"So if in the future I might need myself a savior
I'll remember what was written on that wall
That we don't eat until your father's at the table
We don't drink until the devil's turned to dust
Never once has any man I've met been able to love
So if I were you, I'd have a little trust"
James Mcmorrow - We Don't Eat
At first, Chloe acts as if nothing special has ever happened: your meant-to-be-boyfriend turned out to be some very certain King of Hell and flew away from the balcony, leaving you wondering about "What the Hell?" Certainly, nothing special has happened. So, Chloe does what she always does in situations of frustration: she drowns herself in work.
Endless boring cases, stupid police-calls, neighbors reporting about aliens at the back yard, someone calls over a lost cheeseburger which 911 accidentally forwarded to homicide department or the sun rising which some unfortunate drunken fellow misplaced for the fire, or someone's poor cat getting stuck between tree branches. One woman called because she thought her house was being shot at. Turns out she forgot about her eggs boiling on the stove and they exploded. Ella says that the old lady might need a hug and offers one to Chloe instead. Chloe feels as if she is somehow ended up in a crazy fairytale fantasy, or maybe she's just lost her mind somewhere in the middle of the road. She misses her old cases. She misses her previous mad life, trying to play pretend. Until she doesn't.
There is no trace of Lucifer which is not surprising to her at all and that odd heartache might be linked to her forever postponed and a much-needed visit to a doctor and it doesn't have anything in common with her inner wondering about his possible whereabouts. Because it turns out, she is pretty well aware of where he exactly is but it doesn't make her feel better. Not even an inch.
Next time she is struggling with her paperwork, Maze breaks into the department and cries out loud that someone has been trying to steal his Corvette, with no possible success, mind you, but still, and secondly, the authorities are trying to close Lux now. His Lux. Chloe doesn't need to be a Seer to understand who "He" is and why possible criminals avoid the club after they met one unfortunate demon and one just big brother. Chloe is not even trying to act in terms of the law, leaving the case for Dan to deal with. She leaves her workplace like some coward she has never been and runs away with no possible destination. Chloe Decker is a strong woman, she has to be.
It is not until Amenadiel asks her almost casually: "Have you ever tried talking to him?"
Chloe just blinks in response: "As if... as if in prayer?"
Her lament statement makes her snigger: praying for the Devil. To the Devil? Praying for the angel he long forgot how to be. She sneaks to Lux, to his penthouse and stares at the sky for God knows how many hours. She hates to admit it to herself: she misses him like crazy.
It is not until she loses her bullet-pendant during one extremely dangerous operation, including A-Team, escaped drug-dealer and a teenage girl, whose premature demise leaves her brokenhearted, like every case she ever dealt with, like she once was told by Lucifer when they shared their remarkable kiss near the seaside. She feels lost with no possible reason. Chloe pretends not to notice but her behavior is crystal clear to everyone. So, Ella offers her one of her endless warm hugs and a cup of cappuccino with a sparkling foam. Maze suggests a girls' night-out with drunken games, knives' throwing and quite possible one-stands in the end. Linda gently provides her with full attention and tells her about moving on. Linda thinks that Chloe got stuck in the Denial phase but Chloe just doesn't care. She is no quitter, after all. She is just a master of self-deception.
So, she leaves her completely failed operation and sneaks to the Penthouse, still storing invisible traces of his presence. There are his three-piece suits costing half a budget of Scotland, his bottles of whiskey, a drink he drinks for the sake of taste and not because of intoxication. There is probably someone's frilly lingerie hidden in one of his closets or sex-toys left after one of the endless orgies, Chloe rolls her eyes at this silly statement and keeps following invisible traces. And then, of course, there is the piano. His piano. Chloe refuses thinking about Lucifer in the past tense; he is still there, somewhere below, taking care of one of the supreme goals. In capital letters. Heaven, Hell, angels, demons, celestials, Chloe doesn't care about high purposes, not in these past-midnight hours. She lets herself forget about his wings and his faces, his powers, and his vulnerability, all of these things run counter to her pragmatic understanding of reality. She just misses her almost-boyfriend-to-be.
Chloe absentmindedly reaches for her bullet-chain and doesn't find any, so she looks at the sky, crying, and it is her very own cold and broken Hallelujah.
"You had no right! You all up there, do you hear me? You had no right at all taking him away like this!"
From me… whispers something in her head and she closes her eyes. And she doesn't care that it was his decision. His so-called free will. His ultimate purpose.
"That's what happens when you are in love with the Devil, girl, congratulations!" she tells herself and returns from the balcony. She cannot convince herself to try and actually talk to Lucifer like Amenadiel once suggested, so she enters his bedroom instead and curls under the covers of his pathetic four-poster bed which is so very much like him, it hurts.
Chloe closes her eyes and hides her face in his pillow, still smelling like him. It's her own secret sanctuary of a love-never-meant-to-be. She is drifting away, whispering chokingly:
"I miss you, I miss you, I miss you…"
She almost hears his mocking phrase:
"If this is what turned out to be a much-needed redemption, I couldn't care less"
Chloe falls asleep to the sound of the wind howling, of raindrops dripping on the window and of his scent never leaving her. Always pragmatic and forever brave Chloe Decker is really tired of playing pretend.
She opens her eyes with the first rays of sunlight peeking through the blinds, with the last star shine fading into the night, the stars of his creation. Something nudges at her palm and she opens her hand curiously. She gasps at the revelation: there's a bullet-pendant lying on it, her bullet-pendant. His present. And an angel feather beside her pillow. She brings the feather to her lips and smiles a teary smile.
She hears his: "Have a little trust, Detective" in the song of morning wind.
She decides to believe.
"Goodbye, my love, until I see you again"