Things change. Lilly doesn't go over to Suite 134 much anymore. Thursdays are spent clothed more often than not, and it's been weeks since she had waffles. It's not because she suddenly hates Indy or is tired of being with him, though.
It's because people occasionally tease Indy about new gray hairs and wrinkles and her hair will be long and blonde and her skin will be smooth and perfect forever. It's because she's seen his apartment and been to his New York but she'll only ever be a visitor there.
Indy moves back and forth between his bar life and his New York life as easily as he shifts from being a teacher to being an explorer, and Lilly drifts from bar to brothel to brief glimpses of other people's worlds and tries not to stare at the door she can't open.
Lilly's spent months ignoring the way Indy looks at her when he thinks she isn't paying attention and the way his voice softens when he calls her Princess. She finds it bitterly ironic that not being able to open her door has forced her to open her eyes.
It's warm in 134 when she walks in, the temperature turned up to help Raph recover. Indy's sitting on the sofa.
"Heya princess," he says distractedly. "Raph's doing a little better, if you were wondering." Lilly nods, perching on the far edge of the sofa.
"Splinter, Leo and Don are still here," Indy continues. "Ya think Mike'll be all right if I'm gone for just a couple of days? I heard from Marcus when I was back in my world, there's a chance to recover the idol. Again."
"Of course," Lilly replies automatically. "It's your life, you have to do what you have to do."
Indy glances over at her with his familiar lopsided grin.
"Wanna come with me, Lil? You know we make a great team."
Lilly takes a deep breath and forces herself to meet his eyes.
"We did once, Indy." She can tell by the way his smile disappears that he knows where she's heading, and oh it hurts to watch but she makes herself keep going. "I don't- I don't think we really do anymore."
There's a long moment of unnatural silence before Indy nods, his face unreadable.
"If that's what you think."
"It is," Lilly manages. She wants desperately to apologize, to explain, to tell him it's going to be better for them both this way, that this was a bad idea from the start and it's her fault it went on so long, that she doesn't hate him and she never could. She just doesn't love him and she has no future in which to make that change. All she has is here and now.
And here and now, she doesn't say a word.
"I guess I should pack," Indy says eventually.
Lilly bites her lip. "Okay. I guess, um. I'll see you around."
Indy nods again, not really looking at her, and she releases her white-knuckled grip on the arm of the sofa, walks out the door and returns to her empty suite.
Things change. People leave. If you can't do either, at least you can let go.