April, 2005

"CJ." His voice broke her heart. It was filled with sorrow, pleading, and pain. He looked worse than he did when she left, and she didn't think that was possible.

It'd been four weeks since Simon had his talk with Hogan. She got the name of the grief counselor from CJ that very day, and Simon agreed to go. The therapist's name was Dr. Robinswood, and though he'd only seen her six times so far, he had to admit he probably needed her expertise after all. She was warm and non-judgmental. She made suggestions – not recommendations, just suggestions. He found those easier to swallow. Most importantly, he was able to vent his anger and grief in a safe environment that placed no demands on him, other than that he be honest with himself and with her.

One of Dr. Robinswood's suggestions was to get Simon and CJ together in her office for a joint session. At first, Simon balked. He'd regained enough of his equilibrium to realize he'd said some fairly inexcusable things to CJ. He was too embarrassed to face her. During their few phone conversations CJ was guarded. She let him take the lead and didn't bring up any subjects on her own. For his part, Simon was still too lost and raw to dare a plunge into the subject of their relationship. Their mutual reticence resulted in fairly superficial conversations that did nothing to bring them closer to healing. Once Simon grasped that fact, he reluctantly agreed to ask CJ to join him in a session. She showed no reluctance in accepting. In fact, the relief in her voice when she accepted nearly overwhelmed him.

He was already in the waiting room when she walked in, and for the first time since Nikki died, Simon wanted to live again. He called CJ's name and she walked to him, reaching out to touch his face with her hand.

"Hey there."

He gripped her hand. "You look tired."

"Those who live in glass houses…" she tried to smile.

"Yeah."

"I miss you, Simon." She really didn't mean to say it. The words were out before she had a chance to think this through and she panicked. She couldn't take another rebuff.

He wanted to ask her, no, beg her, to come home. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was, for striking out at the one closest to him when his pain seemed so intolerable he wanted to die. He wanted to promise her he'd spend the rest of his life making up for the cruelty of the past two months. But all he managed was a brief nod, and a softly whispered, "How've you been?"

Ask me to come home, she wanted to say. Instead, she kept it light. "Oh, you know…I work, I eat, I sleep…I try to keep Josh away from reporters."

He smiled. "I haven't seen any uproar in the paper lately, so I guess you've been successful at that." And if nothing else, his ability to play along with her was proof enough that he was on the road to recovery.

***********************

May 2005

"You got everything?"

"Toby, for the millionth time, can you resist the urge to parent everything in sight? Yes, I have everything."

"Bet I'll be bringing a cartload of your stuff to the office on Monday."

CJ zipped up her suitcase and straightened up. "Then…you'll be unbearably smug as usual and I'll have to put up with it, as usual. You understand I'm going home to my husband, right? And that we're going away for a long weekend? Someplace with no phones or TVs. It'll be just me and Simon. And unless I see a mushroom cloud in the distance, for once I'm not going to worry about the state of the country, or the rest of the world."

Toby's face softened. "Good for you."

She paused, having expected more verbal sparring from her old friend. His quick surrender penetrated her euphoria. She sat on the edge of the bed in what had been her room for nearly three months and looked up at him, her blue eyes dark with anxiety and uncertainty. "Toby, I'm scared."

He sat down beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "So's Simon, I bet."

She smiled weakly and nodded. "Yeah, probably."

"You both worked hard together to get to today. Don't rush it, CJ. It'll come back, whatever 'it' may be." He frowned, the vagueness of the sentence offending the writer in him. He decided to let it go this time. "You know you both love each other. The rest will…" He sighed, not wanting to utter clichés.

"Fall into place?" CJ smirked as Toby cringed.

"Something like that."

 She kissed his cheek and hugged him tightly. "Thank you for being the best friend a girl can have, Tobus."

He pushed her away and coughed. "Get out of here. You sure you've got everything?"

She stepped on one of the twins' toys; they always ended up in her room somehow. She picked it up and threw it at Toby. "I'll see you on Monday, mom."

"CJ," he called after her and she turned.

"Yeah?"

"You have to build a relationship with an empty space where there once was a child. Just because it takes time doesn't mean it won't happen. Remember how far you've come already, OK?"

She nodded. He smiled softly. "Keep your chin up. He's worth the fight."

*******************

In their hotel room that night, Simon paced restlessly as CJ pretended to read. He sat down beside her on the bed and touched her hand briefly. She looked up.

"I've been numb for so long…" he stopped, unsure how to proceed. CJ put the book aside and sat closer to him, running her fingers through his hair. He'd almost forgotten how much he loved that feeling. He looked at her with tears in his eyes. "Help me feel life again, Ceej. I need…" He couldn't continue.

He didn't have to.

Her fingers teased him in a way he'd remembered from a lifetime ago. She pulled him close and felt him shake in her arms. She whispered soft, comforting, loving words. He let her work her magic, and as their bodies merged, their souls reconnected. When they reached the edge and tumbled over, the walls around his heart finally crumbled. She held him as he cried. They cried together, grieving and rejoicing in life at the same time.