She wakes in the middle of the night on her living room couch, cramped and sore and clutching her cell phone tightly to her chest. She shifts into a more comfortable position, lifting her phone and clicking the button that brings the screen to life. She checks the call log hurriedly, hoping she'd slept through the ringing, but there'd been no incoming calls.
She sighs in disappointment, tossing her cell phone onto the coffee table and rising into sitting.
She shouldn't have expected a different result; it was Einstein's version of insanity for sure. He had told her already that this wasn't what he wanted and nothing had changed. Nothing had changed, so why was she so sure he would tell her yes this time. What made it different?
'I made it different,' she thinks, but only for a second before discarding the idea.
She stands from the couch and goes up the stairs to her bedroom, flicking off the lights that illuminate her path. The dark makes it easier somehow.
Cal lies restlessly in bed, going over and over her words in his head.
'If by chance you want to try this, too...'
He turns over again, flipping the blanket over his head in attempt to shut off the thoughts. It's the same battle all over again. Hurt her by being with her or hurt her by saying no? Which is worse? Which would ensure her happiness most longterm?
Sure, it would hurt her to be rejected by him a second time, but that wound would heal. That wound would heal and then she'd find someone else. And he would be happy for her as long as she was happy, no matter how much he'd ache inside his chest.
But if he followed his own desire, she would be wounded over and over in a torturous cycle. They'd be good together, happy for days, weeks, months and then he'd muck it up and hurt her. And he'd apologise and make things right and soon she would heal back up again. And he'd ruin things all over again, hurt her all over again. That had to be the worst thing, right? That had to be what'd hurt her most. Could he really commit to doing that to her?
He squeezes his eyes shut tighter as he imagines her pain right now, sees what his initial rejection had done. She hasn't been herself, hasn't been Gill or even Dr. Foster. What if a second rejection would push her away for good?
With images of her distress burned across his retinas, he doesn't sleep at all that night.
Gillian spends the next day holed up in her office, giving Cal lease to avoid her. It was her promise, not to read him, and she doesn't think she'd be able to restrain herself if he was a standing tease in front of her eyes.
A knock sounds on her office door and she looks up to see Torres standing there. She gestures for her to come in and wipes the contemplative expression from her face.
"Need something?" she asks expectantly as she looks at Torres' face, frustration lining the features.
"You gotta do something about Lightman. He's brooding and- what's that?" Torres gestures at Gillian's face.
Gillian schools her face, evens her tone.
"What's what?"
Torres narrows her eyes, placing her hand on her hip.
"I know that look," she declares in an attempt to seem stern.
"Really?" Gillian asks, urging her tone towards innocent. "What is it?"
Gillian'd never been so sarcastic with her employee before and she sees the shock cross over her face.
"I know that look," she insists, shaken now she's been called on her bluff.
"Just can't put my finger on the name," she adds under her breath.
She's gone before she finishes talking about Cal, being thrown off of her game. Gillian waits until she's out of earshot, then lets out a sigh of relief.
It's past eight when she finally runs out of work to do. She saves her spreadsheet and powers down the computer, standing up to stretch her tired limbs. She squats to put back on the heels that she'd slipped off while working and when she stands, she finds herself staring right at Cal.
"Hi," she greets warmly, trying to ignore the flip flop her stomach does.
"Hello love. Productive day, was it?" he asks, tone gentler than it's been in a long time.
He's letting her hear the love in it and that could mean one of two very different things. Either he's going to let himself love her or merely trying to let her down easy.
"Very," she replies, a smile curling up on her face despite herself.
"Good, good," he nods, sticking his hands into his pants pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels.
"What is it?" Gillian implores, becoming increasingly agitated by his behaviour.
"I think we need to have a chat, Gillian."
Gillian presses her lips together.
"Okay," she agrees hesitantly.
"Okay," he replies.
A/N: Yeah, I lied. There's one more chapter after this one. But, I'm not cruel. I waited a bit to post, so you can have your ending right now, too. Hope you enjoy :)
