It's been five years since you've seen him and seven years since you left. Seven years since you packed your most cherished possessions and took off in the middle of the night. You still remember how the moon filtered in through the window and onto his face, illuminating you both as you bent down to kiss him goodbye. The vision of him sprawled out in your bed was forever burned into your memory that night.

At the last second you reached out and swiped your fingers through his hair one last time. You aren't sure now what possessed you to make such a bold move -- what if he had woken up -- but he didn't, and you're not entirely sure you didn't want him to. Would it have kept you there one more night? Yes. Would it have stopped you from leaving all together? No.

You just got tired, really. Tired of her and the glances she threw his way when she thought you weren't looking. You told her more than once that you and he were lovers, but she was not deterred. She kept pursuing him, only she did it more low-key. She thought you might not notice. She was wrong.

You confronted her once in the locker room after shift. She and Grissom had just returned from a nasty case involving a dead body found floating in ditch just outside of Henderson, and you pounced on her the moment she had her shirt over her head. You remember with no small amount of satisfaction the way the words hissed off your tongue, warning her to keep her distance. With a smug look, she threw back in your face the fact that Grissom was the one who voluntarily assigned himself to the case along with her, and what did you make of that? You wasted no time in reminding her that you were trained well; you knew how to make someone disappear and not get caught.

At that point you never imagined you'd leave voluntarily.

*

You had only been gone for two weeks before you went back the first time.

You don't know what possessed you to go, but before you knew it there you were spying on him from across the street as he washed his Tahoe. He had his shirt off and the way his muscles rippled in the hot Nevada sun made you remember things about his body you knew were best forgotten. You almost went back that day. In fact, you'd just reached for the door handle of your rental car when she came bounding out of his front door, two glasses of ice water in hand. You'll never forget the way your heart dropped to your knees when she reached to wipe some suds off his cheek, or the smile he offered her that didn't quite reach his eyes.

He didn't really want her, you could read his body language loud and clear, but you didn't go back.

*

The second time you returned was late autumn a few years later. You hadn't intended to go back, but the job you had required all employees to attend a seminar that just happened to be held there. You remember seeing the location: Las Vegas, Nevada, on your plane ticket and feeling your stomach give a little flop. 'Las Vegas' had become synonymous with 'Gil Grissom' to you.

You took a seat at the bar and ordered an apple martini. It wasn't five minutes later when that familiar voice spoke, sending shivers straight to your core. They were working a case at the hotel you were staying at and he just happened to be the one questioning the bartender. She was there, too, but she was surprisingly quiet through it all, only interjecting every few minutes.

Your back was to them and you almost turned around, but you fought the urge. You just straightened your spine and sat, becoming momentarily lost in the rich timbre of his voice. Your hair had grown out by then, so you knew he wouldn't recognize you from behind. Before he was done asking the bartender about the latest victim in a series of stranglings, you slid down from the barstool and walked away.

As you made your way through the people, his voice followed you across the lobby and up to your room.

*

That last visit made you ache for him in a way you never had before. You didn't sleep that night, choosing instead to lay awake and remember all the things that made you fall in love with him in the first place. The deep blue of his eyes and the way they would light up when he was hot on a case. The way you'd be viewing a specimen through a microscope and he would saunter in, pausing to lean just a little closer to you than protocol permitted.

And then, later, after that first time in his townhouse, and the way he smelled on his days off when he did wear cologne. How you would bury your face in his neck and just breathe because that was all you needed to keep you sane, and how elated you were at the fact that you were allowed to do that now. How his hands felt on your body, exploring and discovering; and then his lips, soft and firm at the same time, always with a purpose.

He worshipped you then, but somehow, in all your selfishness, it wasn't enough. You wanted her out of the picture and when you realized that would never happen, you decided to remove yourself.

You still don't know now what truly possessed you to leave. You could have stayed because he was yours, and she knew that, but a hard spot deep inside your belly always made you wonder if he would ever want to be with her if given the chance. They had a history together and you could not ignore that. You knew he loved you and wanted you, but she was always going to be there, casting a singular shade of doubt throughout your entire relationship.

*

The thing you've always tried to forget, however, happened when you returned the first time. When she reached out to wipe the suds away, how he grabbed her palm and kissed it, then how he bent down and grazed his lips across hers. There was still that smile on his face that wasn't quite real, but the ear-to-ear grin she wore was the only thing you were focused on.

You would like to say that you know for certain he'd never date a co-worker, and therefore would never date her, but you know the truth. After all, he'd dated you, hadn't he?

*

After your second -- and last -- return visit you swore you'd never go back again; so far you've kept your word. Thank God no more required seminars have taken place in Vegas.

Even after everything, you hope that she takes care of him and makes him happy, but you know she'll never love him the same way you did. You know that she'll never be able to make him feel the way you did, and you know she'll never be able to make him happy the way you did.

You were his world. He told you that once when he thought you were sleeping, just a few months into your relationship. He whispered it in your ear and then kissed your shoulder. You were his world, but it still did not stop you from leaving.

And even after everything, you're confident in your beliefs that he's not hers forever, not really. Because you still love him -- you're still in love with him -- and you know in your heart that he would leave her to be with you again if ever he caught a glimpse of golden hair and a flash of blue eyes.