Woody's POV:
I heard Garrett tell Nigel to go with Jordan to where ever it was that she was running to, but it didn't look like running this time. She was smiling. I was standing right there; I wondered why Garrett didn't ask me. I held my breath as Jordan and Nigel walked right by me; I don't think they even noticed that I was there. If they did, neither made an attempt to acknowledge me. I watched them leave.
"Don't follow her," I heard Garrett say as he walked up behind me. I knew I couldn't follow her; she didn't say more than ten words over the last two weeks. The majority of our talking was this last week; Devan had gone to interview at different morgues. Devan needed to line up a 'back up job' just in case Garrett didn't hire her. I heard Bug telling Lily that Devan wasn't even going to get an interview here. No one wanted her here. Garrett had decided to hire Sydney. I wasn't sure if I liked him anymore than I liked Devan.
"I won't follow her," I replied as I watched Nigel hold open the elevator door for Jordan. They both looked so excited to be leaving.
"Woody, I don't know what the hell is wrong with you, but don't bring Jordan into it," Garrett lectured. I had changed; I hadn't noticed so much until today during the autopsy. I never bet on cases; I never argued with the medical examiners. I knew that my understanding of their science was so rudimentary. I had no right to question the better judgment of Sydney.
"There's nothing wrong with me," I quickly lied.
"Then why do you let Devan torture Jordan? Jordan has to hear ever single detail of your dates and weekends. Nigel, Bug and I can handle this because Devan doesn't give a shit about us. But it hurts Jordan," Garrett replied. His voice was raised. I wished that he would just yell at me; I wished that he wouldn't lecture me.
"I don't mean to hurt her," I whispered.
"Woody, you stood her up for the awards ceremony. Did you decide to take Devan instead?" Garrett said. He voice was becoming raspier. I knew he was pissed at me.
"No, I had family business; I thought I told Jordan," I replied. I was drunk; I was drunk at home staring at a picture of Annie kissing Brent in her long white dress. It was very possible that I never called her; it didn't matter anymore. I loved Annie; I loved her since I was five years old. It wasn't something that I could just turn off; it was so painful that I ran from it. Putting hundreds of miles between us didn't turn it off.
"Didn't you wonder why she's been avoiding you? Didn't you wonder why Jordan is refusing your cases?" Garrett asked. I didn't know what I felt for Jordan. In California, there was something there when I kissed her. It was something I wanted to pursue, but somehow life always managed to get in the way.
"I don't want to hurt her," I replied. I never did want to hurt Jordan. I had worked so hard to be understanding of her faults and be understanding of all the anger inside of her. She made herself vulnerable; I had hurt her. I had told her that she was victimized for no reason; the robber was just a robber. I hadn't stayed to talk to her; I hadn't offered to put a new lock on her door. I heard the Nigel did; I asked him about the cut on his hand . . . that's the only way that I found out. Jordan.
I hadn't realized that I let all we worked to build unravel. Then, I bring Devan into it. It wasn't even all of Devan; it was just those damn grey-blue eyes. I wondered how to make this better; I wondered how I could make Annie go away. I nearly laughed when I remember that I once told Jordan that I could be complicated too. I was becoming more complicated that I ever wanted to be.
"Just stay away from her. Jordan's under enough stress; don't you dare do anything else to hurt her," Garrett threatened. I could hear him walk away; I was staring at the elevator. What had I done?