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Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
A/N: I had a bit of this written from awhile back, so I dug it out and decided to finish it off. I'm getting kind of good at this writing on the fly thing. hee I finished this off today while writing for the Blogathon.
She’s angry and she’s sad, and the next time she comes face to face with him alone, she knows she can’t hide it anymore. He can’t seem to do or say anything since that night on the beach, and he’s looking at her like he had then. She wonders why they can’t just get over themselves and say what they mean; what so desperately needs to be said.

She can’t take his silence anymore, just like she hasn’t been able to take it all year. It’s become the worst kind of grating, like nails on a chalkboard, or a fork scraping idly against the ceramic of a plate. He’s the last one out of the office, and she doesn’t even know why he stopped in front of her if he’s just going to look at her like that and make her want to pull her hair out at his silence. The ball is in his court, but apparently he has forgotten how to play.

Her hand slides from the cool plastic of her phone, and she looks up at him expectantly. There’s a tirade going on in her head while she waits for him to speak first, but when he doesn’t she’s not even surprised when her thoughts are suddenly being voiced into the void.

“So what are you going to do, Jim?” she starts, but doesn’t give him a chance to answer. “Are you just going to go to New York, impress them with your newfound ambition, and live happily ever after in the city with Karen? And if you don’t get it and she does, what are you going to do? Was that the big plan the two of you had cooked up?” It’s a lot of questions at once, but she can’t bring herself to care.

“It didn’t seem to matter at the time,” he says finally, and she is rather shocked he still has a voice that isn’t used solely for selling paper.

“Sometimes I wonder what does anymore,” she says, gathering up the late faxes to put on Michael’s desk for in the morning. She has already told him where she stands, and she has resigned herself to the fact that it really might not matter to him anymore. It won’t make her happy, and she doesn’t know what she will do if she has to face the reality of a life without him, but at least she will know. That is all of which she is certain right now - she has to know.

Her life has been in limbo for an entire year, at least where he’s concerned, and she knows that no more forward movement can be accomplished until he’s out of the way - one way or the other.

She comes around the desk to stand in front of him, the papers clutched tightly in her hands, waiting. She wants to rip them up in a show of temper that she just hasn’t had until now, but she refrains. He’s sucking all the air from the room, and all she really wants to do is put them in their proper location and leave.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he says, just when she is ready to give up on him altogether.

She blinks, almost as if she doesn’t understand him, because in a way she doesn’t. If he misses her so much, she can’t understand why he’s been acting like a jackass for months. “I -” she starts, but then closes her mouth.

“I didn’t realize what I was doing to you.” He is looking at the floor intently. “I was hurt, and I was taking it out on you. I shouldn’t have - I should have… given you a chance. I should’ve known, but it was too much. Putting Karen between you and me was wrong, but it was the only way I knew how to come back here and survive.”

Her lips draw into a thin line, and she stares at the papers in her hands, blinks as they blur into a solid, white blob before her tear-filled eyes.

“I guess I didn’t realize,” she says. “I mean, I should have known. I don’t know how I expected things to be the same. I just want to fix this.”

“I know,” he says, and he finally looks at her. “We can, I hope. I think we should start as good friends again, and maybe… I still need to figure out some things from here. I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen, but we need to communicate,” he stresses.

She nods. She can tell what it’s costing him to hold back, she can always tell now. It isn’t what she really wants to hear, but it will have to do for now. It‘s more than she has had to hold onto for the last year. “That’s fine. That’s good, actually. I just don’t want you to shut me out anymore.” She wants to say she cares about him too much for that, but she’s afraid that will be going too far at this point.

“I won’t. I just need a little more time to think, okay?” He offers her a smile, the first one she’s seen in days.

“Okay,” she says. “Whenever you’re ready.” She thinks for a second, uncharitably, that she’s giving him a lot more time to think than he ever gave her, but she shoves it aside. There’s no room for bitterness if they’re going to work things out.

“Thanks,” he says. “I’ll see you Monday?”

“Yeah, have a good weekend, Jim.”

“You, too,” he says. He seems to remember they’re the last ones left at the office. “You want me to walk you to your car?” he offers.

“If you can hang on a sec, I just need to put these in Michael’s office and I’ll meet you at the elevator.”

“All right,” he says and walks out.

As she finishes up her daily routine, she wonders if things will really ever be the same again.



Cassandra Mulder is the author of 23 other stories.
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