Sue had that look–the one that spelled L-E-C-T-U-R-E. The infuriating thing about Sue's lectures was that she was almost always right. Dammit. "Taylor just left." Sue placed her palms on his desk and leaned toward him. "She's been here over a week. You have to talk to her, Gordon." Yeah, almost always right, but not this time. He summoned a bland expression and grabbed a pencil to occupy his hands, twirling it between his thumbs and forefingers. "I have talked to her. Every day." "About...what happened?" Sue's face paled. "You told her everything?" Gordon closed his eyes, remembering. "No, we haven't discussed that." He met Sue's gaze. "And we aren't going to. It's over, Sue. Let it go." She shook her head very slowly. "You're lying to yourself, buddy. It's far from over." Gordon's gut twisted into a knot and the pencil snapped in two. "Don't go there, Sue." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Just...don't." His dreams provided enough ongoing torture to send him to an early grave.
