"People care about you" Peter expressed, trying not to act like it was the understatement of the world. Care. Try love madly. Desperately. Try love of his pathetic life. He hoped he wasn't actually looking at her as longingly and deliriously as he felt it in his chest. People. Trying to ignore one of those people might be the brother sitting at the other side of Carla's bed. Because then he would have to restrain himself from reaching over her to throttle said brother for touching her. For… NO, flinging it from his brain immediately. Please God, let me not have actually screamed that is what raced through Peter's brain next.

"I know" Carla responded with as much irritation as she could muster. Willing herself to not look at him. She couldn't see his soft brown eyes on her. See the intensity of feelings reflected back at her. Every moment that she oh so secretly held precious. Couldn't let him see how dreadfully she missed him. It was a struggle to keep it up. The façade, that she hated him so viciously. Hating him and loving him, loving him so much it hurt was an endless circle she didn't think she would ever get over. Turning to Daniel, in yet one more attempt to escape those eyes that taunted her resolve, Carla explained "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you looking at me like I was ill. It was fun" She finally couldn't resist a glance at Peter then. And forced back the grin that wanted to take over her face, at the grimace on his. It was true, Daniel was a fun diversion, in typical Carla Connor fashion. About ten percent was true. But really 90% was winding Peter up. She would never admit it to him, but she could admit it to herself. "And I didn't tell you, because it was none of your damn business." She lied to Peter. Lied to his face. Because she nearly had done just that.

Carla let her thoughts wander to that day. THAT mess of a wedding. How the wrong Barlow had interrupted it. Somehow, somewhere in the back of her mind, she always imagined Peter would be the one charging in to stop it. And how she had left Weatherfield in disgrace. Roy's judgments still stinging, even though he had made a last minute bus trip to say goodbye. The misguided thoughts that she would miss that man any less in an unknown town, without their memories painted on every corner. All the times she picked up the phone daring herself to make the call. The time she nearly bought the train ticket to Portsmouth. And then it happened. She ignored the symptoms at first of course. Carla shove eveything under the rug Connor. Until she couldn't any longer, and had her diagnosis, and her heart filled with fear and dread. She could remember like it was yesterday. Picking up her phone and starting to make the call. Ten times. And being a coward. Falling into sobs at how desperately she needed him. In the end, Carla had phoned Roy instead. And he was the only one that knew her secret. Until now.

"Just because what happened in the past doesn't mean I don't care about you" Peter told her, trying to stem the emotions bursting to get out. Carla tried with everything in her not to let it show how much his words meant to her. Peter looked back at her, wrangling with the urge to reach down and kiss her. It didn't matter that she currently was hooked up to an oxygen tube. It mattered even less that his brother was sat right there. The urge was overwhelming, and he tried his best to not let it show, but he was not blessed with the Carla Connor mask, and she could still read him like her favorite book. Her eyes finally fixed on his, as she felt that old familiar ache, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. But Carla was grateful for Daniel's presence. Well the part of her in her head was. She was quite certain he was the only thing keeping her from reaching up to grab Peter by his coat and dragging him down on top of her.

Finally managing to resist her urges and stop staring at Peter's soft lips, Carla entered into a bantering mode she was more comfortable with. But one that could quickly become dangerous. "You didn't bring me grapes. He brought me books and grapes" she challenged Peter.

"You don't like grapes" Peter argued back.

"That is not the point" Carla countered, hating how weak it sounded. She used to be better at this push and pull with Peter. It didn't help that her heart was not in the push at all.

"Not even the seedless one. You don't like the way the skins pop when you bite into them" Peter further explained, as if it were needed.

Carla was at war with herself. Her heart soaring at the thousands of tiny things Peter knew and remembered about her. Her temper flying even higher. "My tastes might have changed. In fact I love grapes now" Carla lied again. Her tastes had not changed one bit. Not for grapes. Not for the red wine she had been trying to stay away from. And certainly not for this stubborn, infuriating, gorgeous man sat to her left.

Carla assured Daniel she was going to be fine. She didn't dare look at Peter. She knew he could still read her as well. After years apart, after pain and heartbreak, after everything, looking into each other's eyes was like looking through clear glass. Daniel awkwardly told Carla he'd visit again. Peter rolled his eyes and offered "she's giving you a get of jail card, you do-do" He couldn't help it. Reading Carla was just second nature to him. While everyone else stared at her with bewilderment, never came close to understanding who she really was, her motives, her true nature was completely clear to him. It rolled off his tongue before he even meant it to. But the cheekiness instantly disappeared from his face, when Daniel bent down to kiss Carla on her forehead. As he fought back the urge to furiously land his fist in Daniel's face, Carla's own face smirked back at him. It was like an arrow right to his heart, as he felt the swelling anger fade away and he gave her a crooked smile.

Carla tried to ignore the feelings stirring in her at his ridiculous smile. He knew what his smile did to her. HE KNEW. And now Daniel had left the room, left her totally alone with Peter. And that smile. "Shouldn't you be going and all," she asked him.

"If you want me to go, just say" Peter responded, secretly hopeful she would somehow ask him to stay. That some part of her wanted him at her side, as much he desperately wanted to be.

His face fell as Carla commanded "Go," with all the strength she had in her. Willing him to hurry.

"I'll be thinking about you," Peter promised her.

Damn him. Damn that stupid man. Damn her stupid weak heart. And damnit she just couldn't let him walk out the door.