"Lana."

"Lex, why don't you put the knife down, and we can just talk, okay?"

Lex let the knife fall to the floor. Whether he dropped it or he threw it or it flew away, he didn't know.

"Lex, you put the note in my room?" It was a statement, a fact.

"Yes. I didn't want to leave with you….unanswered questions."

Lana took a few cautious steps towards him. "Actually, it's only given me more questions."

"Lana, you are so much better off without me. It's better if you just accept the answers."

Lana's eyes ignited. "No, Lex. I'm not better off without you."

"Yes, you are. Look at all the trouble I've caused. Clark and you broke up because of me."

"Lex, I was the one who broke it off. You had nothing to do with it."

Lex frowned, as if he wanted to have something to do with it.

Lana took a few more steps towards him, and before he knew it, he was holding her in his arms. She clung to him tightly and whispered, "Well, maybe you did."

"Lex, you don't have to threaten suicide to get my attention. You could have just asked me out to dinner."

Now that the danger of him ending his life had passed, Lana was ready to get angry. Lex didn't blame her. He would almost enjoy her anger, in his own twisted way. He wanted to suffer. For her. For her.

"You just got out of another relationship. I didn't want to stress you out." Lex thought the words were stupid even before they left his mouth.

Lana rose from the couch she and Lex had been tensely perching on. Lex recognized the look in her eyes: painful, sad anger that would almost definitely cause her to throw things.

"So you leave a note telling me you've killed yourself? You let me think you're dead and I could have saved you? And you don't think I got stressed out? I ran outside in forty degree weather in only a t-shirt and drove on icy roads with broken headlights to get here! And let me remind you that I was dealing with the possibility that I might find your body on the floor when I burst in? I think that counts as 'stressing me out'!"

There went the scotch glass.

"Lana, I'm sorry." And there's nothing more to say. She'll either forgive him or she won't.

"I need time, and so do you. We both have to think about what we can and can't do." She prepares to storm out, but just before she does, she turns to Lex.

"I love you," she says slowly, softly. And then she's gone, and Lex just wants to pick up the kitchen knife all over again. But he won't, if only for her.