A/N: We all knew this was coming, unfortunately. And while I completely disagree with the way the writers handled this (I don't think it's in their characters to get divorced) I wanted to stay true to the story. Bare with me, there's light at the end of the tunnel. Also, thanks for the comments on the previous chapter! I was afraid it would be met with poor review because of the period in their relationship, but we all knew this was coming :(

Anyway, here's #59:

"Sara. Call me when you can. We uh—We need to talk." She listened the voicemail again, detecting the inflection of his voice. Her stomach dropped. She knew if she called him he'd say something she didn't want to hear, or didn't want to discuss. It was easier just to keep ignoring his calls for now.

D.B. and Sara stood in the reporters home.

"Maybe it's in the bedroom? I know when I take work home it often ends up there."

"Yeah, you're not single, you're married."

"Yeah." He could here the slight hesitation of her voice as she spoke, "But um, my place often looks a lot like this." Like she's single. Was the subtext there. She smiled sadly, something not lost on D.B.

She and D.B. had become close since he'd joined the team. He reminded her a lot of Dave. They were even the same age, and looked similar with thick white hair. He actually knew Dave, strangely enough. The two had worked a case together a few years back when a serial killer had jumped the boarder from San Fransisco to Seattle. She and D.B. shared a subtle understanding of one another. Childhoods similar in a sense that they were moved around a lot, both obsessed with the details. He was a little goofy, just like Dave. She liked that.

Sara silenced her ringing phone again as she stood in the layout room. Finn looked over to see the screen.

"Have you talked to him since the NTSB guy?"

"Nothing happened with NTSB."

"How come you can't pick up the phone?"

"Because... I feel like when I do, I'm going to be very sad when I hang up."

"How do you now?" She pried softly.

"Because he wants to talk."

Sara sat on D.B.'s couch, filling him on on her and Finn's findings. Linking the fire case to their murder vic. She looked down at her hands when the conversation had come to a close. D.B. took in her appearance.

"Hey, Sara. Let me ask you something," He knew to tread lightly here, knowing Sara wasn't one to talk about herself, her feelings, what was really going on. But he knew he needed to try, "How you doing? You alright?"

"I'm fine." Her defensive walls shot up quickly.

"You just seemed a little down when we were at the Vic's place."

"Oh, um—I don't know. Woman married to her career without much to show for it." She shrugged sadly, "It's a little depressing."

"I don't mean to pry, but—"

"Pause right there."

"I know, I know, I'm your boss. Separation of church an state but—"

"No, hit pause." Sara pointed to the video he'd been watching of the newscast. The topic was dropped as Sara showed D.B. what she'd seen on the screen.

Later on, when they'd caught a moment alone together once more, D.B. Tried again.

"What's going on Sara?" His eyes were soft, filled with concern. Anyone else looking at her like that would make her angry, force her to build up walls—even with Grissom. She hated being pitted, or seen as weak. But there was something about D.B. maybe they way he reminded her of Dave, that caused her to let her guard down. "Is everything okay with you and Gil?"

Gil. Perhaps it was because he'd never met Grissom. Didn't hold him to the same unbelievably high standard as everyone else in the lab, that made it easier to talk to him about this.

"He wants to talk."

"I see." D.B. took a breath. "And you don't?"

"I have a bad feeling about what he want's to talk about. And—" Her voice cracked slightly, "I'm not sure I'm ready to hear it."

"Long distance relationship are hard. My wife and I had to do it for a while, you know that." Sara nodded, trying her best to will away the tears that were threatening to form, "Without an expiration date on the distance, they're even harder." She nodded again, but stayed silent, "Sometimes love isn't enough—sometimes it is. But eventually, someone's got to step up and make the decision." He paused a moment, letting her take in his words, "Either way, dodging the calls may feel good for now, knowing you're avoiding what's to come, but eventually it just makes it all that much worse."

He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, "Hang in there Sar—you never know what he may say until you hear him out."

Later that night when the case was closed she and D.B. stood in his office once more. Her phone ringing again, his name on the ID again. He looked and her, giving her silent encouragement and left his office, closing the door behind him to give her some privacy.

"Hello." Her voice was soft and crackled as she bit back tears that were already threatening to fall.

"You've been hard to get a hold of." Grissom's voice was just as soft, almost relaxed but not quite. She swallowed hard.

"Yeah. Um, I'm so sorry." She looked around the room she stood in, his old office. The office where she'd escaped to so many times for a quick moment alone together, the office where their relationship budded, took form. The office that was once filled with his quirky hobbies and experiments. "How are you?"

"I'm okay." His voice seemed resigned, it terrified her, "Is um, now a good time?"

She nodded, but quickly realizing he couldn't see her she finally spoke, "Yeah." Her voice was already betraying her, cracking.

"You seem sad."

"I have a feeling I know what you're about to say."

She could hear him breathe on the other side, softly, not expelling. "I see." There was an eerie silence between them now. She waited patiently for him to continue and eventually he did, "I think it's for the best."

He wasn't going to spell it out for her, not unless she forced him to—She knew that. But the subtext to his words caused a tear to streak down her face. Her chest tightened.

"I don't want to live my life without you, Gil." The truth in her sentiment shocked even her. He sighed sadly,

"But this isn't working."

He was right, she knew that, again. But it still hurt all the same. His voice was small but not hesitant. Like he'd rehearsed this in his head—god knows she gave him enough time to do just that, with the days of dodged calls.

He continued, "If there's something we could have done to change it, I think we would have by now."

He heard a small sob on the other end of the phone and it broke his heart.

"I wish we didn't have to do this over the phone." This admission surprised even him, he was trying to be strong for Sara but it was proving difficult when all he wanted to do was hold her, tell her it would be alright.

"Gil..." His voice trailed off her lips in a heartbreaking crackle, pleadingly.

"I think this is best for you."

"What does that mean?" She croaked.

He paused for a long while before he spoke, trying his best to choose the right words, "You deserve to be happy. To find someone who will be in Vegas with you, someone your age maybe, someone who can be there for you."

"I just want you. You make me happy." She admitted.

"Not anymore I don't." Admitting this out loud caused him pain, but he knew he needed to do this for her.

"So you're just giving up?"

"Do you trust me?"

"You know I do."

"Then trust that I have your best interest at heart here." This made her sadness turn to anger instantly.

"Fine." She said almost child-like, her anger taking control. "Fine." She repeated.

"Sara..." Her name danced off his tongue.

"Yeah?" But no reply came. Just like the countless number of times that exchange has gone on before. She finally spoke to fill the silence. Her voice sad again, weak and hoarse with tears, "Do what you need to do, Gil."

"I love you." He whispered. But no reply came and he quickly realized she'd hung up the phone.

Sara took the next week off of work at D.B.'s urging. "You look like you could use the time off." He had said, not wanting to pry too much on what had happened in her call with Grissom. He'd hoped she'd take the time to go see him.

She had agreed hesitantly but knew that she needed the time to grieve. So she did what most women do when their marriages end, she ran home to her family.

"Sara?" Susan opened the door to see Sara standing there. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen from crying, dark circles around them. She looked tired and a little lost. "Come in." Susan quickly ushered a stoic Sara in and sat her down on the couch. She left momentarily and returned with a cup of hot tea, placing it in Sara's hands.

"Thank you. I'm sorry I didn't call. I didn't really know I was coming until I was already here."

"What's wrong Sara?"

She cleared her through, "Gil and I." She braced herself to say the words she had yet to speak aloud, "We're getting divorced."

"Oh, honey." Susan wrapped Sara in a tight hug as she let herself cry for the first time since she'd had that conversation with Gil two days prior.

"I just, I can't be in my house right now."

"You'll stay here as long as you want." She nodded against Susan.

"Thank you." She spoke smally.

She spent the week there in San Fransisco, feeling comforted by Susan and Dave's presence in her life. Feeling free to reel in the pain of the loss. When she got back to Vegas the papers were at her door—she realized Grissom must have drafted them long before they'd had that conversation. Sara grabbed a beer from the fridge and skimmed over them.

Within the confines of these words, nothing was about to change. They had never merged their bank accounts, so finances stay the same. She'd never changed her name so she was still Sara Sidle. He'd given her the house in Vegas, he really had no use for it. And that was it. According to the paper her life wouldn't change at all. But it was a black and white lie. It was about to change forever and she wasn't sure if the dull ache in her heart would ever fade. She took out a piece of paper and wrote a note to Grissom to enclose within the documents:

Gil,

I hope you find what you're looking for.

-S.S.

The initials were purposeful. While she'd never changed her name, she'd signed every letter or text correspondence between the two since getting married as S.G. She closed the letter in the manilla envelope and mailed it out.

She looked around her home. Evidence of their life together was everywhere, in the photos, the souvenirs they'd brought back from South America, from France. His clothing still in the drawers and in the closet. But she couldn't bring herself to rid any of it. The one thing she did do, though, was take down the photo of them that hung on the refrigerator. The one of them in 1999 in front of the Golden Gate Bridge. The one with her hand writing scribbled on the back, her phone number and email address from 12 years ago.

She placed the photo in a drawer in the living room. That was the one photo she knew she wouldn't be able to handle seeing every day. The others could stay, for now. But that photo was too much. It was almost haunting, thinking about the juxtaposition of she and Gil in 1999 versus 2012.

Weeks passed, then months. The dull ache in her heart hadn't disappeared like she'd hoped. Her thoughts were consumed with memories of him, their life together, the home they'd built. Her dreams too. So much so that she couldn't sleep any more. The pain of waking up to find him still gone was too much to bare. She'd gotten in the habit of taking sleeping pills to help her. She'd had some left over from when they were prescribed after the Natalie Davis incident.

Soon she ran out though, forcing her to see a doctor to get a refill. Which she did.

She worked more overtime in the last month than she had in all the years since she'd come back to Vegas from France. She returned to a version of herself form the early 2000's, where work was all she had in her life. She was sad. There was no denying that. It felt like an endless rain cloud hovered over her at all times. But she needed to put on a brave face, fool her colleagues into thinking she was fine. The last thing she wanted to do was to talk about it with them. To feel their pity, or perhaps their rueful comments taking Grissom's side in the divorce.

September 2012

Sara sat in the resturant at the table alone. Grissom had made these reservations for the two of them months ago—long before he'd initiated the divorce. A nice resturant, a bottle of wine, a room upstairs. She woke up that morning on her birthday feeling sadder than she had the previous days. She'd looked forward to this day for months. Not because it was her birthday, but because he'd be back in Vegas to celebrate with her. She'd still taken the day off though. It was already on the schedule and she didn't want to explain to anyone why she'd be at work on her birthday. They all knew Grissom typically came to town then.

7 p.m. rolled around and Sara found herself getting dressed up to go to dinner. Now here she was, sitting at the table alone, sadly looking at a large party of people to her left, fawning over a girl whose birthday was obviously today too. She felt foolish as she sat there, drinking her wine alone. Foolish that a part of her actually thought Grissom would show up.

The waitress interrupted her thoughts as she placed a small cake with a single candle in it in front of Sara.

"What's this?" Sara looked up at her. While part of her wanted to think it was Grissom, she knew it was not. He hadn't made the mistake of birthday cake and candles since early on in their relationship.

"I uh, took a total shot in the dark." She looked up to see Tyler Wynard standing there. A smile pulled at her lips. "Please tell me I'm right?"

"Um, yeah actually—you are."

"Well in that case, happy birthday." He flashed her a big grin. Tyler was attractive, well put together, stylish man. She'd met him two weeks earlier, drunkenly made out but it stopped there. She wasn't ready to let go of Gil yet. Even kissing another man felt strange, wrong. But also good. It confused her.

"How'd you know?"

"You seem to be celebrating. And I noticed how you keep watching that party over there."

"God, it's that obvious hu?" Sara looked down slightly embarrassed. "Two forks." Sara handed him one, inviting him to sit down with her.

"Of course. Can't eat birthday cake alone."

"Well, I guess I should blow out the candle, hu?"

"Unless you want me to sing?"

"No, no. Please."

She looked down at the cake and contemplated making a birthday wish for the first time in 28 years. She stared at the dancing flame just a moment longer before leaning in and closing her eyes. It wasn't so much as a wish, she realized after blowing out the candle and watching the smoke rise. It was more of a gesture to the universe. Gil. She let his name sound out in her head an pictured him in her mind as she blew out the candle. She wasn't sure if she was wishing he'd come there now, come back eventually, or if she'd wish for the pain to go away.

"I hope your wish comes true." Tyler spoke, taking Sara away from the image of Gil in her mind.

"Thank you." She smiled back.

The two shared another bottle of red wine and made easy conversation. For the first time in over 12 years, she thought she could actually have feelings for someone other than Grissom. Elementary feelings, sure—but feelings nonetheless.

They stood together in the elevator now.

"This is you, 12." Tyler moved to hold the elevator door open for her but she didn't move.

"Suddenly being alone in my hotel room, doesn't sound like that much fun."

He smiled and let the door close.

In his hotel room the two sat together drinking another bottle or red wine. Laughing, making fun conversation, keeping things light. They enjoyed each others company for about an hour or so when she got a text at 11 p.m.

She looked down at her phone:

I hope you had a wonderful day. Happy Birthday. -G

She had spent most of her day wondering if he'd remembered it was her birthday. Wondering if he'd call. When the night started to windle and she realized he wouldn't been calling, she had decided it was for the best. But now, seeing this text, only an hour from the end of her birthday, somehow made it all worse.

Tyler sensed a change in her mood.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah—yea. I um, I'm sorry. I think I should go."

"Are you sure? Everything's alright?"

"Yeah, you know—To be honest I actually just got out of a—" It was a 7 year relationship to be factual, but it felt like 12 years. She'd thought of no one but him for 12 years she suddenly realized. She'd longed for no one else, sought no one else, fantasized about no one else for 12 years. He was the only one she'd ever remember wanting like that. And she'd had him. And now... now he was gone and those 12 years were a hard memory to swallow. "...a 12 year relationship. And I just don't think I'm ready to let go yet."

"Doesn't have to be anything serious." Tyler moved toward her and began to kiss her lips softly. She let him at first, It felt good. But then she moved away.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head, "I can't."

"Okay." He was the perfect gentleman. He walked to the door and opened it for her. "When you're done with this other guy, maybe you'll give me a call."

She smiled as she walked past him. "Yeah, maybe I will."