"I want you to leave."

Olivia pushes by me, avoiding my eyes. She's in a hurry, she wants to escape me. It breaks my heart.

But, as much as she wants me to, I can't just let her leave. I need to show her that I have persistence, that I won't run as soon as she pushes me away. I have a lot to prove, a lot of ground to make up, and I know it.

I follow her out the door. She's moving fast, almost running down the hall, heading toward the elevator. Her words – "I don't trust you!" – leap through my mind, unbidden.

I look for an excuse to stop her, but I don't need to find one. She's forced to wait at the elevator doors.

"You know I'm a good worker," I say, grasping at straws. Anything to make her stay.

Please talk to me, is what I'm really saying. Don't give up on me. We can work through this.

"You're a great worker," she relents, turning back to face me. "Okay, I'll write you another letter of recommendation, but you cannot work here." Her voice is firm, cold. She pushes the button for the elevator.

"You don't have any openings?" My words are disguises. I'm not asking about a job: I want to know if there are any openings left for me – for us. I want to know if she will ever let me in again.

"Oh, stop it!" Olivia replies, stamping her foot childishly. She's clutching her files in front of her chest as though they'll protect her from me.

"I…," she looks down uncomfortably and shakes her head. "This isn't about a job, okay? I know what you're thinking. If we work together, I'm going to be reminded of how much I love you."

We lock eyes again, and I want to tell her just how much it means to me that she would say those words to me, after everything I've done. She would have every right to hate me, to yell at me, to ignore me entirely. Instead she has told me she loves me over and over again. I would have fought for her even if she hated me, but knowing she still loves me gives me hope.

Her voice softens again. "Well, I don't need to be reminded. In fact, I don't want to be reminded."

Guilt shoots through me, but I try not to be put off by her rejection. I know this is Olivia's way of testing my commitment to her. She needs to push me away to see if I'll still come for her. But I also know her well enough to realise that forcing the issue now won't get me anywhere.

So I say, "I need a job" when I really mean I need you.

But Olivia seems to decide to take my words at face value. "You're gonna find a job," she replies reassuringly. "You will. You're talented. It's just… not here. It's too hard for me, okay? I need some distance."

"I understand," I say, with a little shrug. "I just…" I take a hesitant step forward. "I really liked working here."

I tilt my head and smile tentatively. Her eyes darken and I feel bolder when she glances down at my lips. She wants me, too.

"You love everywhere that you work," she points out. "It's one of the amazing things about you. You just see things from a beautiful…" she trails off, and I take another step closer, "…place."

The elevator door dings suddenly, startling us both. The sound brings Olivia back to reality, and her expression changes.

"Which is why we can't do this," she concludes, shaking her head. "Good luck with your job search. I know you'll find something."

She turns away and disappears inside the elevator.

"I want you to leave."

I move toward the door, hoping to make it before my resolve disappears. I'm dismayed by how quickly I'm succumbing to Natalia's demands. Where is my self-respect? I should be telling her to never come back. I should be screaming. I have the right.

Instead, slowly but surely, I'm caving.

All it took was one look at her face, the face I've been longing to see for weeks, and I was done. Finished. And, it was – it is – maddening.

I stride down the hall to the elevator, groaning inwardly when I hear her following me. I'm forced to wait at the elevator.

"You know I'm a good worker," she says, challenging me to continue the conversation.

"You're a great worker." I make myself turn and face her again. "Okay, I'll write you another letter of recommendation, but you cannot work here."

I suddenly realise I've forgotten to push the button for the elevator, so I do it now, praying for it to come quickly.

"You don't have any openings?"

"Oh, stop it! I…" I shake my head. "This isn't about a job, okay? I know what you're thinking. If we work together, I'm going to be reminded of how much I love you. Well, I don't need to be reminded. In fact, I don't want to be reminded."

"I need a job," Natalia says, her eyes almost desperate. In spite of myself, I feel a pang of sympathy.

"You're gonna find a job," I reply, my tone instantly gentler. "You will. You're talented. It's just… not here. It's too hard for me, okay? I need some distance."

"I understand. I just…" She takes a step toward me, and I hold my breath. I know I should be angry that she's so blatantly ignoring me, but suddenly I just want her nearer.

"I really liked working here," she continues. She tilts her head and gives me a look that makes me want to forget everything that's happened between us.

"You love everywhere that you work," I answer softly. "It's one of the amazing things about you. You just see things from a beautiful… place."

Oh god. What am I saying? What am I doing?

I stare at her helplessly. Her eyes tell me she knows the power she has over me, and I have to hold back a sigh of defeat. I take a deep breath and try to stop myself from throwing my files on the floor and pushing her against the wall and…

The elevator bell dings and I almost cry with relief.

"Which is why we can't do this," I say, as much to myself as to her. "Good luck with your job search. I know you'll find something."

My voice is cold and professional, and I'm glad for it. I nearly throw myself into the refuge of the elevator. Then I turn and watch Natalia as the doors slowly close. She's lost that look of assuredness. Now she wears an expression of sadness, of pure remorse. I turn away before her face disappears.

Close call.

But, then I hear the door catch and my heart lurches with it. All at once, Natalia is standing in the elevator, looking like even she doesn't know exactly how she found herself there. Before I realise what's happening, the doors have closed behind her and we're alone again.

"Olivia…" She looks at me with sudden purpose. "I don't care about the job."

"I know," I sigh. Of course she doesn't care about the job. She came here to be near me. I knew it the moment she walked through my office door and handed me the files I'd asked Keira to bring.

Natalia steps closer, and I take a corresponding step back. Suddenly the elevator feels stiflingly hot and confining. I long for an escape hatch.

"I just want to be with you again," she murmurs, moving closer again.

She's giving me that new look I've noticed ever since she returned from her retreat, or wherever she hid herself for the last six weeks. She's different now, much more assured, much more assertive. And she's discovered this look, one that she's never given me before, but one that she's put to good use since she returned. It's not the look of a good Catholic girl. There is nothing innocent about it.

Before she left, I would have done anything for her to look at me like this. But now, it's unnerving – it knocks me off-balance just when I need my equilibrium the most.

While my mind races, she does something unexpected. She reaches behind her and very purposefully presses the emergency button. The elevator jerks to a stop. She never once takes her eyes off me.

"What are you doing?" I know the answer – it's written all over her face – but I need to hear it.

Her eyes darken as she moves closer to me. I take another step backward and realise my back is pressed against the wall behind me. I've run out of space. My breath comes shorter as she closes the gap between us.

"I'm so sorry, Olivia," she starts. "I know how much I hurt you."

I hear her voice catch, and a long, shaky exhalation afterward. She's as anxious as I am. The realisation gives me a moment of strength and I hold my back straighter.

"It's not enough," I say, facing her squarely. I see her eyes fill with tears, and I have to force myself not to wrap my arms around her. But it's too easy to give in, to let her dictate the terms. I can't just let her…

Oh god, what is she doing?

My eyes flutter closed as she presses her hand against my stomach. Deftly, she unbuttons my suit jacket and her fingers begin tracing a pattern, lightly, torturously, over my shirt. Out of instinct, I try to move backward again, but all I feel behind me is the wall of the elevator, preventing my escape. Suddenly I feel like the wall is conspiring with Natalia to keep me here, forcing me into the exact situation I've worked so hard to avoid.

Sensing my uncertainty, and her corresponding advantage, she shifts closer. I open my eyes slowly and find myself staring into hers, hooded and needy. I shake my head, even though we both know it's a half-hearted gesture.

"Don't."

I hear the desire in my voice contradicting my demand, and I hate myself for it. Why can't I be strong? Why can't I make myself move away, push the emergency button again, and escape out the door? The option is there – I know it. And so does Natalia. Every second that I don't move away gives her hope that I will forgive her. That we will be able to move on from the mess she created the day she ran away from me. And right now I want that so badly, I can almost taste it.

I feel her hands circling my waist, and I don't even try to pull away. I don't want to anymore. I can no longer deny how much I need her. It doesn't help that I know she feels the same way. In spite of myself, my gaze falls to her lips.

"I've missed you so much," she whispers, and her words make me want to cry. To scream. To laugh. Hysterically. She missed me?

She reads my thoughts in my face. "I'm sorry," she says again.

I can't decide whether she's sorry for disappearing or for what she's doing to me right now. But suddenly, it doesn't matter. I've thought about this moment every night for the last six weeks – months, if I'm being honest – and I couldn't force myself away if I tried. Having Natalia this close to me is intoxicating. It's pleasure, and it's torture. It's everything I've ever wanted, and it's everything I've feared since she reappeared in my life a week ago.

Before I can decide how to react, she tilts her head in that way I love, and shifts nearer, much more assuredly. All at once, I feel her lips pressed against mine, tenderly, tantilisingly. It's bliss.

For a moment, I can forget everything that happened between us. All my anger, hurt, and confusion disappears as I put my arms around her and feel her lips parting against mine. Almost immediately, her tongue begins teasing my lips, and I accept it, pull it into my mouth, taste it. This is more than we both expected, yet neither of us is satisfied. It's as if we've poked a too-small hole in a dam, and we're the water trying to force its way through. I'm torn between wanting more and wanting to save myself.

On a sudden impulse, I push Natalia roughly against the adjacent wall, and I'm gratified when I hear her gasp sharply in response. I don't want to hurt her, but I want her to know what she does to me. What she's done to me.

All at once I know what I need: to be the one in control. I've felt like Natalia has taken that from me ever since she came back, and I'm desperate to reclaim some of it. I press the length of my body against hers and revel in the helpless moan that escapes her. Then, I move one hand down and push up her skirt so that I can explore the skin underneath. I've never done this before, but I have no hesitation, no doubt. I meet her gaze again and am almost undone by the need in her eyes.

But then some instinct, some shred of self-preservation, forces me to halt my hand's progress, and her face registers disappointed frustration. She covers my hand with hers and coaxes it up her thigh again.

"I can't." I push her away and take a few unsteady steps backward.

She looks at me with surprise, but it is quickly replaced with understanding, and I love her all the more for it. She nods resignedly and readjusts her skirt.

"I know," she says. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have forced you…"

She looks down and bites her lip nervously, and once again I have to resist the urge to finish what we began.

But I know this isn't right. This is not something that can be forced. The problems between us have to be worked through slowly, with patience, with time.

"It's okay, Natalia."

I hit the emergency button to start the elevator again, and we assume positions on opposite walls. After what feels like hours, the elevator finally stops and the doors open. I look up and am surprised to discover that she's been staring at me. I try to muster a reassuring smile.

"Good luck." I'm not really sure what I mean.

She hesitates for just a moment, then smiles. "I'll see you soon, Olivia," she murmurs as she passes by me.

I stay in the elevator and watch her cross the lobby. Then, I lean against the wall and look up at the ceiling, in quiet supplication. The doors close, and I feel the elevator begin to lift again to another floor.

God, give me strength…

I've never been one for praying, but suddenly I feel like I need all the help I can get. I don't know what to do. I only know that I can't let Natalia down. As much as I want to push her out of my life, I can't. She's a part of me, whether I like it or not.

An idea occurs to me and I check my watch. 11:30 a.m. I press the button to go back to the lobby again.

Maybe I can catch Alan before he goes to lunch.

The End