She sits quietly. She tries her hardest not to cry. Her thoughts make her delirious. She stares off into space. When her eyes focus she wishes that she's elsewhere. She takes a deep breath, and begins to speak. She looks at him, she doesn't blink as she tells him, "No one can know about you. At least not yet, maybe not ever."
He doesn't respond. She leaves the room, and she goes home. She tosses and turns, and sleep eludes her. She hugs half a dozen down pillows. The silence kills her, and the emptiness consumes her.
The alarm rings but she's already awake. She crawls out of bed, and starts the day. By the time she gets to work she exhausted.
"Did you hear me?"
Wilhelmina looks up and finds Claire standing in front of her desk. "No. What did you say?"
"The meeting is getting ready to start, are you coming?"
"Yes," she inhales.
Everyone notices the shift in Wilhelmina's behavior. She remains quiet throughout the entire day. Marc pops through the door.
"Should I be scared?"
"Of what?" Wilhelmina answers.
"Is something going on with you? You're being too quiet."
"I'm sorry," she apologizes, "I'm just not getting enough sleep."
"Because of the time change?"
"I doubt it," she admits.
"So what then? Is there a new man in your life?"
"Hardly."
"Are you ever going to tell me what happened?"
"When?"
"In London, before London..."
"Marc don't worry about it."
"How can I not? You left with no notice, and now you're back, and weirder than ever."
"Drop it," she insists.
"Why did you let him hurt you so badly?"
"I didn't," she argues.
"The expression on your face says differently."
"I don't care about Daniel anymore. I'm over him."
"I don't believe you."
"I've moved on."
"With someone new?"
"With my life. I've got other things to worry about."
"Is there something wrong with you?"
"No."
"Fine," he crosses his arms, and leaves the room.
Later that day he finds himself eavesdropping on her phone conversation. He stands outside her door, and listens quietly.
"I'm fully aware of that. Yes I know. Dr. Clark I understand what you're saying, but I don't know what you want me to do. I don't know anything about any of this. It's all new to me. And what's the treatment? And the side effects? Is that the only option? Then you should start the treatment. Yes I'll be in after work. Ok. Thank you. Goodbye," she hangs up the phone.
Marc leaves the doorway, and runs to Betty. She looks up at him as he takes a puff of his inhaler.
"Why are you out of breath?"
"I've got to talk to someone."
"And you picked me?"
"You were the first person I saw."
"Joy," she rolls her eyes.
"No this is good."
"What?"
"It's not good, it's bad, terrible in fact..."
"What."
"I think that there is something wrong with Willie."
"Obviously."
"No. I think that she's sick."
"Yes Marc, we all know that she's sick, twisted, and cruel. That isn't noteworthy."
"Listen."
"I am listening."
"I think that she's sick."
"I heard that."
"Ill. I heard her talking to a doctor on the phone."
"That doesn't mean anything. She's got at least half a dozen doctors on speed dial."
"She was talking to him about treatment options."
"For what?"
"I don't know," he shrugs.
"Marc you're being ridiculous."
"I heard her tell him to start the treatment, and that she'd be in after work."
"You're crazy. I'm sure that she's fine."
"Maybe she's not. Maybe she's got a terminal illness. That would explain her behavior lately."
"Whatever."
"Do something," he begs.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Anything, she's had a soft spot for you lately."
"Fine," she sighs.
Betty stops by Claire's office on her way out of the office for the day.
"Can I help you Betty?"
"Marc insists that Wilhelmina is terminally ill."
"Why would he think that?"
"He over heard her on the phone."
"What do you want me to do?"
"I don't know. Talk to her. I don't really care, but Marc will never leave me alone, unless I do something."
"Ok, I'll take care of it," she agrees.
Claire leaves her office. She finds Wilhelmina packing up her things, getting ready to leave for the day.
"What do you need Claire?" she groans.
"Can I talk to you for a second?"
"Can I stop you?"
"You've been acting strange lately."
"I'm just trying to get readjusted."
"I think that it's more than that."
"Maybe," she shrugs, "I've really got to go. I have somewhere I need to be."
"Are you terminally ill?"
"No. Why would you think that?"
"Would you actually tell me if you were?"
"Probably not, but I'm fine. Where did that come from, anyway?"
"It doesn't matter. I'm concerned about you."
"Why?"
"I can tell that something isn't right."
"What's your point?"
"You're hiding something. I know it, you know it, most of the Mode employees know it."
"So?"
"Are you going to tell me what?"
"I'll admit, I am hiding something, but it's not what you think."
"I don't know what to think with your behavior lately."
"Don't worry about it."
"I have to. The magazine is in your hands."
"I'm not going to tell you. If you needed to know, then you would," Wilhelmina reassures her.