Neal bought a bottle of wine on the way home to celebrate with Sara. To his surprise, he found the door was locked. He never locked it himself.
"Sara?" He knocked. "The door is locked."
"Uh, just one second," he heard from the inside. It took a few more seconds than that, but the door to his apartment opened, and there she was.
"Hey."
"Hey."
He held the wine bottle, ready to hand it over as he stepped inside. But then he saw her packed boxes.
"What's going on? Are you leaving?"
"The renovations on my apartment are far enough along that I can move back in."
"Doesn't mean you have to head out right this second." He stepped closer to her, but to his shock, she backed away, unwilling to be near him.
"Neal. I'm leaving. Done."
He frowned. The joy was replaced by angst.
"A few hours ago, we were fine. Now you're walking out? What happened?"
"Well, the inevitable happened, Neal," she said, with a voice that sounded flat. "I mean, we didn't think this was gonna last."
No, but from there, just cut it without a cause.
"I didn't know we were a fait accompli," he said, wanting to beg her to stay.
"Come on. This was fun..." She tried a smile. "But we're two very different people." She was uncomfortable, Neal realized. Not bored, not done, but uncomfortable. Why? They had never been uncomfortable with each other, not even when they actually spoke to each other the first time.
"Oh, come on, Sara, you've always known who I am."
She looked at him, nodding.
"Yeah, you're right."
"Okay." Neal glanced over her shoulder to the table where his laptop was. He was pretty certain it had been moved. The pile of books was not in the same arrangement. He glanced at her. How could she have seen it? But it would explain her reaction.
"I guess you figured out everything I have to offer," he said. She did not reply to that. "We could be good together."
She sighed as if she wanted to cry.
"I know," she whispered. "Neal, you live in the clouds. And I live on West 69th."
"I never promised you anything else."
"I know." She moved to her boxes.
So she was leaving. Just like that. Because of the treasure? It was hard to tell. But she had seen or heard something that reminded her who he was. He maybe lived in the clouds, but she sure had since her landing was so hard.
"Well, you found your way out."
"I'll figure out the rest of my things."
"Yeah."
She stopped on her way out, watching him.
"Caffrey, please take care of yourself." She leaned forward and kissed him, but he did not feel like it, and she moved away. Her footsteps walked down the stairs and out of his life.
He put the wine bottle on the table and pushed the books on the laptop away. But halted before he opened the lid. What would he see? The computer logged out when the lid was closed. He would not see if she had seen the treasure or not.
"Good morning, Neal," Peter greeted his pet convict and handed him a cup of coffee to take to the van. The kid was not a fan of the van, but this morning, he seemed distant. He did not comment on the waiting van at all. "What's the matter?"
"Sara left me last night."
"Sara left you?"
"Yeah."
"Quarrel?"
"Nope."
He glanced at the kid. What had happened between the two of them? They seemed fine yesterday. And they had caught her bad guy, too.
"She walked out, just like that?" he asked.
"Just like that."
"Was it, uh..."
"Mutual?" Neal filled in. "No."
"What did she say?"
"That we're different people."
"Well, of course you're different!" Peter said. That was no excuse for leaving. "That's what makes life interesting. What's next?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing? Just let her go?" Considering how he had fought for Kate, he did not see it coming that the kid would just let Sara go.
"It's not like we were star-crossed, all right? It's over."
"For good?"
"For the best."
"Okay, whatever you say." They had reached the van, and Peter opened the door and walked in to Jones and Diana, who had had the night shift. "Morning, sunshines. Any movement from our suspect?"
"Walked his dog," Jones said. "Twice."
"What's that smell?" the kid asked behind him.
"Tuna sandwich," Jones replied. "This half is up for grabs."
"Pass."
"Why'd you bring Caffrey?" Diana asked.
"I brought him for his expertise and his company."
"He likes to poke me with sticks," the kid said.
"I do."
"Hey, why don't you head out?" Diana said to Jones. "I can catch up Peter."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. You've got that look like you're dying to get out of the van."
"You have no idea."
"You're welcome."
"Thank you. Gonna grab me a cab and get home."
Jones left the van. Diana talked him through the events of the night. Or rather, the lack of them. She left, and Peter and Neal took their seats.
Peter had a nagging feeling there was more to the story between Neal and Sara, but he did not want to pry. Well, he did, to help the kid to sort things out. He had after all a long and successful marriage behind him as proof that he must have done something right.
"If she didn't tell you, maybe I can ask her," Peter said and felt at once how clumsy he was.
"I'm sorry I disappointed you by not settling down with her," Neal said, sharp as a knife.
"I'm not disappointed. Well, I… It would've made my life much easier, but do you find it so hard to believe that I want you to be happy?"
"No. I believe you. But your idea of how I'll be happy may not be the same as what I want."
Peter looked at the kid. The coffee was still untouched. He sighed. He just had to let it go. Neal's love life was not his puzzle to solve.