He took a long drink from the still cool bottle of beer before sitting it back down on the table. The computer that sat open in front of him was nothing more than a decoy. There was no business to tend to, no e-mails to read and answer, no stories or business trends he needed to follow. He was, for all intents and purpose, just drifting through life. He knew that, but no one else should. No one else ever could. The soft sounds trilled from the overhead speakers and he let his attention drift, for only a moment, to the soft sounds. Which one was this? Which cloyingly, festive Christmas carol was now being pumped through the air? He used to love the holidays, the times he spent with his family, the moments they all had the time to slow down and truly enjoy some time with each other. Even as a child, when he spent so many of these special times in boarding schools, he still enjoyed the special feeling associated with Christmas. Everyone seemed a little happier, a little more grateful, a little more forgiving.

Not anymore. I'll Be Home For Christmas, he thought to himself with a sigh. He brought the cool bottle back to his lips and took another drink. He was home this year, but it certainly didn't feel like it.

"Can I get you anything else?" the waitress asked with a flirtatious smile.

"No," he said softly. He could see the look in her eyes. She was young and attractive and he had no doubt that it would take nothing more than a smile and a few scribbled words on a cocktail napkin to have her knocking on his door a few hours later. Still, she wouldn't solve his problem. He'd tried that particular brand of distraction several times and it always led him to the same place. Alone and annoyingly guilty. The alone part he could handle. He might not like it, but he'd been alone a lot in his life. He'd gotten used to it. Billy Abbott didn't require a host of people to surrounding him to survive. The guilt, however, ate at him. He had no reason to feel guilty. He wasn't attached to anyone or anything. He was a free agent. He'd made sure of that. Damn sure.

It had been nearly three months now and still she seemed as disgusted with him as ever. At first she'd been angry, so angry that her eyes had seemed to almost shoot fire when she'd glared at him. He could still remember the absolute venom in her words. The hatred in her voice was still so clear in his mind and he'd imagined it was the absolute worst thing he'd ever experience. It wasn't even close. Not by a long shot. The anger had faded and in its place the disappointment had come. That was a fate worse than anything he'd ever imagined. When he saw her now, the fury was gone from her eyes. She now looked at him with something akin to disbelief, as if she was desperately trying to determine who he was and where the man she'd loved so deeply had gone.

It was a question he didn't have the answer to. And he'd looked in all his usual places. He'd spent many a night in the bars, looking in the bottom of the bottles. He'd spent a couple nights in a holding cell, sobering up before Rey would eventually take pity on him and release him, letting one of the rookie officers drive him home. He'd picked up a few random women, made his obligatory path of destruction through his family, and eventually settled in at one of the local hotels. The Athletic Club was too familiar, too many faces he knew coming in and out. He only came here occasionally, on days like today, when he felt particularly masochistic. And today would certainly pay off it seemed.

She hadn't seen him yet, though he'd been watching her for nearly half an hour. He'd managed to remain hidden behind the screen of the laptop. She was sitting beside a man in a suit. He could hear her laughter, floating through the room. She sounded happy. He wanted to want to that for her, but he couldn't. She should only be happy when she was with him. He closed his eyes as he remembered the way it felt to hear her laugh like that. When he opened his eyes again, she was standing. The man stood too, helping her with her coat. It looked as if they were leaving together. Billy took a quick breath as he saw his face for a fraction of a second.

No. It couldn't.

He was on his feet before he even thought about it. Logic would dictate that he sit his ass right back down, that he go back to his faux business and let Phyllis live her own life, on her terms. But he'd never been a big fan of logic and his heart was clearly leading the charge here. He grabbed his coat from the chair where he'd discarded it. The folded hundred dollar bill was far more than his ticket required, but he didn't care. She could be going anywhere with that man and he had to stop her. He threw his laptop under his arm and nearly jogged towards the door. His chest heaved in relief as he saw them far ahead in the distance. It appeared they were heading to the park. He could follow them there. He could stop them. He could talk to her … if she'd let him. But that was a chance he wasn't sure he could take. This was too important. She was too important. There had to be a better way.

"So there was no meeting?"

She stopped, the familiar voice sending a chill through her far colder than that of the bracing Wisconsin wind. It couldn't be. She leaned back in the wrought iron chair. "What are you doing here, Billy?"

"I think you should answer that question first," he continued. His first consideration was her safety of course, but he couldn't help being a bit bemused by her confused expression. "You said you couldn't do lunch today because of a business meeting, but apparently, you could do lunch … just not with me."

"Who is this guy?" The well dressed man looked up at him, his eyes studying every aspect of his body.

Billy could feel his fists tightening. If he'd had any doubt in his mind as to his identity, they were gone now. He didn't know him well, not at all really, but it was amazing the things you learned when you shared the back seat of a police car. Surely Phyllis didn't know he was married. Surely she didn't know he'd been arrested three times for domestic abuse, that his wife had filed a restraining order against him, that she'd filed for divorce and was currently waiting for it to be finalized. He didn't know what he'd told her, but he was sure he hadn't told her any of that.

"Billy Abbott." Billy held his hand out towards him, wondering if the name would ring a bell at all or if he'd been too drunk at the time to remember anything. If he did remember, his face didn't show it. "And you are …"

"Wondering why you're still here," the man answered, his eyes looking across the table towards Phyllis again. "You know this man?"

"Does she know me?" Billy smiled. "I'd say so … intimately."

"Stop it." Her jaw was clenched as she looked up at him. "I don't know what the hell you think you're doing or why you're doing it, but this stops … now."

"I need to talk to you." The amusement he'd found in the beginning was gone now. She wasn't listening to him. She hadn't been overcome with the chivalry of the moment and shooed this man away. He couldn't waste more time, couldn't risk her getting up and leaving with this asshole.

"I'm in the middle of something, Billy." Her eyes were harsh, cold, unfeeling. She couldn't soften when it came to him. Giving an inch when it came to Billy meant danger, the inches almost always gave way to miles of absolute abyss.

"It'll only take a minute," he protested. "You owe me this." He regretted the words the instant he said them, the fury he'd seen in her eyes initially returning. "I mean … you don't owe me …"

"You're damn right I don't owe you. I don't owe you anything. After what you did to me … after the lengths you went to to make sure that we were over and done with, you have the unmitigated gall to show up here and suggest that …"

"Look, I'm sorry." He held up his hands as he stepped closer to the table, aware they'd begun to attract the attention of an older couple sitting nearby. "I didn't mean it like that. It just came out wrong. Please. Can you just give me a minute? I just need to talk to you for a minute. It's important."

"We can go somewhere else." The man was speaking again. He didn't know his name. Didn't remember it. It didn't matter.

"You're not going anywhere with her," Billy snapped.

"You don't get to make that call," Phyllis snapped right back. "I'll do what I want with whoever I want whenever I want. You lost the right to have any say in what I do the minute you …" She stopped. She didn't want their dirty laundry making the rounds across all of Genoa City. "You know what you did," she said quietly.

"Come on." He reached for their coats, moving to stand up.

"Don't." Billy's hand reached for her, his hand falling on her shoulder, the pressure gentle but firm. His eyes fell on his. "If you so much as take one step towards her, I'll call the police."

"The police?" Phyllis blinked as she looked at him. "What the hell are you talking about? Have you lost your damn mind?"

"Do you want to tell her?" There was a flash of realization in the man's eyes. He wasn't sure if it was a connection between his face and where they may have met once before or if it was a simple understanding of what the police might know of him, but there was certainly a shift.

"You two clearly have some things to work out. Maybe I should just go." His tone was gruff as he moved to stand.

"I …" Phyllis stammered as she studied his face. "I don't … What … Well, you have my number. Give me a call and we'll set something else up once I deal with …" She pointed to Billy, her eyes flashing in annoyance again. "Whatever this is."

"He won't be calling you again," Billy answered before he had a chance to.

She opened her mouth to respond, but stopped when she saw the exchange of looks between the two men. Clearly something was going on here, something far more than she was privy too. Nothing was said until he was out of earshot, until she turned towards Billy and hissed. "You want to tell me what the hell that was all about."

"I had to make sure you were alright," he said softly. He took a seat in the chair across the table. "You just meet up with random guys now?"

She scoffed. "It's not a random guy. I met him at the Athletic Club a few weeks ago. We ran into each other a few times and we finally agreed to meet for lunch. After lunch today, he asked if I'd like to have coffee here. I'm not sure what you find so sinister all it all, but that's the story." She let the air leave her lungs. "Not that it's any of your business."

The words sounded wrong as she said them. How could it ever be true that she wasn't his business. She would always be his business. "What do you know about that guy?"

The breath left her lips in a short puff. "His name is Jeff. He works for a tech firm. He's charming and polite and right now, that's all I need to know."

"So you all haven't made it to the point in the relationship where he tells you about his wife?" It came out more snide than he intended and the flash of shock and hurt in her eyes made his heart pang.

"His what?"

"Jeff …" He said the name again, its utterance making him sick, "He has a wife, well for now. She's filing for divorce. She's already filed for a restraining order. I'm not sure which of the domestic abuse charges finally prompted her to do that, but she's done it now."

Her eyes said what her words couldn't.

"I was at the bar one night and I had a few too many, got a complimentary night's stay at the GCPD. One of the guy's in the police car with me was Jeff and he was ranting and raving about the restraining order and why it was bogus and why they shouldn't have arrested him for violating it. Once we got thrown into the holding cell together, I got to hear a few more bits and pieces of his sordid story."

"Oh." The look on her face was a mix of embarrassment and anger. "I didn't … He never said anything …" She stopped, realizing how stupid her words sounded. "Of course he wouldn't I guess. Who would tell someone something like that …" She raised her eyes to look into his again. "If you're waiting on me to thank you for being my own personal guard dog or something …"

"I didn't do this so you would thank me." Her words hit him harder than he'd expected. He didn't need her gratitude. That's not what this had been about. He would have done anything to keep her safe regardless of whether she appreciated it or not. If it had made her hate him ever more, he still would have done the exact same thing … as long as his actions had kept her safe.

"So why did you do it?"

He thought for a moment. "What you said earlier, about it not being my business … you're wrong. You might wish it were true, but it's not. I'll always care about what happens to you. It doesn't matter where you go or who you're with. You can hate me. You can curse me, but you'll never shake me. I'll always look out for you. I'll always care. You will always be my business."

"And what …" His words struck her, in the way they always did. It amazed her how he had the ability to be a complete ass in one moment and a total romantic in the next. "I don't have any say in that?"

"Afraid not." He dared to smile a bit as he looked into her eyes. For a brief moment he was certain he saw a softness there, a look he almost recognized from months ago, a look he hadn't seen in those eyes in far too long. "You're stuck with me … whether you like or not."

"Well I don't like it. What you did … I don't think I can ever … " She shook her head. "I can't ever forget that."

"I never asked you to." He stood up, his eyes falling on the bench. His steps were slow and deliberate as he walked over. It was a rare, snowless December day and he took a seat quickly before turning to look at her.

She watched him for a moment before standing herself and walking the short length from the table to the bench. "I don't know if I can …"

He raised his hand. "We don't have to figure it out today," he said quietly. "I'm not asking you to make promises. I'm not asking you to forget. I'm just asking you to sit here with me."

The hesitation was all over her face as she considered the words.

"You're always here," he said as he gestured to his mind, "And here," he whispered as he placed hand over his heart. "I just want you here." He placed his hand on the empty space next to him. "Because when you're next to me, it all feels right. I know you're safe. I know everything's okay. Everything is right when you're next to me."

She shifted her weight and for a moment he thought she might walk away. He felt his breath catch in his throat as she walked past him, but then, as if someone somewhere heard his silent prayer, she stopped and turned to sit. No words were spoken and yet in one simple gesture, she'd said it all.