Mary found the silent dance she and Matthew were performing around the kitchen to be a slightly troubling one. Even as she tore at the head of lettuce and washed each green leaf in a colander in the sink, she fought back the urge to turn around and demand answers from him. He, of course, was none the wiser.

It was late now, nearly eight o'clock and perhaps too close to bedtime for the two to prepare supper, much less enjoy it at the pace in which they preferred. This was their life now, at least while Matthew took on several high-profile litigations and Mary did her best not to submit to the exhaustion she felt so close to Gala season. Her pregnancy wore on her, but not as much as the fear she carried on her shoulders thinking about everyone else finding out.

Finally she did turn around. Her hands were still wet and neither paused when she moved to rest one into a fist on her hip. "Have you spoken to Sybil?"

From his position at the stove Matthew turned to her. He smirked, already chuffed by Mary's clear frustration. He'd watched her come home with it and was just waiting for this very moment. "No, not much. She sent me a text today wishing me luck before I went into the courtroom but only small things here and there. I texted her yesterday asking what Italian place she recommended I take a client to."

"That's it?"

In realizing this was not a fleeting conversation, Matthew turned down the stove. He even placed his wooden spatula delicately on the edge of the counter. If Mary weren't so annoyed, she would have scolded him. "Yes, that's it. Was I meant to talk to her?"

"No, I just figured you had. When she's miffed at me, she reaches out to you. It's her way of looking out for me without having to give in…" Mary's voice trailed off. When she returned even she was entertained. "She's far too sweet. It's disgusting, really…"

Matthew chuckled. He went to his fiance and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Are you two arguing?"

Immediately she softened into him, dropping her hand to play with the collar of his shirt - an act that also allowed her to avoid his gaze. "No."

"Then?" He questioned, now asking that she look at him.

"Well she hasn't really reached out to me either. Usually she says good morning and she asks how my day is going and if I'm feeling alright. It's been nearly a month since we've gotten lunch together."

"Maybe...well you're busy with the Gala coming up and she has that surgery. I know she's always working overtime and you're so tired with the baby maybe she doesn't want you to feel obligated to do those things if she asks."

"Or," Mary dragged out, "she didn't like my response when she told me about Tom."

"What response? You said she talked at you...you said she barely gave you time to give much of an opinion."

"Well did she need to? I hate the bloke. That hasn't changed and I'm sure she knows it."

"Then maybe she doesn't want the judgement," Matthew offered up.

"What is there to judge? If she's seeing him every morning because he's her patient, she can't help that and if it's out of her control, there's really no room for judgement."

"Is that the only time she's seeing him?"

Mary's gaze had faltered again, causing her eyes to quickly search for his now. "What do you know?"

Matthew let out another breathy laugh. "I don't know anything...at least nothing about Sybil and Tom's relationship. But I do know Sybil and—"

"Well has she said anything?"

"Love," Matthew sighed, "I told you we really haven't spoken. I just…" There was a pause while Matthew thought of the most pragmatic way to share his notion. He even fixed the grip he had on Mary's midsection and took a step into her so the two were pressed tightly against one another. "I don't...this is hard for Sybil. And it's not hard because Tom is Sybil's patient. It's hard because it's always been hard. I know you don't want to admit it but I think Sybil truly loved Tom and you're going to absolutely laugh but I genuinely think Tom loved her too."

Mary's eyebrows lifted, all before falling to allow the way skepticism spread across her eyes. "Are you sure you haven't talked to her?"

"I swear I haven't," Matthew gave with yet another chortle.

"Do you...have you always felt this way?"

"Honestly? Yeah, I have. I just didn't think it was worth sharing—"

"Because I don't agree?"

"Well, yeah. But like Sybil I didn't want to argue. We don't agree on a lot of things but I still love you. Also, Sybil's not a teenager anymore. It doesn't really matter what I think because she's a grown woman who can make her own decisions."

"I'm just worried that decision is Tom…" Mary pouted.

"It might be. Or maybe she's done a brilliant job of ignoring him and she's just really, really busy. If you're worried, reach out to her. She may be distant now but she's never really lied to you…"

Mary's glance went to Matthew, demanding a correction. "Alright, well she lied to you about her and Tom but—"

"Exactly!"

"That was so many years ago, Mary. If you knew you would have been so upset...I mean, when you found out you were! And before that you texted me so many times asking what I thought or what I knew. But she lied for different reasons. Their relationship wasn't going to be taken lightly, even if you and your family did approve. But you really didn't so I probably would have lied too." Matthew thumbed at Mary's chin in request of her attention. She looked to him, still sad, but warmed all the same by his honesty. "I know we don't like to talk about it but I lied to you about some things once and believe it or not, I did it because I didn't want to hurt you. And like Tom, I made some pretty stupid decisions and you forgave me."

"We were young, Matthew," Mary gave with a drop of her shoulders. "We weren't dating or—"

"But I genuinely knew I loved you then and that scared me so I got angry when I heard about you and Tom and I did some truly idiotic things. Sometimes we push people away for what we think are selfless reasons. But deep down we do it because we don't like who we are...who we've become. I know you'll hate me saying this but you forgave me and things got better. You made me believe it was okay. Maybe Sybil can forgive him too and things might not have the same outcome we did. But I'm sure you can attest to there being a certain relief in forgiveness."

"I—"

"Sybil didn't like me, right? But you forgave me anyway. You had to come to that decision on your own. It's likely Sybil's doing that very thing."

"I just don't want her getting hurt, Matthew."

"She's already hurt, love. Not then but now...maybe if she's not reaching out, you should."

"I can't...I can't support it."

"First off, you don't even know if there's anything to support. Second, she supported you with me. She gave me a second chance. Maybe you owe her the same thing. Just be patient."

Mary's eyes bore into him. "I don't do well with patience."

"Yeah well sometimes you're shit with communication too. That's what I'm here for…"

Mary dropped her head back to laugh. When she returned to him she placed a soft hand to his stubbled cheek. "It's a good thing I forgave you because you make me sound very helpless…"

Matthew chuckled too. "You're hardly helpless. You're just stubborn. Sybil's stubborn too...it's in your blood. At the end of the day, she's going to follow her heart. She'll do what she thinks is right for her...you just may not hear about it right away."

~!~

As soon as Tom arrived home he went for the refrigerator. This was a typical pathway, one that had him grabbing for a bottle of ale and then turning the stove on so he could begin cooking. Today he also turned on his iPod, causing music to fill the room and drown out the shuffling he did to grab ingredients from the nearby pantry.

When he emerged he nearly collided with his sister. The rest of the house was still, quiet enough to where he initially believed he was alone, so he took a step back at the sight of her.

"What now?" Emilee asked, all before he had a chance to criticize her stealth.

"Christ, Em!" He finally gave. "I live here! This is my home!"

"Um, I'm sorry," Emilee groaned, rolling her eyes. "I didn't mean to catch you off guard, I just heard the music and—"

"Did you not hear me turn off the alarm? Because that happened too. You're not being robbed...it's just your brother coming home at the same time he always does on Thursdays."

Emilee studied him, doing so in an intense manner that had her eyes narrowing and her arms crossed over her chest. "What is up with you?"

"I'm making dinner," Tom said, gesturing to the food now on the counter.

"No...something's up."

"You have good and bad days too, don't you?"

Emilee places a fingertip to her lips, still trying to figure him out. It was the same way she had treated Rory when the teenager came home late after a night of partying. "I do but I don't blow up at my brother when he inquires about them. Why are you so tense?"

"I'm not tense. Actually, before you had to make a stupid comment, I was pretty relaxed."

Emilee was in awe, slightly offended but also pleased. With her answer she dropped her hands to her sides and took a step back like an artist admiring their work. "Holy fuck, you saw her, didn't you?"

"Who?"

"Sybil," Emilee responded, saying her name as if it was the only one in the world.

"I see her almost everyday…" Tom breathed out.

"No, you saw her outside of the hospital. She fucking gave you the time of day. You're a little shit and she's still that same sweet girl you fell in love with." Emilee looked away to shake off a laugh. "You lucky fucking bastard."

"I'm hardly lucky," he stated quickly. To show this, he began to move, first to the stove to warm some oil and then to a nearby cutting board where he chopped at an onion. He had been doing this for so many years he didn't even flinch at the acidity.

"You seem pretty happy...well, not happy. But satisfied. Your life's still shit, of course, but you don't look as annoyed as you usually do. In fact, I haven't seen you this happy in quite some time."

"I was happy the other day at Rory's football match. She did well," Tom reminded, also doing his best to steer her away from the subject.

Emilee exhaled, now moving to lean on the nearby countertop so she could continue to diagnose her brother. "Finding joy in your job and your niece isn't a fulfilling life, Tom."

"Oh yeah?" He snapped. "And how's your love life?"

She was just as fast to respond. "I left a place that I love because my ex-boyfriend beat the shit out of me. You tell me."

The room grew quiet and Tom realized, once again, how insensitive he was capable of being. It was as if he met Sybil and began feeling entirely too much and only when he pushed her away was he able to shut down again.

"Fuck, Em, I'm sorry…"

With eyes glossed over by tears, she stared straight ahead, her focus lost out the window above the sink. "I haven't said that out loud. Still. Yet," she added. "It sounds even more fucked up."

Tom abandoned his items at the stove and went to her. "There are good guys out there, you know. You just picked a really shite one and I get how you can't control what you're feeling but I'm hoping this is shining a bit of light onto things."

"You were a good guy," she reminded, moving her upper body toward him as if to give point such a thing out. "I've been seeing that version of you lately. I missed him…"

"I'm...I'm a good guy for Rory."

"Yeah and I love you for that. But I appreciate you letting me in. You stopped doing that for awhile...and by awhile I mean several years. Seven, in fact."

"Well I miss my older sister and the way she once looked at the world with such optimism."

"I'm a mum now," Emilee shrugged. Her brother's subtle criticism did nothing to change her situation. "Rory is my priority. The rest of it can go to hell for all I care."

"Don't you want that for her?"

"What? Love?" she scoffed. "Maybe you and I can show her there's more to life than love."

"I don't think that's fair."

Emilee's demeanor was lost; she was now angry at Tom but for different reasons. "You know, why can you want these things for her and for me, but you can't want them for yourself?"

"Oh, I do want them," Tom gave, his body in motion now as he headed back toward the stove. There were things he also didn't wish to discuss, and this, the very topic at hand, was one of them. "But I blew that chance."

"Yeah and I thought my life was over, Tom!" Emilee reminded with raised volume. "I thought that when I first got pregnant and I thought it again when Pat hit me. I'm done thinking that way," she spat.

"Yeah, well I'm not," Tom said, not even turning away from his place at the sink to do so. "I've accepted it."

"You just went out to eat with her. She saw you outside the hospital. I don't know if it's time to throw in the towel yet."

"Yeah? Well what if I already have?"

"Then pick it the fuck up and get over yourself," Emilee delivered sternly. "The worst you can do is have false hope and really, what have you had all along?"

"No hope," Tom deadpanned.

Emilee did not laugh. In fact, she was somewhat incensed by his comment. Tom had always asked that she be kind to herself and now he couldn't do the same. "That's bollocks and you know it."

"You know, why are you rooting for this all of a sudden?" He asked, his arms extended to show his clear indignance.

"I wouldn't say I'm rooting for anything but I'm certainly not against it. I once thought that it wasn't fair that you were happy and I wasn't. Now I have realized you're an insufferable arse and have been less so lately all because she's back in your life. Even if you don't deserve her...even if she eventually turns you down...she's made you easier to handle."

"So this is really all selfish?" Tom questioned over his shoulder. He'd returned to his meal and was now mixing several vegetables in the hot frying pan. "You're putting up with Sybil being back in my life because it makes it more manageable to put up with me?"

Emilee sighed. "Why do you always tell me to stay away from Pat?"

"Because he's a disgusting human being," Tom returned flatly.

"Alright. What else?"

"He makes you feel horrible about yourself and that's bullshit." Tom's answers came so easily, he did not hesitate to grab for several spices from the nearby rack.

"Okay. And what did you just say to me? I should do more than just be a mum. You want me to be happy, Tom. Maybe we're both old enough to realize that means letting the other person make their own decisions. I got pregnant and that changed me and then Pat came back and I'm different again. You eventually learn. London's been pretty okay so far. It's not Kinsale, but it will do. Rory's happy and work's okay for me. Maybe things aren't meant to work out the first time."

"They did though. They worked and I fucked it up."

Emilee took her own advice and equated Tom's irritation with emotions that could be directed anywhere but in her direction. "Grand," she said cheerily, but mostly in sarcasm. "We've established that. Many times. Now fucking fix it."

~!~

Their usual Monday meeting did not take place in the exam room in the way it typically did. Instead everyone gathered in Dr. Frye's office with Tom sitting before the doctor while the interns stood idly by, all of them leaning on a radiator near the window.

In front of them, Dr. Frye hid his face behind a file. The pages were rolled over the top while he studied the test results that hid underneath. It was clear Ben had prepared the document because he was struggling to decipher most of it. It also did not help that Dr. Frye had been out the week before, leaving Sybil, William, and Ben to conduct all of Tom's cardioversions.

"Why do most of these seem inconclusive?" He asked, now placing the file on his desk. All of this room was neat and until the man spoke, Tom spent his time looking around. Usually he'd pass the time on his phone, or he'd be so concentrated on his discussions with Dr. Frye that he didn't have time to take in all of the degrees and awards that filled each and every wall. Tom imagined Sybil's office would look like this someday - neat and filled with all she had worked so hard to achieve — at least that was what he had hoped for her.

"Well…" Ben began, already stammering when he'd barely delivered a thought. "The machine wasn't working properly…there...it was—"

Sybil stepped forward in his defense. "The electrode pads weren't delivering the right amount of current."

"Yeah," Ben confirmed. "And there was a delay in the shock so we couldn't pick up a consistent beat."

Dr. Frye nodded. He was always so calculated, no one thought twice when he took a long pause before speaking again. "Did none of you think this was important to tell me?"

"We figured we'd wait for the results to come back in," Ben explained.

"Well they're here," Dr. Frye pointed in jest. His words told a different story, that of frustration and disappointment. He dropped the file down onto his desk. It landed with a flat thud while it displaced all of the tense air around it. "And they're useless." He reached up to rub at his eyes, rolling the pads of his fingers against his eyes in a way that was both pleasant and uncomfortable.

"Can't we just do another one?" Tom offered. He sounded annoyed as well. "I mean, you just roll one of the machines in here and—"

"It's not that simple," Sybil stated, rolling her eyes. "There's prep and—"

"Didn't seem like there was too much prep on my end," Tom gave simply.

Sybil started again, this time with a determination that was encouraged by his curt nature. "If the machine's broken—"

"Maybe someone just doesn't know how to use it…" He stated simply, all while looking to Ben.

"That's really unfair," Sybil corrected. "You're not a doctor. It was the machine….stop being such a baby."

Tom had looked to Sybil but now slowly turned around in his seat. He shrugged and Dr. Frye sighed out, unsure of how to handle such an unlikely situation. He couldn't relieve Sybil of her duties but lately her actions toward Tom failed to give him any other choice.

"What are you doing next Friday?" Dr. Frye asked. It was his thoughts he was banishing now.

"I thought I'd skip work and throw a midday banger. Everyone's invited, of course," Tom stated sarcastically. When no one laughed, he sighed out and continued. "Nothing. No class on Fridays. What do you need? Do we have to do another one of these?"

"There's no prep, remember?" Sybil sassed. "Shouldn't be too much of an inconvenience."

Again, Tom could only deflate. He was tired and arguing with Sybil was the last thing he wished to do, but his main priority was getting her to succeed and he was being more conscious now to see how he could exist in her life and still have that happen. "Sure. Fine. Grand," he said. "What time?"

"Let's do nine," Dr. Frye decided. "I have a meeting at eight so everyone else can prep you."

Tom stood. Immediately he grabbed for his bag as if to make his first gesture toward the door. "Awesome. Anything else?"

Dr. Frye shook his head. Deep down he fought the urge to close his eyes again, knowing that to do so was to admit defeat. He needed Tom even more than he needed Sybil; he had practically chosen her for the single reason of having her assist him on this surgery and yet no operation would exist if Tom decided to quit the trial.

The residents grabbed their items as well, mostly files and cellphones that laid on the nearby conference table. In her exasperation, Sybil didn't even think to wait for William before exiting the room. Halfway down the hallway she was still so lost in her own vexation that her best friend had to say her name several times to gain her attention.

"Sybil! Wait, would you?"

She turned on her heel, her face flushed and her eyes wide to show that she truly hadn't heard him calling out for her. "What? Sorry…" She shook her head to dismiss the pieces of fringe that fell out of her messy bun.

"You okay?" He asked, almost breathless.

She thought for a moment. Her gaze left his and when it returned, she gave a small smile, as if to apologize for the truth. "No. I'm not."

~!~

When William arrived home, he did so quietly. Gwen's door was shut and the absence of light from underneath told him that she had already gone on her date with Rob. He was an investment banker, a more serious version of all of the other men she'd been with before him. All summer he'd watched her jump to and from relationship, unsure of whether it was her indecisiveness or overall fear of falling that had her constantly craving someone new. In a way, he admired her for that. He had only managed a few nights out with men that actually concerned themselves with his day. Usually William left only enough time for the occasional one-night stand. He didn't get their numbers and he honestly didn't care to; there were millions like him — millions of people in this world that felt just as lonely and unfulfilled as he often did. At least Gwen was brave enough to want more.

Sybil was home, but William didn't even bother to look. To do so would have taken him an extra effort, as her bedroom was toward the back of their flat. It was likely she was working late, or taking a spin class downtown. She disappeared on them sometimes, purposefully not inviting her friends so she could exist on her own. There was sanity in that being a choice due to the absolute heartbreak she once experienced when no other option was given.

Fresh out of the shower William laid back on his bed. He tapped at his typical phone applications: instagram, twitter, facebook, and grindr. Maybe he still had time to get ready and go out. Maybe Gwen would arrive home soon so he could ask if she wished to join him; the mere extended offer (even when denied) somehow made him feel better about what would ultimately be deemed a poor decision.

Before he could move, Sybil stepped into his doorway. Her appearance was not a graceful one, and William let out a small laugh as she began to walk toward him. She pouted, only accenting the mess of curls she tied back and how she wore clothing she had most likely stolen from him. Her petite form swam in the fabric and yet she immediately snuggled into her best friend, almost to ask for some of his warmth.

It didn't take much thought for him to roll to her, the two staring at one another like children ready to whisper beneath bedsheets long after they'd already been told to retire to bed. William's dark skin contrasted with her pale features. All of her was bare — raw — and only with her this close was William able to see just how sad Sybil looked. This was not exhaustion, or boredom. Instead she wore a smile and eyes that showed nothing but concern. Her lips existed on a precipice, humming gently while they thought of the best way to share something so private. It was instantly effortless; William simply couldn't be angry at her anymore.

"I'll tell you but you can't tell anyone," she gave softly. Her mouth still seemed to tremble and he wondered what it was she had been hiding from him. Suddenly he was nervous too.

William tried a typical tactic, one that always managed to make her smile. "Tell anyone? A secret? All my own? Oh boy!"

Sybil did not falter. In fact, it seemed to break her more. "No, Will...I'm serious, okay? You're the first to know and hopefully the only one. And if I cry—"

His eyes narrowed and his forehead creased under the pressure of confusion. "Oh no...you know how emotional I get when other people get emotional..."

"Yeah, well I don't," Sybil dismissed. There was a seriousness in her timbre that told William that the things his best friend was ready to share with him held an inexplicable weight. The only time he'd ever heard her sound so passionate was when she was discussing her cardiology career. "I can't do emotional anymore," Sybil began to explain. As she continued, her eyes darted away from his. "I've committed my life to anatomy and now this is suddenly more than just vessels and valves."

"Poetic."

Her gaze bounced back to his. "It's not. It's hell."

"What's hell?"

"Still loving him."

William's features escaped him. Sybil had only revealed something he knew to be true and yet the sound of it had him feeling shaken. "Oh, Syb..." He reached out for her back, working to pull her even closer. He was far larger than she was and the task was usually an easy one but Sybil had since moved to cover her face with her hands, making it so her crying had essentially pushed him away.

"It's...we...it was a long time ago and it all happened right before Harvard and he's—"

Sybil didn't need to say Tom's name for William to know who she was referring to. All of her was because of him lately and he wondered if she was aware of that fact. She must have been and now that was practically confirmed.

William forced a smile in sympathy. "I don't know if I need the full story, babe. I mean, does it matter? If you feel this way now..."

"I've always felt this way," she tried, even through her tears. Her hands fell away from her face but her vision was still clouded by all of her sorrow. Each tear painted her cheeks in a fiery pink, making William wonder if there was also anger in this reaction. "Do you know how scary that is?" Sybil continued. "To admit that to yourself? How pathetic am I?"

He began to run his hand in soft circles on Sybil's back. She was still not as close as he would have liked, but he gave her his support all the same. She was certainly closer than she had been lately — closer than she'd been since that first morning meeting with Tom.

"Considering he looked absolutely overjoyed to see you...not very. At least not any more pathetic than he was...is," William settled.

"Why does he want me?" Sybil nearly shrieked. There was anger and he saw it now. William wondered if her indifference would have diminished if it were Tom holding her now. "He pushed me away and now he wants me back."

"Are you sure he wants you back?"

"Yes," Sybil breathed out. She was calm again and the sight was unnerving. "And this just confirms what most people know isn't true...and I'm ungrateful. Gwen and you agonize over whether or not some shitty bloke thinks about you. Why do you want them to think about you anyway? You deserve better. And honestly, they're probably not thinking of you," she admitted honestly, mostly with disregard. Sybil didn't need to reiterate all of the love she felt her best friends had deserved. It was all they hoped for her too but never voiced due to her clear disregard for the topic. "But I've always wondered that. And now I know...he thought about me as much as I thought about him. He still does."

"And you?"

"Of course I do. Still. I never stopped." Sybil's delivery was such an earnest one that William almost cried too.

"Is that the secret?"

"That's the secret."

If there were errors in this chapter, I apologize. I had an insane week at work and was waiting until I had solid time to donate to this so when it was finally done tonight I was just really excited to post it. Tell me what you think? So many guest reviews last chapter and I really loved reading what everyone had to say. I only wish some of you had usernames so I could respond.

x. Elle