Lamborghini | Tony Stark

FORTY FIVE - ONE LAST THING

There had been countless times Sasha had gone to hold Tony's hand in the middle of the night, to call him after she'd received good news at work or to text him a funny video she knew would make him laugh.

It was no secret her life was different without him in it, and a lot darker to say the least. New York no longer held the same happiness it once did for Sasha. For a long time, it became a place that symbolised hope and a fresh start, though now, it had become the place that haunted her both in her dreams and when she was wide awake.

There was no street sign or corner that didn't remind her of Tony, no park bench they hadn't sat on together or bar they hadn't stumbled out of in the early hours of the morning. Sasha could hear his voice in the back of her mind when she looked in shop windows and when cars passed her in the street that were the same make and model he drove.

Men that wore old band t-shirts and red lensed glasses made her double-take in grocery store lines and women calling out his name always made her think she'd see her Tony appearing in front of her, only for it to be another woman's husband instead.

Sasha wasn't naïve. She never thought that leaving Tony was going to be easy, though she had drastically underestimated just how difficult it actually would be.

Having always been strong willed, Sasha had anticipated a couples of weeks worth of sadness, perhaps a few tears here and there, and a distraction in the form of throwing herself feverishly back into her job. Only, she couldn't have been more wrong.

The sadness hadn't lessened and the tears were free falling at all hours of the day and night. Her job provided no solace or distraction, acting as a reminder of all the times she would walk across the street at meet Tony in O'Shea's or call him as soon as she finished a press conference outside the courthouse. There was no way out of this endless tunnel of darkness that Sasha found herself in, the worst part being the fact that she'd walked into it on her own accord.

Tony had hurt her, deeply, though the reality of him not being around hurt her more. That being said, she'd seemingly made a bed of thorns and now had to lie in it, despite the crippling scratches and cuts that bled more every day.

Running through Central Park on a Saturday morning had become something of a routine for Tony, a way to force himself out of bed first thing on a weekend without spending hours laying in silence thinking about Sasha.

It had worked for the past few weeks, though on that particular morning, his distraction failed for the first time.

The temperature had dropped significantly and although the sun was shining in a bright blue sky, the air felt frosty and Tony could see his breath in front of him as he ran through the park, music blasting loudly through his headphones as he kept a steady pace.

He saw Sasha perched on an iron bench by the lake, one leg crossed over the other and a scarf draped around her neck, a cup of what he knew would be a black Americano in her left hand. Her hair was tied up in a curled ponytail and she was fresh faced besides a gloss on her lips and curled lashes, her skin pale yet glowing.

Tony stopped and stared for a few moments, panting as he caught his breath whilst also deciding whether to approach her or simply continue running like he hadn't seen her.

He almost felt his feet begin to move in the opposite direction when Sasha lifted her head from the ground and saw him, her eyes widening for a split second before a hesitant, soft smile fell onto her lips that grabbed Tony by the ankles and dragged him in her direction.

He swallowed hard as he walked towards her, his heart beating loudly in his ears and his stomach swirling with anxiety.

Sasha shuffled over, making room for Tony to sit down on the bench beside her. They were in a quiet spot in the park where only two people had walked past her since she'd sat down with her coffee twenty minutes earlier, a small slice of peace within a bustling metropolis.