Sara sat on the corner of her couch, with her knees pulled up to her chest, and her hands clutched a bottle of beer that she knew she shouldn't be drinking.
Just a few months ago, Gil had sat across from her in this room, and she had poured her heart out to him, telling him everything he didn't know about what had made her the woman she was. She told him about her feelings and needs and about everything she wanted to give - to him. He was sympathetic and listened as she begged him to understand, to make it right, to make it all worth something. He did. He gave her a way out from under the trouble she was in, and pushed her to talk to someone who could help her heal.
She knew that it meant that he cared for her, as she did for him, and that he wanted to make things right between them. She had finished the program and was doing much better now. She had shared that news with him today. Work hadn't been the place to discuss it, but they had both been off shift for a few hours now; she had seen him wave in the parking lot to let her know. He would call her soon, or come by, and they would talk and finally finish what they had started all those months ago.
That was what she had been waiting for, working for. He made what had gone before worthwhile, a price worth paying. She just had to sit by the phone and wait. Then, everything would be alright.