Disclaimer: All stories are individuals of themselves and are unrelated to each other.

Madge had never seen Gale this way before.

He sat on her couch with his head in his hands, tugging on his hair and keeping his eyes on the ground. She'd poured him a glass of whiskey earlier and he knocked it back, requesting another almost immediately. Three cups later he hadn't said a word, his chest still too tight and his eyes too heavy.

"Gale?" Madge tried. He shook his head. "Want me to pull out the bed for you?" He let out a sad laugh and shook his head again, slowly lifting his head from his hands to look at her. Gale's eyes were bloodshot, he looked as though he'd been through the ringer and barely survived. Madge moved from her spot on the chair across from him to the spot beside him. "Hey, it'll be okay," she told him as she rested her hand on his shoulder.

Still he shook his head, not knowing what to say or what to do.

He should be at his house, honestly. He shouldn't have been the one to leave when he found out, his wife should've packed her bags and gone. But he was too frustrated to even wait for her to gather her things and left on his own accord. Besides, staying in his own home, sleeping in his own bed that he once shared with the woman he loved, would hurt too much at this point. He didn't know why Madge was the first person to come to mind when he'd found out, but she was, and she offered her apartment for the night.

"What a fucking joke," he muttered, laughing that sad laugh again. Madge's eyebrows furrowed together wishing she could absorb some of his pain.

She and Gale weren't entirely close but they have been working together for the past few years. They've had a push and pull sort of relationship, teasing and playful though neither of them ever acted on anything. She knew he was married and never wanted to intrude and though he was a flirt at times Gale never overstepped his boundaries. Their cubicles were next to one another and they often had lunch at the same time.

"Gale," she tried again. "You need some sleep."

"I can't," he shook his head. "I can't. I can't." He turned to look at her and she felt her heart shattering. "I can't sleep," he croaked. "I don't know what to do, Madge."

"You don't have to make any decisions tonight," she reminded him.

"No, I know what I'm—" Gale sighed loudly and pulled away from her. "I'm leaving her. I know that. I just don't know…" The liquor had loosened his lips. Though they were easy friends they hardly spoke about anything other than work or the weather or politics. "She was fucking her fucking professor," he groaned, dropping his head into his hands again and returning to pulling at his hair. Madge ran her hand up and down his back gently. Gale's wife had gone back to school to get her masters and had mostly been taking night classes. She started getting home later and later, even though it was already late. "I think I knew for a while," he admitted, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. "But I didn't want to believe it."

"I know," Madge whispered.

"Who am I now?" he wondered, lifting his head. "Without her?"

"You're still Gale Hawthorne."

"I'll be divorced," he said. "Single. Alone."

"No, no, that's not true. Those are just words, Gale." She reached forward and grabbed his hand tightly and he turned to look at her again, his hazy eyes finding hers. "You're so determined," she told him strongly. "Optimistic, insightful. You always look for ideas where no one else would. You have such good friends, a loving family. You're smart. Kind."

"Not good enough for my own fucking wife," he interrupted, squeezing his eyes together again.

"No," Madge grabbed his face between her hands and jerked his head, forcing him to look at her. His eyes opened at the intensity of her voice. "You can't do this to yourself, Gale!" His eyes searched her face, studying her lips, her eyelashes, her freckles. "You cannot let this tear you down. You are resilient." He started to tip his head to the side but she stops him, "Yes." Madge lifted his face again, her thumbs lightly caressing his cheeks. "And I know, I know it hurts." How could it not? "But you are going to get through this. And you are going to find someone who isn't going to take you for granted. Someone who loves you. Someone who isnever going tomake you feel like this."

He pulled his eyes from her mouth and murmured, "How do you know?"

They were dangerously close, Madge realized suddenly. And he was fragile. Very fragile. She slowly lowered her hands from her face and lifted her shoulders, "You're a catch. Who wouldn't fall in love with you?"

Gale let out a short breath and eased away from her, finding something in her eyes that made him feel a lightness that wasn't there before. He turned to look away, squashing any feelings of hope that were building inside of him. It was too soon to think about a future, too soon to see a better life. He didn't deserve that. His own wife had been having an affair, how could he imagine a time when someone would love him? Someone like Madge…

He lifted his hand and rubbed at his forehead before scrubbing the scruff on his chin.

"You're right," he said. "I need sleep.

Madge nodded and stood, offering her hand to him as well so he could stand and she could pull out the bed for him. It took him a minute to get on his feet, the world slightly off kilter, but eventually he regained his balance. Gale moved over to the chair Madge had been sitting in earlier and dropped back down, watching as she patiently pulled out the sheets and blankets to make up his bed. When she was finished he forced himself to the bed, his body feeling heavier than usual and his mind clogged with memories of his wife.

Before he knew what was happening he felt a blanket settling on top of him. He caught sight of Madge as she walked away, flicking the switch on the wall to plunge them into darkness.

With Madge the last image in his mind he slipped into a slumber, hoping things would be better in the morning.