Goren was feeling guilty. Reasonably, he had absolutely no cause to feel that way, but that didn't change the fact that he did. He had not talked to Eames since Monday night, when he'd sent her home to her husband, as difficult as that had been for him to do. Worst of all, though, he had lied to her, something he could not remember ever doing before. He told her they were okay when they were anything but. He hadn't lied when he said they would be okay, but right now...no, he wasn't feeling right about much of anything.
Three days had passed and he had not said anything to her that wasn't work-related. Off duty, he refused to take her calls. This was killing him and he had no idea what to do about it. He'd shut himself off from everyone, even Logan, as he tried to find his equilibrium again. But he was floundering. He needed...well, he wasn't sure just what he needed, except that he did need her.
He leaned back on the couch, legs propped up on the coffee table, mind too busy to settle on much of anything. Earlier in the evening, he'd called John's and talked to Maggie. After telling her good night, he felt better than he had all week. The only down side to the conversation was that he couldn't tell her when he would be able to come out to see her. 'Maybe next week' was as specific as he'd been able to get.
He got up and began wandering restlessly around the room, unable to settle his body or his mind. He took a picture down from a bookshelf and looked at Maggie's happy little face. He glanced at the time. Not quite 8. Gently setting the picture back in its place, he made a phone call and left the apartment.
He wasn't sure how he felt when he turned onto John's street and saw the driveway empty. He had no idea what he'd expected and that unsettled him, too. With the realization that she was probably at home came the same unwanted images of her with Waters that he often struggled to banish from his mind. Tonight, though, a new thought popped into his mind: this was just too damn painful. His best option, it seemed, was to cut his losses and just leave, get on with living his life. Leave...where would he go? More important...what would he be leaving behind? One thing he'd leave would be Eames and her husband, a man she was bound to solely by the child she'd had with him, a child she protected by staying with him. But would removing himself from the proximity of that relationship change anything? He would spare himself some bruises by eliminating those encounters with Waters that Eames knew nothing about, but it would do nothing for the pain he felt inside. And then he wouldn't be around for her when she needed him...he sighed heavily. She still needed him, and that was something he had fully opened himself to. Stacking all that up against what else he would be leaving...a job he loved, a friend who had become more than a friend to him, and Maggie...Maggie...no, he couldn't leave Maggie. That was the clincher that banished any thought of leaving from his mind. He would simply have to deal with his life as it was because he was entirely unable to take Maggie from it.
Killing the engine, he got out of the car and headed for the house. As he mounted the steps to the porch, the door opened and Eames stood there. He froze for a moment, then he looked at the driveway, as if making certain his escape route was still open. "I, uh..." he trailed off with a deep sigh. "Maybe I should go."
"I wish you wouldn't."
"Why, Eames?"
"Because I need to talk to you."
"I-I came to see Maggie."
"I know. She's waiting for you. When you're done with her, I want to talk to you."
Now he felt trapped, and she could see that. But she was desperate to salvage her relationship with him, if she could. "Please, Bobby."
The soft, pleading tone of her voice got to him and he finally nodded, stepping past her into the house.
"Unca Bobby!" Maggie came running across the living room into his arms. "I missed you!"
He lifted her up and kissed her cheek. "I missed you, too, mouse."
She squeezed her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. "Can you read-a me?"
"That's why I came over, so I could collect my hug, read you a story and tuck you in."
She lifted her head and looked at him. "It's not nex' week."
"No, it's not. I missed you too much to wait until next week."
With one little hand on either side of his face, she smiled, "That's good 'cause I missed you too much, too."
She pressed her nose against his and giggled before sliding from his arms and running to Eames. "Good night, Mommy!"
Eames hugged her and gave her a kiss. "Good night, sweetheart."
"Tell Gampa good night when he gets back from-a store."
"I will."
The little girl grabbed Goren's hand and led him back toward the bedroom. "You can read my Sam book, Unca Bobby."
"Sounds like a plan, baby."
Eames watched with a smile as Maggie led him into the bedroom down the hall, and she sat down on the couch to wait for him.
When he came back out, she was in the kitchen with her father, putting away the groceries he'd gotten. "Hi, Bobby."
"Hello, John."
"I'm glad you decided to come over. Miss Maggie was starting to mope because she misses you."
Goren looked surprised. "She mopes?"
"Yes, and she's quite good at it."
He gave that some thought as he helped to finish putting away the groceries. The thought of Maggie moping for any reason disturbed him. He only wanted her to be happy. Now he wondered what he could do to change things, so that she never had a reason to be sad. His eyes strayed unconsciously to Eames and his mind drew a blank. He didn't know how to make Maggie happy...
When the groceries were in their proper place in the kitchen, John kissed his daughter and, giving Goren's arm an affectionate squeeze, said good night, leaving them alone. Eames went into the living room and sat on the couch. Goren chose to sit in John's chair near the window on the other side of the baby's toybox. The silence between them was palpable and uncomfortable. Finally Eames spoke. "Bobby, I have to apologize to you."
"No, you don't."
"Yes. Yes, I do. I have been grossly unfair to you and I have taken advantage of your friendship. I'm afraid I have just...taken you for granted so much, and I have..." She stopped for a moment, determined to get through this apology with a steady voice. "I have not stopped to consider your feelings. I've been very selfish. I...I don't know how you can forgive me, but I hope you will, eventually. Because I really am very sorry."
He didn't respond but his face told her he was thinking. Finally, he said, "You have nothing to apologize for, Eames. You did nothing I didn't let you do."
"But I hurt you and that is unforgivable. You've offered nothing but friendship and I've given you nothing but pain."
"That's not true. You gave me Maggie, and I can never thank you enough for that."
Eames was quiet for a moment, wondering if she would ever fully know just how much her little girl meant to him. "Bobby, please, just let me apologize. Forgive me or not; it's up to you. But let me say how sorry I am."
Forgive her...He fully realized that he lived in a hell of his own making. She was married to someone else, but he simply could not get past the fact that he loved her. And her misery in that marriage just compounded his own issues. Forgiving her was easy. Forgiving himself...well, that required a lot more effort than he was willing to put into it. He should have moved on with his life. He could have found himself a wife, even had a family, which was something he'd always wanted...but he didn't. Why? Because he'd lost something in himself when he'd lost her to Ricky and it was something he had never been able to recover. He wasn't sure he ever really tried because he could not get over her. Physical satisfaction was never more than a phone call away. Emotional satisfaction, and the peace that came with it, however, remained elusive, and it always would. Right now, he wanted nothing more than the freedom to love her. But he remained secure in an emotional prison that restricted any physical response...but it never dulled his desire. He knew that if she really pushed, he was likely to cave, but she had never done that to him. She'd backed off every time because he'd said no, as much as he wanted to say yes. It was in saying no that he punished her, subconsciously, for marrying Waters. And he punished himself, too, for letting her get away.
"I do forgive you," he said softly. Because I love you too damn much, he added in his mind. But he didn't have the heart, or the courage, to voice those thoughts...to hurt her like that regardless of how much she had hurt him in the past.
As unsettled as he was, though, he felt an underlying tension ease from his body as he spoke those words because he meant them this time. He did forgive her, and now they really were okay, as okay as he would ever let them be because they had to stay apart. He got to his feet. "I'd better go, before it gets any later."
"You can stay," she said quietly. "I promise I'll leave you alone."
He didn't want that, but he knew that was how it had to be. He hesitated, uncertain, until the thought of Maggie asking for jumbled eggs entered his mind. Breakfast with Maggie...his uncertainty dissolved and he nodded. "I'll stay."
She got up from the couch and retrieved a blanket and pillow for him, setting them on the arm of the couch. "You can watch TV if you want to. I'm just going to turn in. Good night, Bobby."
He hesitated until she had almost reached the hallway. "Eames," he said softly.
She stopped and turned halfway around to look at him. Something he'd told her the day of her wedding came into his mind. What had changed between them? Nothing and everything. It had taken months for him to reconcile that to the point that he could relax with her again and be her friend. He still had trouble with it at times. Had she not married Waters, he would have eventually given in to his desire for her. Then, maybe, Maggie would have been his daughter and not Waters'. But he refused to dwell on the course his life could have taken because that only brought more pain, and he had enough to deal with.
Eames would never be his and that was just a fact of his life. But he still crossed the room and drew her into a hug. She slid her arms around his waist and held him tightly, burying her face in his broad chest. Softly, he kissed her head. It was all he could do for them. "Good night, Eames," he whispered.
"Do you really forgive me?"
"Yes, of course I do. And I'm sorry, too."
"For what?"
"For not being able to give you what you want."
"Don't apologize for that, Bobby. It's my fault for wanting something I have no business wanting." Something I could have had all along. She squeezed his waist tighter. "Good night."
Stepping from his arms, she turned and went down the dark hallway to the bedroom she shared with Maggie. He walked slowly back to the couch and picked up the remote. He knew that sleep was a long way off for him. And he wasn't wrong.