worse.

“I’m not trying to guilt trip you, I’m just trying to explain,” he reassured me. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while and there are other people I could ask, but when I saw you Wednesday night I just felt like it was a sign that you were the right person. And I know it might seem crazy, but she had such a connection with you. I really thought that you had a connection with her, too, and…I know how put off you are by kids, but…”

“Callie was never actually the problem,” I whispered in return. I took another gulp of my wine, avoiding the feel of his eyes burning into mine.

And just like that, I began to fear I'd opened Pandora’s box. The sound of the blood rushing through my veins was screaming in my ears. I forced myself to bring my eyes to his yet again. Chaos was swimming through his yellow orbs.

“I’ll have to think about it,” I told him. “But at the moment, I can say with 100% certainty that I would be more than willing to be a trustee. God knows you have more money than a small country.”

“Eliza, I~”

“Just keep in mind that if I’m involved in her life, then by default I’m involved in yours, too,” I reminded him. “That means we’d have to act like a set of divorced parents: neither of us talk shit and we act civil for her sake.” I cleared my throat and clapped my hands together with finality. “Moving on. What’s the other issue at hand?”

His alarmed expression was unwavering as he replied, “The house at Kings Beach. I’m thinking of selling it.”

My eyes grew wide. “Why?” I asked.

“Why not?” He retorted. “We’ve been paying the taxes and the upkeep for a piece of property that we’ve jointly owned for nearly ten years, yet we rarely ever spend any time there. When was the last time you visited?”

“I went up for a week in July,” I said matter-of-factly. “How about you?”

“Last Christmas,” he sighed. “And I haven’t been there since.”

“Okay, so why are you asking me about it?” I shrugged. “Your grandparents specifically gave us joint ownership so that we had equal rights, which means you can sell that house at any time you damn well please. You don’t need my permission.”

“And I’m not asking for it,” he countered. “But the fact is that despite the power each of us carries when it comes to that place, it’s home for both of us. I wouldn’t feel right putting it on the market without your blessing, and the fact that you haven’t done it either tells me that you feel the same way. But what’s the use in having a home that we never get any use out of? Someone else could be living in it, creating a life for themselves and their family.”

“Oh bummer,” I mused sarcastically. “Two wealthy people put a house on the market so that other wealthy people, who aren’t in any dire need of a new house in the first place, can feel like they’ve found the right home. How silly of me. Be serious, Aslan. That place is worth at least four million, if not more. No one’s desperate to snatch it up with a price tag like that.”

“$4.7 million, to be exact,” he informed me.

My eyes went wide again. “You had it appraised already?”

“Yep,” he nodded. “Oz has been prepping the paperwork to send over to your lawyer. I called him earlier today and told him to stop for now since I planned on bringing it up tonight.”

I sighed heavily and threw my hands up in defeat. “Honestly, I don’t want to sell it, but if you have your heart set on it then I’m not going to stop you. I’ll work on clearing my schedule so that I can come up there and pack up the important things to bring back to L.A. with me. It’s gonna be tough but…I’m sure Holden can work his magic for me.”

The waiter reappeared then to take our now untouched plates and inquired if we were interested in any dessert or coffee. Aslan glanced at me in question and once I shook my head, he declined and requested the check instead. The waiter obliged and stated he’d be back momentarily, and the second he was gone I looked at Aslan with curiosity.

“We’re wrapping it up that quickly?” I asked in surprise.

“No,” he answered simply. “We’re going to Café Lalo.”

“I agreed to dinner, not dinner and then dessert three and a half miles away from our current location,” I laughed.

The waiter discreetly dropped off our check as Aslan laughed in return. When I attempted to reach for it, he deftly pushed my hand away. “I asked you to dinner,” he reasoned. “And besides, I don’t need your money. I have more money than a small country.” We both laughed again as he pulled his credit card from his wallet and slid it into the tiny folder, then held it out for the passing waiter as he looked up at me. “Now listen, Café Lalo is tradition. I don’t care how far it is. You’ve walked much further in high heels. Albeit you were drunk, but I will gladly get you shitfaced along the way if that would improve the likelihood of you joining me for a late-night pastry run. And anyway, you can take a taxi back to TriBeCa when all is said and done. Stop acting like it’s some sort of crisis. This gives us a chance to talk more.”

“What else is left?” I questioned with amusement.

“Plenty,” he murmured with a small smile. “Don’t play dumb with me.”

I had a smart remark right on the tip of my tongue, but held back when the waiter returned with the receipts and Aslan began scrawling numbers down. I watched as he fluidly signed his name, complete with the overbearing A, J and K that marked his first, middle and last name, then put his credit card back in his wallet.

He stood up and pulled his black blazer off the back of his chair. “Ready to go?” He asked as he slid into it.

I nodded and stood up as well, pulling on my satin red cropped trench coat and grabbing my purse. He led the way out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk, and it didn’t take long for us to fall into step with one another.

“Thanks for dinner,” I said, glancing at him with a smile.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled back. “Thanks for meeting me. I know you weren’t happy about coming here.”

“No, I wasn’t,” I agreed. “But I’m glad I did. We had a rocky start, but I think it’s the first time we’ve sat through an entire meal in years where we didn’t argue about something.”

“I think maybe we’re getting too old and tired,” he snorted.

“You might be right,” I admitted reluctantly.

An autumn breeze drifted our way and I shivered, and as I wrapped the jacket tighter around my body and secured the belt, I realized Aslan’s arm had made its way around my shoulders. I laughed lightly as he pulled me close to his side.

“Relax,” he chuckled. “I’m just trying to be a gentleman. I saw the way you shivered.”

I didn’t push his arm away. I couldn’t. I did, however, make a weak verbal protest. “You realize there are people that know my face now, right?”

“There are people that have known your face for the last seven years,” he commented. “So what if you’re dating some actor or rockstar? And besides, it’s 8 o’clock at night in the Meatpacking District. Who the fuck is gonna recognize you here?”

“You’d be surprised,” I countered. “Those paparazzi are sneaky. That picture that ousted us…I didn’t have the slightest clue that anyone was watching.”

“That’s what you get for living in Los Angeles,” he pointed out. “There’s always gonna be someone watching. And that’s also what you get for dating a celebrity. You’re on their radar now. You never were one for subtlety, though…”

I laughed and playfully poked him in the side. He grinned and quickly dodged away, but just as quickly he returned to his previous position. We walked silently for another few minutes, enjoying one another's familiar company, until he turned to me and let out a heavy sigh.

“So...” he ventured slowly, “you said something earlier that I want to ask you about and...I think you know what it is...”

Silly man. Of course I knew. I turned to him and smiled, close lipped, and murmured, “Pandora's box, hmm?”

Aslan frowned, his arm dropping from my shoulders again, and together we stopped walking. He turned to face me and gave me a pensive look. “Pandora's box contained evil.”

“And what remained at the bottom?” I questioned.

I watched as my words sunk in with him. He knew exactly what I was getting at. He sighed again, his brow softening. “That's not what this is about,” he reassured me. “We'll never really be over but...we're over, Eliza. I know that. The hope I had for you and I died a long time ago.”

I shrugged in confusion. “So then what exactly do you want to ask me about?”

His frown returned, and he hesitated for a long moment, stuffing his hands into his pockets and gnawing on his lip. I was about to prompt him again when he spoke, his voice very low. “I just don't get it,” he confessed. “In Prague you had me believing that you didn't want kids. When we were growing up together in Miami, and even in college, you always said you did. When did that change?”

I remained silent, trying to compose the best explanation in my head. I could say a thousand things, give him a thousand reasons, but none of them seemed right, none of them seemed articulate enough. This wasn't a novel – this was my life – and there was nothing at all scripted about it.

“If it wasn't about Callie, then was it about me?” He ventured carefully.

I shrugged again. “Yes and no,” I admitted. “The thing is...at some point there's too much history to be able to really move on.” I paused and reached out to press one of my hands against his chest. “I tried so hard for so long to move past all the tension...but to be honest, I'm just not sure it ever really worked. I'd changed so much by the time we saw one another in college again, and I was still changing even after we got back together. I swear I never meant to hurt you and I'm so, so sorry that I did, time and time again.”

His hand rose to cover mine and his eyes dropped to the ground as he listened to me go on.

“I don't expect your forgiveness,” I continued, watching as he wove his fingers with mine. “And I don't particularly need it. You knowing that I'm remorseful is enough for me. As for the whole kids thing...I just realized that for me, raising a child in a world like this just isn't worth it. I don't mean to sound like I'm simplifying it, but that's the truth. Also...childbirth grosses me out.”

Aslan laughed loudly at that, his eyes finally meeting mine again. “Fair enough,” he nodded. He let go of my hand and motioned to the sidewalk before us, still awaiting our footsteps to Cafe Lalo. I obliged and we began walking again, and I was surprised when his arm found its way to my shoulders for a third time. “I really haven't changed at all, have I?” He finally said with an easy laugh.

“Not at all,” I chuckled in return.

He glanced over at me and scoffed. “Well geez, don't say it with disdain or anything...”

I laughed harder and thought of the night Charlie 'introduced' us. “Aslan, you don't need to change,” I informed him with sincerity. “You were built so well that you aren't the kind of person that needs to change. I, on the other hand, have had loose screws since day one.”

He laughed again and pulled me tighter against him, pressing a tender but chaste kiss to the crown of my head. “Nonsense,” he countered. “Neither of us had a walk in the park, Eliza, and we've done the best with what we've been given. You've never been anything short of a remarkable woman, no matter what you might think.”

“Well...thanks, I guess,” I said half-heartedly. He started to respond but I wasn't listening. Instead I was wondering if he'd still feel the same way if he knew the whole story. The story I kept locked away in my heart. The one I'd never let see daylight again.