"Perhaps not," Julian agreed with a sigh. The work had always come first. There had always been something that demanded his attention. Some problem. Something that needed fixing. He could never ignore it and he'd always worked himself harder than was perhaps necessary. Maybe that was why it had been so easy for the other to push him to do more once they realized he was basically a machine. Outside of lunches with Garak and time spent with Miles, a necessity to keep their friendship so that Miles wouldn't go back to looking at him as an unwelcome nuisance, his work had been all he had.
Maybe it had been selfish to, whether consciously or not, prioritize Miles. But Garak had always been steadfast in his friendship, without the fickle expectations the Chief seemed to have. So, it made sense to work harder at the friendship that needed the work, and relax in the one that was easier, almost effortless. Right up until that friendship had been abruptly gone with no sign of how to fix it.
He suddenly felt the way he had when he'd realized that the numbers they'd run - while perfectly logical and accurate - didn't account for realities. Maybe he'd focused on the wrong things because it had made sense, not because it was what he actually wanted.
Julian frowned as Garak tried to shift a measure of blame to himself. "If you had killed Dukat," he said gently, "you would have been killed by the Klingons. Ziyal never would have been found. I would be dead in a Dominion Internment Camp. Miles and Nog would be dead on Empok Nor. The Romulans would never have joined the war. And the Federation would be struggling to decode Cardassian messages. And that's just off the top of my head."
He took a shaking breath as Garak spoke of Jadzia. She'd been the best of them. So kind and brilliant and wonderful and he missed her like a piece of his soul. "She wouldn't want any of us blaming ourselves," he admitted, feeling the grief he'd been fighting coming to the surface. "She'd be furious at all this self-recrimination. She would want us to celebrate her, not...drown in grief and guilt." And yet, he felt like he was sinking in a despair he couldn't escape.
Only to have that shatter at Garak's hand on his cheek jolting him back into himself with an abruptness that caused his breath to catch and his heart to beat rapidly in his chest. He stared at Garak with wide eyes, unable to look away. "I came back and you were different," he said softly. "We were different. And you had Ziyal and...she was so kind and gentle and good and beautiful...I'm ashamed to admit it, but I couldn't stand her. I couldn't stand to see you with her when you couldn't seem to bear being around me. I just...she had a part of you that..." He struggled to find the words, then decided that blunt honesty was best. "I was jealous of her. It's horrible to say, I feel awful even admitting it, but I was. I know you loved her and I'm sorry you lost her. And I'm sorry that I let my feelings get in the way of trying to fix what was between us, but I was so sure that...you didn't want me any more."