He wanders around aimlessly for a few seconds, ending up in the men's room. Blinking back the tears threatening to fall, he washes his face, refusing to acknowledge his own reflection in the mirror.
He can feel his pulse pounding in his ears, the echo of his own words reverberating in his brain. "You're leaving, aren't you?"
He ducks out of the building before she can see him, walks around the block before remembering there actually is a meeting he should be at. He goes through the motions of the rest of the day, barely registers what is said and done around him. If anyone notices that he's off, they don't say.
As closing time nears he worries that she'll come by his office again, so he leaves early. His first thought is to head to the nearest bar, but instead he hears himself give the driver his mother's address. She lets him in without question, pours him a drink as he takes off his jacket and sits on the couch.
"I'm sorry, honey," Claire says as she hands him the scotch.
He stares into the space in front of him for a few seconds, looks over to where she's sitting in the arm chair, and says simply, "Oh, my god."
Claire's face shows her empathy for her son, but she says nothing.
Daniel takes a sip of the drink, sits back on the couch. "How the hell did this happen?"
"Oh, I don't know," she answers with a wicked smile, "how could you possibly develop feelings for someone who has been with you at the best and worst moments of your life, who has always supported you and has always forgiven you when you've acted like a jackass?"
"I haven't acted like a jackass!" he protests, side-stepping Claire's point. "Not to her."
"Not that much," he concedes after a moment, realizing burning the contract waiver definitely constituted acting like a jackass, and it wasn't the first time.
"Daniel, why are you treating this as a bad thing? You love her! It's good!"
"Mom, she's moving to London!" he yells, exasperated. "And I don't love her. I'm just…upset that she's leaving. And confused. And lonely.
"And you're right, she's always been there for me. I wouldn't have gotten through Molly's death, or Dad's for that matter, without her. I can always count on her, and she knows me, so I can tell her anything, and I trust her opinion, so…" he stops himself, dumbstruck again with what he now knows is the truth. "Oh, my god."
Claire has listened to him babble on, watches as he works through his feelings.
"You do realize that she feels the same way, don't you?"
"What?" This gets his attention. "Did she say something to you?"
"No, but Daniel, why would she have done all of those things you just said if she didn't feel the same way?"
His response comes out in a snort. "Why would she take a job in London if she did? No, she's never seen me as anything more than a friend. She's told me that herself."
"She did?," Claire replies, genuinely curious. "When?"
"Back when Renee accused her of being in love with me."
She would laugh at the absurdity of her son, if it wasn't so sad to watch. "Oh, Daniel, that was two years ago! And wasn't she dating Henry at the time?"
"Yeah, so?" Daniel wonders if he sounds as petulant as he thinks he does.
"So, feelings change. Yours have. I've watched you two get closer this year." Claire decides to appeal to Daniel's baser instincts. "Betty has grown into a mature, beautiful woman. You can't tell me you haven't noticed that."
Betty in her bridesmaid dress. Betty when her braces were first gone. Betty reaching out to him at the Blobby awards. Betty looking at him this morning, confirming that she was leaving him.
"Yeah, I've noticed," he replies begrudgingly, "but that doesn't change the fact that she made a decision to move to another continent without even talking to me."
"Whatever this," he waves at his own chest, "is, she doesn't feel the same way."
Claire thinks for a moment. "Maybe. Or maybe she just doesn't realize it. It took her quitting and you nearly burning your office down for you to figure it out. You should talk to her."
Daniel imagines himself knocking on her apartment door, saying any number of weird and embarrassing things, and Betty telling him again that she's leaving. Leaving him.
"No, I'm not telling her any of this," he gives his mother his most menacing glare, "and neither are you."
Claire knows Daniel can be stubborn and resistant to change; does she ever know. "Okay, I won't say anything. But you should. Daniel, I think you'll really regret it if you don't."
Daniel realizes all of a sudden that he's tired. And his head hurts. And his heart hurts. "I'll think about it, Mom." Brushing off his thoughts before the tears come back, he downs the rest of his drink and changes the subject.
Claire lets him off the hook, this time, and makes a mental note of how many days are left before Betty leaves.