Goodbye
"Okay, I'll call you when I get there," Betty repeated as she stood at the car. Overcome with emotion, her father backed away. Hilda moved to stand in front of her sister, "Betty, why don't you wait until it's time to go to the airport?"
"I can't, Hilda," she answered. Seeing the knowing look on her sister's face she added, "I have to say goodbye to him. I can't leave New York without fixing things."
"He's not your problem to fix," Hilda said, "at least not anymore."
Betty just smiled and gave her another hug. "I love you, Hilda."
Daniel heard the knock on the door, but he ignored it and finished his drink. As he was walking to the kitchen he heard the second knock followed by, "I know you're in there, Daniel. I'll use my key if you don't open the door."
He briefly wondered why she had a key to an apartment he'd rented after the "Cult Incident," long after she'd been his assistant. Shaking his head, he realized it didn't matter how, but just that she did.
She was in the middle of the third knock when he opened the door. Feigning more anger than he felt, he motioned for her to come in. As she stepped into the room she told him, "I don't really have a key, by the way."
"When did you become devious?" he asked snidely.
"Why have you been avoiding me?" she countered.
"I haven't been avoiding you," he answered, putting the glass on the coffee table then turning to face her. "I've been busy running a magazine and a publishing company."
Betty took a deep breath as she realized this wasn't going to be easy. "I should be on a plane right now, but I got a later flight so I could come here and say goodbye to you."
"You shouldn't have wasted your time."
"Daniel, what's going on? You said we were good. Why are you so angry?"
"Why am I angry?" he repeated, stunned. "You're moving to London! And I had to find out about it from a mass email, from Marc!"
She chuckled bitterly, "Oh, right, I forgot: this is all about you. Heaven forbid you be happy for me! No, you have to be the same selfish, self-absorbed ass you've always been!"
"That's rich, Betty," he retorted, "you're standing in my living room because you want me to make it okay for you to leave, no matter how I feel. Talk about selfish and self-absorbed."
"What do you mean, no matter how you feel? Am I not supposed to do what's right for my life because you need me around to pick up the pieces of yours? That's pathetic, Daniel."
"Get out," he spewed. She'd never seen him this angry at her, and it shook her. She suddenly remembered why she was here.
"No," she said simply, crossing her arms and standing her ground.
He could see the shift in her mood, and it made him uneasy. Being angry at her was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. "Go, Betty. Consider this goodbye."
She, too, could see the tension in his shoulders ease. She knew she could reach him. "Daniel, I meant it when I said I didn't want to end on bad terms. I'm sorry, okay, that I didn't tell you."
"I tried, plenty of times," she continued, "but I never wanted to ruin the moment. I knew we wouldn't be seeing much of each other anymore, and I wanted to enjoy the time we had left. You're right, I was being selfish."
As she walked toward him he closed his eyes, tried to reach inside through the hurt and get back to the anger. "It's fine, I told you. You should be happy. You should be on your way to your new life. Don't let me stop you."
"Daniel, please, I need to know you're going to be okay." She was standing in front of him, tears welling up in her eyes. She put her hands on his arms. "Please don't hate me."
He swung his arms up to remove her hands and backed away slightly. "I don't hate you, Betty," he said, refusing to look in her eyes. "You know I could never hate you. It's fine; just go. Call me when you get there, so I know you're safe." He hoped the last part would appease her, let her know he would still be around.
She reached her arms out to hug him, but he backed away again. "Why are you being like this?" she asked. "I don't understand."
By now her tears were flowing down her cheeks. Seeing this, his own tears began to flow. When she reached out for him again, he held open his arms.
"I know how many people you've lost," she told him, "but you're not losing me. We'll still be friends. We can email, and video chat and call, and I'll be back for visits."
He buried his face in her shoulder for a moment, lost in the kindness in her voice. She was always too kind to him. "I don't know if I can do that," he said.
"Why not?" she asked obviously hurt. "Are you trying to punish me?"
He pulled out of the embrace. "I'm not- ugh! This is why I didn't want to have this conversation," he said, as much to himself as to her. "What time is your flight?" he asked in an attempt to move her out the door.
"What are you not telling me?" she asked, the anger starting to rise again.
"You need to go, Betty," was his reply, "You have a plane to catch."
"Tell me what it is," she said deliberately.
"It doesn't matter!" he yelled.
"What doesn't matter?" she yelled back.
"I'm in love with you!" he screamed. Suddenly the room went quiet. The only sound was their breathing.
"Are you happy now?" he asked bitterly. He looked down, rubbed his forehead.
"That can't be true," she said after a moment.
"Why, because it's inconvenient?" he retorted. "Trust me; it's way more inconvenient for me than it is for you."
"Why didn't you say anything? Before?"
"Because I didn't realize it until after you said you were leaving."
"Oh."
He looked at her then, saw confusion mixed with disbelief. "Oh, indeed."
"In typical Betty fashion, you've pushed and pushed until you got your answer," he continued. "You can go now."
"Daniel," she pleaded, "it doesn't have to be this way."
"I was avoiding you because I was trying to keep it civil," he answered, "but you've shot that to hell. You're going to London; leave me alone, Betty. Please."
She started crying softly again. Closing the gap between them, she placed her hands on either side of his face and brought it down until their foreheads were touching. "Daniel," was all she said.
He was crying again, too. Grabbing her shoulders, he softly repeated, "Please, Betty, go," as he tried to push her away.
She didn't answer, just held on and shook her head. As she did so, her lips briefly brushed his. It startled them both for a moment. Then she slowly reached back up, gave him the slightest of kisses. With that, a floodgate opened inside of him. Pushing away all thoughts of what a bad idea it was, he moved his hands up to her neck and kissed her, hard. When she didn't resist, he let his hands begin exploring her body. The kissing intensified; their clothes became strewn all over the floor as he led her to the bedroom.
He stared at the ceiling, his feelings warring inside him. She, too, stared at the ceiling for a few moments, completely thrown by what just happened between them.
She waited for him to say something. When he didn't, she turned and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I wish you would have told me before now."
He grimaced at her touch and steeled himself for what he had to do, what he couldn't do an hour earlier. "You should go before you miss your flight."
The coldness in his voice surprised her, hurt. "I probably already have," she replied, "besides, it doesn't matter now."
He sat up, turned his back to her. "Of course it still matters. This was my fault, so I'll pay any fees you have to get a new ticket."
She also sat up, clutching the sheets, suddenly feeling very exposed. "Daniel, how can I leave after what just happened?"
"What just happened was that we had sex, but you still have a job to go to," he said.
She could feel the tears welling up, and more than anything she didn't want to cry right now. "You said you love me, that you're in love with me," she reminded him, "don't you want me to stay?"
He hated the pain in her voice; hated more knowing he was the cause of it. He let out a sigh. "Of course I want you to stay," he relented, turning to face her. "Why do you think I avoided you for the last week?"
He ran a hand through her hair, placed it on her cheek. "But I won't be the reason you don't go. I won't, Betty."
She grabbed his arm, brought his hand down into her own. "I'll stay for me," she pleaded. "This changes everything. How can I leave now? How can I leave you?"
He shook his head sadly. "No," he insisted, removing his hand from hers. "If you don't take this job, you will always regret it. I know you. I won't be something you wake up regretting in a year, or five years."
Part of her knew he was right. But looking at him, having just felt how much he loved her, she didn't want to admit it. "If I don't stay, I'll always regret not knowing what this could be. You're more important than the job, Daniel."
He wanted so much to believe her. This was one of the few times in their relationship that his age and experience made him wiser, and he hated having to teach her this lesson. "If I were more important, Betty, you never would have taken the job in the first place."
It felt like a blow to her gut, and she had no comeback. She closed her eyes and leaned against the headboard.
He put on his boxers, stood up and made his way to the bathroom door. "I'm going to take a shower. You are welcome to use the guest bathroom before you go."
She watched him shut the door, cried as she got dressed. The stubborn part of her wanted to put up a fight, but already she could feel that something was broken between them that couldn't be fixed. At least not right now.
When he came out of the bathroom she was dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed. She stood as he walked toward her. "I'm leaving, but this isn't over," she said, "I'll call you after I land." She kissed him lightly and left. "Goodbye, Betty," he said softly as he heard the front door close.
