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Chapter Twenty-Seven:
I woke up alone, again, but that was expected. I could tell I wasn't making much progress—Gil might hate Debbie less, but he didn't love her any more. And if he didn't love her more now than before the crash, it meant that he still didn't love me at all.
I was the first up again, and showered and straightened my hair again quickly, dressing in jeans and a nicer blouse—Gil's first lecture was today and I wanted to go to it. I'm sure he meant for me to spend the day with his mother and Wes, but I would not have missed this lecture for anything in the world had I never known the man… I didn't think that now that I was more or less married to him that I should have to miss it. And Wesley was a quiet kid, especially quiet lately, and… his mother could lip read. There should be no reason either of them didn't want to see him speak.
Worst case scenario, they could spend the day together again. I wanted to see at least one lecture, if I couldn't finagle all of them.
I moved into the living room after dressing and surveyed the man on the couch with a soft smile—his curls were rumbled and rather fluffier than normal, and his face was drawn and tight, a leg stretched out on the coffee table in search of some extra room. He looked like he hadn't slept well at all… maybe I should insist on sleeping with Wes so that he could have a room alone. It wasn't fair that he sleep on the couch simply because he couldn't stand being so close to me.
Wes was up shortly after I had coffee started and by the time I'd dressed and changed him, bringing him out on my hip, Gil was sitting up, squinting in the early morning light, watching the coffee pot across the suite with something akin to longing. I chuckled, setting Wes down and pouring him a cup. I brought it to him as he scooped the child who had run to him into his lap and he looked at me quite sincerely when he thanked me for the cup.
For the very first time since I'd known the man, I felt like he saw me. Not Debbie. Me.
It was enough to make me need to sit from the trembling in my knees.
His lecture was at 10:30, so we had enough time to eat a leisurely breakfast downstairs after he and his mother had showered and dressed. When I suggested we all attend his lecture, Gil had frowned at me, reminding me with no small amount of irritation that his mother was deaf. To which the woman had responded that that had never stopped her from attending a lecture in the past. I smiled at Elaina, and after some brief hesitation, she returned it.
And I immediately felt guilty.
We walked to his lecture hall—he was giving a speech he could have done in his sleep, and had only a small box of slides for this one. I held Wesley's hand while Gil carried his slides and offered his mother his free arm. I knew that he did it because he worried she wouldn't hear a car or something… but she didn't need the assistance, she just liked the closeness with her son.
We arrived a good half hour before the lecture was due to start. We sat in the back so that we could leave easily if Wes got whiny or impatient with sitting still while he set his stuff up and though we were so early, within ten minutes there were students and faculty and community members arriving, filtering in slowly, to hear the Great Gil Grissom speak about forensics and how much the recent developments in the field had revolutionized our justice system. I would know it all, but I was still excited. I had trouble hiding my anticipation from his mother and Wes kept pointing down to Gil at the podium and announcing "Daddy!"
He wasn't loud, however, so I hoped it wouldn't be a problem.
Right at 10:30, Gil stepped up to the podium and the entire lecture hall seemed to hush in anticipation. I found myself immensely proud of him and of the smile that graced his face. As much as he had wanted to stay in Vegas to work on the case, he was in his element here.
The seats were in a semi-circle around his podium, yet he made sure that even when his eyes scanned the entire room, his mouth remained visible to us—for his mother. She smiled too, realizing this. He was such a good man, really—through and through. I knew this about him, but somehow I never ceased to be amazed by it. I was enthralled by him and his lecture and his insight so much that I hardly noticed anyone else in the building—until he glanced at something in the front row and stuttered, looking away to get himself a drink of water.
He excused himself and picked up where he'd left off, and his eyes did not seem drawn to nor away from whatever had caused him to stutter, but I was curious. There had been something…
I leaned forward in my chair, on the pretense of adjusting Wes in my lap—there was a blond in the front row. She had long hair that she kept tossing over her shoulders, which gave me opportunity to appraise her profile, at least. …She might as well have been a supermodel. But there had to be something else… he would have noticed her beauty immediately. I kept watching, suspicious.
She uncrossed and recrossed long, perfect legs encased in a short black skirt, but the manner in which she did so was… strange. It hit me like a slap in the face. She was doing it to draw his attention… and she was slumped back enough in her chair that he would have a more than advantageous view of her underwear while doing so.
I didn't know if I was more shocked or angry… No, that's a lie. It was definitely angry. How dare she proposition my husband?! …Er, well… Debbie's husband. Our husband. ...It didn't matter whose husband he was—he was wearing a damned wedding ring and she was spreading her legs to him like some sort of…
People were around me clapping, a few even standing, and I realized he'd finished. Picking Wesley from my lap and standing to put him on my hip, I clapped too, overcome with anger. Wesley clapped and yelled "Daddy!" again, which would have been adorable, but I… I was just so…
Elaina tapped my arm, and we moved down the stairs towards him, where he was surrounded by people asking questions. The blonde finished her question and slipped by him, brushing her body completely against his as she did, and though he looked surprised, there was a slight smile on his face as well. I felt blind with rage. His wife and child and mother were in the audience and he smiled when a moral-less bimbo rubbed herself against him in public?
I bit back my anger when we reached him, telling him how good he'd done as his mother hugged him and he took Wes into his arms as well. But on the walk home, I couldn't entirely contain it.
"What did you ladies want to do for the rest of the day? We could spend the day by the pool at the hotel?"
"We could go to the aquarium by Pier 39… I bet Wes would like that." I suggested.
He shrugged. "That could be fun… although, I'm kind of tired. Maybe we could do that tomorrow and stay close today…"
"Well as long as it's what you want, I suppose that's what we'll do." I snapped, my arms across my chest and my nails digging into my arms. He frowned, glancing at his mother, who was now a few paces in front of us with Wesley, petting a dog on a leash while his owner smiled and answered her questions.
He looked back to me. "Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?"
I scowled, but then I had already gone this far. "Just that everything is on your terms. You make all the decisions."
He raised an eyebrow. "Really? Was I the one who decided to sleep with every doctor at Desert Palm? Or to stop sleeping with my husband? Or to take a meaningless shopping trip to San Francisco when my husband was in the middle of a huge career case? The career he was only pursuing because I said I wouldn't marry him if he was only going to be a CSI?"
I blinked, surprised once again at the depth of Debbie's selfishness… but then, I was still in the fight. I had never been one to control my anger. It didn't matter that he was right—I had to fight back.
"You haven't exactly been perfect, you know?"
He scowled. "Oh? Do enlighten me how I've hurt you, Debbie."
It was all I could do to maintain the lower tone of voice we'd been speaking in due to the people around us—I wanted to scream. "What color was your blonde-in-the-first-row's underwear, I wonder?" My voice was all venom, all spite, all hurt.
He paused for a moment, taken aback… and then his features hardened. "She wasn't wearing any."
He turned away from me, caught up with his mother, and scooped Wesley up in his arms. They continued walking, and I was left to follow behind.
