Disclaimer: I neither own Without a Trace or the characters nor do I have any affiliation with it
She lay on the double bed beside him, curled up in his arms, content. He ran his fingers up and down her forearm, inhaling the smell of coconut in her hair. This was her favourite time, after they had made love and before they went their separate ways. She loved him more than she could say, literally. She didn't dare tell him that she was in love.
Even though she hadn't said it, he knew. He knew that she loved him and he knew that she wanted to be with him and love him. And he wanted that too. He wanted to love her. Hold her by his side, just like this, until the end of time.
But they both knew they couldn't. He had a wife, he had kids, and they were important to him. The girls were anyway. His wife was different from the person he had married. Over the years she had become cold and distant.
He knew that that was no excuse for having an affair. He just couldn't help himself. He wanted her so much. Every time he saw her, looked in her eyes, caught sight of her smile, he wanted her even more. Sometimes, when they were at work together, he would sit and watch her from his office. Watch her laughing with colleagues, drinking the coffee that she couldn't function without, getting frustrated when a lead she was working on didn't pan out.
She pulled herself away from him and reached into her handbag. She pulled out her cigarettes and lit two, silently handing him one.
They knew they had to leave soon and head back to work. But neither of them could bring themselves to climb out of the bed. These stolen moments were all they had. Afternoons spent in hotels, midnight phone calls, and glances across the office when they were sure that no one else was watching.
They stubbed out their cigarettes and he pulled her back towards him. They lay close to each other for another half hour.
He kissed her on the forehead and closed his eyes. He thought of how it all began. They were both feeling a little lonely and went for a drink together. They sat with each other for two hours, both feeling so at ease, so happy in each other's company. They stepped into the cold night air and pulled their coats tighter round themselves. She had had a bit of a crush on him for some time, but thought it was unrequited. He, too, thought his crush was one way.
They looked at each other and he walked away from her. She took a deep breath and walked in the opposite direction. She was trying hard to stop thinking about him when she felt a hand on her arm and she was spun around. She found herself looking into his eyes as he pulled her towards him and kissed her passionately, getting more passionate when he felt her kissing him back. They both fell into the kiss, as if it were the easiest thing either of them had ever done. After a moment, they broke apart. They stood staring into each other's eyes, everything they felt for each other threatening to spill out of their mouths. They went to the nearest hotel and fell into bed together.
Afterwards they talked for a long time. Discussing whether this was a one off or the start of something. Neither of them could decide until a week later, when it happened again.
Months later and they were still sneaking around. Not wanting to give each other up, but at the same time not wanting to hurt anybody.
They both felt guilt. Guilt that wouldn't go away, but they couldn't avoid. It was like an addiction they had to each other. They needed each other; needed to feel the elation of being together, the feeling they got inside whenever they saw each other, the way their entire bodies tingled when they touched. It was getting stronger. It was as if they were becoming dependant on each other.
She ran her hand over his chest and lifted her head to look at him. They stared at each other for a minute then kissed.
Silently, they both gave in. They had to get back to work before anyone wondered what was going on.
She climbed out of the bed, gathered her clothes and went into the bathroom. He took a cigarette from her pack and lit it. He knew she wouldn't mind, she never did. He smoked it quickly while he tried to think of the right words. She emerged from the bathroom, having pulled herself together and went around the room, collecting her things.
He resigned himself to the fact that there were no 'right' words and let the first ones he thought of fall from his mouth.
"It's over."
"What?"
He watched her brown eyes fill with sadness and he felt guilty, guiltier than he did about betraying his wife.
"I can't keep doing this. Creeping around, sneaking off to hotels when we get the chance. It's not fair on either of us. And it's not fair on my wife."
She walked over and sat beside him. He lifted his hand and pushed the hair from her eyes. They stared at each other, both resisting the urge to grab the other and never let them go.
She leant against his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her right into his body, then let her go. They kissed, one last kiss and she walked out of the room.
It took all the strength she had to walk from the room, through the hotel and to her car without crying. But the second she was in her car, she couldn't hold it in. She sat in her car for 15 minutes, sobbing harder than ever before.
All the time she was down there, he was at the hotel room window, watching her, his own face stained with tears.