After Cal left, Gillian stood there for god only knew how long. Just staring off into space, his words fuzzy in her mind, almost like a dream.
"Taking one of those risks."
And then all of a sudden she just had to get out of there; to somewhere- anywhere. She hastily locked up and bolted to her car as fast as her high heels allowed. What are you running from? Do you think if you run fast enough what transpired between you two won't catch up?
She inserted her key, revved the engine, and just drove. Unconsciously she found herself driving towards her house and suddenly felt like she couldn't get there fast enough. "Damn all these red lights!" she yelled, jerking against her seatbelt and pounding a fist on the steering wheel. The guy in the car stopped beside hers turned to give her a funny look. "What the hell are you staring at?" she mouthed back. He probably thought she was crazy. Maybe I am. At this point she didn't even care.
She quickly pulled into the driveway, almost taking out a potted plant in the process. As she made her way to the door, her hands shook and her fingers jumbled with the keys. Finally they settled on the right one. Barely remembering to lock the door, she threw her belongings on the couch and beelined for the bathroom. Along the way she shed her clothes piece by piece and they left a trail along the hallway, as if each one represented a moment from tonight she thought might have been better left behind.
Gillian's hands gripped the shower faucet and she turned on the water. Her body gave a shiver at the coldness until the temperature rose, and then she felt the steam start to rise around her. The water washed over her still body, and she let out a half-choked sob. Tears fell one by one down her cheeks. They mixed with the water and pooled at her feet before swirling around the drain, like she was being cleansed of all emotion.
His voice echoed in her mind and she began to argue with herself mentally.
But isn't this what you wanted? What you've been waiting for?
It is... I just wasn't expecting it now... wasn't expecting him…
Eventually the water started to run cold. Gillian was no longer crying, but her body felt numb and empty. She reached out for the towel hanging above the commode, and dried her wet hair before wrapping it around her body. Her throat felt dry, and now more than anything she thought she could use a drink.
Cal needed more than just a drink to make him forget about what had transpired.
How could I be such a bloody idiot? Why would a proper gal like Gillian ever let herself love a sodding bastard like me? All I'd be good for is pulling her down at every chance I got. Tarnishing everything she's worked so hard to build and maintain. You've done a right job mucking things up that not even forgiveness is in the cards for you this time, mate.
Forgiveness.Cal thought back to all the times he'd hurt Gillian in the past. Always seemingly unintentional on the surface, but deep down, it really wasn't. His risks, the decisions he made without consulting her, his openness about the women that kept his company and that he slept with... Half of him wanted her more than anything, while the other half wanted to protect Gillian from what he was. One side reached out; the other pushed her away. And yet she had always remained loyal- her goodness too much to bear. It gave him hope, while making Cal hate himself that much more.
He could tell over the past few years the hurt was becoming a burden for her. She couldn't hide it as easily anymore and would occasionally flare up in anger at him. But it was in those moments he could see love in her eyes shine underneath the anger and the tone of her voice. He pushed her buttons to get a glimpse of it; took higher risks. The forgiveness came, but not as readily. She wasn't the only one hurting and up until now it had been a never ending merry-go-round to see who would break first. He had broken, and this time he worried there would be no one there to pick up the pieces.
And so Cal took one swig after another, until the world around him was a blur and he passed out on the sofa.
Gillian nursed her drink and began trying to rationalize the situation. They weren't strangers to flirting or games of cat and mouse, but tonight had gone beyond that. They could both pretend like nothing had happened, but she knew in her heart that it wouldn't fool either of them. They'd start questioning each others motives. The tension between them would become so awkward that jokes could no longer slice through it. That it would poison the flower of their friendship and partnership until it slowly withered away.
So what are you going to do about it? she thought bitterly. This is the crossroad you've been inching closer towards for the past eight years. A ride you couldn't have abandoned from even if you'd tried. A ride that began the day Cal Lightman made his grand entrance into your office for counseling, and slowly set off towards its final destination the moment you agreed to get close and become his business partner.
After Claire had died in her arms, Cal had come over often to offer comfort and help her deal with the grief. The days, weeks, and months wore on, and with time the throbbing pain of her loss grew less intense. She was more or less returning to her usual self, and Gillian had been sure that it was then that they were almost at that point. But Cal had surprised her, and their growing closeness had had little effect on their daily interaction and on his behavior. There was still time to buy.
Or so you thought. She sighed again.
Cal's not going to openly acknowledge this again. Not after reaching out and being shot down. The ball is in your court. And knowing your friendship is never going to be the same either way, are you really prepared to throw everything away out of stubborn pride without a fight?
As scared as Gillian was, she knew the answer in her heart.
The comfort of having come to terms with the evening, mixed with the alcohol and all the energy she had expelled, left her feeling spent. Drowsiness was starting to take over, and the yawn that escaped her mouth was proof. It was time to call it a night and deal with everything else tomorrow. She exchanged her towel for a silky chemise and shorts, and crawled under the covers into bed.
The sun slowly made its way through Gillian's curtains. Her bedroom now basking in late morning sunlight, she rolled over to shield herself from its brightness and kept her eyes closed until her mind began to rouse from sleepiness. When her eyes opened, she took a good look around the room. She had slept so soundly it was like everything had been a dream.
It didn't take long before last night came over her again, and she hastily rose. Picking out a decent outfit, she arranged her hair and make-up quickly, took a few minutes to brush her teeth, and gave herself a once over in the mirror before heading out the front door. Gillian needed to get this over with before her courage deserted her.
Cal groaned, a splitting headache and a bad hangover the only things remaining from getting hammered the night before. He got up and sought out the nearest bottle of aspirin, chugging down more than the recommended dose with a glass of water. He grabbed a banana on his way back to the couch and slumped onto it as he peeled slowly, taking his time between bites. Cal tossed the peel on the table after he finished. Laying there another hour or so, he finally got up to inspect the damage.
He splashed cold water on his face and leaned against the mirror as he inspected himself. A right beauty I am. He turned away in disgust. At least the aspirin had kicked in and the throbbing in his head had but almost disappeared. It was then he heard the doorbell.
"Bloody hell, who is it?" Cal called out, as he made his way over and answered the door.
"Gillian," he spoke her name as he supported himself against the door's frame.
"Cal," she returned. She could see the remnants of whatever he had put himself through on the coffee table behind him.
"Is this a bad time?" she asked. "I can come back later."
"It's never a bad time with you, darling." Cal invited her in with a gesture.
"Sorry about the mess. You wouldn't believe it, but a damn tornado ran amok all through the place and knocked me clear out with it."
Gillian eyed the coffee table again and a turned her attention to a bottle of whiskey laying on its side. "And would that tornado happen to go by the name of Macallan?"
He scratched his chin. "You know, love, that might just be the one. A right cheeky bastard, that one is."
She couldn't suppress flashing a smile at his humor.
"Well then, try to ignore the clutter and have a sit," Cal quipped.
Gillian took a seat and Cal sat down beside her. She brought her head towards his shoulder, letting her head come to rest upon it. Cal wrapped an arm around her and they stayed like that for the next few minutes. Neither one of them spoke.
Gillian eventually opened her mouth. "I want to apologize for last night."
"S'alright. Nothing to apologize for," he replied as he gave her a slight squeeze.
"No, it's not alright." The words came out flat. Gillian pushed herself out of his embrace and sat up to face him.
"Did you mean it?" Not exactly what she had planned on saying, but the words tumbled out.
"Do you want me to answer that honestly?" His gaze hardened and he gritted his teeth a little. He wasn't in the mood for dealing with the prospect of emotions running high and looked for a way out.
"You already know the answer."
"I need you to say it." She pursed her lips together. You're not going to run this time.
"Christ, what is it you want to hear, Gillian? How I shouldn't have crossed that fucking line between us last night? That I know I don't deserve you? How I'm sick and tired of this game we're playing?" The tone of his voice rose with each question. He didn't know whether he was pissed off at Gillian, himself, or the situation. Probably himself, came the mental reply.
"It's not a game..." Her eyes pleaded with him.
"Oh really, it's not then? Well then what in the bloody hell do you call the last eight years, Gill?" he retorted.
"I'm scared, Cal."
"Well that's just bloody brilliant, Gillian." He couldn't stop himself.
She got up to leave. "You know, I shouldn't have come. When you've sorted yourself out and you're ready to have a grown up conversation about it, give me a call."
"Don't go." He grabbed her wrist and his expression softened. "Stay with me. Please."
"What is it that you want?" Gillian searched his face.
"I want you," came his reply. "All of you. And it's driving me bonkers."
Gillian froze, not knowing what to do. His eyes begged and reeled her back to his side. His words had hit their mark, but she couldn't formulate a serious reply and she deflected instead. "So what have you been waiting for? If I recall correctly, it's been more than two years since I went back on the market."
"Two years, five months, and sixteen days."
"Do I even have to tell you how creepy that is?" she laughed.
"Is it, love?" he put up a mock expression. "Well you know, I did give it a go last night. If I remember correctly you rejected me, I went home, and drank myself into a stupor before I fell asleep on this here sofa."
"I didn't mean to reject you, Cal. You just... surprised me."
"Always did have that knack," the words were delivered with another eyebrow waggle.
Gillian repositioned herself a little and looked straight at him.
"There," he circled his finger around her temple. "There's something you're not telling me."
It's now or never, Gillian thought.
"I love you..." she trailed off.
His breath hitched. "But..?"
"But... I don't want to throw away what we have now," she whispered. She averted her eyes so he couldn't get a complete read while he tried to recover himself.
"Don't worry about that, love. Look, I understand it perfectly. You're too good for me, Foster. You can't have me dragging you down."
Gillian lifted her head. "No, you did that a long time ago. I willingly accepted it," she admitted, her tone serious.
It was Cal's turn to be surprised. "So what is it then, love?" His reply was careful.
"It's not you, it's me." An over-simplified version, but there is was.
"Well that's a cliché if I ever heard one."
Gillian ignored him and continued. "I'm afraid of you seeing everything. That I can't give myself to you fully... I still need some space between us."
She gave a slight hesitation. "If we're going to do this, I need to know going in that it's going to last. That you're not going to wreck it. Because once we cross a certain point... I don't think I'll ever be the same."
Her confession left him speechless and he reached out to embrace her tightly. "Gill..." he breathed into her ear.
They sought comfort in each others touch and Gillian could hear Cal's heartbeat. Its quickness gradually slowed into an even pace. She let his smell wash over her and relaxed her body. At some point, Cal pushed them apart.
"I promise to do right by you, Gillian Foster."
The look he gave her made her want to have faith. "Where do we go from here?"
"Anywhere, as long as you'll have me."
"Then are you all in?"
"All in, darling."
"Good." A pause. "So does this whole thing... Does it include romance and flowers?" She raised one eyebrow at him.
"What you want flowers, love?" He returned her eyebrow.
"And romance." A wink.
"The trashy romance novel kind?" he made a fake grimace.
"I can't think of a better kind, can you?"
"Are you feeling a little hungry? I could really go for some beans on toast right about now..." Cal tried to change the subject.
"I'll take that as a yes, but no to the beans on toast."
"Curry, then?"
"Great. Do you need any help?"
"A man can always use something beautiful to look at while he works."
Gillian gave him a light punch on the shoulder.
"So right, then... curry it is."
Cal stood up and walked to the kitchen, and Gillian followed in his footsteps.