The rocks kick up from the fresh tread on the new snow tires pinging against the metal panels of the Bronco. I pause as Vic parks her truck in the marked stall next to mine in front of the station.

My hands find refuge in my coat pockets as I stand facing her, on the sidewalk, the remaining low afternoon light warming my back.

"Vic."

"Not here." Her voice is quiet but confident.

"Listen, Vic."

She stops for a moment before passing by and says, "Drew asked me to move to Carbon County." She's past me, inside of the station, and out of my sight.

I scramble but pause outside of the door; my thighs pushing open the half-door, entering the bay, thinking what is it with men wanting her to leave.

Ruby is typing her reports and Vic is at the filing cabinet. I stop and stand next to her, not because I want to, more like the compulsion to be near her nearly consume me.

"Are you leaving me?" I say as a whisper, my lips barely parting. Her eyes pop open wide noticing my words.

"I don't know am I?" She's sarcastic in that defensive way she gets when the cracks in her armor begin to display vulnerability.

"You love him?" even quieter I ask.

"This isn't about love, Walt."

"Should be."

"It isn't"

I circle and move a little closer, as she brushes past me and into my office. I turn to follow and hold the knob in my hands as I close my door. The space between us feels vast but it's not, not really. The drops of natural light fall into the office, "I'm sorry, " I say as I rest my hand on her cheek really feeling her tender soft skin for the first time.

"I know." She pauses, "They have an open spot at Rawlins P.D., Chief Palmer is holding it for me."

"Vic, I won't stop you from leaving." Her eyes flash. "I won't stop you but I will ask you not to go."

"We've been, not been, down this road before."

"It's about love."

"What are you saying?" Her eyes moving back and forth looking for any deception and waiting for hesitation of which I have neither.

"I'm saying it's about us." I'm standing close to her and she smells good. I've avoided this for so long but now that it's here it feels right.

I lean forward. I stop, taking in the sight of her, "I want to try, Vic."

She presses her hand to my cheek, her fingertips landing on the bareness of my skin, "Walt, I think it's too late for this. Whatever this is."

"Vic, you don't love him." My voice doesn't reflect the desperation that I feel.

"I don't. I've tried love before Walt and it didn't work out too well."

"The person you marry isn't the same person you divorce, Vic."

"I'm not talking about Sean." She says with a hint of pensiveness.

My hand is on her hip, and my desire to be inside of her is incomprehensible, my lips are so close that my eyes can't focus, "I'm still here," is all I can say before my tongue presses forward. I feel her hands on my back first, then her fingers through my hair, and just before they press against my ears, I hear moaning seeping from her parted lips and it nearly pushes me over the edge. The edge that we ignore, the one we suppress, the one she has me on all of the time.

Her belt buckle presses against the unmistakable hardness of my flesh but it doesn't deter my desire for her it only increases as she intensifies the moment.

I feel it inside before she does it. She pulls away from me, "I can't do this, Walt. I'm sorry," and she's gone.

I stare at the closed door, my empty office, and the pathetic truthfulness of my solitary life while the hardness between my legs fades just like the prospects of you liking me right about now.

The hollow sound of knuckles knocking on the door gives me temporary reprieve as Ruby enters without waiting for my reply.

"Walter, I have some requisition forms for you to sign." She places the papers on my desk and takes an unusual seat waiting for me to respond.

"Anything else?" I offer as I try to mask the bewilderment of the moment.

"I think so." She says. Matter of fact.

Circling back to hide behind the emotional camouflage and protection of my desk I sit and wait for her.

"Don't be a fool, Walter."

"Me a fool?" I say in my firmest most convincing voice.

She smiles past my facade. "You're acting like one."

Arrogantly, I look out toward the subtle dusk bestowing Durant, making the choice not to be angry at the truth.

"Look, Ruby, there's more to this than..."

She cuts me off, "Than what?" she's staring at me, her piercing blue eyes refusing to avert their undivided attention, "You two have been walking around each other for the past few years and it's about time you stopped and got a hold of yourselves. You're about to lose her and that, Walter, would be a mistake."

"It's too late."

"It's only too late if you make it too late."

There's nothing left to say so I don't .

"Now that I have minded your business I'm going to go mind mine." She walks out, closes the door, and leaves me to myself.

Forty-eight hours until Vic comes back to work, leaves me with 48 hours of obsessive thoughts that will never lead to a healthy outcome. I know that but it doesn't stop me from, well, obsessing. The only reasonable resolution is to let Vic go. It's manipulative, in that it is self-serving in its honor, but it is my only real option.

Walking into my office I feel worse than Pete Carroll, if that is at all possible, my poor decision-making with Vic will have far reaching life altering consequences just like Pete, both of us carrying on the long tradition of Trojan men putting our intellect and wit ahead of our instinct.

"Morning"

"Good morning, Walter."

I stop at Ruby's desk, pick up my stack of post-it's and stare just a little too long at the empty desks motioning over with a hand full of small yellow paper, "Running late?"

"No, she's not coming in today. She called in a sick day."

I look back at Ruby desperately trying to conceal the concern on my brow.

"Her first since she's been with us Walter. She didn't offer an explanation and I didn't ask." Her hands go flat, as she smoothes the paper on her desk all without looking at me.

What ensues is the quietest day in the history of Absaroka County. My thoughts aren't quiet to match the atmosphere and I surely wish they were.

The plastic bag hangs from my wrist, my head down, as I rap on her front door. I promised myself I would give it three knocks before leaving. Acting like a stalking interloper, I only decided to knock after I circled her block looking for Drew's truck. Figuring it was too big to fit in her garage I decided to take a chance. Between knock numbers two and three she answers wearing a tank top and jeans. She doesn't look sick and there are boxes everywhere.

"Really, Walt, a welfare check?"

"You've never called in sick. Thought I'd bring you some soup. It's canned but its soup just the same." She may not be sick but I'm feeling it for the both of us.

"It's not that kind of sick."

"Ah." That's the sick I feel, too.

"Come on in, Walt."

She turns back into the house and I follow through the threshold peeling off my hat as I stand in her entryway.

"Since you're here you might as well have a seat and make yourself comfortable." She says and I can't tell if she's pissed or disappointed but she's something.

That's impossible and I think she knows that.

I stay in place, "Looks like you've made up your mind about leaving." Scanning the boxes around her living room.

A bit lost, I unwrap the plastic bag that's twisted on my wrist and set it down on her coffee table.

"I got the soup. You might as well have it. I'll leave you be."

"Walt. Shut the fuck up."

I do.

"Why now?" She asks with a tinge of anger and confusion.

My eyebrows arch.

"Why now, Walt?"

"Can I speak?" my hand offers up the sarcasm to compliment my subdued tone.

"Don't be an asshole."

"Just following orders."

Her brown eyes nearly roll back inside of her skull.

"Since when do you ever follow orders from me?"

"All the time. Just don't think you notice."

"I notice." She's softer, her defenses down a tad, genuinely sounding remorseful. "Why now, Walt?" She asks, again.

I step closer eliminating the physical distance between us.

"I know there's something here, between us, I think I know what it is, although I never said it out loud to anyone. It's been here between us from the beginning. It's only gotten stronger and standing there in front of old Mazie's house I don't know, Vic, it just suddenly came flooding in."

"But why now, Walt?"

"The passage of time. It slips by us, it doesn't wait, it doesn't pause. It sure as hell doesn't give us a chance to go back. I've been living in the rearview mirror but I have the entire front window in front of me. I don't want any more time to pass without you being a part of my future."

She looks down like she's considering my words then back up her eyes more determined than ever.

"You said you don't love Drew but I don't want to get between you, Vic. I'm not that man." I feel the small faint smile come on my lips trying to hide my fear.

"I know you're not, Walt but you're not the man I want."

I nod acknowledging her but it's a reaction made by instinct only because I effectively have shut down as I become aware of the flush of my face and the pit in my stomach. If you have never felt it it really does feel like the floor drops from under your feet. A fast falling elevator crashing in the basement.

"Believe it or not Walt you're not the only good man in the state of Wyoming."

I turn and look up at the ceiling because I've made so many assumptions. I feel my lips quiver but I steady them before I speak.

"I understand, Vic." My hand drops to my side hitting my thigh. I look down avoiding her penetrating stare and I turn back toward her door. The few steps facing away from her allow me to recoup my senses.

"Do I even have a chance?" There's no hint of desperation in my voice there is just pain there. I can hear it just as I feel it as I say it.

"I don't know Walt." Her arms are crossed and the words flow, "I don't want a man who is so self-absorbed he can't find a permanent space for me. You're right about there being something between us. I've felt it from the beginning too but at this point, I don't think I want to go through all the suffering to even see what this is between us."

"Suffering?"

"Yeah, Walt, haven't you ever noticed how you make all the people who love you suffer?"

My hands grip my hips, my lips are pressed firm against each other, my mind rolls through and recalls more than a fair share of disappointed loved ones.

"It's not like we can fuck and leave it at that can we?" She says.

A simple and slight nod of my head suffices as her answer.

"That's what I thought."

"Do you feel anything for Drew?" My voice changes from cleverly disinterested to hard and judgmental with that one sentence.

"Why do you care?" At those words I turn to fully face her conscious of the distance I'm keeping between us.

Remember that moment I wanted and you wanted, too? It's here.

"Because I love you. I've loved you for a long time. That's the answer to any question you will ever have where I'm concerned." I don't wait for a reaction, for a defense or for her to possibly say the words back and I open her front door. I pass through the threshold, turn and look back lifting my head as I put my O'Farrell on square, "Just so you know, Vic, if I do have a chance, I'm gonna fight like hell for it."

I close the door behind me and don't think of going back. She's effectively made her choice and it's not me.