"You better get that."
He looked at her and a part of him knew he shouldn't walk away just yet. He knew he should have stayed and made sure she was okay, made sure they were okay. But he couldn't.
The other part of him was relieved that the door bell had chimed. It was an excuse to walk away, to put a pause on this conversation for now. He couldn't stand there, and watch her fight against the despair he knew he was responsible for. He cared for her too much to let her fall apart now.
So he heeded her suggestion, and made his way to the front door. She needed her space, and he needed the excuse to walk away.
For a moment, nothing made sense. She heard herself speak, heard herself give him an excuse to leave her standing there. And she knew she felt him brush past her, anxious to move away from the hurt she knew must be radiating from her.
Words were coming from the other room. Greetings, conversations, she could hear it all happening but her body would not move from where she had positioned herself against the counter. Her mind and body were in a flux, one wanting to go find Tony and force him to hash it out with her, the other wishing the ground would open up and just swallow her into an abyss. Fight or flight was having a showdown internally now, and all Angela could do was stay in place and wait for her heart to make its final decision. Finally logic took over, she couldn't hide in the kitchen forever. An escape was needed and eventually her feet began making their way to her office.
There she could finally give in and fall apart if that's what she needed to do. Behind the heavy door surrounded by everything that was hers and hers alone. She just needed to get there.
Her footsteps faltered slightly as the voices became louder and her ears naturally picked up on the familiar timbre of the man who was causing her current state of panic. But panic would not stop her escape.She flipped her hair and continued the trek, hoping she appeared confident and nonchalant to anyone who had seen her exit from the kitchen and make the 50 steps to her sanctuary door. She hoped that they didn't notice how her hands were tightly clenched into fists and her eyes could not and would not leave the floor. She hoped she appeared nonplussed. But inside she was screaming.
He saw her leave the kitchen, saw her flip her hair back, trying to remain stoic, but then immediately cast her eyes to the ground. He watched her fists clench involuntarily, turning her knuckles a paler shade of white. He noticed how her footsteps, usually so sure and so purposeful, seemed to take wider quicker strides as they headed toward her office door, almost on the brink of a run.
He knew what she was trying to do. He knew she needed to shut herself in so she could build herself back up.She needed a place to gather her emotions and center herself before she could confront him again. He knew he had to talk to her, and it had to be soon. If he waited too long, she would build a wall around herself and he would not be able to reach her, the real her. He knew that he had to get rid of the study group and talk to Angela. He had to do it now.
But instead he just stood there and watched her close herself inside her office. He heard the door latch shut and he swore he could hear a small sob escape her lips before it shut completely. Logically he knew that was impossible, if she had cried out, someone else would have reacted. But no one did. They all remained engrossed in their own private conversations, blissfully unaware that two people's lives were completely imploding around them.
As soon as the door clicked and shut behind her, she turned and pressed her face against the wood, allowing the sob she'd been holding in to escape. It sounded deafening to her ears and she immediately tried to swallow the sounds back down. She needed to be strong. More for her own self satisfaction than anything else. She couldn't let anyone hear the pain she was feeling. She turned so her back was to the door, muffled her cries with her hand and slid down to the floor. She had to grieve now,where no one could see and hope no one could hear. This was her space, her own private solitude.
The tears came faster now, pouring down her face unchecked and she just let them fall. Her breath quickened and for a few moments she thought she would hyperventilate.
"Breathe Angela. Just breathe." It became a mantra in her head. She repeated it over and over, trying to calm her nerves and steady her breathing. Trying to focus on the knowledge that she couldn't stay pressed up against the door like she was. That was weak and she was not weak. Besides, her back and chest were starting to ache from the sobbing and her stomach was in knots, threatening to extricate itself of the little bit of lunch she'd had several hours earlier.
"Breathe." she repeated again. Eventually her tears began to slow. She knew it was momentary, that it was inevitable they would return again. But for now it was enough. She gathered her strength, slowly rose from the floor and walked behind her desk. Behind the desk, she could regain her composure. Whenever she sat behind the desk, she was more in control than she believed she was. This was where she could become The Angela Bower. The successful business woman, the employer, the boss. She was not the woman whose heart had just been shattered into millions of tiny shards, those 50 steps away behind the kitchen door.
She opened one of the drawers and pulled out a compact, assessing the damage her recent breakdown had just caused. Sighing deeply, she began to pat her tears away with a kleenex and fix her makeup the best she could. She knew eventually Tony would try and find her. He wouldn't be the man he was, if he didn't seek her out, especially when he knew he had hurt her. But he couldn't see her this way, with black mascara tears trailing down her face. She had to try and cover the damage, and put the mask up again before he arrived. And she had a feeling it would be sooner than she would have preferred. It was then that she realized, in her great escape from the kitchen, she had left Jon and Peter's record file and glasses on the table.
No bother, she would not leave this room yet. Not with Tony on the other side of the walls. And especially knowing that Tony was in the family room with Her. She would wait for the files, it's not like she would be able to focus on them anyway. Instead she pulled her spare glasses from her file cabinet and grabbed papers that were scattered in places around her. She would occupy herself with these, at least until her immediate work or Tony forced her to face the world again.
They all spoke in circles around him. Maybe it was important, maybe it was utter nonsense. It didn't matter though, Tony wasn't listening to any of it. His ears instead were trying to pick up any sounds of crying he was sure was happening behind the office door. He didn't hear anything of course, but he still sat there listening intently anyway.
At some point during the study session, Kathleen had managed to squeeze next to him on the sofa. She was obviously charmed by him, still caught up in the activities from the night before. She sat closer than was necessary and he began to feel her hands creeping up his leg or back when she thought no one was looking. He involuntarily flinched when she tried to caress the hair on the nape on his neck and this caused the conversations in the room to come to a halt.
"I'm sorry!" Tony's knee jerk reaction had him jumping from the chair.
"I'm sorry." He repeated again, quieter this time. "I'm just really tired and I can't concentrate on anything right now. I think we should try and reschedule guys. What do you think?"
Nods followed around the room, obviously Tony's rambling and sudden discomfort unnerving the rest of the group. Kathleen stared at him agape for several seconds before gathering her composure and waiting for everyone else to say their goodbyes.
"Tony, are you okay?" She approached him slowly when the room emptied, fearing that any quick movements on her part would cause him to bolt. He was nervous and on edge, and considering she knew nothing of his strange relationship with his employer, she assumed it was because of her.
"Hey I'm fine…yeah I'm perfect. Why wouldn't I be? Just tired. Yep I'm tired. I didn't sleep much. Well you knew that…." The rush of words just wouldn't stop, pouring out of him before he'd had time to think it through. Kathleen needed to leave, they all needed to leave. Why was she still staring at him, why wasn't she moving?
"You don't seem fine or perfect. You seem, I don't know, scared?" She took a step towards him and Tony promptly took a step back.
"I told you I'm fine Kathleen. Seriously. But I think I need to clean up here and turn in. So if you don't mind…" he pointed his hand towards the door, hoping she would understand and take the hint to go with everyone else.
She didn't. Instead she stood there staring, seething and eventually crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"Tony I know you're not fine. If I did something to offend you, the least you can do is have some respect for me and tell me."
Tony shook his head vehemently, hoping it would stop this conversation which was threatening to become long and tedious.
"You didn't do anything. I told you I'm fine. And not for nothing, but you don't know me well enough to assume anything else is going on with me."
Kathleen had to admit that even though things felt off kilter, he had a point. They didn't know each other, at least not well enough to start an argument over what she considered strange behavior. Shrugging her shoulders she walked to the coat rack and grabbed her purse.
"Have it your way. I still feel like something isn't right with you, but I'll drop it for now. Call me okay?" Turning back around, she blew him a kiss before walking out the front door.
Tony sighed deeply and watched the front door shut. His shoulders sagged slightly. He knew what he needed to do. He had to go speak with Angela. They weren't technically a couple, but he had hoped they would be. He had to explain to her why he'd done what he'd done the night before. Fear was obviously a key factor, but there was something else too.
Shame was probably the best word. He was ashamed of the differences between him and Angela. He knew she didn't care, she'd told him as much. But he cared. He didn't have anything of value to offer her. Only his love, and since life wasn't a Disney movie, he couldn't enter a relationship with her unless he could offer her something else. He needed to be able to give her something physical and tangible.
There was none of those insecurities with Kathleen. They were on even footing. She was easy, she was safe. But she wasn't Angela.
Angela, whom he knew he had strong feelings for. Feelings that bordered on a love so intense, it took him aback. He hadn't had feelings for another woman since Marie and he had lost her. He didn't know if he could survive losing Angela if they became anything more than what they were.
So when Angela asked him if the thing between him and Kathleen was over, he told her he wasn't sure. Not because he cared for Kathleen in that way, or was interested in even taking it to another level with her. He wasn't sure because he didn't want to lose Angela.
Logically he knew that didn't make sense. Pushing Angela away and stuffing her into a friend's column was not what he really wanted. But he knew if he allowed himself to feel anything more, he didn't think he could take the risk that he could lose her too. Just like he'd lost Marie.
Kathleen was easy, uncomplicated and he knew he could probably enjoy some fun with her. Angela was everything. He couldn't lose everything. The safest thing to do now was put her in a box, he could keep everyone safe if she stayed inside that box. And she would always be there.
He knew that wasn't fair to anyone. Not himself, not Kathleen and least of all Angela. He didn't know what else to do though. A mistake was made, words were spoken that couldn't be taken back. Now he needed to deal with the fallout. And the first thing he needed to do was check on Angela. He owed her that much at least.
Sighing again he rose from the sofa and made his way to her office. He needed to try and fix what he could now.
She was in a fog. Stuck in a purgatory that was self-inflicted. She sat behind the desk and stared off into the nothingness.
She knew she didn't have to hide herself away. This was her house, she could have walked out the door and gone anywhere she chose too. But she didn't want to take the risk that anyone would see her before she was ready.
Appearances are important, and she knew she couldn't trust the image that she would present just yet. Angela needed time to recollect. So she just sat behind the desk and waited. He would come, and hopefully she would be ready by then. But for now, she would just sit and breathe.
Author's Note: I only intended this too be a one shot. It may become more later but for now I just wanted some kind of expiration for what happened from the kitchen conversation to the one in the Angela's office. I felt that the audience got ripped off from getting some really good emotional scenes that could have happened in those in between moments.
I am new to the fandom and fanfics in general so if it seems scattered and all over the place, I do apologize!!