A/N: First of all, let me say a heartfelt thank you to everyone who left a review or PM'ed me to soothe my fragile muse.

Second of all, let me say sorry for the delay in updating. Blame it on real life and the length of this chapter (probably the longest I've ever written). I didn't want to spilt it up, though, because this is the turning point for Gillian and Cal so that things can get better between them. I tried to wrap up season two (incl. the Burns storyline) and the beginning of season three and hope it worked and is not too complicated. For the sake of this story, I pretended that 2x12 Sweet sixteen happened the next day after 2x11 Beat the devil.

This chapter continues right where the last one ended (in the middle of their argument). The passage in the middle in italics is a flashback. Since the story takes more and more place in the present now and is told from both of their points of view, I gave up my earlier structure to label flashbacks and presence in the hope that it is self-explanatory.

Disclaimer: Not mine. This is just for fun.

It's over.

That's all Gillian can think. Cal's harsh words. His demeanor. Like an animal ready to attack any moment. As if she was his worst enemy. He never talked to her in that tone of voice or behaved like that towards her before. Whatever it was between them, it seems to be shattered now.

Her instinct tells her to flee, to get out, but Cal is standing between her and the door, blocking her way out. Gillian hears shallow and fast breathing, aware that it is her own and that she is going to hyperventilate if she isn't able to calm down. Her vision already gets blurry, and her legs turn to jelly; she blindly reaches out to steady herself. This is the one thing she didn't want to happen. She is falling apart, drowning, and Cal has a seat in the front row so that he will see everything.

Just when Gillian knows she is not able to stand upright any longer, she feels Cal hands, a soft and tender touch that stands in marked contrast to his earlier outrage. He leads her to his sofa and helps her sit down. While her pulse is pounding mercilessly in her ears, Gillian hears him clatter with crockery in the background. Shortly afterwards, he carefully pushes a glass of water into her hands.

"Here, drink this," Cal mumbles, and she thinks she feels his hand stroke her hair affectionately but considering her condition, she can't be sure.

Her whole body is shaking. With every sip, though, Gillian feels how she calms down more and more until her breathing is regular again and her vision not blurry anymore. Only now, she realizes that Cal is not sitting next to her on the sofa but right in front of her on the coffee table. His facial expression is not difficult to read. He is worried about her and probably sitting so close to her so that he can catch her in case she hyperventilates and loses consciousness.

Maybe falling apart isn't as bad as she thought. Maybe he won't let her drown after all.

"Thank you," she says, her voice faint. Despite the weird situation, she wants him to know that she appreciates his concern.

They fall silent, and Gillian could tell Cal that he doesn't need to sit that close to her because she is better. Then again, and no matter how much the extent of his rage scared her just moments ago, his nearness soothes her, makes her feel comforted and protected.

She can't look at him, though, not as long as all these unanswered questions hang in the air between them. Instead, she looks down and sees his hands twitch in his lap, longing to touch her. Most likely he avoids the physical contact because he senses that her fight or flight reflex is still trying to gain the upper hand and that she will jump up and run out the moment he decides to actually touch her.

"Probably should apologize for what I said to you, but the thing is, luv, I don't want to," Cal's words break the silence.

Gillian feels his gaze on her skin. He is looking at her, waiting for a reaction. She takes another sip of water to buy herself some time even if she knows that he sees through what she is doing. Eventually, she nods. Aside from his choice of words, Cal was right to address things. He doesn't snap for no reason. Cal is complicated, insufferable on some days, but his words and actions always have a cause, especially when it comes to her. They can't keep running away, have reached a point at which they are running away from themselves. She is tired, so tired, and by the way Cal looks at her, he is exhausted, too.

"Okay," she says, straightening herself and finally looking at him. There is surprise and something else (relief?) in his face. "But maybe you should apologize for other things you said or did," Gillian continues. "And so should I."

The atmosphere between them changes. This is the talk, the argument they, no she, always avoided until he stopped trying to address it.

It's over. The words force their way back in Gillian's thoughts. Yes, something definitely will come to an end tonight, but maybe it doesn't necessarily mean that everything is lost. Maybe there is a chance that this crazy, sexy, insufferable man and she have a future that doesn't include one of them leaving the company or breaking with the other for good. She never thought that could be even remotely possible. That's why she always avoided to talk to him, stalling, delaying the obvious. On the other hand, she also never would have thought it could be remotely possible that Cal talked to her the way he did. He seems to be much more bothered about the circumstances than she was aware of. She studies his face some more, his inscrutable eyes that look back at her, flickering now and then due to a hint of uncertainty. Uncertainty and... hurt. Gillian didn't know that her behavior, that she, hurt him. Angry? Yes, she knows without a doubt that he was and still is angry with her. Heard it loud and clear just minutes ago. It's the reason why he lashed out verbally and behaved badly recently. Hurt? No, she didn't know that, and it sets something free deep inside of her that makes her chest tighten. Suddenly, there is a lump in her throat, and she has to swallow.

The situation between them had been tense and screwed up even before they slept together for the first time. Now, Gillian realizes that it was her who laid the ground for things to go downhill afterwards...

That night, after they had slept together for the first time, they eventually fell asleep on his sofa (at least they had made it as far as there because the floor had been too uncomfortable after a while). Sometime, in the middle of the night, Gillian woke up and sneaked out of Cal's house. Without waking him up, without leaving a note, without even kissing him goodbye. To this day, she doesn't know whether he woke up while she was getting dressed and just pretended to be asleep. She never asked. However, she left and spent the rest of the night wide awake in her own house, thinking about what to do next. The sex had been great, but there hadn't been an emotional connection between them. It had been how she had expected it to be, how she had expected Cal to be. (Or perhaps, it had been her who had managed to leave her emotions outside when she had walked over his doorstep, but Gillian wasn't able to realize that back then, too many emotions clouding her judgement.) All night, she was shivering and didn't know whether it was due to the exciting memories or her utter fear to lose him. Two sides of the same coin.

At sunrise, Gillian still had no idea how to handle the situation or what to tell Cal. But when she arrived at the office, an explosion saved the day for her, so to speak. People were hurt. Lives were in danger. Their own lives. Cal and Gillian were confronted with the demons of their past, with an old case they had believed to be over and done. All that came to the fore, and they agreed with a brief glance that the rest had to wait.

Unfortunately, there was even more to the old case than mortal danger. Gillian had to admit a lie to Cal. A lie she had told back then when they both had been working for the Pentagon, back then when they had met for the first time – psychologist and patient. It was a lie she had told to save his life and the life of his family; it hadn't been selfish at all that she had been keeping the truth from him the entire time. Nevertheless, it was a lie, and it was the worst possible moment for Gillian to confess.

When the threat finally was over, Gillian did the unavoidable; she told Cal everything. He forgave her almost immediately and took her in his arms, allowing her to indulge in the feeling that everything between them was okay. In fact, considering all that happened, they both needed that moment of closeness – emotionally and physically – even if they both knew that it wasn't over. Therefore, after her confession and their reconciliation, Gillian went back to her office and waited. It didn't take long.

"Was that the only lie you told me?" Cal asked the moment he came in at her door.

"You mean aside from all the little white lies we tell every day?" Gillian made a futile attempt to ease their conversation; an attempt he didn't even acknowledge with a reaction, let alone an answer.

"Yes, it was," she relented.

Cal gave some thought to her answer only to ask another question. One that didn't actually surprise her. In the context of the lie she had admitted, it all suddenly seemed to be much more complicated though.

"What about last night?"

"Last night wasn't a lie," Gillian whispered, her voice burdened with emotion.

He could accuse her of many things when it came to last night, and she didn't know as yet how she would or could describe what had happened between them, but it definitely hadn't been a lie. If anything, it had been a truth so painful that she had no name for it.

She had looked down when she had said that and when Gillian eventually looked up at Cal again, he was studying her, his gaze so intense that it made her skin crawl.

Back then, she was so worn out that she didn't give thought to it, believed it would be enough to tell him the truth or at least what she believed to be true. Last night wasn't a lie. She should have known that Cal wasn't looking for what it wasn't. He was looking for what it was, what it had meant to her. She overlooked so much, maybe even could have seen a glimpse of what he didn't say, didn't dare to ask, in his face if she had been able to look beyond her own fears.

Love.

They hadn't made love; he wasn't delusional (and neither was Gillian). It had been just sex – quick, rough and desperate. Cal had wanted to make love to her – save that Gillian wouldn't let him. Every time he had slowed down or tried to be gentler, she had urged him on, almost as if she had wanted to get it over with even if he could hear and feel how much she enjoyed it. Cal had been aware that she meant a lot to him, more than anyone else in the whole world aside from his daughter. Yet, he hadn't admitted to himself what he actually felt for her until he had heard the door close behind her last night when she had walked out on him. The sound had ripped his heart out; there was no use to deny it any longer. He loved her whereas Gillian...

Cal simply didn't know, her face more or less blank while he was looking at her, studying her, eager to find any micro expression that would give him even the slightest hint. There was none, though, save for confusion and desperation but that was to be expected after their day (not to mention the night). He should have looked closer, longer, shouldn't have been afraid. Maybe then he would have seen it – buried deep down under so many other emotions that got in the way and made it impossible for her to see it herself back then even if she felt it.

As it was, Cal didn't see anything while Gillian's scattered thoughts were making her dizzy. He always seemed to handle his affairs so easily. Perhaps it could work for them, too. They went back such a long way – perhaps they would be able to handle it, too. Some kissing and sex would do no harm in the long run, wouldn't it? So many lies that tried to convince her. So many truths that failed to make their voices heard. If Gillian had been honest with herself, she would have realized that this was one of the lies that purred nonsense into her ears, that she wanted anything but be one of his affairs.

The fact remained, though, that she also didn't know what she wanted at that point. Yes, she wanted Cal in more than last night's don't-be-gentle way, but that included all his flaws and the risk that he would hurt her – again. Vegas. His passion for gambling. His unpredictability. Vegas was everywhere, and Cal was not someone for the long haul. It always came back to that. Gillian was highly aware of the difference between indulging in a fantasy (even if she had granted herself a weak moment to actually let it come true the night before, well, at least the physical part of it) or dealing with the harsh reality (where disappointment and hurt would be far too high a price for whatever fleeting happiness they might find in her book). Gillian knew they had reached a point at which being together was the logical next step; she knew that she was drawn to Cal irresistibly against her better judgement and despite the fact that he was everything she wasn't. Except that it wouldn't work. Even more so because she still hadn't found her new place in the world after her divorce.

So, if you had asked Gillian back then, she wouldn't have been able to tell whether she loved Cal or not. In fact, she would have probably denied it. (Proof that even the best psychologists can be wrong sometimes.) Instead...

"Can we give each other a little time to digest everything that happened?" Gillian asked when it became clear that Cal wouldn't comment her statement, ignoring what it did or did not mean for the time being.

She knew that she owed him more. Yet, there simply wasn't more she had to give at the moment. Like Cal, Gillian could have seen so much more in his face if she had taken a closer look. But she was too confused, her mind and body in such an uproar that she almost felt consumed by him. And that had stirred the need in her to distance herself from him and led to her question.

Later, Cal was angry with himself that he had agreed, that he had let her get out the easy way. Another time. Stalling, delaying. It was the third time in a row. After their kiss, after Vegas, and now, after the first time they had slept together. He, of all people, should have seen the red warning sign. Considering his options and the very real possibility that she would have rejected him if he had insisted on clearing things up at a moment's notice, though, he had preferred to give his consent. It had been the choice between the devil and the deep blue sea. Not an actual choice. More like a necessity given the circumstances. Cal wanted to ask Gillian so many things. Who are you? being the most pressing of them. The woman he saw every day at work wasn't the woman anymore he had once known inside out (or that's what he had thought). That woman hadn't lied to him and hadn't slept with men just to fulfill a physical need. All the same, he loved her. Because. Despite. Either way.

It didn't take Cal long to realize that Gillian's request to give each other a little time actually had been a synonym for distancing herself from him. The air that surrounded him suddenly was colder. Her warmth – the warmth of her voice, her smile, her body, suddenly was a constant absence in his life. Somehow, she managed to make it all appear as completely normal on the surface, but underneath there was that big black wormhole they didn't talk about.

Cal knew his reaction was wrong. Probably. Most likely. Oh well, who was he trying to fool? It was wrong. Period. But he did it, anyway. Flirted with another suspect/client/investor. Or maybe more. And made sure that Gillian noticed it, all of it – the flirting and the maybe more. Their growing distance was slowly but surely killing him. And since she wouldn't let him talk to her, it was the only option he had to express his feelings – hurting her as much as she was hurting him.

Just when he thought that it didn't work, Gillian called him another time in the middle of the night, and their little game continued. Cal's sense told him not to do it, to reject her. Then again, and contrary to popular belief, he is only human after all. He loved Gillian and if there was no other possibility to be close to her, he was willing to settle for wanting her and giving in to this need. After that, it happened again a couple of times. Not often, only now and then. Barely enough to make good for their distance in day-to-day life but always enough to keep him wanting more afterwards. Desperately.

Maybe you should apologize for other things you said or did. And so should I.

Cal watches her impassively, or at least he makes it look that way, letting her words sink in.

"So... name it. What should I apologize for?" he eventually asks.

"No, that's not how it works," Gillian answers quietly. "If I have to tell you, then it counts for nothing."

Cal gives some more thought to that. Then...

"I apologize for everything that happened in Vegas and after Vegas," he says. "But only until... Burns. I will apologize for nothing that happened afterwards. That's your turn, luv."

Gillian is relieved and a little surprised that Cal apologized with almost no hesitation. An apology for his reckless behavior that sometimes even endangered his life, for his inappropriate flirts and affairs. She has a vague idea why he doesn't want to apologize for his silly behavior during and after Burns. Gillian always knew Cal had a problem with him no matter how relaxed he tried to appear to be. Let alone that she never actually spoke with Cal about him and the altered circumstances. Right now, though, something else is bothering her. If Cal is sorry for everything that happened between Vegas and Burns, he also is sorry for sleeping with her back then. At least that is the implication.

"For everything?" She has to get to the bottom of it.

Cal is still sitting right in front of her although they still have no physical contact. So close, and yet, so far away from each other.

Gillian has no explanation how they can, or rather could, go from friends to lovers within hours or sometimes even within what felt like the split of a second. Somehow, they are everything for each other – business partners, friends, lovers. They just can't be it at the same time, and it is getting increasingly difficult to overcome or ignore the gaps between those worlds. She has no idea how their talk will end, which world will win and who they will be for each other afterwards.

"Yes."

She can no longer dwell on her thoughts. Cal's answer brings her back down to earth with a jolt. It takes her a moment to realize that he answered to her question. Then she realizes what his answer means or at least what she believes it means.

"Yes?" Gillian all but shouts incredulously and leans back, away from him. He just more or less told her that he regrets their little nighttime intermezzos.

"Yes, luv," Cal repeats seemingly unfazed, only the clenching of his teeth giving away that he isn't.

He told her that he doesn't want her, didn't want her in the first place. Right in her face. Sitting right in front of her. At least that is what she understood. And yet, he slept with her whenever she knocked on his door in the middle of the night. How dare he? But as soon as Gillian even thinks about jumping up and getting out, she feels Cal's hands on her arms, pressing her down softly.

"Gill... Look at me..."

She hears his voice, but she can't bring herself to look into his eyes, is repulsed and ashamed of what his statement means.

"Bloody hell. Look at me, Gillian."

It's the fear in his voice that makes her look at him finally not the harsh words.

"You and me," he says, "That was great but wrong, and you know why. I should have stopped it, but I couldn't. That's what I apologized for and nothing else – whatever you think you just heard."

Normally, Cal might not be able to read her albeit sometimes he can, and this time, he got it right, saw the rejection she felt in her face. However, referring to their nights as something that was great but wrong doesn't make it much better.

Then Gillian remembers her own words after their first night together, after she had literally escaped out of his house. Last night wasn't a lie. She remembers how important it was to her that he believed her when she said those words months ago. Save that now, she realizes that she was wrong. It was a lie. She gave her body to him that night but not her heart. Their first night was a lie, so were the nights after that followed, and so would have been this night if he had let her go through with it. It is painful to admit to herself that what happened between them came much closer to the horrible word Cal used when he yelled at her angrily than to her imagination (because whenever Gillian thinks of those nights, she thinks of how they made love). Cal is right. It was great but wrong. She wonders whether he realized it back then already (and if yes, why he didn't call her out on it) or not until tonight. Either way, he is aware of it now, and so is she.

Cal's hands still linger loosely on her arms to hold her on the spot.

"I won't leave," she assures him.

He hesitates, studying her carefully, and eventually takes his hands away.

"Your turn," he reminds her of her words and that they both should apologize.

"I apologize for not letting you talk to me, for making things even more complicated," Gillian says softly. "I know we should have talked, but I was so confused and didn't know what was right or wrong." She makes a pause, and her voice drops down to a whisper. "I also apologize for coming to you in those nights. You are right it was great but wrong, and it was my mistake not yours. I got you into that."

Cal's facial expression softens but then his eyes darken, and she wonders what she said (or didn't say) that seems to fuel his anger anew. He stands up all of a sudden and walks around the coffee table that works as a barrier or shield between them now.

"So, you decided to stop coming by at night because you realized it was a mistake and exchanged me for Burns," Cal says with a snarl. "What about tonight? You're back because you couldn't find a new Burns in time?"

Cal's emotions are like a roller coaster. One minute, he is abuzz with tenderness and affection, wants to take Gillian in his arms and tell her that everything will be fine, and the next minute, her innocent, beautiful face is nothing but a provocation because he can't believe that she went so easily from one man (him) to the other (Burns), making him want to lash out and hurt her.

Burns... Cal said he would apologize for everything until Burns. Gillian knows he was jealous. He already was jealous of other men even before their kiss and their nighttime encounters. Therefore, she was prepared to apologize for whatever hurt she might have caused him by being with another man. His accusation and choice of words fueled her anger, too, though. There will be no apology for Burns. Gillian tries to bite back her rage and suppress an equally improper answer. Ignoring Cal's outbursts is one of her specialties. She can handle an out-of-control Cal in her sleep. Usually. Tonight? Not so much.

"Dave? That was one affair, Cal. One. While you had plenty. And you know damn well that I didn't come to you while Dave and I were together. So, what's the point?"

That leaves him speechless for a moment. Because the point is... so much. Let alone that he just heard Gillian Foster swear. Obviously, he touched a nerve.

"I," he accentuates, "had no affair. Not after we started..." His hands gesture back and forth between them, the implication being sleeping together.

"Oh, please, Cal," Gillian snorts. "Tell that to someone else. What about – what was her name – Clara?" The suspect/client/investor.

"Didn't sleep with her," he states. "Only was interested in your reaction."

This time, it's Gillian's turn to be speechless. The surprise at his admission is written all over face, and Cal's thoughts use the time to stray. What he told her is the truth, but he didn't realize until now that his plan backfired. By flirting with Clara, he intended Gillian to come and talk to him about Clara (and about them in the process). Instead, she assumed he slept with her and decided to have an affair herself with Burns. Cal tastes bile. A long-con that went totally haywire. Moreover, though, it surprises Cal that Gillian came to him on some nights even if she assumed he was sleeping with Clara. So much for Gillian Foster being a good girl. It irritates and excites him at the same time. He almost dreads what else he will learn about her until this is over. Then again, everything he learns makes him want her more, love her more. She has so many layers, and he wants to peel off all of them. There is one ace, though, he has up his sleeve. An ace that caused him many sleepless nights.

"And most important, luv," he adds, "I didn't love her." But you loved Burns. The words remain unspoken. Gillian understands the insinuation, anyway.

Did she love Burns? It's not the first time she asks herself that but always denied herself an honest answer. She told Ben that she was in love with Dave when she wanted Ben to do a background check on him. But the truth is, as much as she wanted to love Dave – wanted so bad to be in love with him because it seemed to be the only chance to get away from Cal, to get over him – it only worked when they were together, when there was no Cal. Not in her thoughts and not in real life. Cal had proven that he wasn't the one for the long haul. Vegas had been no exception. It had been the rule. When he had an affair with Clara – no, it was only a flirt, she has to correct herself, but she didn't know it back then because he made sure to rub her nose in whatever was going on between him and Clara – it was the icing on the cake. She needed to risk making the break whenever there would be the chance, and Burns was the chance. If she is honest with herself, she and Burns were doomed to fail right from the start. Yes, I want her. In the worst possible way. When Cal said that, even if it was meant to distract and get them out of a dangerous situation, her body reacted instantly. She was reminded of every kiss, every touch they ever shared. She wouldn't have been able to stay away from Cal much longer and would have ended her affair with Burns even if it hadn't been over that night, anyway.

"Um," Gillian has trouble sorting her thoughts. "The threat concerning your finances, Wallowski, your inappropriate flirt during our current case. All this because of Burns? Because you thought I loved him?"

She assumed that Cal's intolerable behavior was caused by Burns, but she simply blamed it on the affair itself and not on the fact that Cal thought...

Gillian stands up. This is an argument she doesn't want to have while she is sitting and he is looking down at her. She steps around the table half way and then stops so that she doesn't get too close to him. They are standing face to face.

"I didn't know...," she begins, but he interrupts her.

"What? That I love you?" He never wanted to say it like that, in the middle of an argument, in a voice that is anything but tender, but the truth is the truth, and he is not holding back any longer.

There is a long, painful pause. Cal didn't know what kind of reaction he expected. In any case, not this one.

"I know that you love me," Gillian says and laughs drily when he can't hide his stunned state. He is the expert in reading micro expressions, but did he really expect her not to see it, not to hear it in his voice? She swallows. "But that's not the point. Never has been, hasn't it?"

It's true; she always knew, knew it was all up to her – take the risk and love him back or shut herself off. But she pretended not to know so that she could stick to her plan that those nights only fulfilled a physical need and nothing else even more fiercely. As long as she pretended, no one would get hurt. Deep down, she was aware, of course, that she was not only hurting herself back then but also him in the process. Up to this day, though, she couldn't actually feel it. Now, she feels all of it. It almost presses the air out of her lungs. She is so sorry, so utterly sorry.

"Cal..."

Gillian looks at him in a way so vulnerable, tearing up, that all Cal wants is to comfort her. But now is not the time. Comfort would most likely turn into kisses, they would end up in bed together, and nothing would be solved. He still can't believe that she knew it all along. Another time he underestimated her. Then again, maybe it makes things easier that she already knows. Another step in the right direction even if they are not quite there.

He takes a quick step forward so that she has no time to step back, grabs her wrist and pulls her into his hallway until they are standing in front of a huge mirror. Other people would certainly describe both of them as attractive. Tonight, though, something is different. And it's not their ruffled hair and crinkled clothes that make the difference and that Cal wants to show her.

"What do you see?" he asks her, pointing at the mirror.

"Us," Gillian says, shrugging.

"Lie," he emphasizes. "Try again. What do you see?"

She looks at his reflection in the mirror, really looks at him, at this man who is the person she is closest to in the whole world. And she doesn't recognize him anymore. Then she looks at her own reflection and shivers. She always believed the changes only were inwardly, but somehow it all has come to the surface tonight. At least if you knew how to interpret the signs. Gillian doesn't recognize herself either. Who are these two, strange people in the mirror? What have they done to each other?

"Yes, luv," Cal confirms. "That's not a pretty sight."

She turns to face him, reaching out to touch his face.

"I didn't love Burns," she whispers. "And I didn't know you believed I did and that I hurt you so much. Why didn't you say something?"

Cal doesn't call her out on it that she, the psychologist, could have known all that if she had given it some serious thought.

"Couldn't, didn't want to," he simply says instead. "Wanted to give you the time you needed."

No matter how painful it was for him, Cal wanted to give Gillian time, wanted to let her find out alone. Whether she loved another man, like Burns, or him. When she kissed him as if nothing had happened when they were undercover shortly after she and Burns had broken up, though, he abandoned all hope. Nothing would change. One day, she would most likely start coming to him at night again. It would continue forever in an endless circle, and it would kill him. That's why he began to act up – to punish her, to keep her away from him, to buy them time before they would destroy everything. A dangerous mixture that brought them here. But perhaps the painful journey wasn't in vain.

"Why did you come to me tonight?" he asks softly, touching her hand that still lingers on his face.

"You know why," she admits. Then she blushes, pulls her hand away and looks down.

"No, I don't."

Of course, Cal knows that Gillian came over to churn up his bed sheets together with him as a willing participant. However, that is only the effect not the cause. He is no psychologist, but even he knows as much.

"So, tell me, Gill" he insists, and they both know that he doesn't refer to the physical part.

You tell me we're okay. His question earlier today. This is why she is here. Despite his irritating, insufferable behavior, she wants them to be okay, needs them to be. As they were once. But she can't bring herself to say it because saying it means admitting that she can no longer run away from her true feelings, can't escape the risk taker who will take over her life the moment she says it.

A single teardrop finds its way across her cheek.

"I can't...," she whispers.

He wipes the tear away tenderly, then leans forward to kiss her. After a brief moment, Gillian responds, and it's completely different from any kiss they shared before. Cal can feel it. She is not holding back any longer. This time, he is actually kissing her not an empty shell of herself that only feels and smells good. But when their kiss becomes more intense, when his hands find their way in her hair and under her shirt, he feels her tense up and pull away.

"Sorry, I can't do that," Gillian barely manages to get the words out, already stepping back.

Cal doesn't block her way or hold her back as he did when their argument started. He lets her go even if he dreads to be confronted with the silence and emptiness of his house, even if his hands and body cool down without the closeness and warmth of her. He lets her go because Gillian needs some time on her own to digest what just happened. She can no longer sleep with him just like that, as if it didn't matter in the overall context. Sleeping with him tonight would have been a first, the start of something that scares her so much that she runs away.

There is a smile on Cal's face, anyway. She can't run away forever. And moreover, he is now dead certain of the one thing she had been able to hide from him (and to a great extent apparently even from herself) until tonight.

Gillian loves him, too.

If you made it through the whole chapter, I'm impressed. If you also enjoyed it, I'm very happy.

Too complicated/unrealistic or a possible version of Callian?

Thank you for reading. Reviews are very appreciated. Next chapter: Things get better.