The elevator doors seemed to inch open as his eyes fell upon the closed door. He could only imagine she wouldn't be especially happy to see him. When he'd tried to call her the night before, she'd refused his calls, sending him directly to voice mail or answering only to immediately hang up. His texts went also went unanswered. She was doing everything in her power to show him she had no interest in seeing or talking to him and yet he was here … at her door. Some would call it a masochistic move, but he was far more worried about her feelings than his own.
He took a deep breath and let his fist knock on the door. He waited, leaning in as he heard her footsteps coming closer.
"Did you forget …" She stopped immediately when she saw him. One look at her face and it was clear he was not who she'd been expecting to see. "What are you doing here?"
"I need to talk to you." He wanted to ask her who she'd been expecting, but there were more important things to talk about right now. "Can I come in?"
The events of last night flashed through her mind again. She needed time to think, time to process or, at the very least, time to shower. The sight of him made her heart flutter and there was a part of her that wanted to forget everything and let him in. Maybe they could work things out. Maybe it would all be okay. But another part, a larger part was struck by how normal he seemed – as if nothing had happened, as if he had every right to be there. What happened last night and the way she felt this morning wouldn't even be an issue if she hadn't watched him sitting at a poker table last night. If he'd been here, standing at her door last night, asking her to come in so they could talk, she would have woke up this morning with him and not with …. She shook her head, banishing the guilt-filled thoughts. "No," she spat, renewed anger rising inside of her. "No, you can't come in."
And there it was. The anger he'd fully expected he'd encounter. "Phyllis. Please. It's important. I really need to talk to you."
"Now you do." Her tone was curt as she glared at him. "Why? Because there aren't any early morning poker games to play? You can fit me in for a conversation now?" She saw the look in his eyes and used his momentary loss of words to continue her verbal assault. "That's right," she said quickly. "I came to talk last night and I found you at the GCAC. You weren't exactly worried about having this important conversation last night, were you?"
His head fell down to rest on his own chest in shame. "I …" He couldn't look her in the eyes as he tried to force his gaze to meet her face.
"So I guess it isn't all that important, is it?" She turned, pushing the door to close. She felt the resistance and looked down, now seeing his foot in the way. "Move," she demanded.
"This isn't about me," he said flatly. "You can hate me all you want, but I need to tell you this. I was at the club this morning and I ran into Mariah. She'd just gotten a phone call about Hillary and there was an accident."
Her reaction was immediate and he felt the resistance on the door fall away. "What kind of accident?"
"I don't know all the details, but apparently she's in critical condition and I know the two of you are …."
"I have to go." She rushed from the door, not even stopping to look back at him before nearly running up the stairs.
"Phyllis. Phyllis, wait." He watched as she disappeared upstairs. His body sank down onto the sofa as he let out a dejected sigh.
She scanned the waiting area quickly, searching for someone she recognized. "Neil." She said his name softly as she approached, hoping not to startle him. The look in his eyes as he turned around to face her made her heart fall. "I just heard," she managed. "How is she?"
He shook his head. "We're still waiting on the doctors to give us an update but based on what they've said so far, it's still pretty touch and go." He gestured towards the double doors that led into the ICU. "Devon is with her right now."
Phyllis shook her head. "That's good." She hated to ask the question, already fearing she knew the answer. "What about the baby?"
Neil's eyes darkened. He dropped his head, shaking it again in lieu of a verbal response.
"Oh God," she whispered. She saw Neil's eyes raise to look behind her and she turned, her own eyes narrowing in confusion. "What are you doing here, Billy?"
"Look, I know you told me not to come. I know you said you didn't want me here, but I needed to make sure you got here okay. You were so upset when you blew out of the apartment. I didn't want you driving like that and I just wanted to make sure that …" He looked around the waiting room, the tortured faces of those that waited for news of their loved one's status making his throat thicken with emotion. "I didn't want anything to happen to you. It can happen so fast, you know. I didn't want to end up here. If anything ever …" His voice broke at the thought and he looked at her for a long moment before speaking again. "I wouldn't be able to handle it."
"You can't just do that." She pushed him back slightly, moving away from Neil. "You don't get to come here and try and play this situation so that I just forget everything you did … all the lies and …"
"That's not what I'm doing. That's not why I came here. I know you're angry with me and you have every right to be, but this … isn't this more important than that? She's your best friend, Phyllis and she's fighting for her life. You shouldn't have to go through that alone – not when I'm here, not when I want to be here for you. You don't have to forgive me to let me help you."
Even though she hadn't been able to ask Neil all the questions she had, his expression had told her far more than his words ever could. There was a very real chance Hillary wouldn't be leaving this hospital room. She could be here to say goodbye. Her eyes found his again. "I guess not," she said softly, "But this doesn't change the way I feel … it doesn't change how much you hurt …" Tears stung at her eyes as the lump in her throat chocked her voice out.
"It doesn't have to," he relented. "Just let me help you." He stepped closer to her. "Let me hold you."
She hesitated. She wanted to be angry, to be willful, to be strong, to be stubborn, but right now, in this moment … more than anything, she wanted to be held. His arms wrapped around her tightly as she finally allowed a lone tear to fall.
