"These are called feelings, Ziva."
Ziva David slammed the door of the women's restroom shut, quickly scanning the room for others and upon finding none, slumped onto the edges of the sink. She grasped them so hard her knuckles turned white, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She'd felt better than this after swimming the English Channel.
Tony had just blatantly expressed how little he cared for her.
"You are still deeply troubled."
She wished she'd never said that. What the hell was the matter with her? Why couldn't she just leave people alone? She blamed her Mossad training-without it, she wouldn't have the urge to read people and push to get to the bottom of everything she did not know…
"Feelings you need to let go."
How did she expect him to respond to that? Of course he would say oppose her. Did she think that he was going to gather her up in his arms or something? Or say that he loved her all along and that he was willing to let go of his love for Jeanne for her.
Of course not.
Anthony DiNozzo was bound to say something stupid, to make some smartass comment that would make her feel stupid and regret ever caring. But she did care. She couldn't stop caring.
Ziva David loved Tony DiNozzo, not DiNardo.
And she hated it.
