"Second Chances - Part 4"

August 7, 2005 (Day 107)
Greg's Apartment
1:05 p.m.

Sitting on a bar stool at the kitchen counter, Greg grimaced as Tawny dabbed antiseptic on the cut over his eyebrow. "That stuff stings."

"I really think this should have been stitched because it's pretty deep," She scolded him as she smoothed a heavy Band-Aid over the open wound. "Do you think Hodges is current on his rabies shot?"

"This cut isn't from him." Greg gingerly felt the bandage with his fingertips. "I slammed my own face into the leg of a chair when I was trying to jump to my feet."

"Nice going." Running her fingers through his hair, she checked for additional bumps and bruises. "Good thing you get to keep your job at the Crime Lab because I don't think you'd be much of a professional boxer."

"Hey now." Her gentle touch sent a delightful shiver through his damaged body. "I haven't had a lot of experience at bar room brawls."

"Because you haven't hung around a girl with a lackluster reputation before now." Instantly she heard Carrie Blake's voice in her head shouting…Hey, Low-Self-Esteem Girl! Stop the self-loathing defeatist behavior.

"No…" Reaching up, he caressed her cheek. "Because I never felt so strongly about something before now. You're having my baby. I'll do anything to protect you. That's why I promise not to lose it like that again. If I'm not employable I won't be able to support you and the baby."

His soft touch and his tender words fueled her romantic feelings for him. "Does your jaw hurt?" She lovingly asked as she lightly traced the outline of the bruise. "It looks painful."

"Nah." He flashed a reassuring smile. "After suffering through third-degree burns in the lab explosion pain is a relative concept." He had told her about the incident the first night they were together, when she asked about the scars on his back. "This is nothing."

"Very true." Matching his smile's intensity, she said, "You'll have to remind me of that when I'm in labor."

"Here's what I learned from the burn experience…get as much pain-numbing medication as quickly as possible. When the time comes, I'll suggest you do the same." Lowering his hand, he delicately placed it on Tawny's flat stomach. "I know you won't look different for a while but, do you feel anything yet?"

"I get these weird sensations…kind of like things are stretching inside me."

"Really?" The sparkle in her eyes fed his growing emotions.

Giggling, she added, "And on Friday, my boobs started to hurt like hell. Thank god I'm not stripping anymore because if I had to toss the girls around I think I'd pass out!" Excitement flowed in her voice as she continued. "I'm not craving anything yet and I don't feel sick, but it's too early for that stuff. Last night when I needed a math break, I searched AOL for pregnancy information. I need to start eating healthier and taking vitamins. Oh, and I need to see a doctor in the next couple of weeks. Would you go with me to the appointment?"

"I wouldn't miss it." Standing up, he slipped his hands around her waist. "I have no idea why, but today out of nowhere, my paternal instinct kicked in. I want to be a part of everything."

Melting from the dedication brimming in his eyes, she sighed, "And I want you Greg…I mean…I want you to be there for everything." When her words stopped, she left her lips parted hoping he would inch closer and lower his mouth to hers.

"Tawny, I…" Suddenly he was at the mercy of a gravitational pull toward her shiny pink lips. "…I really think we should…"

Surprisingly gentle in nature, the kiss set off a tingle in the pit of her stomach that spread throughout her receptive body. It wasn't the hungry kiss of a booty call…it wasn't the playful smooch of a casual lover…and it wasn't the obligatory kiss from someone walking out the door saying I'll call you. This kiss had meaning. This kiss spoke volumes and the first words it uttered to her were, once upon a time…

The Grissoms'
1:15 p.m.

Now that the kitchen had been cleaned and the stained rug taken to the garage, Sara poured another glass of ice water for Ron hoping he would bestow a few more precious tidbits about Gil. The bug stories he told about her husband almost made his unnerving and unwelcome presence worthwhile. "Here you are." She placed the full glass on the coffee table.

"Thank you, Dear."

"Were you there for his first day of school?" She asked while she watched him take a seat on the couch and sip his water.

"Not Kindergarten, but I was there for his first day of preschool." Tired from helping Sara cleanup the kitchen, Ron relaxed on the couch. "He was the only preschooler who showed up clutching a tattered copy of Shakespeare's sonnets instead of a stuffed animal. Jillian always read to him from it and he wouldn't leave it at home that day. He insisted on bringing a book to school in case they didn't have any. So the first day of preschool, he showed up quoting the Bard, finger spelling in sign-language, reciting his times-tables and picking up bugs off the playground to keep in his pockets. Needless to say the other kids found him a little quirky."

The visual was too much. "That's the man I know and love!" Sara gleefully exclaimed. "I really hope we have a boy just like him." And as she stood in the center of the room laughing and thinking of her future child, she heard the front door open.

"Oh no." Her breath catching in her throat, she whimpered, "He's home. He's not supposed to be home."

"Honey?" Grissom stepped into the hallway swinging the Walgreen's bag full of chocolate. "I heard you laughing, what silly movie are you watching this time? Bridget Jones Two again? I've got some candy you can eat while enjoying it."

She knew the shock of seeing his father here would obliterate her husband. "Don't say anything," She pleaded in a whisper to Ron. "While I keep him in the bedroom, you get your ass out of here."

Cooperating, he acknowledged her with a quick nod.

Racing down the main hall, Sara greeted Gil with open arms. "What are you doing home? You said you wouldn't be home until five."

After devouring her with a kiss, he sighed pleasurably. "I missed my wife. See…" He handed over the bag. "…I even brought you candy."

Nestling against him, she replied, "I missed you too." His happiness only accelerated her panic and she was determined to do anything to prevent a scene.

Holding her Grissom said, "I was hoping for a few minutes of TLC to calm my nerves. After this fiasco with Greg and Hodges, I'm a little worked up." Then he thought back to the conversation with Brass and Lady Heather. "Really, Honey…I'm having the strangest day. I'll tell you about it, but I'm thirsty, so first let me grab a cold drink."

"Come crawl under the covers with me." With a vice grip on his arm she started leading him toward the bedroom instead of the kitchen. "I'll make you forget all your stress."

Normally he would be thrilled by the idea, but since he was very behind on administrative paperwork and Brass was returning tomorrow, he couldn't spare the time. Halting her, he apologetically said, "Honey…I'd love to, but there's not enough time. I have to get back to…" His words were cut off when she pressed him against the wall and covered his mouth with a persuasive kiss.

"You don't have to worry about me, Baby." Tugging at his belt, she purred in his ear, "It's just about you today. Come on…I'll take care of you and then you can return to work relaxed and be a lot more productive." Grabbing his arm, she yanked him down the hall.

"Sara!" Gaping at her, he playfully exclaimed, "Aren't you quite the vixen today? What have the neighbors been feeding you? Aphrodisiac brownies?"

"Blanche did say there was a secret ingredient."

Laughing, he stopped as they turned down the bedroom hallway. "You don't have to do …" Then he realized how insane he would be to pass up her generous offer. "Okay, you twisted my arm…literally! But I need a bottle of water first. I've been out driving all over the place and it's 112 outside." Breaking into a delicious laugh, he told her, "I'm so thirsty I won't be able to moan."

"I'll get it!" She resumed dragging him towards the bedroom. "Put on some sultry music while you wait for me to return."

"Sorry, you have me wound up now and I'm not letting you out of my sight." Mimicking her salaciousness, he chomped on her neck. "I'll just take a seat in my favorite chair and wait for you to service me…I mean, bring me my water."

At her wits end she blurted, "I prefer the bedroom!"

"What is with you? It's not like we haven't fooled around in the living room," He chuckled. "I distinctly remember several times on…"

"Why are you being so difficult about this?" She sensed her façade was cracking and she struggled to hold it together.

"Me? You're the one hell bent on getting me into the bedroom. It's like you don't want me to see something in the kitchen." When he saw her react nervously to what he thought was a joke, his smile began to fade. "Sara?"

"What?" On the verge of insanity, she jittered a smile. "I just prefer the intimacy of the bedroom." She knew he wasn't buying it because it was obvious to her that he saw her body shaking and the terror in her eyes. After all, he made his living reading people and figuring out what they were hiding.

"If you prefer the bedroom, then you go to there and I'll meet you." Swallowing hard, he fought his mind's determination to jump to horrible conclusions. "You're scaring me Sara. I heard you laughing when I came in. Why were you laughing? What are you hiding? I don't smell alcohol on your breath so that's not what you're hiding in the kitchen. And I know it's not something good because you look like you're about to vomit." His paranoia intensified as he watched her avert her eyes. "My god, Sara …you can't look at me? Look at me!"

Cupping his face with her trembling hands, she groveled, "I love you so much…I never meant for you to get hurt…I…."

"Hurt? What did you do?" With raw desperation in his voice, he asked, "Are you saying…do you have someone here with you?" Sickened, he backed away. "No…I can't believe you would…this can't be happening."

The sheer terror on his face incited her to yell. "No!" Horrified that she made him think the worst, she lunged for his hand as he pushed past her. "I'm not cheating on you! I could never…" But before she could reveal the secret, he broke free and made his own mind-blowing discovery.

Rushing to his side, she heard the rapid intake of his breath. "I wanted to prepare you. I didn't want him to surprise you like this."

Rendered numb from the shock, Grissom stood with his mouth open staring at the ghost. In his wildest nightmares, he never saw this scenario…his wife colluding with his absentee father in his own house.

"Sara's right, Gil." Ron took a step closer. "I approached her this morning to ask her opinion on if or how I should go about this. I didn't want to blindside you."

"Honey?" Sara gently placed her hand on his shoulder. "I know…"

"No..." Backing away from his wife, Grissom stammered, "This…no…this isn't..." In an instant his world collapsed and the ability to trust his wife was part of the rubble.

The anguish on his son's face was much worse than Sara predicted and Ron sought to control the situation. "I'm sorry it's happening this way, Gil."

Hearing his father's voice speak words that were all too familiar from childhood…I'm sorry…snapped Grissom out of his stupor. In a whisper, he said, "You're sorry?" And when his anger boiled to the surface, his voice found its power. "You're sorry? You're sorry! You've never been sorry for anything in your whole god damn life! I can't believe you have the audacity to show up at my house after forty years! How dare you!"

Ron stood there lifeless, taking exactly what he thought he deserved.

"Honey, please…" Sara cautiously approached. "If you could…"

Grissom side-stepped his wife to get closer to the repugnant man taking up space in the living room. Through clenched teeth, he snarled, "I made it perfectly clear on my 18th birthday that you were dead to me. Dead! You are nothing but an apparition of a pathetic man I once mistakenly called my father! Here's a news flash…I don't believe in ghosts. I stopped believing in my father when I was nine!"

Ron held up his hands. "You have every right to hate me and…"

"Did you think I needed permission to hate you? Is that why you're here? To tell me it's okay to hate you? Fear not, I was doing an outstanding job before today." Closing the gap between them, Grissom unleashed another level of rage. "I could hate you for a different reason every damn day for the rest of my life and not run out! Do you want some examples? Let's not even bother with the obvious ones like you lying to my face and never bothering to call or see me. Or you treating me like a monthly expense!" Glancing over at Sara, he sarcastically snapped, "Hey, Honey, you love finding out stuff about my past…now's your chance to hear about some real dirty laundry, listen up!"

"Please calm down," Sara pleaded. She had never seen him in a prolonged state of agitation and it was tearing her apart.

"Back off, Sara," He sharply warned.

"You're scaring me!" His unrelenting anger triggered the memory of her father's tirades and her gut twisted into a tight knot as she tried to block the scenes flashing in her head.

Ignoring his wife's protestations, Grissom paced the room like a caged lion. "Here's a favorite…what kind of man flaunts the fact that he screwed other women while he was married? What kind of man flaunts it to his ex-wife years after the fact and in front of his seven year old son! I was standing right there when you were arguing! Did you think I wouldn't get it? Did you forget I was a genius? Not that it took one to figure it out! Biologically I knew what it meant and the psychological part was easy to decipher when I watched my mother bawling her eyes out for hours after you left! You left a seven year old boy to deal with his heartbroken mother! Do you have any idea how wrong that is? What kind of damage that did to me?"

Flustered by the onslaught and unsure how to diffuse the situation, Ron made a weak attempt. "Gil…you don't know the whole story. You have a child's perspective. Your mother and I…it's complicated…we…"

Lunging for his father, he grabbed him by the collar. "Don't you dare say anything bad about her!" He waited, hoping the bastard would ignore his advice.

Remembering Sara had described her husband as a stable man, and having recently learned the girl's painful family history, Ron kept his focus on her deteriorating mental state. "Gil…I deserve all of this and I'm more than happy to take it, but your wife is getting very upset. Look at her, will you? Please stop."

"You are worried about my wife?" Outraged at the idea, he barked, "You didn't give a shit about your own wife but you care about mine? Exactly how much did the two of you bond behind my back? How long has this been going on between you and Sara? Were the two of you planning a birthday surprise? Because I know how much you like showing up right before my birthday to ruin my life."

"Please calm down, Son."

Grissom raged, "Don't ever call me that! You gave up the right to call me that!"

"Stop! I can't handle this!" Sara rushed over and begged," Please let go of him. Let go and I'll kick his ass to the curb. Okay? We'll talk…just you and me." Memories of childhood pleas echoed in her head…let go of her …I think you're hurting her…don't do that anymore. "Please!"

"No way!" Grissom tightened his grip as rage yielded to fury. "He's going to hear what I have to say about my mother. I don't care what happened between my mother and you The bottom line is…my mother stayed. Get it…you left…she stayed. She cared for me…you avoided me. Everything I am today is because of her, and everything I'm not is because of you!" In an icy voice, he warned, "If you say an unkind word about her in my presence, I won't guarantee your safety. So think long and hard about what you're going to say because I know a dozen ways to dispose of a body and never get caught."

In the corner of the room, Sara shivered from her husband's chilling words…words she didn't know he could utter…in a rage she didn't know he could manifest. Once again she was gripped by traumatic recollections…if you touch me again I'll kill you…I mean it this time!

Seeing Sara inching toward a nervous breakdown, Ron appeased his son. "Gil, I never deserved a woman as wonderful as your mother. That's what I came to tell you…I'm sorry for hurting her. I was a despicable bastard." When he felt his son's grip loosen, he inhaled sharply. "Jillian did a fantastic job raising you. I don't take credit for anything."

"Good." Backing off, he removed his hands from the man's shirt. "Now wait here while I write you a check."

"A check?" Ron asked. "I don't need your money."

"Correction. I don't need your money. I'm returning all the child support plus interest over forty years because I want to be able to say you gave me nothing." Grissom hurried toward his office. "Unfortunately, I'll still have to live with the knowledge that you played two roles in my life…sperm donor and loan officer."

Ron glanced over at Sara, who was hiding in the corner of the room holding her head in her hands. "I'm so sorry."

Plagued by excruciating flashbacks, she remained frozen and didn't respond.

Doing as he was asked, Ron stayed put in the living room. Although he was confident closure was being achieved, he feared it came at a price which was too high for Sara.

"Here!" Grissom grabbed his father's hand and slapped a check in it. "Fifty grand should cover it. And if you're thinking I have any of mom's money from the house you purchased, you're mistaken. After she died I donated the proceeds of her estate to her favorite art museum in her name."

"I don't need this money, Gil. You're starting a family, you keep it."

Disgusted, he sighed, "Are you even going to fail me when it comes to this?"

Folding the check in half, Ron stuck it in his shirt pocket. "I'll make sure it goes to a good cause."

"Now that we've taken care of business…" Grissom pointed to the hall. "It's time for you to crawl back under the rock from whence you came."

"I sincerely wish you the best, Gil." Ron proclaimed as he walked towards the hall.

"Feel free to come back and see me in another forty years!" He energetically snarked while following him to edge of the room to ensure he wouldn't veer off course. "Close that door on your way out, thanks."

When the front door snapped shut, Sara was jolted out of her trancelike state. Still tucked away in the corner of the room, she slowly she lifted her eyes. Instinctively she scanned the area for damage...damage to the house…damage to her mother.

Grissom, unnerved by the altercation, sank into his favorite chair and lowered his throbbing head into his shaking hands.

Upon seeing Gil, Sara returned to the present and pushed past her fears and insecurities to tend to her distraught husband. "Honey…are you okay?" She asked as she knelt before him, placing her hands on his knees. "What can I do to help?" Her worst nightmare for him had come true and all she wanted to do was erase his pain. "Honey?"

Like a curtain parting, his hands moved from their position over his pain-filled eyes. "You've already done more than enough," He rasped. "I can't believe you did this to me."

His hostile demeanor startled her. "I…I just wanted…"

"You just wanted what!" He barked. "You just wanted to give the bastard a chance to rip out my heart again? You just wanted to destroy my peace of mind? You just wanted to see what it would be like to betray me? You just wanted to ruin the trust between us? Which is it, Sara? Or is it all of the above!"

"Please don't do this," She pleaded as she took his hand in hers. "If you listen to…"

Yanking his hand away, he screamed, "For forty years I locked that man out of my life! Why would you let him in? Why! If you didn't know what he did to me I could understand. But you knew! I confided in you! You are the only person I've ever told. I trusted you and you betrayed me! You lied to me!"

Vehemently shaking her head, she implored, "No…no, I didn't. I…"

"Now you're lying to my face!" He snarled. "He was here when I called you on the phone! I asked you what was wrong and you said you were worried about Greg. You lied then and you're lying now!"

Confused, she stammered, "I wasn't…I didn't want to…yes, I lied but only because…"

"Stop it! Stop making excuses!" Catapulted to a new level of disgust, he leapt out of the chair. "I can't believe you!" Looming over her, he shook his head. "You lied again when I came home…you pretended you wanted to screw me to hide the fact that you were screwing me over in the other room! He was right here listening to us the whole time and you knew that! You were making a fool out of me in front of him!"

Sitting against the chair, she brought her knees to her chest. "No…I was trying to protect you."

Leaning over, he drilled his pointed finger into the arm of the chair. "You stopped protecting me the second you let that arrogant son of a bitch into this house! As my wife…as the only living person who knows what that man did to me and my mother…you should have slammed the door in his face! Unless you're going to tell me he forced his way in. Did he?"

"No," She whispered.

"I didn't think so because it sounded like you were having a grand 'ol time in here before I interrupted the party."

Exasperated, she replied, "We weren't partying…I wasn't entertaining him."

"Oh, you weren't? Are you sure you're not lying?" Marching over to the coffee table, he picked up the tray of baked goods. "Let's examine the evidence, shall we? Food!"

When the tray hit the wall Sara gasped and jumped to her feet. "I can't stand seeing you like this! Stop it!"

He didn't hear her as he slipped further into an unbalanced fury. "Hey look what I found…two drinking glasses." Feigning an innocent tone, he quizzed, "Were you doubling up, Honey, or did you entertain Ron with a beverage?" He picked up the first glass and inspected it. "Lip gloss…and it matches yours." Gently he returned the glass to the coffee table and retrieved the other one. "Hmm…no lip gloss on this one." Glaring at his wife, he asked, "Do I have to print it or are you finally going to behonest with me?"

Standing firm, she answered, "He's an old man and it's 112 outside. Yes, I gave him a glass of water."

"Aww." Tightening his grip on the glass, he crossed the room until he stood in front of his wife. "You felt sorry for him," He whispered. "You felt sorry for the man who walked out on me when I was kid. A man who betrayed his wife and his wedding vows…wow. I'm in awe of your compassion." Flippantly he mused, "Too bad your father's dead or I could reciprocate…maybe take him out for a couple of beers…assure him that although he beat your mother regularly I don't mind hanging out with him. Afterwards, I could invite him over to watch a ballgame and if it was a hot afternoon, I could give him a nice cold glass of water. How would you like that, Sara? Would that be okay? Would you feel protected if I did that?"

Swallowing hard, she squeaked, "It's not the same."

"Why? Because it's your father and not mine?"

"Because he physically abused my mother."

"Now that's really something coming from you. Do you really believe what you're saying?" Gritting his teeth he lashed out. "Physical abuse…mental abuse…it's all abusive! Two men…different weapons…same goal!" Holding up the glass, he yelled, "And I don't think either one of those bastards is worthy of my spit no less a god damn glass of my water in my home!"

Sara watched in horror as the glass smashed against the wall…the sound another echo from her childhood and the image of the shards a familiar sight.

"You still aren't getting it, Sara!" His voice flamed with contempt. "Look at me!"

When she did, she was impaled by his reproachful stare. "I…" Backing away, she covered her mouth with her hands.

"What is it going to take to make you get it!" Her traitorous actions were gnawing at him and second by second he felt the toll of their destruction. Standing in the middle of the room, his eyes flooded with pain as his head pulsated. "How can I make you understand what you've done to me?"

With her back to the wall, she felt the first sting of tears and the voice of her mother begging her father to listen popped into her head…let me explain…if you would just let me explain you would know I'm not lying to you…I wasn't betraying you…I was just talking to the guy!

With his hand over his heart he informed her in a tormented voice, "If I had come home and found you in bed riding Hank Peddigrew…it wouldn't have hurt half as much as this." Crossing the room, he stood in front of her, scalding her with his eyes while he burned from her betrayal. "Now do you understand?"

Comprehending the depth of the betrayal for the first time, she shuddered. It had taken so much less to incite her father. Trembling she wondered, would her own husband cross the line now that he believed she had intentionally inflicted such incredible pain? "Stay away from me," She pleaded in a shaky voice as her husband's face blurred into her father's. "Stay away from me."

Her words were like salt to his open wounds. "What?" Suddenly he saw a way to escape the prolonged agony and jumped at the chance. Flippantly he said, "Could you repeat that, Sweetie? What do you want me to do? Because I'll do whatever you ask." Take the bait Sara…do it and make this easy for both of us. Say it, Sara because I can't take another minute.

"I said, stay away from me!" Frantic from seeing him so out of control, she blasted, "Stay the hell away from me!"

Backing off, he smiled. "No problem because the last place I want to be is anywhere near you." Turning his back on her, he walked out of the room, down the hall and out the front door.

Anguish enveloping her, Sara slid down the wall. "I'm alone again," She announced in a barren voice to the empty room. "I betrayed him…what I did tore him apart. Oh my god…he's gone and he may not come back." With the back of her hand, she wiped away her tears. "But after seeing him like that…" Her tears strengthened to sobs. "…he wouldn't listen to me…he didn't even give me a chance…I won't make the same mistake as my mother…I'm not sticking around to see how much worse it gets."

Mandalay Bay Hotel
2:15 p.m.

Sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, Ron Grissom closed his eyes and heard the echo of his son's hate-fueled words… what kind of man flaunts the fact that he screwed other women while he was married?

"A desperate coward," He answered as he fell back against the bedding and into the memory.

As he did every time he arrived home from a business trip, Ron placed his suitcase on his wife's bed as she requested. Although she had turned away from him intimately and emotionally, she had insisted on taking care of his lesser needs…like washing his dirty laundry.

After five years, their marriage was no more than a business arrangement in his eyes. He brought home a substantial paycheck and in return she made sure he had home cooked meals, clean clothes and fresh linens on his bed in the guest room.

Predictably, she opened his suitcase and in silence began sorting the items in preparation for washing. And just as he did every time she completed the ritual, he stood watching in the corner of the room.

It won't be long now, he thought as she lifted the top layer of shirts. I've given it five years and I'm done. I've been done for a while…you know that. You won't be my partner, but you don't believe in divorce. When I arrived in Hong Kong last week, the first thing I thought of was that I'd eventually have to come home to you…to this lie. I couldn't stand the thought of living like this for another day. I couldn't come home again and pretend this is normal. Keep sorting that laundry, Jillian. I think you'll change your mind about divorce. I did something to make it easy for you. Now you'll beg me to leave. Your pride will make you do it. I'm counting on it. Hurry, because I can't take another minute with you. Just one more layer…

When she lifted her husband's grey trousers, Jillian froze. From the pile of white undershirts beneath, a trace of red lace peeked through. Reaching down, she wrapped her fingers around the garment and in horror, extracted it from the suitcase. As the color drained from her face, she turned to her husband.

Already dead from her betrayal of their vows, Ron shrugged and spoke clearly so she could easily read his lips. "Say it, Jillian. Say it!"

"Get out," She replied while gulping for air.

"That's what I've been trying to do for the last two years," He calmly replied. "Thank you for finally seeing the light."

Throwing the offensive garment at him, she shouted, "Get out! Get out!"

"I'll have my attorney's office deliver the divorce papers in the morning," He coolly informed her before heading for the door. And when he knew she couldn't see his lips, he said, "I don't know who I hate more right now…me or you."

Grissom's Car
2:20 p.m.

Parked in the far corner of an empty lot, Grissom looked out the front window of the vehicle and into his past.

When he walked through the front door, Gil saw his mother painting in front of the bay window. Dropping his bag full of middle school books, he approached her and tapped her on the shoulder. "I'm home. I'll be in my room."

Reading her son's eyes, Jillian signed, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He knew she would see otherwise. She always did.

"Another problem at school?"

"I don't want to talk about it," He signed, hoping she would let it go.

"It's those kids again, isn't it?" Her ire surfaced. "I told you to stay away from them. They'll only keep hurting you."

"I really thought she liked me…I mean…they liked me."

Lowering her brush, she lectured, "You know you can't trust other people, Gil. Look at what your father did to us. You don't need those kids in your life. Stay away from them. I can't stand to see you this way. It's like seeing your father betray you again. Please listen to me this time. Stop setting yourself up to get hurt. You have to protect yourself out there because no one else will."

"I know. I know."

"Shakespeare said…Don't trust the person who has broken faith once. Walk away, Gil. Don't let those kids keep hurting you. Every time you give someone your trust they hurt you. People are all the same. I learned that the hard way. Please learn from my mistake because I won't be able to protect you forever. You are so special…so gifted. You don't need people to validate you. You're like me…you're fine on your own. You're safe on your own. Do you understand?"

"Yes, mom." He nodded. "I promise."

"I thought she was different," He whispered. "But you were right…just like the opera…cosi fan tutte…they're all like that…not to be trusted."