A/N: one more chapter after this one. Thanks for stickin with :)
Do you remember that time I came to you, and you were crying? I told you I wanted you so bad I could feel it in every bone of my body, and it hurt so much to think you didn't want me back. And then you told me you did want me back, that you felt the same ache in your bones. You cried harder, and I kissed you. I could taste your tears. I wanted to make them go away. You held on to me and asked me to make love to you. And we made love. You were still crying, but you told me it was because you were happy. You smiled afterward, as I was wiping the tears, and you did look happy. We were both happy afterward.
We stayed happy for a while, didn't we? Not all the time. Life takes its turns, you and I both know. But we were happy enough, or more than that, most of the time. We'd finally found that special balance with each other.
And then he came back, and it's all aching pain again. I can't pretend to know what you're feeling all the time, darling. Maybe you don't even know all the time. But I can guess pretty well what you're thinking, and I feel the tension building up. You don't want to bother me with the worry, but I'll worry all the same, so maybe you could open up to me. Every thought I have belongs to you now. I only breathe in your honor. You might think I only want to serve the needs of the company, or the needs of my little girl, but those are different stories. I want you to be a part of those stories, but right now you've been separated from them and I won't really be living until they're all back together again. Until we find that special balance.
"The worst part of it is I'm starting to feel what he must be feeling. That he had the most precious thing in the world and just...gave it away. She just slips through your fingers like sand, whether you hold on tight or not, do you know what I mean?"
Wallowski shook her head no. She did not know what he meant at all.
"If you think she's slipping away from you, you go out and you fight for her." she stated simply. She wondered what the hell was so difficult about that concept. Cal shook his head, dismissive, knowing she didn't get it.
"Why don't you go out and fight for her?" she asked.
"Because whatever happens, whatever she chooses, I'll know the truth." Cal said. He turned to look at her, one of the few times he'd done so during their long talk. They were at a bar, and Cal mostly stared at his scotch because he didn't need to read Wallowski's face. He didn't need to know how she reacted. He just needed someone to talk to.
"If it's guilt or loyalty that makes her stay with me instead of running off with him, I'll know the truth." Cal turned back to his drink, and continued to wallow in it. "Emily's going off to university soon and I'm going to be the loneliest man on earth."
"You're not the only person in this world with no one to keep them company." Wallowski informed him, not impressed.
"And I'm not the only one who's lost Gillian." Cal quipped. He thought of Alec a lot these days, and about the fact that he'd been able to stop worrying after a while. After a certain point he knew Gillian and Alec had stopped having sex, and that without children the end had been inevitable.
Dave was...different.
"We're the loves of each others lives. I know that, here." Cal pointed at Wallowski's chest, and for once it wasn't a lewd gesture meant to embarrass her. He was pointing at her heart, and in his buzzed state he meant it sincerely. "But if she decides to give it another go with him, in any shape or form...I don't know if the thing between us...if it'll ever be repaired."
Wallowski stared at Cal with narrowed eyes, squinting at him and wondering how a man could be so narcissistic. He kept staring into his drink like he could see his own reflection, like he wished it had ears so he didn't have to bother with human company.
"Why are you talking about this with me?" she asked him. "I thought we weren't friends anymore."
Cal laughed a little, grinning at the truth of that statement. The grin faded slowly, as his thoughts came back down.
"I'm talking to you because I know you'll tell me if I'm being a total wanker."
"You're being a total wanker." she said immediately, in her wry, American drawl.
Cal smacked his gums, lifting his drink to take another sip. "I knew I could count on you." he said, before downing the rest of his drink.
"I think you're both being stupid. You were stupid before you hooked up, and you're both being stupid now."
"You can call me stupid all you want but watch what you say about her." Cal said without any humor whatsoever. He had no patience left on the subject.
Wallowski scoffed, but she backed off. "You're kinda proving my point there." she muttered.
Cal didn't ask her what she meant by that.
Cal was still buzzed when he got home. He sat down on the couch, still staring into nothing. Dinner was not cooked, wine was not consumed, sex was not had and there was no warm snuggling to be done after it all. The house felt empty again, especially with Emily not at home.
Gillian walked into the living room from the kitchen, barefoot, in jeans, her shirt sleeves rolled up with no bra on underneath. She had a glass of wine in her hand and she smiled at Cal. He was sitting there on the couch, arms spread out over the back of it, smiling up at her as she approached. She stopped in front of him, and kept her eyes on him while she sipped - and then gulped - her wine. She licked her lips as she let the glass drop to her side. Then she smiled again. She adored him.
Cal grinned. "You're cute when you're tipsy."
Gillian chuckled. "So are you."
"I don't get tipsy." said Cal. Gillian narrowed her eyes at him. He lifted one of his hands from the back of the couch, just enough to gesture to her. "Come here, I'll show you."
"You'll show me how you don't get tipsy?" said Gillian, quite skeptical.
"Or I'll show you something else."
Gillian bit her lip as she grinned, and set her wine glass down on the coffee table as she chuckled. Then she mounted the couch on her knees, straddled his hips, took his face in her hands and-
"Dad?" Emily's soft voice poked him gently from across the room, stealing him from his memories. Cal seemed to wake up, as if from a dream, and he inhaled audibly as he lifted his head. Emily stood in the doorway, not yet committed to entering the room. "Where's Gillian?" she asked. She had no mischievous twinkle in her eye, only concern. Gillian should have been there already, and Cal had been late coming home. Emily could see that, slightly drunk or not, for the last two days he had not been himself.
"If I knew where she was," said Cal. "I'd be there."
Emily continued watching with furrowed brow and big, worried eyes. "Are you guys fighting again?" she asked.
"I don't know what we're doing, Em." Cal looked at her to make sure she knew he wasn't being snippy. "Honestly, I don't." he said, because it wasn't the typical lover's tiff, and his view of all possible outcomes ranged from fuzzy to being in complete denial.
Emily took a step into the room, just around the doorway, and leaned on the inside wall. "I know you don't want to talk about it." she said. "You've just been really quiet for the last few days. It makes me anxious."
Cal motioned for her to come sit next to him. Emily pushed away from the wall and sat next to her father, and she gave him a big hug and a much needed snuggle. She draped an arm over his stomach, rested her head on his chest, stared through the coffee table and worried some more. If Gillian were to leave, Cal would remain sad for a very, very long time.
The silence dragged on. They were comfortable, but Cal wondered if Emily didn't have somewhere else, somewhere happier to be.
"Sorry." said Cal. "Not very good company, am I?"
"You're fine." said Emily. "I just don't want you to be sad."
"Can't help it sometimes."
"I know. I know how much she means to you."
Cal smiled softly, and set his hand on the top of his daughter's head. "Do you?"
"Yup." said Emily. "I'm the one that made you say it, remember?"
"You little matchmaker, you."
"I don't think it counts as matchmaking if the two affected parties were already in love." Emily observed, tossing her philosophy out in the usual dry manner.
Cal squeezed Emily's shoulders, and kissed the top of her head for saying that. He squeezed so hard it almost hurt, but Emily didn't mind. Squeezing the love out, that's how she described it. Love just had to hurt sometimes if it was really going to count.
At eleven o'clock, Cal received a call on his cell phone. He answered right away. He had a special ringtone for her. He opened the line but for the life of him he couldn't think of what to say. So he sat on his couch feeling lost while Gillian waited for him to greet her.
Gillian waited a few seconds more. "Cal?" she asked, hoping.
"I miss you." was all he said.
On her end of the call, Gillian's eyes slipped shut, and she pressed her lips together to keep from falling apart.
"I love you." said Cal, when he didn't receive an answer.
"I love you too." said Gillian.
"Where are you right now?" Cal asked. "Or is it foolish of me to ask?"
"I'm at home. I'm at my apartment." Gillian corrected herself. "I just wanted you to know that I'm here alone. I thought it was important that you know that."
"You don't have to be alone, Gill." said Cal. "You want me to go over there, I'll do it."
"I just wanted you to know that I'm safe."
Adrift. That's how Cal felt. An entire sea around him, no land in sight. He didn't know which direction to start paddling, and even if he chose a direction, he would be paddling with his hands to nowhere.
"I'm sorry." said Gillian.
"What for?"
"For doing this to us. For shaking your faith in me."
Cal ran a hand over his face, straining against a sudden flare of anger. "I don't want to have this conversation over the phone, Gill."
She was quiet for a moment. Contemplating. "Neither do I." she said.
Shit, shit, he hadn't meant it that way. He didn't mean shut up, he just meant-
"Can you come over?" she spoke up, before Cal's brilliant mind could stumble any further. The sea rushed into his body, and it was relief. So much relief.
"Of course." he scolded her. "Of course I can."
He scolded her because he could hear in her voice the threat of tears. She was scared to call out to him. Scared of being rejected, the way he'd rejected her in the hallway at work.
Shit.
"I'll be right there." he reassured her.
'I'm sorry for shaking your faith in me.'
"Okay." she said, reassured.
I didn't mean it.
"I'm leaving now."
'I'm sorry for doing this to us.'
"Okay." her voice echoed. She was too exhausted to say anything else.
You didn't do anything to us, Gill. Just bad timing, is all.
God, he just didn't want to have this conversation over the phone. He needed to see her face. He needed to look into her eyes and make sure she felt every word he was going to say.
There's nothing wrong. He's just a visitor. A ghost passing by. We are what's real, here. We're the only ones that are real.