A/N: So, here's one more chapter. Sorry for taking longer than usual to update, my Uni exams are killing me!

Thanks again for the great reviews! I appreciate them a lot. =)

For those who have asked and/or are wondering, this isn't the last chapter. I'm thinking about one or two more, but I'll be sure to let you know when I reach the end.

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The days go on, and I watch the time pass before my eyes. I don't actually live, I just exist; I exist somewhere, sometime, as in a different dimension.

Cuddy gives me one week off, so that I can recover, after I nearly kill a patient by forgetting to dissolve the concentration of his medicine. Apparently, I've lost my capacity to care, to help, to do good. Somehow, I don't even care about that.

My brother calls me everyday and tries to cheer me up, to make me laugh. I appreciate his effort, but it doesn't have much of an effect on me.

I force myself to eat at least once a day, but I don't feel hungry at all, and I can't even feel the taste of what I'm eating.

I never try calling her. I know she probably changed her number, and even if she didn't, I know her well enough to be sure she won't be answering it unless she's sure of who's calling, so even using a pay-phone wouldn't work. I think about borrowing one of our co-workers phones; they would gladly let me, but she wouldn't answer them either. So I give up without even trying.

I never thought I would be so weak. But then, again, I never thought I would be abandoned. Daniel left me, it's true, but it wasn't his will to do so; he didn't choose to die, and he loved me until the very end, the same way I loved him. With Chase, I wast the one who left, I was the one who didn't love back.

But Remy, she has left me. She has stopped loving me. Now, I feel worthless, unloved, alone. And I don't think I can stand this feeling.

Anyway, I force myself to move on, at least on the outside. One week later, I'm back to PPTH. I hope that, by focusing on my patients, I can forget myself and my pain.

A mere couple of hours after I start working, Foreman comes down to see how I'm doing. He's been a good friend to me, despite the fact that, years ago, I stole his girlfriend. He is engaged now, to a really nice girl, and I hope their marriage works out very well.

We go to the cafeteria to grab some coffee, and he leads me to a side table, looking for as much privacy as we can get. I don't understand his behavior, but then he says he has something to tell me. And he drops the bomb on my hands: Remy has resigned, with the intention of looking for a job somewhere else.

Of course, in the back of my mind, I already knew she was going to do it. In the end, I can't believe she would be so cold as to leave me without a word, disappear, and then come back to work as if nothing had ever happened between us.

But, deep down, I still had hopes that she would show up, that I'd be able to, at least, ask her for an explanation. And my hopes have just been shattered.

She has been around, she has been to the hospital, and hasn't bothered to come talk to me.

I can't even believe that was the woman I lived with for three years. I used to think I knew her better than anyone else, but now I feel like I never knew her at all, because the Remy I thought I knew would never be so indifferent to my feelings, so willing to forget all we've lived together.

We've been through so much, and we've always supported each other. She helped me get through my divorce. She helped me face my parents and overcome the fact that they turned their backs on me because I was with a woman. She helped me learn how to love again, lose my fear of getting involved (something Robert could never do, and that was basically the reason why our marriage failed).

And I know I've helped her as well. I've helped her come to terms with herself, with the fact that none of the treatments she tried had any effects on the progression of her Huntington's...And that's when it hit me.

Her Huntington's. The only thing that had prevented her from being in relationships for quite a while. The only thing that had made her fearful of getting serious with me, of letting me in, although we both knew she wanted to, as she showed it in every way she could.

My heart skips a bit with that sudden epiphany. My chest grows heavy, and I suddenly find it hard to remember how to inhale and exhale.

She must have started displaying the first symptoms. That would scare her to death, and would certainly make her question herself all over again if we should be together. We've had this conversation every time a treatment failed, and I had somehow managed to convince her, in all of them, that there was still a chance, that someone might still discover a new drug, that she was going to be fine and live with me for many and many more years.

But all of those arguments will mean nothing if she has showed any symptoms. A tremor, a twitch, small as it might have been, in her mind, will weigh much more than all the hope in the world, and could make her change her mind faster than a lightning. I know that. I see now that I was wrong: I do know her, after all.

And I know I have to find her. I know she needs me. She needs my love, she needs my help to carry the burden that is probably crushing her right now.

I don't know where she is, but it suddenly occurs to me that, in her hurry to go away, she left her address book behind, and her father's address is surely there. She must've told him where she was going to. I turn around, not caring to explain to Foreman the turmoil that's been happening inside my mind for the last minutes, and run out of the hospital and towards my car.

As I run, a wave of guilt comes over me, when I think about how selfish I've been in the last week, caring only about my pain, when she has been feeling pain even greater all alone, to protect me.

I hate myself for ever doubting her love for me. I hate myself for not being with her, for not thinking about it sooner, for being so fucking stupid and self-centered.

Hot, angry tears gush from my eyes, blinding me, but I keep running. I've got to get to her as soon as I can; I cannot waste a single second.

I never see anything coming in my direction. I only realize something hit me when I am already on the ground. My whole body aches terribly for a few seconds, but then, everything just goes black, and the pain fades away.

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A/N: Why are Cameron's chapters always longer than Thirteen's ones? lol