Chapter 48

Lightman Group Offices

"Okay, if that's what you think you want...I'll be honest with you."

"Why would you think it's not what I want?"

Gillian Foster let his words linger. Of course she knew the truth meant everything to him and if anyone wasn't afraid of the truth being harsh and ugly it was Cal Lightman.

But the truth was always different when it concerned the people you loved.

She'd watched the world's greatest deception expert deceive himself about the state of his own marriage for a long time before he was willing to accept that truth.

Had watched him torment himself over the death of his mother, even though that truth was staring him in the face too.

It's always different.

Cal asked the question gently, all the anger from their earlier argument gone now.

Part of her wanted to answer him honestly too. And another part of her wanted anything but.

Because I'm not sure you want to be with someone who's broken.

Because I'm scared that if I tell you the truth it might scare you.

Because it scares me.

"I haven't been okay since the shooting," she finally admitted out loud. "And I don't know what do about it. It scares me, Cal...because if I don't know, who does? I'm the expert here...I can't even count the number of vets I treated for a whole assortment of post-traumatic stress disorders back at the Pentagon and here I am, useless at helping myself."

"You think you should be able to?" he questioned.

"Yeah...I think so."

"You think a surgeon should be able to operate on herself too?"

"Not the same thing..."

"Yeah, it is, Gill. It is."

They were both sitting on the leather sofa in the back room of his office, her legs curled underneath her and his bum knee stretched out straight and resting on the coffee table. Cal's hand was underneath the wool blanket that covered her legs, resting on her thigh and periodically giving it a little squeeze.

"We've never talked about what happened the night I got shot. What happened before I got to your place," he told her. "I need to know."

Gillian shook her head. No, he didn't. She saw no reason to spell it out for him. Saw no possible benefit in it for either of them.

"But even more than that, I think it's time you talked about it. Time you stopped carrying all that baggage on your own."

"Cal..."

"Tell me," he insisted.

"There's no point to this!"

"I disagree."

"Come on, Cal..."

"Tell me."

For a moment she considered turning around, getting up and leaving because she felt angry and defeated for letting him corner her like this.

Wasn't the truth enough? He needed detail too?

"Gillian..."

She didn't get up. Instead, tears started to roll down her cheeks and she expected to see pity on his face when she turned to him this time. But she didn't.

"We were supposed to meet up that night, you and I...to go to the airport and pick up Emily," she started. "So when I heard a knock on the door...I thought it was you. Even though I should've known better, I remember you called and you said twenty minutes and it had been barely five. I should've looked through the peephole...if I done that then..."

"Then he would have found another way in," Cal cut her off.

"Maybe..." Gillian nodded reluctantly. "When I saw who it was, I slammed the door and tried to push him out but he was too strong. He...he rammed the door in my direction, so hard that I fell backwards. I could hear my head hitting the floor...and then I remember him yanking me back up. I'm not sure how he did it. It all happened so fast." Gillian shuddered at the recollection. "He pulled out a gun and I...I was just trying to focus. We started talking and at the same time I started to put two and two together. He wanted me to lure you to my place. To shoot you the minute you walked though my door...and then to kill me with the same gun, to make it look like a murder-suicide. Kline denied it but when I pressed...he even gave me reasons why it would work." She took a deep breath, feeling light-headed all of a sudden. "Ironically, he didn't have to do anything. Kline got my phone and he saw your text. He knew you were coming over. It was all just...falling into place for him. I knew then that I had to do something...I couldn't just sit and wait for you to walk into his trap."

"You attacked him."

It wasn't a question and Gillian saw the hurt on Cal's face when he said it. He tried to cover up his emotions as soon as he revealed them. But he wasn't the only lie detector in the room.

"Yeah...I did."

"What happened?"

"I lunged at him." Gillian told him. "I tried to rip his eyes out."

A sliver of a smile escaped his lips. "That's my girl."

"I caught him by surprise and he dropped his gun." Gillian closed her eyes and wished she could turn back time. Wished she could have made a couple of right decisions that night instead of so many wrong ones. "I tried to get it...but it was the wrong move. I should have kept trying to hurt him instead."

"Were you supposed to know how to fight off a guy twice your size?" Cal questioned her. "Do you have any idea how much guts it took to attack him at all?"

"I went for the gun," she told him. "And that gave him enough time to get back on his feet." Gillian exhaled. This was the worst part. A handful of seconds that she hadn't planned on ever sharing with anyone. "He got on top of me. He pressed his hands over my mouth and then he just...he was so...heavy and strong..." This was so impossible to explain, the feeling that he was crushing her. The way his knees were digging into her. "I couldn't breathe...I thought he was going to kill me."

Cal squeezed her hand.

"But he didn't. It felt like he was on top of me forever but maybe it wasn't even that long. I have no idea anymore. It's like time stood still. Before I knew it I was sitting up again. Everything was so fuzzy...I thought I was going to throw up all over him. But that didn't happen either."

"What happened?"

"I realized that I was still alive and still had a chance...I tried to reason with him. Convince him that he'd never get away with it. That all he had to contend with right now was...an assault charge."

"Take it he didn't listen?"

Gillian shook her head. "I kept trying...and then I saw you. I don't know how you knew to sneak into the house."

"The text message he sent," Cal explained. "I knew it didn't come from you."

"How?"

"Doesn't matter."

Gillian stared at him. The revelation stunned her. Although it shouldn't have. She should have questioned his clandestine entrance a long time ago. "You knew? But why...why risk coming into my place on your own if you knew?"

"I did call the cops but I kinda figured you were in trouble. I was closer than they were."

Gillian shook her head in disbelief. "Why would you do that? Why would you take that risk?"

"Same reason you lunged at a guy who was holding a gun at your head. We were both a little desperate that night."

"Cal...if you hadn't done that you wouldn't been shot!"

"If I wasn't there to distract him, maybe he'd have killed you the moment he saw the cops busting through the door."

Gillian swallowed. "I can't believe..."

"Don't," he cut her off. "Don't go back and think of a million things we shoulda done differently when every single thing we did brought us here. We survived that monster. Means we did every damn thing exactly as we should've."

"You don't believe that..."

"Yeah...I do."

Cal took her hand in his and forced her back to the present. "Have you been back to your place since the shooting? I mean...really been back?"

He already knew that she hadn't but clearly he wanted her to admit it to him.

"I tried. Twice. First time I didn't get far. The second time I asked Alex to come with me but it wasn't much better. I had a panic attack both times." It felt strange to say that out loud too.

"How come you didn't tell me any of this?" He wasn't accusing her. He only wanted to know.

Gillian shrugged. "Because I wanted to believe it wasn't important. Talking about it meant acknowledging it and you had enough on your plate without worrying about this too. But also because... it scares me...I'm scared that what happened that night changed me and that it's turning me into someone that I don't want to be."

Cal wiped away some of her tears with his thumb. "Changed you how?"

"I'm scared all the time, Cal. I can't walk down the hallway at the office without being terrified that someone will jump out at me from behind a closed door. I run to the car at the end of the day...because I can't stand to be alone in the parking garage. I used to love being by myself...and now I can't stand it. It terrifies me. I can't sleep because every time I close my eyes...I see him. I see his face all the time..." She paused when he handed her a tissue. "I haven't felt good...physically, since that night. I can't eat because most of the time my stomach is in knots and I'm so tired...I can't think straight, but I don't want to stop working because that's the only time when he doesn't fill my thoughts. Work and when I'm with you."

She was sobbing now and he'd moved closer to her, an arm around her shoulder pulled her into his embrace.

"That's the truth, Cal. I'm a mess and I don't know what to do about it."

His head nestled closer and he kissed her above her temple, his lips grazing her hair. "S'alright, luv."

"It's not." She couldn't stop crying.

"Now it's not, maybe it won't be for the next bit...but eventually it's gonna be. Promise."

There was so much certainty in his voice that it was hard not to believe him.

Gillian leaned into him, her eyelids heavy and her head pounding. Exhausted.

A lot of therapists believed that full disclosure was cathartic. She didn't always agree. Besides, there were just as many studies that dismissed its importance as there were those that hailed it.

But now that she told Cal everything, Gillian was glad there was no more deception between them. It was a literal weight that fell off her shoulders and it felt good. Because, contrary to what they'd said earlier, that was really what they needed in order for their relationship to survive. More so than equality and a willingness to finish a fight, they needed honesty and trust.

Given their skills, anything less than that was playing with fire.


Later

Lightman Residence

Cal Lightman sat downstairs on the sofa, watching the sunlight slowly filter through the half-closed blinds and light up the room.

Moritz stared at him with unblinking eyes, itching to go for a walk.

"Gimme me another twenty minutes," he yawned at the dog. It was an understatement to say it had been a rough night. He'd convinced Gillian to come back home with him. Had rifled through the small bag of prescription medications he'd taken home from the hospital a month ago and found some sedatives he'd never used.

Had handed her one and made her take it in spite of her protests. Granted she didn't have much fight left in her by the time they finally made it back home at one in the morning.

It wasn't a long-term solution. They both knew it, but it was a start. She was so desperate for a couple of nights of sleep that maybe once she got them and wasn't too tired to think straight they could sit down and discuss the next steps.

It was late morning now and she was still in bed and Cal wasn't going to be the one to wake her. If she slept through the afternoon so be it.

He'd held onto her last night until she fell asleep after taking a painkiller himself for his knee, thinking that would send him into oblivion too. But it didn't. He couldn't shut off his wired brain from thinking about every single thing that Gillian had told him.

"I had to do something...I couldn't just sit and wait for you to walk into his trap."

Cal imagined her lunging at a man holding a gun at her face and doing it without hesitation because it was his life hanging in the balance. Because she was ready to do whatever it took to stop Kline from taking his life.

You don't even know how brave you are.

Then he'd inched closer to her in the darkness of the night and kissed her bare shoulders, grateful that she was back here in his space. Because with every passing day he was falling a little deeper in love.

She hadn't wanted to tell him how much night was tormenting her because Gillian didn't want him to think she was broken, when nothing could be further from the truth. Cal didn't love her in spite of being able to feel too deeply, he loved her because of it. It's what made her an amazing friend and therapist.

But it made her vulnerable too, and that was easy to forget, because she was so good at keeping it hidden below the surface and never letting anyone think she needed help.

"I couldn't breathe...I thought he was going to kill me...it felt like he was on top of me forever."

Cal balled his hand into a fist. Anger was the other emotion that wouldn't let him sleep. Anger that he'd always be deprived of unleashing his wrath on Hunter Kline.

Cal's eyes darted from the clock on the wall that told him it was almost eleven in the morning to Moritz whose plaintive looks told him he was overdue for his morning walk.

"Alright then. Let's get you out of the house before you decide to do your business inside."

"I'll take him," a voice from the hallway responded.

Cal turned sideways to see Gillian approach him and Moritz, fickle bugger that he was, rubbing up against her legs already.

"See if I make you that offer again, disloyal beast."

Gillian smirked. "Any port in a storm."

Cal looked up at her. She was wearing a wool sweater and jeans, her hair wavy and still wet at the ends. She must have hopped in the shower without him hearing it. "Thought you were sleeping."

"It's eleven o'clock," she told him. "I panicked when I woke up and saw it was ten-thirty. I called Torres but she said you'd already called the office and told them I wasn't coming in until later this afternoon, if at all."

"Thought I'd beat them to it, before they called you in a panic."

Gillian sat down next to him and Moritz cradled his massive head in her lap as soon as she did. "Guess I'm playing hooky for another couple of hours at least."

"You sleep okay?"

"I feel like I slept for days."

"Good," Cal nodded. It was a start.

Gillian bent down to kiss Moritz on top of his head. "Poor guy, if we make him wait any longer his bladder might explode on top of your Persian rug."

"I'll take him," Cal offered but Gillian was already on her feet.

"Your knee must be killing you after all that walking you did last night."

"It's alright, I've got another one."

Gillian rolled her eyes. "Feel free to make me breakfast in the meantime."

"That I can do," he agreed, stifling anther yawn. "How do you like your beans and toast?"

"On second thought, maybe I'll grab a coffee on our walk."

"Can you bring me back one of those fancy teas then? Maybe a bagel too..."

But she was already out of earshot.

Or ignoring him.

Probably the latter.


Later

The smells that greeted her when she opened the door were nice and most definitely not beans and toast. French toast maybe, because she detected cinnamon and best of all, fresh brewed coffee.

"Stay," she ordered the big dog as she slipped out of her coat. It was still chilly outside but it wasn't a bitter winter cold anymore.

Gillian took off her shoes and went to grab a wet towel to wipe down Moritz's muddy paws. Made the dog stay put until she was done and he was clean enough to traipse over to the fireplace where she knew he'd spend the rest of the morning snoring.

"Hmmm...smells nice," she pointed out, after she stepped into the kitchen. Cal was standing by the stove flipping a piece of toast in a frying pan, while wearing an ill-fitting apron. "It is French toast."

"Figured if I made you something sweet and fluffy you'd eat it."

The night's sleep and the long walk did make her feel hungry for the first time in days. "What about you?"

Cal pointed to a can of beans sitting on the counter. "Those are going over mine. That pricy bottle of maple syrup from Canada is all yours."

She gave him a nudge. "Go on, sit down. I'll finish it."

But he wouldn't have it. Offended. "You sit down. Still capable of making breakfast."

Gillian raised her hands. "Fine then."

She did as he asked and noticed that the table was already set. Plates, cutlery, a pot of coffee for her and a kettle with hot water for him. She couldn't remember the last time they sat down for breakfast together.

Cal hobbled over to her with a plate of two thick slices of French toast, doused with a liberal amount of powder sugar. "Dig in."

She wanted to because it looked delicious but she waited until he finished cooking his portion and sat down at the table next to her with an open can of beans.

Gillian winced. "You're really going to do it? Dump those beans over the toast?"

He scooped out a tablespoon of beans and heaped them on his toast while she poured syrup on hers. "You have no idea what you're missing."

She bit into her toast, not surprised that it tasted even better than it looked. He was a surprisingly good cook when he made the effort. "This is really good. Maybe I should run the company and you could just stay home and cook and clean and walk the dog."

Cal shrugged. "Might be good for business."

"As if you could stay away from the office."

"Been at home for almost two months now," he pointed out.

He had a point. Although she knew he was going to start climbing the walls soon if that didn't change. "Hmm...true."

"I'm going back next week," he announced.

"I see." There was no point in questioning it, even if she didn't think he was ready. The way he said it made it clear that it wasn't up for debate.

"You'll need all the help you can get with this new contract."

That was true. "I do," she agreed. "More than that actually. We'll need to hire more staff."

"Alright."

Gillian's mouth was full and she raised her brows a little, surprised at his lack of resistance. Staffing and payroll had always been a bone of contention between them. Not that she was about to question the ease with which he agreed with her. Besides, she was right. They desperately needed more people to handle their new workload because Alex wasn't ready to take on his own cases yet, probably wouldn't be for some time.

"How's the food?"

"Really good." It was, although she was getting full and probably wouldn't tackle the second slice. It was everything else that she enjoyed just as much. Sitting here in the cozy kitchen with him. Having a normal conversation.

Gillian got up and washed the dishes when they were done, deciding there weren't enough to justify sticking them in the dishwasher. Cal, restless and unable to stay seated, got up and stood next to her, leaning against the counter until she put the last mug into the drying rack.

"I should get changed. Get to work."

Cal grinned. "Need help getting out of your clothes?"

She didn't resist when he hooked two fingers into her jeans and pulled her close.

She loved the way his smile lit up his entire face and how her body responded when he looked at her the way he did now.

Gillian wasn't able to focus on his eyes for long because he leaned in to kiss her, his hands on her upper arms, partly for balance and mostly to give him better access. She tilted her head back and let him in, letting his lips run a soft trail of kisses that started near her ears and then moved lower, gentle and slow. Making her grateful that she'd opted for the v-neck sweater this morning instead of the turtleneck.

By the time his lips came full circle back to hers, she was itching to join in. One of her legs slinked around his, arms wrapped around each other now and bodies pressed close. Kissing Cal Lightman was always a full-body contact sport. Her favourite athletic activity.

"Love you," he mumbled when he came up for air.

Her lower lip throbbed and craved for more.

Cal surely noticed her dilated pupils because he stepped closer still, his fingers slowly lifting up the fabric of her sweater, trailing along her side. It was making her all sorts of hot and bothered. Gillian raised her arms and obliged him, letting him take it off. He did it so smoothly that her sweater was on the floor of the kitchen in seconds. He put his arms on hers and turned her around, alternating between massaging and kissing her shoulders, slowly turning her legs and the rest of her body into mush.

Foreplay wasn't one of their strengths, or at least it hadn't been so far, with both of them being impatient and eager every time. They hadn't been lovers long enough. But this was making her think that maybe he'd been holding out. It thrilled her to think that they still had loads to discover and learn about each other.

She returned the favour by moving her hands lower too, into his jeans, until they reached his upper thighs while her lips and teeth found an earlobe to latch onto.

Cal took his time unhooking her bra once she gave him the space to do it, kissing her breasts and the nape of her neck until she was certain that she no longer had the willpower for things to end there.

Her breathing getting heavier and Gillian could feel the deepening rise and fall of his breath. It wasn't the only thing growing warm and heavy against her body.

"So beautiful," he whispered, moist lips lingering on her breasts.

Her eyes motioned to the twin-sized bed they still hadn't moved from the living room. They couldn't exactly do this standing up. Not when he was mostly balancing himself on one leg.

That was all the invitation Cal needed. Arms still entwined they moved over to the bed. Not her first choice, but she was too impatient to make their way up the stairs.

Gillian stopped Cal before he was about to lie down.

"My turn," she told him, unbuttoning his short-sleeved shirt. She was always undressed so much faster than he was and that was all her fault. Gillian always took her time, letting her fingers linger on his skin and this time they stopped when they found the small bandage that covered what was left of his chest wound.

It took her back to that night again. Even now, when that was the last thing on her mind. Made her shiver a little as her stomach did a few flip flops. She pressed her hand against the dressing, grateful that she could feel his heartbeat underneath.

Then she felt his fingers around her wrist, gently moving it aside. "S'alright, luv."

"You sure you're ready for this?" she whispered, hoping he wouldn't see how badly she wanted him to say yes and how badly she wanted him inside of her, filling her up. Needing his strength and love to crush some of the other things she no longer wanted inside of her. They hadn't had sex since the shooting.

He pushed a strand of hair behind her ears. "Been up for it since the day I got out of the hospital."

"You wish."

"Gonna prove it to you by doing it and not dying. What is gonna kill me is if I have to wait one more..."

"Okay, okay...point taken." She put an index finger on his lips, letting him know that talking was only going to slow them down. Getting back to the business of getting him out of his clothes. One shirt off, one pair of well-worn jeans to go.

He pulled her onto his lap after she took off the rest of her own clothes, before she gave him a little shove so that he was lying on his back, taking over as she moved to straddle him. She wasn't the only one who lost weight these past couple of months. Cal was leaner too, enough so that she could see the contours of various muscles that lined his belly, admiring what she saw. It always baffled her that he was in such good shape. Maybe he exercised while no one was looking. Or maybe the amount of physical energy he exerted with every single movement was plenty of exercise.

Gillian arched her back, cat-like, before stretching out her arms and pressing her hands down flat next to his face. More creative options would have to wait a little longer. It didn't matter. Sheer pleasure emanated from his grin. Cal's hands hooked onto her hips and he pulled her down, letting their bodies begin moving in a steady, mutual rhythm. Holding back until he could see that she might just die if he waited one more second. That was something he was damn good at, because he wanted it to be good for her and had a shocking amount of self-control when it came down to the wire. The fact he could read her with ease once she let her walls down didn't hurt either.

And he loved to read her face when they were making love.

When it was over, and it wasn't until they'd gone a second round, Gillian was ready to fall back into blissful slumber curled into him on the too-small bed. And then start all over again when she woke up. Because there was nothing better than lying in his arms and feeling his skin on hers.

It occurred to her then, that this was the release she'd been seeking last night. Not alcohol or cocaine. Cal Lightman making love to her was her drug of choice and she was fine with that.

"Told you I was ready," he mumbled, his good leg draped over hers, a part of his face covered with strands of her hair because it was burrowed into her space. Gillian could feel his stubble brush against her cheeks.

"Glad we got that cleared up."

"Yeah. Me too."

"I really should get dressed for work."

"No, you shouldn't. Stay."

Gillian groaned. It was so tempting. To stay here, under the covers with him for days. Weeks even.

"Can't...there's so much to do to set up the Meridian contract. I have a meeting with Jamieson at three today..." If she were to miss it, it would start them off on the wrong foot and there was no way she'd let that happen. Not after they worked so hard to get this far.

She pushed herself off the bed. Then turned around to kiss him one last time. "This morning...everything. It was perfect. Thank you."

"Gill..."

"Yeah?"

"Can you do it for one more week?"

"Do what?"

"Run the place."

"Of course..." Her eyes narrowed. She had every intention of doing it for more than a week. Even if he did insist on going back too. Even though he might not trust her state of mind these days. "I need to work, Cal. If I don't it'll be worse..."

"Not like this."

Gillian didn't like the turn this conversation was taking.

"One more week," he reiterated, unexpectedly pensive. "Then we change things."

"Cal..."

"Change things for the better." He took her hand and kissed it. "Because I love you and I need you to be alright."

Gillian exhaled. "Okay. Fine." It was hard to protest when he said it like that. Lying there without any clothes on, distracting as hell, lips on her skin, all while making it abundantly clear that he was going to be her rock, whether or not she was asking him to be.