NOTE: Lyrics to the song "An Unusual Kiss" by Melissa Etheridge are included in italics. I do not own the song.

"Come on, come on, come on
Over and over
Come on, come on, come on
We all wanted this..."

12:33 pm

"What is up with you?"

He heard it coming from the other side of the room, but faintly enough to brush it off. He couldn't stop staring at the empty desk to the left of him. She was supposed to be here. She was supposed to hear him out. She was supposed to let him say the things he didn't this morning. Without thinking, he picked up the empty glass she kept off to the side. You could still see a light touch of lipstick at the top from when she used it last. He ran his finger around the rim. God, he was horrible. She trusted him. She trusted him, and he ran. He should have stayed for the sunrise. He should have said goodbye instead of "I can't." He should have…

Oh, come off it, Will. Do you remember who you're dealing with?

"Will!"

He jerked back into reality and set the glass back down on the desk. Grace had a look of confusion on her face when he turned to her. "What's up with you?" she asked again.

How much time do you have? he wanted to say. What he would give just to tell her everything. In any other situation, under any other circumstances, he would. But if he let it slip now, if he even began to tell her, she never would have believed her. Hell, it wasn't even plausible to him. If it weren't for the fact that he could actually feel her, the fact that he knew what her skin felt like at three in the morning, he would have been able to let himself believe it was a dream. Something that could only happen in the middle of a deep sleep. And it felt like one of those dreams that shake you so much when you wake up, that it sticks with you hours after the sun breaks into the bedroom. But he was there. He could feel her. It stuck with him hours afterwards, but this time, it was real.

"Did something happen this weekend?" There was concern in Grace's voice when she said this. How was he supposed to answer that? He should have said no to that Valentine's Day ball. But she was alone, and he felt sorry for her. Little did he know it would lead to this.

Will realized he let a decent silence into the room. Grace probably thought Karen somehow humiliated him in front of the ones she supposedly calls friends, in order to save face. In a way, she did—passing him off as an escort at first—but he was well over it. But fine. Let her believe it. It makes more sense than what really happened, anyway.

"I'm fine," he said, the first words he spoke out loud since he stepped into Grace's office. "Where's Karen?"

"Home, I'm guessing. She didn't come into work."

"She's sick?"

"No clue. She didn't call in or anything; she just didn't show up. Typical, right?"

Damn. He did this. He knows he did this. If she were here, they would have to face each other, and there would be no denying the events of the early morning hours. And they wouldn't be able to hide it from Grace. He didn't necessarily blame her. After the way he left, he wouldn't want to talk to him, either.

"So, are you ready to go? I was thinking we could just grab something at that bookstore and café on Crosby."

Lunch. He was supposed to have lunch with Grace right now. Life was supposed to go on like nothing happened. But he just couldn't make it work.

"Actually, I think I have to take a rain check. I just remembered the stack of paperwork on my desk, and I don't want to spend longer than I have to at work." She could buy that, right?

"Okay. I'll just see you when you get back home." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before he left.

Once he was outside the building, Will hailed a cab towards Park Avenue.

He was hoping she was home.

If she pressed her face to it, she could still smell him in the pillow.

Karen hadn't gotten out of bed since she pulled the shades on the window; she couldn't bear to see him ride off in the taxi. And she knew if she went into work today, she would see him, and what would that accomplish? It was best to forget about it. It was her mistake anyway. Her fault. She should never have pulled him into this sordid ordeal she was forced to call her life. She should have insisted on going home on her own.

Better yet, she should have just skipped that damn Valentine's Day gathering.

Everything would have been fine this morning. They would have woken up together and she would have smiled. She would have talked to him in a voice still heavy with sleep and he would have brushed her cheek with his lips. He would have drawn her back into his arms and she would have felt safe.

If only it weren't for that nasty little reminder of the life she actually has, instead of the life she realized she wanted. That phone call that brought them both back to earth, back to reality.

Yes, her husband was away. Yes, she was given permission to do exactly what she did this morning. But she had no right to bring Will down with her.

She looked at the side of the bed he once inhabited. She wondered if he was plagued with the thought of what happened the way she was. God, Karen, get a grip. You saw the way he left. He was anxious to leave, and he had every right to be. She wished she could do that.

She wished she could be more like him.

Karen looked at the clock on her nightstand, as it flashed its signal that the afternoon had officially arrived. It didn't cross her mind to call Grace and let her know she wasn't coming into work, but she wasn't planning on showing up even before everything that happened. She was supposed to visit Stan today, fill him in on the weekend: who was there, what happened, who shared the spotlight dance with her. She just couldn't do it. There was no way she could play that role today.

She drew the pillow he used close to her, buried her face in it. If she closed her eyes, she could picture him, flashback to just a few hours earlier when things weren't complicated and everything felt right.

But how could it be right when she was committed to someone else?

Karen was never the perfect wife, she'll be the first one to admit it. But at the end of the day, she loved Stan, and knew that she picked him for a reason.

Lately, though, she was feeling like she was stuck.

She just never fully realized it until this morning.