Poison
No, Gillian. She picked up the phone, tempted to call in sick, when she very well wasn't. Setting the phone back down, her subconsciousness praised her like she was an obedient puppy. Good, Gillian. Go into work, Gillian. But she picked the phone back up. What was she doing? She dialed a number and waited.
"The Lightman Group."
"It's Dr. Foster...is Dr. Lightman there?"
"I'll put you through."
After a few moments of waiting, his voice came across the line, accent and all. And everything Gillian liked. "Foster?"
"Cal...can I stay home today?"
"Why are you asking me?"
"Because." He could almost see the eye roll she gave him.
"That's not an answer, Gillian." Oh, there she went again.
"Cal. I...I just need to stay home."
"Alright, just this once." A sigh. "Everything okay?"
"It's Alec...he...just isn't the same." Fear tinged her voice.
"Tell him I say to stick it where it counts." Gillian heard the smile in his voice.
"He doesn't like you, Cal."
"I know. Look, I have to go..."
"Alright, Cal." Almost begrudgingly, he looked at the clock.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yes, tomorrow."
"Bye, Gillian."
"Bye, Cal."
Gillian hung up the phone and walked over to the window. Liar. She pushed away her conscious and sat down to watch TV. That is, until her husband came home. She turned off the TV and thought about him. No, not her husband.
Him.
The one person that invaded her thoughts. Slipped under her skin. Made her feel numb. Him. And maybe, just maybe, she was his poison.