Brennan showed up at the door of Booth's office. "Ready for lunch?" He looked up at her with tears in his eyes. "Booth, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
Booth inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly, trying to recover his composure. "I got an email from Gordon-Gordon. He's been in culinary school in France these past 18 months...remember? So he's been out of the loop. Anyway, he sent me this email, and he asked why he hasn't heard anything from Sweets, and wanting to know if Sweets' book was going to be published."
Brennan sat down across from her husband. "Oh, no….Booth…."
"I know. How do I send an email that says, "'Sorry, Sweets was murdered while you've been away, and you missed it.' How do I do that? "
"Do you want me to write the email, Booth? Forward it to me, and I'll respond to it."
"No, he asked me….I'll reply. But that's not even the real problem, I guess….How much longer is Sweets' death gonna hurt like this? Am I ever gonna get over it? One minute I'm fine, and then something happens and it brings me to tears all over again.'
"Did you ever go see the grief counselor that was recommended by the FBI? I think that would help."
"I don't want to talk about what happened and answer a whole bunch of stupid questions with someone I barely know. They won't understand why I feel the way I feel. It's a waste of time."
"I think there's grief counseling through St. Mark's, too. Talk to Father Jim. He can give you some information."
"Yeah, maybe….I might ask him.."
"It wasn't your fault, Booth….."
"I know….and knowing that fact should help me get over it, but damn….it hurts so bad….."