She has a date. With him. They're going to have dinner tonight. Together. The two of them. No matter how many times I try to reformulate this concept, it doesn't make it easier. Actually, just the idea of it makes me want to rip him apart in two halves, with the same chain saw Howard Epps used on his wife. Yeah I know, I'm pathetic.
I watch her as she's grooming herself in her office, making herself beautiful, as if it was possible to be more beautiful than what nature had made her. She's wearing that very nice red dress, the one I bought for her in Vegas, and I have to calm down before I have a nervous breakdown at the thought that he is the one who'll get to take that dress off of her tonight. Not me, him. Hell, like I could hope anything like that. I told you I was pathetic.
She raises her head to meet my eyes, and with a shy smile, ask me if I think she looks good. How do I tell her that good doesn't even begin to cover it? That she's just stunning? That I feel like if I look at her a minute longer I will burn from the sin of laying my miserable eyes on the true meaning of Beauty? Instead, I just tell her that she looks great, and throw her a charm smile. It became pretty useful, the charm smile, I don't have to work on it, so when I'm just too stunned to think, I do it. Reflex. Took me out of many embarrassing moments those past two years.
She thanks me and stands up from her desk chair, takes her purse and goes out of her office after wishing me a goodnight, and I can't even bring myself to answer the same, because I definitely do not want her night to be good. Call it selfish, but that's all I have, the hope he'll bore her to death.
I turn around on my heels to follow her silhouette, stepping out of her office. My eyes never leave her swaying hips, and to each noise of her stilettos answers a twinge in my heart.
"You really do love her." It's not a question, it's a statement.
I turn around and enter Bones' office once more, avoiding Camille and the questioning I know will follow.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." I head toward Bone's desk.
"Don't play dumb with me, Seeley."
"Quit calling me Seeley." The words come out of my mouth between gritted teeth. She really didn't choose the best moment to grill me.
"Quit lying about your feelings toward Dr Brennan, then."
I lay my hands on the desk, and struggle very hard not to yell at her. It would be such an easy way to get freed from my anger to discharge it on her.
"What do you want me to say? That I love her? That not a minute of my god dammed life goes by that is not spent thinking of her? That it's so damn painful to be around her all day without her knowing my feelings for her I sometimes wish I could be shot in the head to be pulled out of my misery?"
I cant' help but yell, now. I have two years of frustration to release.
"I can't say it, Cam, ok? I can't because there's those fucking high risk situations for both of us, and I won't endanger her life to satisfy my pitiful little feelings. I cant' because that stupid prick makes her happy, and if I really do love her I have to be happy for her. And that means shutting my goddam feelings down. So quit pissing me off with it, ok?"
"I… forgot my cell phone…" Oh God…
I abruptly turn around as if thunder has striked me. Which might actually have happened for all I know. Since when is she here? Where is Cam? From what moment did she hear? Did she get that I just confess my undying love for her? I can't say anything and keep on staring at her as she goes through her office and picks up her cell on her desk.
"You… should probably tell her."
What?
"The woman you love. You should tell her."
My jaw hits the floor. How can she possibly say that? Does that mean… She comes toward me and I feel her hand softly cupping my cheek. Her eyes are full of concern.
"Any woman would be happy to have you, Booth. You're a good man."
Her smile is meant to be reassuring.
"Whoever she is, I'm sure she won't reject you. So go tell her, ok? I don't want my best friend to suffer."
She caresses my cheek with her thumb once more before turning around and leaving.
From the heat of it, I can say my cheeks are now redder than her dress. Pathetic.
To Be Continued...