"Sure… sorry to have bothered you."
She watched Booth crumple in on himself, realizing she'd made a terrible mistake in her choice of words, hurting him deeply somehow. Wondering how things could so quickly take a turn for the worse right when she'd formed what had to be the most intimate connection she'd ever shared with another human being, she stood paralyzed as he turned away from her.
A part of her mind wailed, insisting in disbelief, "But he is Catholic!"
She suddenly understood the problem, that he thought she'd pushed him away right as he was at his most exposed and vulnerable, that she had told him to take his troubles elsewhere.
Seeing the possible death of their partnership in spirit, if not in name, her mind raced at a million miles an hour, analyzing the situation and trying to figure out how to extricate herself from this mess. What should she say to him? She felt like she was running around in circles, panic rising as he finally turned the door knob.
"Booth," she mouthed, but her voice wouldn't work properly. She raised a hand out to him, but he didn't see it. She was finally able to move, stepping toward the door just as it began to swing shut. Words still failed her, her throat constricted. Looking at his retreating back she hoped he'd turn around and see her in the doorway.
He didn't.
The door closed in her face, latching with a soft click.
She stood there like an idiot for a little while longer then finally moved to close the blinds.
She stumbled to the couch and sat down, nearly sick to her stomach.