**Dialogue in italics is directly from the episodes and do not belong to me, but to the writers of "Murdoch Mysteries". I just use them to allow continuity with the backstory.
He stayed, as if waiting for me to continue explaining my findings. "How long?" he asked.
"Pardon?" We had already determined how long Mr. Garbutt had been dead, but he looked solemn and I had a feeling he was bringing up the conversation that had been interrupted the night before.
"How long have you been considering leaving your position here?" he said it quietly, and I could tell he was hurt and confused.
I opened my mouth to speak, but it was difficult. "It's hard to say…" I managed. "Some time, I suppose."
"Because if there is anything that I have said or done…" he replied.
"No, William, no," I assured him. "It has nothing to do with you." I regretted my choice of words as soon as I said them and by the look on William's face, I was hurting him even more, and that was the last thing I ever wanted to do.
"How can you say that? You're moving to another city."
"It's only Buffalo." I didn't know who I was trying harder to convince, William or myself. "We can still visit with each other on the weekends."
"Visit? If our work doesn't intervene, if our schedules don't clash. You should have consulted me." He was right and I knew it, but I had to remain on the path I had now committed myself to.
"William, I regret not informing you earlier, but…this is my decision to make."
"What will happen to us?"
"I'm not sure, William," I answered honestly. "But you know how rarely opportunities come along for a woman in my field. I can't ignore them on the off chance that…" What? I asked myself. The off chance that you love me, ask me to marry you? I didn't want to presume and in my defence, I knew William was attracted to me and I him, but how far did that go on his part. I knew I loved him and I was trying to give him the life he deserved, but truthfully, he had never told me how he felt.
"Julia, I thought we had an understanding," he said.
What exactly does our understanding consist of, William? I thought as I sat down. "We do…" I said softly. "I just don't know of what anymore. Maybe we'll stay together," I tried to smile hopefully. And then the thought that I'd dreaded since I made this decision came out of my mouth. "Maybe you'll find another woman who will catch your eye," I laughed half-heartedly. It pained me even to think it, let alone say it out loud.
"I have no interest in any other woman," he assured me.
I felt somewhat better, but it didn't help me. "William, I'm just saying, yes, this will be different." I got up and took his hands, "Can't we live with that?"
He frowned and seemed even more confused as to why I was doing this to him. But I wasn't ready to tell him the truth. The less he knew, the less it would hurt him. If I could get away with it, I didn't plan on telling him at all.
"I'm sorry, William. For not telling you earlier, I honestly regret that, but we can figure something out," I tried to hold back the tears. "Now, I have to get back to work."
He looked in my eyes, searching for the truth, then looked at our hands which were still clasped, nodded gently and left.
I sat down heavily, my head in my hands. Should I tell him? Would it only hurt him deeper? What would he say when and if I told him? I was sure he'd understand, and yet what if it made him even angrier with me? No, it was best not to tell him at all. I swallowed and continued my autopsy on Mr. Garbutt, focusing all my attention into my work, as I had done so many times when emotion threatened to overpower my reason.
