I Don't Have a Choice (But I Still Choose You) (Liz/Jack, L/Danny, 4/4)
Title: I Don't Have a Choice (But I Still Choose You)
Part: Four of Four
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairings: Danny/Liz, Jack/Liz, Jack/Other
Spoilers: through 'Black Light Attack!'
Word Count (this part): 4,505
Rating (this part): PG-13
Summary: Following Jack's wedding, Liz tries to distract herself. (Sequel to " I Wish I Were the One You're Looking For.")
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Title is from the song 'Poison & Wine' by The Civil Wars. Don't sue.
*
Last night, Danny offered to go talk to Jack with her, but she refused. He didn't ask Danny, after all. He didn't order Danny. Also, last night: Danny assured her things would be okay. But she doesn't *feel* like everything's going to be okay. She doesn't want this, doesn't want to deal with Jack telling her how she screwed up, doesn't want to explain anything about what she's doing, doesn't want to know how disgusted he was with having to witness a brief moment of her sex life, and this is why she lingers at the elevators when she gets off at the fifty-second floor. But she has to go in, and when she does, she sees that Jonathan isn't as his desk. After she walks into his office, she closes the door behind her. Sucks in a breath. She doesn't say anything as she walks nearer to his desk, and he doesn't say anything as he stands up. Then they're directly across from each other, his desk separating them, and she tries to act as nonchalant as she can, finally breaks the silence:
"You wanted to see me?"
Jack doesn't reply right away. "You do know that anyone could have walked in on you, don't you? Honestly, Lemon, what were you thinking?"
"I wasn't... I wasn't thinking anything."
"I suppose that's obvious. I hope you appreciate that a display such as the one I was forced to view--"
Her heart races, though she was expecting this. She lets herself be defiant because this isn't his business. Not really. "I get it, I get it, the fact that anyone would have sex with me is disgusting and you don't want to have to see it."
"Lemon--"
"No, don't... Just back off, okay?" She adds a lie. "It has nothing to do with you."
He's silent for a moment. Says, tone less harsh but still judgmental: "This is what you've been doing for the past couple of months? Getting yourself wrapped up in an affair with an employee?"
"I'm not wrapped up--"
"You're not wrapped up? Then what *has* been going on between the two of you?"
She shakes her head. "It's none of your business."
"Of course it's my business. I'm your boss--"
"It's still--"
"We've had this discussion before. Deciding to have an affair with an employee affects your show--"
"We," she asserts, "also had the discussion about how all you really cared about was having to imagine your guy friend being his boss's plaything, about me taking up his time. Well, I haven't been stealing him away from you." She exhales. "You've been busy, you've gone to, what, one baseball game with him in the past two months and I didn't call him away. And I know he hasn't said anything to you about what we've been doing and he doesn't plan to, so you don't have to worry about hearing things you can't *stand* to hear."
"Regardless of whatever personal issues I may or may not--"
"May?"
"--have had with your involvement with Danny, the professional ones remain."
"I haven't treated him any differently. Trust me, if I had given him more screen time, Jenna would have noticed and I'd probably be dead right now. *Nothing* has changed."
"And you're still convinced it won't get serious? That it isn't serious? You're sleeping with him, Liz, and I know you don't have sex for the sake of pleasure."
She bristles. "You don't know anything about this. You don't get to act like you *know* everything. It's not serious, and I can manage to enjoy sex. I... I like having sex with him." Jack tenses and he looks away from her for a moment. "It's never going to be serious with him."
He's dismissive; incredulous. "Is that so?"
"It is."
"Why?"
She hesitates. "I don't want it to be serious with him. We're just having fun."
"I don't think 'fun' is something you look to sex for, either--"
She wants to tell him to shut up; that she can't hear one more word about how he views her, but she can't manage to. She'd sound wounded more than annoyed, and she doesn't want him to know that this hurts her, his perception of her as cold and sexless. "What does this have to do with anything, Jack? The problem isn't that I'm a cold fish, right; it's that I'm breaking a rule. So--"
"The problem is that--"
She cuts him off; the condescension in his voice is too heavy for her to deal with.
"It's got to be serious? It's not, okay? It's not, because neither of us wants it to be. I don't want to have a serious relationship with him." The need to be truthful hits her. "I can't have a serious relationship with him, because I'm in love with someone else."
He hesitates in turn. "And you haven't told me about this because?"
"Because nothing is going to happen. Nothing's going to happen, so it doesn't matter, but the point is Danny and I aren't serious--"
"Let me guess," he begins coolly. "He's someone you've seen around and exchanged pleasantries with, perhaps outside your favorite sandwich shop. You don't know his name, but you know he's the perfect man for you. After a few weeks of wondering if you should do anything, you'll finally make a move that will be motivated by the insanity that often grips you when you become drawn to a man, go out with him for a while, and lose interest in your new boyfriend faster than you went crazy because of him."
She hates that he's described her well. She hates that she's not that woman anymore, the one who can see the promise in men she doesn't know very well; even though it got her nowhere, at least she hope the right guy was still out there. At least she wasn't stuck.
"Oh, yeah, you're one to talk, Mr. I Fall in Love in Five Seconds." Her words are angrier; not as detached. "You go on one date with a woman and you decide you want to marry her, that she's the love of your life... You don't even need to go on a date, do you? One evening of meaningless sex you decide is suddenly *meaningful.* Seriously Jack, how many women have you declared to be 'the one' in the time I've known you? Now I know what it's like to truly be in love, Lemon. It's ridiculous."
"I suppose we can decide which of us has a healthier view of relationships by noting who is currently in a committed one."
"Yeah, Jack, you don't have to remind me that you're married. I know you're married. You have a *great* relationship with a woman you *adore* and I'm alone and in love with someone who doesn't love me. And I am in love. Have I ever told you I was in love with Floyd? Drew? I didn't. Because I wasn't. Maybe I could have loved them. I could have loved Floyd, I know that, and I know the difference between being on the way to maybe loving someone and being in love because that's what I am now. I know I'm in love with him. And I know that it's never going to happen between me and this guy. It's very clear that it's not going to happen." Her voice falters, and Jack's features soften. "And I do know his *name.* I know him. I know him, and I know that it's never going to happen, so I went for something light and uncomplicated, like you did after you split up with Bianca. You did that for years, I should get to do it for a few months, right?"
Liz is aware her voice sounds so pitiful now, her tone a confession that she's losing the battle when it comes to forgetting what she really wants. He seems concerned again, the way he was the other day when he told her, You're not happy. Seeing worry on his face when she's admitting she's not okay makes her feel worse, and she gets her defenses back up enough to say:
"But I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you have a different set of rules for everyone else, huh? You spend most of your life screwing strangers you don't give a crap about and that's awesome--"
"What's going on?" he asks.
"What's going on? What's going on. I just told you."
"Why didn't you tell me before now?"
"Because I couldn't. Because you wouldn't want to hear it."
"Are you under the impression I don't actually care about you?"
"No, I'm not..." Liz knows he cares about her. But not enough. It'll never be enough. "But I knew you wouldn't want to hear it. Because you'd want to know who the guy is. Why I can't go for it, if I feel this way about him. If I'm really, finally, actually in love, why can't I go for it? Because this guy, he's made it very clear what our relationship is. How he feels about me. And even if there were a chance he could want me which, again, there is none, but even if there *were*... he's in love with someone else. And I know that he loves this woman and not me because I know him." She's unable to stop, like she's running down a hill. How can she stop? How can she keep this a mystery? How could he not figure it out in a matter of moments even if stops short of spelling it out? "I mean, not him. You. I know you. I know you love your wife. I know you don't love me."
Jack is silent for a moment; stunned into silence, she supposes. "Lemon--"
"I love you," she says. Because why not just say it directly? Why not let it all out? "I'm in love with you. I don't know when it happened, but it hasn't always been there. I know you think I used to have a thing for you, and I didn't. Not then. And what I feel for you isn't a crush, it isn't something fleeting. It's been going on since before you started seeing Marina. Maybe when you were flirting with Nancy... maybe that's when it started. Because I didn't like the idea of you going after her. I mean, I was okay with it at first, because I assumed it wouldn't go anywhere. But when it started to go somewhere, I didn't like it. I thought, well, maybe it was because I was worried about you. Worried about you wrecking a marriage, first of all. Worried about you going after a woman who wasn't going to leave her husband. That you'd get hurt. And I was worried about that. I didn't want you to get hurt. But more than that, I think I didn't want you to be with someone else. And I didn't. I knew I didn't when you told me you'd fallen in love. You were over Nancy, and in love and so happy, and I couldn't stand it. I couldn't stand it, hearing about your plans to propose to her, seeing her walk around with a huge diamond ring on her finger and you staring at her with that look... You know the way you look at her. Like you love her. Because you do love her. I don't know why I'm telling you that.
"But I can't stand it. I couldn't stand being your best man. Wearing that ugly dress and carrying her wedding band in that ugly purse. You know how humiliating that is? Do you have *any* idea what that feels like? I couldn't stand watching you marry her, and I wanted to stop it. But I knew I couldn't, because you weren't in love with me. You aren't in love with me. You could never want me. And I can't stand it, thinking about you and her together. I can't stand her. For no good reason. I hate her." It's not something she's admitted secretly, let alone out loud, and she finds herself surprised by the words. "I hate her because you love her. And I can't stand spending time with the two of you, watching you together. So I fooled around with someone to distract me. I fooled around with someone who wanted me, which isn't being in love with me, but it's something. And I wouldn't want him to be in love with me, because it wouldn't be fair. It would make it worse, if someone were in love with me and all I could think about was you and your stupid giant head.
"I didn't mean that. A love declaration shouldn't have the phrase stupid giant head. But, yeah. I shouldn't have started sleeping with Danny. It was a bad idea. And it didn't really distract me, because I think about you when I'm with him. I think about how it would be different with you. I think about what it would be like with you. I think about how much I wish he were you. I think about how much I wish you were the one I'm sleeping with."
He doesn't grimace. She hates that this comforts her, him managing to control his gag reflex at the suggestion of them having sex.
"I have sex with him and I feel horrible because it's not what I want. I don't want to have casual sex with a guy I'm never going to love. I want you, and I hate it. I hate that I want you this much, because what's the point? What's the point, wanting something that's never going to happen? And, you know, when I think about us, us as a couple, it's not perfect. I'm not sure I could ever be what you want. I'm not sure you'd be the sort of boyfriend I want. I'm not sure we'd work together. And I can't stand that, either, that I'm crazy about you when I'm not sure we'd be a long-term thing even if you did feel the same way."
"Liz--"
"And it's driving me crazy, all of this. It's driving me crazy that I think we *could* work. I think I could compromise. I think we could compromise. I think we could be good together. And that's driving me crazy, that I may have found the man I could spend the rest of my life with and be *happy* with, but I can't have what I want. I can't have you. It's driving me crazy that you're married to this woman who doesn't really *know* you, Jack. You've known her for a total of what, six months? Almost seven months? You're married to her, and you've barely known her for half a year. You're married to this woman who doesn't know all these things about you, who you *refuse* to tell all this stuff about you. How much does she know about you, really?"
She remembers a late night talk where he calculated how much of his past he should reveal to her. How much of his childhood was relevant, how much of his romantic history was relevant, and it seemed so... pointless. So much like something you shouldn't do when you're in love with someone and that someone loves you back.
"I think you let me get so close to you because you didn't want me to fall in love with you," she continues. "I mean, you weren't trying to romance me. So you let me get close to you. I think you believe that a woman wouldn't really love you if she knew you completely. And you're wrong. You're wrong, and you deserve to be loved for everything you are, for all the things that you hide from pretty much everyone, all the things you share with me. You deserve that. And, you know, I don't like many people. Even a lot of my friends, I can't stand them most of the time. But I love you. That means something. That means a lot, that I feel this way--"
"Liz, stop it." His voice isn't sharp, isn't angry, but it nonetheless puts her on edge. "Stop."
She does; properly focuses on Jack's face now that she isn't unleashing a torrent of words. He looks... stunned. Dazed? And she finally lets it sink in that she told him the truth. She told him the truth and it changes everything and nothing at the same time.
"I'm sorry," she mutters.
"Don't apologize." He looks down at his desk. Doesn't make eye contact for his next words. "I don't know what to say."
"I don't want you to say anything. I don't want you to say a word. But I needed to say it. Because I've spent so long not saying it. I've spent months not saying it." Her throat and eyes burn and her head is starting to ache. She follows his example and looks downward, focusing her gaze on her sneakers for a few seconds before she says, "I'm going to end it with Danny. I am, I'm going to end it. It wasn't... You're right, I shouldn't sleep with an employee. I know that. I should go to work. I mean, I should go to my floor."
She turns to leave, and she hears him tell her to wait. She ignores it, continues to make her way to the door. Hearing his footsteps, she wants to run but doesn't. He tries to grab her arm, but only takes hold of a bit of her sweater, and she easily gets out of his grasp. Then his arm is around her, his fingers curved against her side, and it takes her a moment to react. To gasp, and for her heart to skip a beat. She doesn't move, doesn't try to get out of his embrace, but does utter, "Let me go. I can't be here. I don't want to talk about this."
"I'm sorry." His breath falls against where her neck meets her shoulder. "I had no intention of hurting you."
"It's not your fault. It's not your problem." She pauses, her body tensing. It's unfair for him to hold her this way. It's unfair that she can't bring herself to shake him off. "It's my problem."
His grip loosens and she turns instead of walking forward. She lets him hug her like this is okay, for him to give her comfort this way, considering what the comfort is for. Considering that the feel of his body against hers is like another small punishment. Another almost that isn't an almost at all. But she returns the hug, her hands resting near his shoulders while one of his is at the small of her back. She doesn't cry, though the threat remains at her frayed edges, ready at any moment to overtake her.
"I can't be here," she says again. Stays motionless. "I can't."
She lifts her head up, looks into his eyes. She wants to take a moment to read what she sees in them, but instead, without thinking (and with desperation? hope? masochism?) she gets on her tiptoes as she rests a hand at the back of his neck, pulling his face closer to hers. Pressing her lips against his and parting them. She's surprised by the lack of hesitance in his response, and also how awkward the beginning is.
He pulls back slightly and tilts his head before his mouth is on hers again, and this one is what she expected. No, not expected, because she didn't expect this. It's what she wanted, wants; to feel him *needing* her. And she finds herself acutely aware of every second of it, of his lips and his tongue, of her palm pressed to his skin, of his fingers pressing into her back. Being with him like this makes it all the easier to imagine herself with him in other ways. Makes the thought of his hand on her bare skin for more than a few moments, on somewhere other than her arm, an actual possibility (all he'd have to do is lift her shirt up, she wouldn't stop him). Makes her consider everything in his context, consider this kiss becoming him undressing her, his fingers between her legs, spreading her open before he eases inside her. His hand slides up her spine and she shudders, letting out a little moan as she pushes herself toward him more insistently, ridding themselves of what little distance was left. It feels perfect (if she forgets the context) and endless (but she knows it will end).
And when it does end, when his thumb is moving back and forth over a patch of skin on the back of her neck, he rests his forehead against hers.
"I can't do this," he says.
Her breath comes out ragged. "Then let me go. Okay? Let me go."
He does.
She steps back; stares at him. Wonders if he kissed her because she loves him and he got caught up in how knowing that made him feel, or if part of him wants her. If he lives with a part of himself he buried and disavowed, who looks at her as something desirable. Or if he pitied her.
She doesn't ask.
*
When she gets on the elevator, she doesn't hit her floor, choosing instead one at random. (Turns out it's fifteen.) After she gets off, she walks as calmly as she can to the nearest bathroom. Locks herself in a stall and finally lets herself cry.
*
Liz is having trouble concentrating.
Most of them don't notice -- Frank and Toofer are fighting over something, and it seems like people are taking sides and joining in on the debate -- but she is aware of some concerned looks from Pete, and even more from Danny. She stops the conversation -- maybe suddenly, maybe they were in the middle of something, she doesn't care -- with an, "Okay, let's take a break. Five minutes. An hour. I don't know. I just need a break."
The voices continue almost as soon as she turns to her office, and she... doesn't care.
She can't get this morning out of her mind; her confession, the feel of Jack's mouth on hers. The rejection, and whether or not it will get better after this. How she'll talk to Jack after today, now that she can't pretend she doesn't want him. Now that she's completely exposed, completely transparent.
She's in her office for a couple of minutes when she hears a knock at the door. Danny doesn't wait for a come in before he enters, and Liz knows he wants to hear what happened with Jack. She knows she doesn't want to talk about it.
But she has to tell him something.
She doesn't start before he does. Before he says, "What did he say to you?"
"Nothing," Liz says. "I mean, just what I thought he'd say. We shouldn't keep seeing each other. It would be a big problem if we did--"
"I'm going to talk to him."
"No, no, don't do that--"
"You've been crying, Liz. He has no right to make you cry--"
"He didn't do anything wrong." (It's not the whole truth is it? It's not the whole truth.) She thinks about what to say before she leans forward in her chair and quietly lets out, "I was... I got upset because it's embarrassing. It's embarrassing to have your boss walk in on you when you're... It's embarrassing to be someone who has a 'reformed workplace sex criminal' certificate, and who had her boss remind her that she's on her way to getting a new one. It's embarrassing, and we have to end it between us, okay? I can't screw up like this anymore. I can't make any more mistakes."
"It wasn't the worst mistake, was it?" he says lightly, and she doesn't know if he wants to cheer her up or wants to reminisce for a moment, or both.
She shakes her head. "It wasn't," she says, because sleeping with him wasn't the mistake. The baggage she brought with her was. She was the problem. She's always the problem.
"It doesn't even feel like that much of a mistake." He pauses. "I do like you."
She fakes a smile. "Yeah, but Canadians like everyone. That's a joke, by the way."
He smiles back. "I know."
"I do *like* you, Danny. You know that. But this... we shouldn't be doing this anyway. This isn't... we can't ever have a real relationship. We can never be open about it. And I need to have a serious relationship. I need to find someone I can spend the rest of my life with, because I can't be alone anymore." Her breath hitches; she starts to feel like she's going to cry. "You should be with someone, too," she continues. "You need something less complicated. Or more complicated. Whatever you want."
He moves closer, and she stands. Lets him embrace her, lets him think that he, what the two of them had, is what she's mourning most of all.
She feels guilty. She feels like a liar. But now, at least, she feels like she won't have to lie to him anymore.
*
For the rest of the day she avoids Jack, and Jack lets her do it. Or Jack is avoiding her, too. She's grateful for it in a way; she doesn't want to talk to him now, even though she can't imagine it'll be easier in a couple of days. She has no idea when it will be easier.
(But isn't that always the way?)
As she's walking toward the elevators, Jack is stepping off one, and she doesn't know what to do. Doesn't know how to react, so she stands there, watching him.
"Liz... I still don't know what to say."
She shakes her head. "Then don't say anything, okay? There's nothing to say."
He steps closer as she steps back. "I love my wife." Then: "I kissed you... I kissed you, and I didn't do that because I feel nothing for you."
There's a mess of emotions inside of her, and she doesn't step closer because she worries she'll kiss him again. Make this worse.
"What do you feel for me? No, don't answer. I don't want to know, okay? Because you're married and it doesn't matter--"
"I need time," he says. "I need you to give me time."
The words make hope a bigger part of what she feels, even though it isn't an I choose you. Because it's closer to a yes than she ever thought she'd get (she never even imagined she'd ask). Even though she doesn't fully trust the hope side of this.
Her voice is both shaky and sure at the same time. "I'm not going anywhere."
She lets out a breath.
END
Part: Four of Four
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairings: Danny/Liz, Jack/Liz, Jack/Other
Spoilers: through 'Black Light Attack!'
Word Count (this part): 4,505
Rating (this part): PG-13
Summary: Following Jack's wedding, Liz tries to distract herself. (Sequel to " I Wish I Were the One You're Looking For.")
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Title is from the song 'Poison & Wine' by The Civil Wars. Don't sue.
*
Last night, Danny offered to go talk to Jack with her, but she refused. He didn't ask Danny, after all. He didn't order Danny. Also, last night: Danny assured her things would be okay. But she doesn't *feel* like everything's going to be okay. She doesn't want this, doesn't want to deal with Jack telling her how she screwed up, doesn't want to explain anything about what she's doing, doesn't want to know how disgusted he was with having to witness a brief moment of her sex life, and this is why she lingers at the elevators when she gets off at the fifty-second floor. But she has to go in, and when she does, she sees that Jonathan isn't as his desk. After she walks into his office, she closes the door behind her. Sucks in a breath. She doesn't say anything as she walks nearer to his desk, and he doesn't say anything as he stands up. Then they're directly across from each other, his desk separating them, and she tries to act as nonchalant as she can, finally breaks the silence:
"You wanted to see me?"
Jack doesn't reply right away. "You do know that anyone could have walked in on you, don't you? Honestly, Lemon, what were you thinking?"
"I wasn't... I wasn't thinking anything."
"I suppose that's obvious. I hope you appreciate that a display such as the one I was forced to view--"
Her heart races, though she was expecting this. She lets herself be defiant because this isn't his business. Not really. "I get it, I get it, the fact that anyone would have sex with me is disgusting and you don't want to have to see it."
"Lemon--"
"No, don't... Just back off, okay?" She adds a lie. "It has nothing to do with you."
He's silent for a moment. Says, tone less harsh but still judgmental: "This is what you've been doing for the past couple of months? Getting yourself wrapped up in an affair with an employee?"
"I'm not wrapped up--"
"You're not wrapped up? Then what *has* been going on between the two of you?"
She shakes her head. "It's none of your business."
"Of course it's my business. I'm your boss--"
"It's still--"
"We've had this discussion before. Deciding to have an affair with an employee affects your show--"
"We," she asserts, "also had the discussion about how all you really cared about was having to imagine your guy friend being his boss's plaything, about me taking up his time. Well, I haven't been stealing him away from you." She exhales. "You've been busy, you've gone to, what, one baseball game with him in the past two months and I didn't call him away. And I know he hasn't said anything to you about what we've been doing and he doesn't plan to, so you don't have to worry about hearing things you can't *stand* to hear."
"Regardless of whatever personal issues I may or may not--"
"May?"
"--have had with your involvement with Danny, the professional ones remain."
"I haven't treated him any differently. Trust me, if I had given him more screen time, Jenna would have noticed and I'd probably be dead right now. *Nothing* has changed."
"And you're still convinced it won't get serious? That it isn't serious? You're sleeping with him, Liz, and I know you don't have sex for the sake of pleasure."
She bristles. "You don't know anything about this. You don't get to act like you *know* everything. It's not serious, and I can manage to enjoy sex. I... I like having sex with him." Jack tenses and he looks away from her for a moment. "It's never going to be serious with him."
He's dismissive; incredulous. "Is that so?"
"It is."
"Why?"
She hesitates. "I don't want it to be serious with him. We're just having fun."
"I don't think 'fun' is something you look to sex for, either--"
She wants to tell him to shut up; that she can't hear one more word about how he views her, but she can't manage to. She'd sound wounded more than annoyed, and she doesn't want him to know that this hurts her, his perception of her as cold and sexless. "What does this have to do with anything, Jack? The problem isn't that I'm a cold fish, right; it's that I'm breaking a rule. So--"
"The problem is that--"
She cuts him off; the condescension in his voice is too heavy for her to deal with.
"It's got to be serious? It's not, okay? It's not, because neither of us wants it to be. I don't want to have a serious relationship with him." The need to be truthful hits her. "I can't have a serious relationship with him, because I'm in love with someone else."
He hesitates in turn. "And you haven't told me about this because?"
"Because nothing is going to happen. Nothing's going to happen, so it doesn't matter, but the point is Danny and I aren't serious--"
"Let me guess," he begins coolly. "He's someone you've seen around and exchanged pleasantries with, perhaps outside your favorite sandwich shop. You don't know his name, but you know he's the perfect man for you. After a few weeks of wondering if you should do anything, you'll finally make a move that will be motivated by the insanity that often grips you when you become drawn to a man, go out with him for a while, and lose interest in your new boyfriend faster than you went crazy because of him."
She hates that he's described her well. She hates that she's not that woman anymore, the one who can see the promise in men she doesn't know very well; even though it got her nowhere, at least she hope the right guy was still out there. At least she wasn't stuck.
"Oh, yeah, you're one to talk, Mr. I Fall in Love in Five Seconds." Her words are angrier; not as detached. "You go on one date with a woman and you decide you want to marry her, that she's the love of your life... You don't even need to go on a date, do you? One evening of meaningless sex you decide is suddenly *meaningful.* Seriously Jack, how many women have you declared to be 'the one' in the time I've known you? Now I know what it's like to truly be in love, Lemon. It's ridiculous."
"I suppose we can decide which of us has a healthier view of relationships by noting who is currently in a committed one."
"Yeah, Jack, you don't have to remind me that you're married. I know you're married. You have a *great* relationship with a woman you *adore* and I'm alone and in love with someone who doesn't love me. And I am in love. Have I ever told you I was in love with Floyd? Drew? I didn't. Because I wasn't. Maybe I could have loved them. I could have loved Floyd, I know that, and I know the difference between being on the way to maybe loving someone and being in love because that's what I am now. I know I'm in love with him. And I know that it's never going to happen between me and this guy. It's very clear that it's not going to happen." Her voice falters, and Jack's features soften. "And I do know his *name.* I know him. I know him, and I know that it's never going to happen, so I went for something light and uncomplicated, like you did after you split up with Bianca. You did that for years, I should get to do it for a few months, right?"
Liz is aware her voice sounds so pitiful now, her tone a confession that she's losing the battle when it comes to forgetting what she really wants. He seems concerned again, the way he was the other day when he told her, You're not happy. Seeing worry on his face when she's admitting she's not okay makes her feel worse, and she gets her defenses back up enough to say:
"But I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you have a different set of rules for everyone else, huh? You spend most of your life screwing strangers you don't give a crap about and that's awesome--"
"What's going on?" he asks.
"What's going on? What's going on. I just told you."
"Why didn't you tell me before now?"
"Because I couldn't. Because you wouldn't want to hear it."
"Are you under the impression I don't actually care about you?"
"No, I'm not..." Liz knows he cares about her. But not enough. It'll never be enough. "But I knew you wouldn't want to hear it. Because you'd want to know who the guy is. Why I can't go for it, if I feel this way about him. If I'm really, finally, actually in love, why can't I go for it? Because this guy, he's made it very clear what our relationship is. How he feels about me. And even if there were a chance he could want me which, again, there is none, but even if there *were*... he's in love with someone else. And I know that he loves this woman and not me because I know him." She's unable to stop, like she's running down a hill. How can she stop? How can she keep this a mystery? How could he not figure it out in a matter of moments even if stops short of spelling it out? "I mean, not him. You. I know you. I know you love your wife. I know you don't love me."
Jack is silent for a moment; stunned into silence, she supposes. "Lemon--"
"I love you," she says. Because why not just say it directly? Why not let it all out? "I'm in love with you. I don't know when it happened, but it hasn't always been there. I know you think I used to have a thing for you, and I didn't. Not then. And what I feel for you isn't a crush, it isn't something fleeting. It's been going on since before you started seeing Marina. Maybe when you were flirting with Nancy... maybe that's when it started. Because I didn't like the idea of you going after her. I mean, I was okay with it at first, because I assumed it wouldn't go anywhere. But when it started to go somewhere, I didn't like it. I thought, well, maybe it was because I was worried about you. Worried about you wrecking a marriage, first of all. Worried about you going after a woman who wasn't going to leave her husband. That you'd get hurt. And I was worried about that. I didn't want you to get hurt. But more than that, I think I didn't want you to be with someone else. And I didn't. I knew I didn't when you told me you'd fallen in love. You were over Nancy, and in love and so happy, and I couldn't stand it. I couldn't stand it, hearing about your plans to propose to her, seeing her walk around with a huge diamond ring on her finger and you staring at her with that look... You know the way you look at her. Like you love her. Because you do love her. I don't know why I'm telling you that.
"But I can't stand it. I couldn't stand being your best man. Wearing that ugly dress and carrying her wedding band in that ugly purse. You know how humiliating that is? Do you have *any* idea what that feels like? I couldn't stand watching you marry her, and I wanted to stop it. But I knew I couldn't, because you weren't in love with me. You aren't in love with me. You could never want me. And I can't stand it, thinking about you and her together. I can't stand her. For no good reason. I hate her." It's not something she's admitted secretly, let alone out loud, and she finds herself surprised by the words. "I hate her because you love her. And I can't stand spending time with the two of you, watching you together. So I fooled around with someone to distract me. I fooled around with someone who wanted me, which isn't being in love with me, but it's something. And I wouldn't want him to be in love with me, because it wouldn't be fair. It would make it worse, if someone were in love with me and all I could think about was you and your stupid giant head.
"I didn't mean that. A love declaration shouldn't have the phrase stupid giant head. But, yeah. I shouldn't have started sleeping with Danny. It was a bad idea. And it didn't really distract me, because I think about you when I'm with him. I think about how it would be different with you. I think about what it would be like with you. I think about how much I wish he were you. I think about how much I wish you were the one I'm sleeping with."
He doesn't grimace. She hates that this comforts her, him managing to control his gag reflex at the suggestion of them having sex.
"I have sex with him and I feel horrible because it's not what I want. I don't want to have casual sex with a guy I'm never going to love. I want you, and I hate it. I hate that I want you this much, because what's the point? What's the point, wanting something that's never going to happen? And, you know, when I think about us, us as a couple, it's not perfect. I'm not sure I could ever be what you want. I'm not sure you'd be the sort of boyfriend I want. I'm not sure we'd work together. And I can't stand that, either, that I'm crazy about you when I'm not sure we'd be a long-term thing even if you did feel the same way."
"Liz--"
"And it's driving me crazy, all of this. It's driving me crazy that I think we *could* work. I think I could compromise. I think we could compromise. I think we could be good together. And that's driving me crazy, that I may have found the man I could spend the rest of my life with and be *happy* with, but I can't have what I want. I can't have you. It's driving me crazy that you're married to this woman who doesn't really *know* you, Jack. You've known her for a total of what, six months? Almost seven months? You're married to her, and you've barely known her for half a year. You're married to this woman who doesn't know all these things about you, who you *refuse* to tell all this stuff about you. How much does she know about you, really?"
She remembers a late night talk where he calculated how much of his past he should reveal to her. How much of his childhood was relevant, how much of his romantic history was relevant, and it seemed so... pointless. So much like something you shouldn't do when you're in love with someone and that someone loves you back.
"I think you let me get so close to you because you didn't want me to fall in love with you," she continues. "I mean, you weren't trying to romance me. So you let me get close to you. I think you believe that a woman wouldn't really love you if she knew you completely. And you're wrong. You're wrong, and you deserve to be loved for everything you are, for all the things that you hide from pretty much everyone, all the things you share with me. You deserve that. And, you know, I don't like many people. Even a lot of my friends, I can't stand them most of the time. But I love you. That means something. That means a lot, that I feel this way--"
"Liz, stop it." His voice isn't sharp, isn't angry, but it nonetheless puts her on edge. "Stop."
She does; properly focuses on Jack's face now that she isn't unleashing a torrent of words. He looks... stunned. Dazed? And she finally lets it sink in that she told him the truth. She told him the truth and it changes everything and nothing at the same time.
"I'm sorry," she mutters.
"Don't apologize." He looks down at his desk. Doesn't make eye contact for his next words. "I don't know what to say."
"I don't want you to say anything. I don't want you to say a word. But I needed to say it. Because I've spent so long not saying it. I've spent months not saying it." Her throat and eyes burn and her head is starting to ache. She follows his example and looks downward, focusing her gaze on her sneakers for a few seconds before she says, "I'm going to end it with Danny. I am, I'm going to end it. It wasn't... You're right, I shouldn't sleep with an employee. I know that. I should go to work. I mean, I should go to my floor."
She turns to leave, and she hears him tell her to wait. She ignores it, continues to make her way to the door. Hearing his footsteps, she wants to run but doesn't. He tries to grab her arm, but only takes hold of a bit of her sweater, and she easily gets out of his grasp. Then his arm is around her, his fingers curved against her side, and it takes her a moment to react. To gasp, and for her heart to skip a beat. She doesn't move, doesn't try to get out of his embrace, but does utter, "Let me go. I can't be here. I don't want to talk about this."
"I'm sorry." His breath falls against where her neck meets her shoulder. "I had no intention of hurting you."
"It's not your fault. It's not your problem." She pauses, her body tensing. It's unfair for him to hold her this way. It's unfair that she can't bring herself to shake him off. "It's my problem."
His grip loosens and she turns instead of walking forward. She lets him hug her like this is okay, for him to give her comfort this way, considering what the comfort is for. Considering that the feel of his body against hers is like another small punishment. Another almost that isn't an almost at all. But she returns the hug, her hands resting near his shoulders while one of his is at the small of her back. She doesn't cry, though the threat remains at her frayed edges, ready at any moment to overtake her.
"I can't be here," she says again. Stays motionless. "I can't."
She lifts her head up, looks into his eyes. She wants to take a moment to read what she sees in them, but instead, without thinking (and with desperation? hope? masochism?) she gets on her tiptoes as she rests a hand at the back of his neck, pulling his face closer to hers. Pressing her lips against his and parting them. She's surprised by the lack of hesitance in his response, and also how awkward the beginning is.
He pulls back slightly and tilts his head before his mouth is on hers again, and this one is what she expected. No, not expected, because she didn't expect this. It's what she wanted, wants; to feel him *needing* her. And she finds herself acutely aware of every second of it, of his lips and his tongue, of her palm pressed to his skin, of his fingers pressing into her back. Being with him like this makes it all the easier to imagine herself with him in other ways. Makes the thought of his hand on her bare skin for more than a few moments, on somewhere other than her arm, an actual possibility (all he'd have to do is lift her shirt up, she wouldn't stop him). Makes her consider everything in his context, consider this kiss becoming him undressing her, his fingers between her legs, spreading her open before he eases inside her. His hand slides up her spine and she shudders, letting out a little moan as she pushes herself toward him more insistently, ridding themselves of what little distance was left. It feels perfect (if she forgets the context) and endless (but she knows it will end).
And when it does end, when his thumb is moving back and forth over a patch of skin on the back of her neck, he rests his forehead against hers.
"I can't do this," he says.
Her breath comes out ragged. "Then let me go. Okay? Let me go."
He does.
She steps back; stares at him. Wonders if he kissed her because she loves him and he got caught up in how knowing that made him feel, or if part of him wants her. If he lives with a part of himself he buried and disavowed, who looks at her as something desirable. Or if he pitied her.
She doesn't ask.
*
When she gets on the elevator, she doesn't hit her floor, choosing instead one at random. (Turns out it's fifteen.) After she gets off, she walks as calmly as she can to the nearest bathroom. Locks herself in a stall and finally lets herself cry.
*
Liz is having trouble concentrating.
Most of them don't notice -- Frank and Toofer are fighting over something, and it seems like people are taking sides and joining in on the debate -- but she is aware of some concerned looks from Pete, and even more from Danny. She stops the conversation -- maybe suddenly, maybe they were in the middle of something, she doesn't care -- with an, "Okay, let's take a break. Five minutes. An hour. I don't know. I just need a break."
The voices continue almost as soon as she turns to her office, and she... doesn't care.
She can't get this morning out of her mind; her confession, the feel of Jack's mouth on hers. The rejection, and whether or not it will get better after this. How she'll talk to Jack after today, now that she can't pretend she doesn't want him. Now that she's completely exposed, completely transparent.
She's in her office for a couple of minutes when she hears a knock at the door. Danny doesn't wait for a come in before he enters, and Liz knows he wants to hear what happened with Jack. She knows she doesn't want to talk about it.
But she has to tell him something.
She doesn't start before he does. Before he says, "What did he say to you?"
"Nothing," Liz says. "I mean, just what I thought he'd say. We shouldn't keep seeing each other. It would be a big problem if we did--"
"I'm going to talk to him."
"No, no, don't do that--"
"You've been crying, Liz. He has no right to make you cry--"
"He didn't do anything wrong." (It's not the whole truth is it? It's not the whole truth.) She thinks about what to say before she leans forward in her chair and quietly lets out, "I was... I got upset because it's embarrassing. It's embarrassing to have your boss walk in on you when you're... It's embarrassing to be someone who has a 'reformed workplace sex criminal' certificate, and who had her boss remind her that she's on her way to getting a new one. It's embarrassing, and we have to end it between us, okay? I can't screw up like this anymore. I can't make any more mistakes."
"It wasn't the worst mistake, was it?" he says lightly, and she doesn't know if he wants to cheer her up or wants to reminisce for a moment, or both.
She shakes her head. "It wasn't," she says, because sleeping with him wasn't the mistake. The baggage she brought with her was. She was the problem. She's always the problem.
"It doesn't even feel like that much of a mistake." He pauses. "I do like you."
She fakes a smile. "Yeah, but Canadians like everyone. That's a joke, by the way."
He smiles back. "I know."
"I do *like* you, Danny. You know that. But this... we shouldn't be doing this anyway. This isn't... we can't ever have a real relationship. We can never be open about it. And I need to have a serious relationship. I need to find someone I can spend the rest of my life with, because I can't be alone anymore." Her breath hitches; she starts to feel like she's going to cry. "You should be with someone, too," she continues. "You need something less complicated. Or more complicated. Whatever you want."
He moves closer, and she stands. Lets him embrace her, lets him think that he, what the two of them had, is what she's mourning most of all.
She feels guilty. She feels like a liar. But now, at least, she feels like she won't have to lie to him anymore.
*
For the rest of the day she avoids Jack, and Jack lets her do it. Or Jack is avoiding her, too. She's grateful for it in a way; she doesn't want to talk to him now, even though she can't imagine it'll be easier in a couple of days. She has no idea when it will be easier.
(But isn't that always the way?)
As she's walking toward the elevators, Jack is stepping off one, and she doesn't know what to do. Doesn't know how to react, so she stands there, watching him.
"Liz... I still don't know what to say."
She shakes her head. "Then don't say anything, okay? There's nothing to say."
He steps closer as she steps back. "I love my wife." Then: "I kissed you... I kissed you, and I didn't do that because I feel nothing for you."
There's a mess of emotions inside of her, and she doesn't step closer because she worries she'll kiss him again. Make this worse.
"What do you feel for me? No, don't answer. I don't want to know, okay? Because you're married and it doesn't matter--"
"I need time," he says. "I need you to give me time."
The words make hope a bigger part of what she feels, even though it isn't an I choose you. Because it's closer to a yes than she ever thought she'd get (she never even imagined she'd ask). Even though she doesn't fully trust the hope side of this.
Her voice is both shaky and sure at the same time. "I'm not going anywhere."
She lets out a breath.
END