Hey guys. . .once again, thanks for reading. You might notice that my posts don't seem as long. Well. . .I listened when you said you wanted me to keep up the tension. . .


"Are you still mad that I gave up long before you did?"
- humbly borrowed from "Are you still mad", written and performed by Alanis Morrissette



Wentworth was quiet, caught off guard.
“I’ll never let you break my heart again. . .” Wentworth said.
“You never should have let me break it the first time,” Gabby said. “I thought you knew better. I thought you were protecting yourself.”
“Like you were?” he accused her.
“Wentworth. . .” Gabby sighed his name, running a finger lightly down the side of his cheek. “Did I really hurt you that bad?”
Wentworth didn’t answer her, he couldn’t. He was trying not to think about what they had once meant to each other. . .what they would never mean to each other again. . .
Clearly, the memories came back to him, assailing him, attacking him. . .he remembered the day when he woke up and realized that Gabrielle was gone. . .it was a cold, lonely morning in January and he was by himself in the bed they’d shared the night before, the same bed they’d made wild, frenzied love in, clinging to each other. . .
I love you, she’d whispered against his lips.
Don’t ever leave me, he’d said, demanding a promise from her. . .
A promise that she hadn’t hesitated to break.
As he’d stared up at the ceiling in the cold, empty bed, he felt as though she’d ripped his heart from his chest and slammed it into the wall.
Shaking the melancholy away, Wentworth said, “The heart is resilient. It always fights back. . .it’s never completely destroyed.”
“Well,” she said. “The heart wants what it wants, right?”
Yeah. . .and his heart wanted her. Desperately.
But, he wasn’t about to tell her that. He’d deal with his heart and its foolish desires later. Tonight, he had to focus on those diamonds.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re here?” he asked.
“OK, I’ll be honest with you,” He heard her say. “I did come here to find the diamonds.”
“Where are they?”
“I don’t have them. . .I don’t know where they are.”
“Why were you looking for them?”
“I was hired to find them.”
“Hired by whom?”
“By the person who lost them.”
“And who would that be?”
“You know, I could ask you the same questions,” Gabby said. “Why are you here looking for diamonds. You don’t need to do this anymore. ‘Prison Break’ is a hit. It’s been nominated for a Golden Globe. . .”
“You think I give a fuck about the Golden Globes?”
“I don’t understand,” Gabby said. “Don’t you have everything you want?”
“No,” Wentworth said, his lips inches from hers. “Not everything. . .”


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