I leave the war room as quickly as I'm able to get away without it being obvious. When I get to the elevator, I give the button a hard jab. It doesn't really relieve the frustration that I'm feeling.

Will and Bingo Bob, at this point, in my head, I don't really give him the honor of calling him the Vice-President, are plotting ways to capitalize on the media blitz surrounding Vinick's faith or lack thereof. I kept my head down and stayed out of it for the most part, until they started brainstorming ways to make Santos' Catholic faith an issue. Then I bailed.

I'm a Protestant. Just barely, much to my Grandmother's dismay. But President Bartlet is Catholic and I love him beyond measure. I just couldn't stand to hear their ideas on how to make Catholicism a negative.

Not to mention how short-sighted it is! We don't have the nomination wrapped up. It's no time to alienate anyone!

When I get to the lobby, I stride out of the elevator and head toward the bar. I'm certainly no tea-totaler but I've never felt as driven to drink as I have in the last few months. Not even at the height of the insanity of working for Josh.

Half way across the room, I stop short. What was that my Grandmother used to say? Speak of the devil and he shall appear?

Because sitting at the bar, is someone I'd recognize anywhere. Shoulders slightly hunched. Rumpled suit. Out of control auburn hair.

I feel a pang lance through my chest. God. I miss him. I miss his cocky brilliance. I miss his snarky wit, that even as it teased, never devolved into meanness. I miss his eyes following me around the room. I miss being able to look at him for a nod of approval, and suddenly feeling the confidence that I'm doing okay. I don't just miss him. I miss us. The way we used to be.

I'm tempted to turn on my heel and walk way. I don't know if I can stand to see the sadness in his eyes that haunts me after each of our encounters. I betrayed him. He's hurting and it's my fault.

I try to summon my anger because that's what it takes for me to get through these casual interactions, but the problem is, it's almost all gone.

Once I got out here on my own, I realized that Josh didn't hold me back. Almost everything I know, almost everything I'm capable of doing, is because of what he taught me. Will's alright, but he's no Josh. There could never be another Josh.

I hadn't realized it, but my feet have been taking me slowly closer to the bar. I guess I really am drawn to him. There's just something about him. I've known it since day one. I've tried to run from it twice now.

I finally acknowledge that I need to be near him, and slide into the seat next to him.

"Hey."

"I was wondering if you were going to come over."

"How'd you know I was behind you?"

He tilts his head toward the large mirror behind the bar.

"Aaaah."

"You looked furious. I was wondering if that anger was about to be unleashed on me." His voice is soft, a little uncertain.

"Not this time."

I drop my head onto my arms. I'm suddenly very tired. I want to win. To prove myself. But the more I learn about my candidate, the less I like. Josh was right. He refused to back a candidate he didn't believe in. Win or lose, he can be proud of himself. I'm wondering whether I'll feel proud of myself under either outcome.

"Are you alright?"

He puts a hand gently on my shoulder, and I suddenly find myself wanting to cry. I'm sure it's just the lack of sleep, but it's been awhile since I felt like someone cared about how I was feeling. For the better part of a year, I've been trying to convince myself and everyone else that I'm fine.

And God. I didn't realize how much I missed him touching me until this moment. And God. I can't stand the thought that he might never touch me again.

Because I was hurting, and angry, and confused. I told him I was over him. I left him. I moved on.

But I still feel unfulfilled.

Turns out it wasn't a different job with a better title, and more authority, and better pay that I needed.

Will I ever get over loving this man? Anger didn't work. Maybe honesty will.

And if I'm rejected then maybe my heart will break for good, and I really will be able to let go. I blink a few times and then I finally look up into his warm brown eyes.

"I miss you."

He gives me a sad smile. "I miss you too, Donnatella." Hearing my name on his lips gives me a sudden surge of courage and I blurt out the only thing that might possibly make me feel better.

"I love you."