"The hardest part is that I had a conversation with him," she says, her voice squeaking higher at the end of the sentence, almost like a question. "I spoke to him and I think I might have even touched him and then he could just... I can still hear his voice, you know. I've never forgotten a voice. And this time, I just really wish I could."
"Do you think it'd be better to forget?" Doctor Gregor asks.
She looks to her psychologist, tears bright in her blue eyes.
"What good comes from remembering?"
There's an uncomfortable silence as Doctor Gregor works at the question. It's not long before she settles on a response and sits higher in her chair.
"Your strength, Gillian. You had a traumatic experience and you got through. You're doing remarkably well, I'm sure you know."
Dr. Gregor smiles genuinely and the warmth it brings to her cocoa eyes bring a sort of ease to Gillian.
"I guess," she shrugs.
But she is. She sleeps with the lights off now and she doesn't startle when she's touched. She still feels fear when walking between buildings and her car, but of course that's understandable considering what she'd been through.
Alec doesn't wait for her on the front porch anymore, he actually doesn't even come home at all anymore. They've separated and she's staying at a hotel and her dreams of forever have shattered. It's Murphy's law, really; so many things going wrong, one after the other in quick succession like falling dominoes pushing each other down. She likes to think it will all make a pretty picture in the end.
"I'm, uh, also getting a divorce," she says.
She can see the surprise register on Dr. Gregor's face. Alec had been so supportive all this time, even though he wasn't planning to stay. And she thinks Gillian must be an even more wonderful woman than she had assumed to be so loved and cared for if even her soon-to-be ex-husband couldn't leave her to suffer alone.
"And how are you handling that?" she asks, pulling her focus.
Gillian smiles, pushing her hair behind her ear.
"It's not so bad," she lies.
Dr. Gregor can't tell.
"I have my best friend and he is great about it, really helping."
This is the truth.
Cal really had been great, talking with her when she wanted and keeping her company when the loneliness was overcoming her. He even left her alone when that was what she needed.
"That's great," Dr. Gregor says, looking to the clock.
She isn't desperate to get Gillian out. Their sessions had run long before and as long as there was no patient after, it was never a problem. But Gillian's ready to wrap this up anyway.
"Yeah, things are finally starting to look up, I think," she says.
Her smile touches her eyes this time.
"That really is good to hear," Dr. Gregor says.
It's the sincerity of the woman that makes Gill like her, makes her want to open up.
"It's even better to feel," she admits, the corners of her mouth lifting with her spirits.
When Gillian leaves the clinic, she is greeted by the warmth of the summer sun and the brightness of day. She shields her eyes with a hand at her eyebrow, casting a glance over the half-full parking lot. She smiles when she sees his car pulling up to the curb where she's waiting.
When he comes to a stop, she opens the passenger side door and steps into the car.
"Hey Cal," she greets warmly.
"Hi," he says. Gillian adores the way his voice gets almost as warm and gooey as the desserts she loves so much whenever he addresses her lately.
He leans over the gear shift to press a soft kiss against her mouth. She smiles as he draws away, encouraging a returning smile from him.
"How'd it go?" he asks.
"It was good," she says. "Cathartic."
What she doesn't tell him is that just being this close to him has done her a lot more good than any therapy.
"That's great."
He reaches for her hand, gives it a squeeze, and when she feels his skin warm against hers, she knows that the dominoes had fallen just right. This was supposed to be what was left. The final picture was always meant to be the two of them standing tall together.
She looks into his eyes, fighting to curb another smile.
"Is this the wrong time to tell you that I love you?" she asks.
A surprise expression flits over his face, but it quickly morphs into one of happiness.
"Any time's good," he says. "I love you, too."
"I know," she laughs. "That's one thing I'll never get tired of hearing in your voice."
"Then I'll never stop letting you hear it."
And though she didn't think it possible, the words make her love him even more.