Here we have it: chapter three. I'm fairly happy with it, I hope you will enjoy. If you do, please do leave me a review, it really does inspire me to write.
She spends the rest of the week helping David -or Jeffrey, as she's taken to calling him- get settled into the city and avoiding Cal. It's not until almost a full week after their big fight that they even talk to each other again.
It's ten o'clock on a thuesdaymorning when he appears in her office, holding a big pile of papers. "Morning," he says. "Brought the files you asked for." He walks over to her desk and lies the papers down right in the middle of it.
"I asked Loker to bring me those," she says coolly. He looks down at his shoes. "Yeah, I know," he says. "Told him to bugger off. Look, I don't want to fight with you," he looks up at her, a smug smile on his face. "So why don't we just drop this, for now, okay?" he asks.
She sighs. "Fine," she says. And with those words they've made friends again. But it's only two days later that the 'dropping-it' agreement falls again.
After a morning of working outside of the office with Cal, they walk into the building together, only to see Jeffrey already waiting for her at the reception.
As soon as Cal sees him, his smile falls and his face hardens. "I.. we're going to lunch," she tells him. "See you in an hour?" she asks. Cal nods but doesn't say anything. Just then, Jeffrey walks over to them.
"Hey Gill," he says, reaching over to hug her and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Hey," she says, quickly detaching herself from him and grabbing his hand. "Shall we?" she asks. "Yeah," he says, but then turns around to face Cal.
"Cal, it's good to see you again," he says. "Yes, Jeff, is it now?" Cal asks in a mock-friendly tone. "Let's go," Gillian says, pulling Jeffrey's hand and shooting Cal a warning look. "Just a sec, Foster," Cal says. "Old friends catching up."
He crosses his arms and looks Jeffrey up and down. "Listen, Jeff," he says sneering. "If you ever hurt her again, I promise you, this time I will kill you." He's smiling the words, which doesn't make them sound any less threatening.
"Cal!" she says angrily. Jeffrey tries to say something, but Cal interrupts him before he gets the chance. "No, don't say anything," he says. "Just wanted you to know that, understood?" He walks away, leaving both of them stunned.
When Jeffrey drops her off at the office again an hour later, she immediately heads for Cal's office, her high heels making a threatening, clicking sound as she walks through the hallways at a rapid speed.
"I will kill you?" she says as soon as she's burst through his door. "Really? That's your idea of 'dropping it'?" she asks. "Love," he starts, but she stops him. "No, don't do that, okay?" she says.
"Don't call me 'love'. Don't tell me you're not going to meddle anymore, in what is clearly my decision, and then in the next moment start threatening my boyfriend!" she yells. "If you've got something to say, talk to me. Don't pretend that we're 'fine' and then pull this shit on me!"
"Look," he says, "I'm sorry, alright? I shouldn't have done that. I was upset. I tried talking to you, but you won't listen to me!" he says. "Yeah, well that's because you kept yelling at me!" she says.
They're both quiet for a few seconds. "Okay, you're right," he says. "I'm sorry about that, too. Sorry for all of it." He gets up from his seat and walks over to her, putting his hands on her shoulders.
"Do you think," he asks, "maybe, we can have a conversation about this? Without yelling?" A smug grin appears on his face. She can't suppress a smile. "Yeah," she says. "Let's try that."
"Good," he says. "Wanna come over for dinner tonight? I'll even make my special spaghetti," he says, the grin on his face widening. "Okay," she says. "I'll be there."
She goes home with him after work and, true to his word, Cal does make a very tasty batch of spaghetti and meatballs. They eat toghether, laughing and talking, having a generally good time, feeling very nearly like their pre-Jeffrey days.
It's almost ten p.m. when they put away the last of the dishes, but still neither one of them has mentioned Jeffrey.
"Can I poor you a drink, love?" Cal asks, holding up a bottle of whisky. "Yeah, I'd love some," she says. He poors them two glasses and sits down next to her on the couch.
He empties his glass in one swig and sets it back on the table, before putting his arm around her shoulder. "Listen sweetheart," he says, turning his face to look at her. "I just want you to be happy, you know? And I think you deserve better than him."
"People change, Cal," she says. "He says he has, and I want to give him a chance to show me that." Cal shakes his head. "Don't care," he says. "You still deserve better than him."
She laughs scoffingly. "Who then?" she asks. "Did you have somebody better in mind? Even if I did agree with you that he's not good enough for me, which I don't, obviously, nobody else wants me." The words taste dry and bitter in her mouth and she immediately wishes she hadn't said them.
"I didn't mean it like that," she whispers, but the damage has already been done. Cal is looking at her with a worried frown deeply engraved inbetween his eyes. "Well you'd better not," he says, stroking her hair with his hand.
"Cause nothing you could say could be further from the truth, okay? You're amazing," he says. "And you can't settle for this man, simply because you're afraid, 'cause that's what it is Gill, you're afraid no one better will come along. They will, alright?"
"It's not like that," she says, trying to swallow back the heat she feels rising up in her throat. She grabs her drink from the table and takes a big sip of the alcoholic bevarage.
"O, it's not then?" Cal asks, a light sneer edging the tone of his voice. "Then give me an honest answer. Are you in love with him?" he asks.
"Cal, it's not that simple," she says, wrenching her hands together. "Question's very simple, love," Cal says, shrugging his shoulders. "Yes or no?"
She quickly swallows back the rest of her drink and holds up the empty glass. "Pour me another?" she asks. Cal fills up both their glasses before sitting back down beside her.
"So, you're not then," he says, putting his feet up on the table. "In love with him, that is."
"I told you," she says, taking a sip of her newly poured drink, "it's not that simple. There's a lot of history there, a lot of memories. It's… just complicated."
"Nothing complicated about it," Cal says, shrugging. "You either love the man, or you don't. That's got nothing to do with history or memories. It's only got to do with today."
"No, I don't think I agree," she says, shaking her head. "I think a relationship is about so much more than just 'today'. In fact I think it's about so much more than just 'love'. It's also about wanting the same things, and about whether or not you have a future together."
She takes another sip of her whisky. "You know, I just want that boring, domestic family-life," she says, staring at her glass. "I want marriage, I want children, while I still can." She looks up at Cal. "I think Jeffrey wants those things, too."
If Jeffrey could give her a family, she thinks she could love him just for that alone.
Cal wraps an arm around her and she puts her head on his shoulder. "Well, of course all of that's important, too," Cal says. "'s Just, call me a romantic, but I really think to ever truly be happy together, you gotta fall in love, first."
She doesn't say anything back, just sits there silently, breathing in the scent of his cologne. "Then again," he continues, "I've fallen in love, probably a thousand times in my life, and I've never been truly happy with any woman."
She feels the stubbles on his chin softly scratching against her forehead as he turns his head and smiles. "Well, except you and Em, of course," he says. "That's different."
She doesn't know why she suddenly feels a pang of regret in her chest. Like the dull, ingrained ache of an old wound that was there all along, but after a new kick to it feels fresh and raw again.
"Still," he says, as she remains quiet. "I think you're kidding yourself by starting a relationship with somebody you're not in love with. 's Your choice. But I don't think this is gonna make you happy."
"Is it?" she asks. "My choice, I mean?" After eliminating staying alone for the rest of her life as an option, she doesn't think she's really got much of a choice left.
"What do you mean?" Cal asks, rubbing cirkles on her shoulder with his thumb. "I don't know," she whispers. "I'm tired," she says, letting out a yawn.
Cal takes her now empty glass from her hands and sets it on the table along with his own.
He puts his thumb and index finger on her chin and gently turns her head to look up at him. "You do have a choice here, love," he whispers, looking into her eyes. He's close enough she can feel his breath on her face, smelling like the whisky they've been drinking.
"Yeah?" she whispers. "What's that?" He leans into her a little bit more, until his lips are only half an inch away from hers. For a moment she thinks he's going to kiss her, but then he turns his head away and moves his hand off her chin.
He's been all about her giving honest answers all night, but he never does answer her question. She's prone to calling him a hypocrite, but they promised each other no argueing, so she let's it slide by.
Besides, it would probably ruïn the moment, and she's actually not at all uncomfortable lying against him, safely wrapped inside his arms.
She wonders if maybe, if she would have had a choice, she would have wanted him to kiss her just now, and she's startled by the thought.
Later that night, or maybe early in the morning, after she's finally gone home, she lies in bed wide awake, staring into the darkness. She tries to think about Jeffrey, who used to be David, but she can't shake her mind from Cal, who's never been anything but that.
Cal's eyes, staring into hers from only two inches away. Cal's arms, wrapped protectively around her body. Cal's voice, telling her not to be afraid. Cal's lips, coming dangerously close to her own.
She's never allowed herself to wonder about Cal in any sort of romantic way, to think about what might have been if they had met at different times in their life, under different circumstances.
If there hadn't been a Zoey or an Alec, nor a Doyle or a Finch when they met, and if life had allowed them to become more than best friends, before the thought of losing that friendship scared the both of them out of their minds.
But now she couldn't stop thinking about the stinging pain she'd felt when Cal called her 'different' from the women he'd fallen in love with.
Even if she could love him, or does love him, or whatever grammar's accurate; it doesn't matter if he'll never look at her that way.
She pulls her blanket up over her head and tries to fall asleep.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Please review, I love reading your thoughts about the story. Next up, chapter four: Emily has something to say about what's happening...