She stopped and gripped the folded sweater in her hands as she heard the sound. Surely, if she didn't respond, he'd go away. He'd think better of his choice and simply leave – as she'd asked him to. The second knock seemed to propel her towards the door. All the rage that had been building up inside her now had the smallest chance for release and she let her arm jerk the door open as hard as she could.

"You can't pretend that you're respecting my wishes if …" Her throat seemed to close as her eyes focused on the face in front of her. "Billy," she breathed as she loosened her death grip on the doorknob. "Sorry. I thought you were someone else." She let her breath out slowly as her insides worked to transition from rage to anything else. "What are you doing here?" she finally managed.

"I could ask you the same question."

"I don't know why you would. It's a hotel. People come here all the time, don't they?"

"Phyllis." He sighed. She wasn't planning to make this easy. Of course, when did Phyllis make anything easy? "Can I come in for a minute?"

"You know Billy it really isn't a …" She stopped. The look on his face was one she recognized. In many ways, she saw elements of herself in him. Jack could never understand Billy's decisions – his tendency to be reckless, his need for excitement. She understood. She knew what the thrill of the unknown felt like. She knew what it meant to take chances, to walk on the edge, to crave that rush. He called it addictive behavior. She called it living. Or at least she used to … before everything got tainted. Before she had to start questioning everything she thought and everything she felt.

"Phyllis." She was standing in front of him, but clearly somewhere else entirely. "I asked if I could come in and …"

"Maybe another time Billy. It's just that I'm trying to …"

"Unpack?" Her face instantly changed. "Look, I wasn't trying to listen in or anything, but the two of you were talking in the middle of the entryway and well, you weren't exactly whispering."

She dropped her head and sighed before pulling the door open wider and gesturing for him to step in. "What did you hear?"

"Not everything, but enough to gather that you and Jack are …" He shrugged.

"It's just a … We're just taking a little break. That's all. It's temporary. I just need …"

"That's exactly what he said."

"You talked to Jack?"

"Yeah, I did. I mean it was obvious that he was upset and I was just trying to see if there was anything I could do to help and …"

"Well there's not, okay. Thank you for trying, but there's not anything you can do."

"I'm a good listener … at least that's what they tell me."

She reached for the sweater she'd thrown on the foot of the bed and folded it again. "Trust me, this isn't something you want to hear and honestly, it isn't something I want to talk about, so if you don't mind …" She let her head nod towards the door and hoped he'd get the message.

"I've been there you know." He took a step closer, trying to gauge her reaction.

"Billy." She could feel the burn inside her, the raging hatred that had been building since Jack had told her the truth. She clenched her teeth and bit down hard on her cheek until she tasted the blood. The physical pain was a welcome distraction from the constant battle to keep it together. "I really can't do this right now, okay?"

"I get it. I know it feels like this is the answer, but running away from the problem doesn't make it go away. The problems are still here. They'll follow you. They always do. You and Jack just need to talk. Just sit down and talk things through. You two have been through way too much to let whatever this is break you."

"I don't want to talk to Jack right now, okay? I can't …" She fought to find some way to make it make sense.

"Well then talk to me. Tell me what's going on? I'm sure with my trainwreck of a life I've had worse."

She whirled around to look at him, her eyes now shimmering with tears. "You think you've had worse?" Her hands trembled as she let the sweater, once again unfolded, fall back onto the bed. "You really think that?"

"I'm sure of it. I mean, look at my life. Look at all the messes I've made. Just tell me what's going on. Maybe I can help."

"You can't." The words were mere whispers, desperate sighs of relent. "No one can. No one can fix this. No one can know."

It was her tone that struck him, the almost hopeless sound in it. Phyllis was always so fueled – be it by anger or desire or sheer will, but this … He stepped closer still and reached out to touch her arm. "Hey, whatever's going on, I'm sure it's not all that bad. Sometimes we make things a lot worse than they really are when we run them over and over in our heads. You can tell me. It's …"

"Please just go." Her voice nearly broke as she stared at him and she felt certain she saw him swallow hard at the sudden show of her emotion. "If you really want to help me, Billy. I'm asking you to go."

He nodded. "Okay, if that's really what you want, I'll go, but if you change your mind, just …"

"I won't." The strong, stubborn tone returned almost in an instant. "I'll be fine. I have to handle this on my own." She held her breath as she watched him pass her. It wasn't until she heard the door close behind her that she finally let the tears run down her face.