Here is the final chapter of this story. Thanks to all of those who stuck with it throughout. It took a bit of a different direction to what I imagined (well actually i didn't know what direction it was going to take so that probably explains it :) ) but I'm quite happy where it went in the end. So enjoy and remember how much I love reviews (wink wink nudge nudge) :) As usual blah blah don't own Lie to Me blah blah.
***
He woke and scrubbed his hands over his eyes. He knew he was in her room but the surroundings seemed different from last night. His eyes swept across the floor and finally landed on an empty bed. That's what was missing. Gillian. It took a second to register the smell wafting from downstairs. Coffee and toast. He stood up and stretched. That chair really wasn't comfortable at all. He padded down the stairs, eventually reaching the kitchen. Her back was turned away from him but even by her posture he could tell she was feeling better. She turned when she felt a presence in the room. Her smile just reached her eyes before it was gone again.
'Hey.'
He smiled warmly back at her.
'Hey, yourself. How are you feeling this morning?'
She turned away and continued to make the coffee. She wanted to be able to regulate what she said and when she was looking at him she couldn't do that very well.
'Better thanks. I think actual sleep did me some good.'
She paused, knowing she had to say something about last night. She began to speak as she carried the coffee and toast over to the table.
'Listen, I'm sorry about last night...and the last few days. I know in some ways, I did overreact. It's just...' she stopped, unable to go on.
'Just what, love? Just say it. You'll feel better, I promise.'
She took a deep breath and continued.
'Don't take this the wrong way. It's just...that it's always about you. You risking your life, you doing something stupid, you stopping at nothing to uncover the truth. It's tiring trying to look out for you all the time, make sure you're safe. And then the one time I needed to just do something stupid, just be able to not care what others' think and what will happen the next day, you come along and tell me I can't. It infuriates me sometimes Cal. The rules apply to everyone but you. I needed to not be the responsible one for once. I needed to just be able to grieve. But you couldn't let me do that.'
She let out the breath she had been holding the whole time and turned away. She couldn't let him see the tears begin to well in her eyes.
He felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. Multiple times. 'How could he have done this to her?' he thought to himself.
He tried to formulate the right words but again, for the second time in two days, came up blank. 'I guess honesty is the best policy,' he thought.
He reached out to hold her hand, the touch enough to get her to look him in the eye.
'I am..I'm so sorry love. My problem is that I'm often blinded by the truth. Spend so much damn time looking for it, I forget those around me. And that's not fair on anyone, especially you. For someone so good at reading people I sure miss the important things. Want to know something?'
She looked at him closely, curious.
'Last night when I watched you sleep, all I could feel was guilt. How could I have not known about something so significant in your past? We've known each other for years. Have been best friends, partner for years. Gone through the good times, the bad times. Yet I had spent so much of that time thinking about myself that I missed something so vital. Something that was so important to you. Which means that it's important to me. I don't want your forgiveness. I don't even want your acceptance. I just thought you deserved to know that, yes I know I can be a prick most of the time. But I still care and will always be there for you.'
This time she let him see the tears well up in her eyes. But they weren't necessarily tears of sadness. But rather of gratitude, acceptance and even forgiveness. There was however, one last thing she had to confess to him.
She walked into her lounge room and opened the drawer to her cabinet. Picking up a piece of paper inside, she walked over and wordlessly passed it to Cal. On it, an address was written.
He looked up, confused. 'I'm sorry Gill, I don't understand.'
'The day after it all happened, my family held a small ceremony for my baby. This is the address of where she is buried. I've never been able to go visit. But maybe...this year...' she trailed off.
He understood. Standing up he took her hand.
'I would be honoured.'
***
They stood in front of a small grave site, the wind gently blowing through the branches of the trees. She knelt down, placing a bunch of daisies just under the headstone. She stood up, reading it out loud.
Annabel Rosalind Foster. April 2nd 2000. Our little angel, you never got to spread your wings here on earth, but may you be flying high above.
Her shoulders began to shake but he was here for her this time. He placed a single arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. And as a single tear fell to the earth below, she no longer felt alone.