A/N: This is an extremely short chapter, but the next one's coming very soon. I promise.
I forgot to wish you a Happy Pi Day this morning! How silly of me!
Chuck sits despondently on the bed, his gaze averted.
Once again, her heart plummets at the realization of how estranged they've become. She used to be so comfortable in his presence. He used to be the one she could empty her soul to. He used to care for her when she needed to confide in someone. And now they can't even carry on a civil conversation without a thousand emotions bubbling to the surface and threatening to drown them.
Just as she's about to give up for the night, she hears him say in a choked voice, "You never said goodbye."
Her eyes start to sting, but she pushes back the tears. "Chuck . . ." she says softly, "Chuck, I'm so sorry. I just . . . I couldn't . . . without . . ." Her voice trails off. How can she describe the pain she felt that day?
He runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. Before he can collect himself and ask her to leave, she decides that she has to be willing to share everything with him in order for her to expect him to forgive her.
"Chuck, please," she says as she takes a seat on the bed next to him. He gazes at her with a hurt look in his eyes, and she can see that he's close to breaking. After struggling to keep her emotions in check, she knows exactly how he feels. "Chuck, I can't apologize enough. And I've never been good at apologizing. But you have to believe me when I tell you that it wasn't my choice to leave. Graham thought I was getting too close to you, and he reassigned me without any warning."
She takes a deep breath, and feels courageous enough to place a hand on his cheek. It's their first real contact, and she remembers with a pang how good it feels just to touch him. "I'm so, so sorry, Chuck. I never meant to hurt you. But I couldn't say goodbye. Because I knew if I did, then I'd never want to leave you."
He shakes his head, and she drops her hand. "I wanted so much just to hate you," he confesses in a forced voice. "But I couldn't. . . . I couldn't."
"Chuck," she pleads, "I could apologize every day for the next hundred years, and it still wouldn't be enough. But I'm here, right now, and you need to know that as much as I hurt you . . ." She falters. "The pain I felt was self-inflicted, and all the worse because of that."
He looks her straight in the eyes, and the struggle inside him is visible.
She has no words left, mainly because she's not the best with words, and so can think of only one thing to do.
She kisses him.
Expecting him to pull away, her touch is hesitant. But to her surprise, he opens himself up and sinks into the kiss, enfolding her in his arms.
As her body conforms to his, all the pain of the last two years melts away.