Contains spoilers for the Passport to Romance trilogy. Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to drop me a line, please!

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Maybe he had proposed to her, complete, with scented candles and twelve long-stemmed white roses in an expensive, dimly lit restaurant in Greece, with subsonic music playing in the back, an air of intimacy, and her hand securely clasped in his as if clinging for dear life. She probably would have been dressed in that shimmery blue silk dress that was meant to be worn for her boyfriend – and her boyfriend only – but looking into the sea-green eyes of her potential could-be husband, she must have decided to make an exception.

She probably had stars in her blue eyes, wondering where Mick had been all her life, smiling at the thought of having finally found her soulmate with whom she had such incredibly deep, natural affinity. He would have probably moved closer, so close that their breaths would have been almost commingling. He probably would have touched her lips with his, she probably would have lost herself in his kiss, estranging from her mind all thoughts of her American boyfriend. While her heart was on cloud nine, little did she know that his had sunk to ground zero.

Then Mick had probably opened a little velvet box that had a small but beautiful diamond ring inside it, and in an Aussie-accented baritone, would have proposed to her.

Her hand had probably flung to her mouth, her eyes swimming with happy tears. She would have managed a little nod, he'd have slid the ring that fit her finger ever so perfectly, and then the engaged couple would have kissed, and then they would have gone out and danced under the spangling sky.

Or maybe she had just slapped him hard for having the nerve to propose to her even though he knew she had a boyfriend. Maybe.

Lying spread out on his bed, the thought made Ned Nickerson's lips turn up in a humourless smile. Of course Mick hadn't known about him. Nancy herself would have probably forgotten all about his very existence.

With time, Ned had almost been led to believe that he'd built up immunity against the pain of being knifed in the heart. Nancy had seemed more dazed that he'd have liked ever since she got back from Europe. Their conversations had been one-sized with him talking and her putting on a mask of interest, that he recognised as spurious, to shadow the fact that there was someone else on her mind. And probably in her heart as well.

This time, it had transgressed past the regular hugs and kisses. This time, she had fallen in love. The very thought of losing the girl he loved the most was overwhelmingly fearful. A shadow of familiar pain crossed his eyes at the very picture of someone else holding her, kissing her and stroking her hair and goodness knew what else had happened. Even all of Nancy's apologies since the hurtful encounter two days ago didn't seem to be therapeutic for his severely injured heart.

Now he was off to see her. She had called him the previous night and begged for a chance to explain. He had refused at first. How could he give her a second chance? Why should he give her one? He knew for a fact that if they broke up, he wouldn't be single for long. Solitude wasn't something he was scared of anyway. He was devastatingly good-looking and had previously had several girls openly flirting with him on campus at Emerson. Nancy wasn't the only one who could find someone else. He didn't deserve to have her pulverize his heart so badly time and again. He wouldn't be wrong in completely ignoring her, and most definitely wouldn't be at fault if he didn't give her another chance.

Then why am I giving her one? he wondered silently as he drove to her house, a wave of anticipation swept over him, wanting so much nothing but to see her and hold her in his arms.

The answer was plain and simple. He loved her.

--

Nancy was sitting on her front porch, her heart pounding against her rib cage as she waited for Ned to arrive. She had no idea what she was going to tell him, but she could almost see the exceedingly hurtful expression in his eyes when she told him about Mick that tears were beginning to form in her eyes. She brushed them away impatiently.

She looked up and saw Ned's car stopping in the driveway. Seconds later, the door opened, and when she was able to see his muscular physique, her heart beat twice as furiously as before. She stood up, wrung her hands, her eyes not daring to meet his. He stopped a few feet away from her.

"You wanted to talk?" he said, his voice as hard as industrial steel.

Still not looking him in the eye, Nancy smiled shakily. "Why don't we sit down?" She nodded towards the porch, and swallowed hard. He merely nodded back and sat down, and she tentatively did the same, maintaining a conscious distance between them.

She searched her heart for words to say, but suddenly went blank. Rivulets of perspiration were forming on her forehead, and she fidgeted uncomfortably with everything her hands came into contact with. She could feel his expectant gaze on her, waiting for her to speak, but his eyes felt so trenchant that her skin almost burned. Aware of her overly audible breathing, her lips trembling, she finally whispered, "I'm so sorry, Ned."

It was a routine. She'd apologize; he'd stiffen. She'd cry; he'd tense even more. She'd touch his hand; he'd melt. Then they'd kiss and make up. Not two weeks later, the cycle would repeat. It was a tediously unvarying routine they were both only too familiar with. A vicious circle.

He smirked. "Of course you are," he said, a bit of venom in his voice. "You no longer have Mick, do you? You're probably bored, aren't you?"

His sarcasm made tears sting in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around her knees tightly. "No," she whispered. "I'm sorry for hurting you."

"That's not going to change anything," he suddenly burst out angrily, the façade of coolness that he had sworn to wear was forgotten. "I've heard you say that so many times, but there you go again!" His hands balled into a fist. "Saying that you're sorry isn't going to take the pain away, Nancy."

"I know," she said, taking slow, deep breaths. "I know what a jerk I've been." She swallowed and felt an uncomfortable lump from in her throat. "I never went with the want of falling in love with someone, Ned, honestly." She shut her eyes tightly as though she was inflicting herself with pain. "I didn't go searching for Mick."

"You didn't run away from him either," Ned pointed out, his voice with an edge of barbed wire. "You let yourself fall for him. And I'm sick and tired of pining after you, Nancy." His face was red with rage. "It's obvious you don't need me and –"

She managed a distraught gasp. "Ned, I do need you," she choked, her eyes bloodshot from the tears that were rolling, unchecked, down her face. "I need you so much." She tentatively rested her hand over his, but he pulled away instantly.

"What for?" he asked, a derisive note to his voice. "To hurt? To stab in the heart?"

"No," she cried through heartbroken sobs. "I hate hurting you. I'd never do it purposefully." She bit her lip through tears so hard that she was sure it would bleed.

"Did you think I'd be dancing with joy when you told me that Mick had proposed to you?" he asked, for the first time, pain showing in his voice. "Did you really think it wouldn't hurt to have my girlfriend wrapped in someone else's arms? To know that someone else bent down on one knee in front of her?"

She buried her face in her hands. "I wasn't thinking, Ned," she replied sorrowfully. "I never meant for it go that far." She moved closer to him, just desperately wanting to feel the warmth radiating from his body. Smelling the mild woodsy scent of his aftershave, it took all her willpower to fight the overwhelming urge to bury her face in his strong chest and forget all about their problems. She sniffed. "You're the one I always come back to."

Ned smiled ruefully. "Must I even tell you what is wrong with that sentence?" He looked straight ahead, and an ache shot through his heart. "I don't want you to come back to me, Nancy. I want you to be mine. Only mine." His anger had relented, and he sounded almost gentle.

"Oh, Ned…" A fresh set of tears fell down her face. "I am yours." She tentatively touched his knee. "I want to be yours, Ned. Only yours."

"Then why do you have to fall for someone else?" he asked, sounding heartbroken. "I've given you everything thing I possibly could have. I've always loved you, I've always cared so deeply for you. Why do you even need someone else? Am I not enough?"

"You are, Ned," she sobbed and gently took his face between her hands. "You are."

"Then why do you keep treating me like a consolation prize?" he asked, desperately probing her eyes for some answers. "Why do you treat me like some rotting piece of rubbish?"

Her heart just broke into several million pieces.

"Mick," he spat out when she didn't answer. "Did you love him more than you loved me?"

"I can't ever even think of loving someone more than you," she answered softly. "You mean the world to me, Ned. Nobody has even meant that much to me."

"Maybe I do, Nan," he whispered. "But that still isn't enough. I wish it was, but it isn't. You still keep hurting me so much."

Another silent tear snaked down her cheek. "Are you breaking up with me?" she asked softly.

Ned turned to look at her, a clear conflict of emotions and ambivalence in his eyes. "I don't know what else to do," he answered.

"Please, Ned…"

"It's not that I don't love you," he whispered in a heartbreaking tone. He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. "I do, and that makes it so difficult because I want to be with you more than anything, but I can't put my feelings at risk anymore." His eyes were moistening. "I just wish things were different." He leaned forward and smiling sadly, he whispered, "I love you so much." His voice was as soft and loving as the row of kisses he began pressing down the side of her tear-stained cheek. "I love you."

He stood up.

"Ned, don't go," she begged grabbing his hand. "Please don't go." She searched his eyes for a little warmth and tenderness that she so desperately wanted. A maelstrom of emotions was going through her head. She squeezed his arm pleadingly and choked. "God…Ned, please don't leave me." She looked deep into his eyes and saw unbearable afflict.

Without a moment's hesitation, she threw herself into the haven of warmth and love of his arms, and sobbing uncontrollably, told him repeatedly that she loved him. Ned's strong arms securely cocooned her. Her heart seemingly teetering on a cliff, she went off into a stream of heartbreaking incoherent babbling.

She squeezed him so hard that it almost hurt and cried herself into a state of heightened agitation. Kissing the top of her head, Ned tightened his hold on her, rubbed her back gently, and made soothingly comforting noises all at the right times.

When she pulled away, there was pure contrite in her blue eyes. She touched Ned's cheek gently, and raised her lips to his to meet in an oh-so-familiar achingly bittersweet kiss.

"Do you believe that I love you now?" she asked softly a few seconds later when they pulled apart.

"Nancy…please…we can't do this…"

Ignoring him, she pressed her lips to his again, a little deeper this time. His arms met around her waist as he kissed her back tenderly.

They broke again, a hint of a smile playing of Nancy's lips. "Now?" she asked, her eyes half-lidded.

"Just a little more," he whispered huskily.

The temperature shot up a hundred degrees when his mouth covered hers again. He wove his hands through the silky curtain of her red hair, and she tightly fastened her arms around his neck. Gradually deepening the kiss, his fingers ran lightly down the warm column of her neck. She kissed him back with every fibre of her being, with all the deep-rooted love she had for him in her heart and soul.

They locked arms again, and fell together in a passionate embrace full of the longing of all the time they spent apart.