His shoulders slumped in frustration as he walked down yet another empty stretch of the park's path. He'd been walking now for what seemed like hours even if he knew it was probably only a few minutes in reality. The anger and bitterness inside him had quickly taken a back seat to the dread and worry that now filled his mind. It was the same sense of dread that had overwhelmed him when he'd rushed into the hospital nearly a week ago.

It had terrified him to think that he might never get a chance to see her or talk to her again, that the words he'd said to her in anger might be the last things he'd ever say. And yet even still, even after being given another chance to make it right, he'd allowed his petty ego to take over. He'd been cruel and harsh with her, never once considering how his words might really be affecting her, or even worse knowing full well how they were and simply not caring.

But that was the rub, wasn't it? He did care. He would always care … no matter how angry he was, no matter what she did, no matter what he said. He would always care about her, about her life, about where she was and what she did and if she was okay. That's why he was here now, looking for her, desperately hoping and praying that she was okay … as if anyone up there was even listening to his words anymore.

And then just like that, he saw her. His entire body seemed to relax as he stood there for a moment, just letting the image burn into his brain. She sat on the bench in the middle of the park, the same bench on which they'd sat together many times in the past. Part of him just wanted to stand there and watch her, knowing all too well that the second she saw him, she'd bolt. He couldn't blame her. He wouldn't want to hear what he had to say either. Still, he had to make sure she got home okay. The worried whispers in his head wouldn't stop until he did. He slowly stepped over to the bench, his hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he braced for her reaction.

She looked up, the dread an almost immediate response now.

It was hard to see it in her eyes. Those eyes used to hold such affection for him and now they held nothing even remotely akin to it. Now she seemed to wish he'd just vanish from her life … maybe even from the world.

"Please Billy." Her voice was almost desperate as she glanced up at him. "Not today. Can you just leave me alone?"

"It's a public park isn't it? I was just taking a walk, enjoying the break from the bitter cold. You know how these Wisconsin winters can be." He shifted his weight from foot to foot. The awkward small talk felt especially weird with her. They had never had any use for it. There had never been any need. His eyes fell on the empty spot next to her. He wondered if she'd leave if he tried to take a seat.

She followed his gaze, her mouth instantly drying at the thought of having him so close to her. "I'm asking you again," she said quietly. "You owe me this. After what you did … you can at least do this one thing for me, can't you?"

He sighed before moving quickly and sitting down beside her. "I'm not going anywhere. Jack told me you and Nick were having lunch and I …"

"You can't possibly have something to say about that?" Her voice trembled a bit as she looked at him in utter disbelief. "You have nothing to say about what I do or who I do it with now."

"That's not what I meant. I was looking for you because I wanted to give you something." He reached into his jacket pocket, noting the look of almost trepidation on her face. "Here," he said as he handed her the check. "I wanted to give this back to you."

Her hand was shaky as she took the paper from him. He watched as she blinked a few times before looking back up at him. "What is this?"

"I'd think that would be obvious," he said.

"I'm not into the riddles today, Billy. Can you just tell me what this is about?" She placed the paper in her lap, letting her hand rest on top of it. The pain in her head hadn't subsided at all and as much as Billy could be a headache, she knew he wasn't the cause of this one.

"I didn't figure I need to owe you anything and I'm sure I'm not worth this kind of investment to you anymore anyway."

"Investment?"

He watched her face, her mind clearly spinning as she tried to understand his words. "Oh. The money for the gambling debts. You uh …" She adjusted her body on the bench again, the pain in her head now radiating through her shoulders and neck. "How did you come up with … you didn't have …" She stopped there, hoping he'd understand and answer the question.

"I liquidated some assets," he said slowly. She wasn't acting like herself. Something wasn't right. "Phyllis." He reached out, his hand touching her arm for only a moment before he pulled away. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." She shifted away from him instantly, her body hugging the far edge of the bench. "I'll be even better when you leave me alone."

"I don't think that's such a good idea. Why don't you just let me take you home?"

"Because I don't want to be anywhere near you. I don't want any help from you. I don't want to owe you either. Surely you can understand that."

His jaw clenched. She had a history of this, of using his own words against him. She was smart and he normally found her acerbic wit endearing but in these moments when she used it against him, it was maddening. "I get it, but what are you planning to do? Just sit out here by yourself until you get up the nerve to ask somebody for a ride?"

"I'll call a car when I'm ready to go," she snapped. "I'm just not ready to go yet."

"Because you want to spend some more time with me?" He leaned back and settled into, crossing his arms and letting a small smile cover his face. "Alright. I've got some time."

"I came here to get some time alone, to think, to decompress, to be calm and quiet, and …"

"It's kind of hard to do that in a public area." He shook his head and gestured to the people as they walked by. "You'll probably be better off in a spa or one of those weekend retreat things … what are they like zen yoga gardens or something? I've seen the brochures in the break rooms at Jabot."

"Would you please just shut up?" Her head continued to pound as he muttered on incessantly.

"If I'm bothering you, you could always just go home." If she wouldn't let him take her there, at least he could push her to call a car and go there herself. One way or the other, he had to know she would get home safe. There wasn't any other option for his peace of mind.

"You'd like that wouldn't you? You'd like it if you could control every single aspect of my life. If you could make me so miserable that you could make me stay or go … No matter how angry I am at you Billy Abbott, I will not give you the satisfaction of controlling me to that degree. You will not have that much power over my life. I …" She couldn't stand it. Her words were powerful, but her resolve wasn't. The smug smile that seemed to creep up on her face was more than she could stand and she summoned all her power as she pushed her body to her feet. "You know what? Scratch that. You win."

It was one step. One giant step for her. One step away from him. A statement, proof that she wouldn't let him make her this miserable anymore. It was supposed to be the first of many steps that started the distance between them, but instead it was the step that she wasn't ready for, the one that caused her legs to buckle beneath her. The ground spun as she grabbed for the bench that was now just out of reach and instead of creating the distance she'd been trying so hard to maintain, she now found herself right back in his arms.