It was the next morning before Rossi finally got around to asking the question that had been bothering him – had in fact been bothering the entire team.
"Why did you run?" he asked as they walked in the courtyard after breakfast.
Christine closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Dave, I have been asking myself that question for the past three years," she confessed. "Initially, I think it was just a reflex. I had finally gotten out of there and I just wanted to keep going. Kind of like a wounded animal, seeking shelter."
She sank down onto on of the courtyard benches before continuing thoughtfully. "However, I realize now that I was running away from everyone who knew me. I was embarrassed, humiliated, and ashamed about what had happened, and about the fact that I was pregnant, and about how I looked. It sounds self-centered now, I know, but that's the best explanation I can come up with."
"You had spent over four months being absolutely terrified 24/7, and you were in shock," Rossi reminded her. "It wouldn't surprise me if you were suffering from PTSD."
"I suspect you're right about that," Christine replied. "That's a fairly recent diagnosis which, from what I can find out, includes several conditions that previously had their own nomenclatures. It's hard for me to do any research out here but, from what I can tell, many of my symptoms do seem to fit – I have panic attacks and there are times when I can't think clearly. I can't deal with crowds and loud, sudden, noises send me running in terror. As long as I stay here, at The Yoga Center, I don't have to deal any of those stressors."
"You do realize that what happened to you wasn't your fault, don't you?" Rossi was anxious that she understand that fact.
"I do now," Christine confessed sadly. "And, that's also part of the reason I've stayed away. There is a fine line between understanding and pity, and I don't need pity."
Rossi nodded thoughtfully . "I think I can see how you would have trouble dealing with all that," he commiserated. "You always were one to stand on your own two feet."
"Also," Christine hesitated before continuing. "There is Spencer. He has spent his entire life dealing with his mother and her mental problems. He doesn't need to worry about me, too. And, the twins deserve a decent childhood, not one plagued by a mother suffering from mental illness. Spencer managed to survive intact but they might not. I can't risk that!"
"You might be underestimating Reid," Rossi pointed out. "He's tougher than he seems. Think about it. How are you doing now?"
"I've accepted the fact that I'll never be the person I was before, and I'm working on accepting the person I am now."
That afternoon, after Rossi had reluctantly packed up his belongings, Christine walked with him out to his car.
"I've really enjoyed seeing you again, Dave," she told him.
Rossi took a picture out of his inner jacket pocket. "You never asked about them," he said as he handed it to her. "They are great kids."
"I abandoned them," Christine looked him in the eye. "I don't deserve them. As I said, they deserve a decent childhood, not one haunted by an ill mother. And, Dave, please, don't tell Spencer where I am. He has undoubtedly built himself some idealized version of his children's mother, and I don't want to destroy that."
"I won't tell him," Rossi promised. "But, just in case," he pressed the picture into her hand. "On the Saturdays when we are in town, Reid and JJ take the kids to the playground by their homes. I know you remember it, you and Reid met JJ and Henry there on several occasions.
Rossi gave Christine a hug and a kiss on the forehead. Then, he got into his car and drove off, leaving her standing in the parking lot, holding the picture and staring forlornly after him.