"…and then he mailed the letter", I finished breathlessly and buried my face in my hand.

"Oh, Shaney", Becky sighed on the other end of the line.

"I don't know what to think. I don't know what to feel or even what I feel right now. Becky, I think I'm scared."

"But, Shaney, you don't know what the letter says. It could be that he's telling his wife that he's had enough. God knows, he has every right to."

"He's a gentleman, Becky", I replied. "And I mean, his picture should be in the Wikipedia article about what it means to be a gentleman. You have met him, you know how he is. I don't think he would ever consider it acceptable to break up with his wife via letter."

I flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling of my apartment. 'I am doomed', I realized. I was talking to my best friend about my boss, in the middle of the night, and it was not because of work related issues but because he had my stomach and heart up in a twist. 'What have I gotten myself into here?'

Wait, that wasn't my fault.

"What have you gotten me into, Becky!"

"Ah, now, wait a minute." I could hear her puff and move around, probably getting a late night snack. "First of all – yes, Oliver seems to be a true gentleman. Which means he didn't include the divorce papers in the letter but probably rather asked his still-wife to help him resolve the situation in a way that lets them both walk away without any further harm. He needs to do this first, because he would never consider approaching you in any way with his marital status unresolved."

"But what if he asked her to come back? That's the thing that keeps going around and around in my mind. What if he loves her still and wants them to rekindle their relationship?"

"Shane McInerney! Have you got eyes or do you not!"

'Uh, oh.' I was in trouble. Becky only called me by my full name if she was really angry with me.

"Seriously, Shaney, please catch the train to reality land, honey. Oliver O'Toole has feelings for you, it's as obvious as night is dark and day is bright."

If I hadn't been lying on my back, my jaw would have dropped to the floor. As it was, I only made a laughable gurgling sound as I tried to say something. Finally I spluttered: "Why would you even think that?"

Becky laughed. "Your two co-workers, Rita and Norman? Would you say they have feelings for each other?"

"I'm a bit confused why you'd bring them into this, but yes. It's a miracle they haven't caught on the feelings of the other one yet. Beats my why not."

"When I look at you and Oliver", Becky said, "I see the same thing. It's not as obvious as Rita's face lighting up with a smile every time Norman looks at her or Norman staring gooey eyed at Rita when he's thinking about something, but Shane: Oliver sneaks glances at you, consciously or subconsciously, all the time. He got so nervous when I caught him in the Mailbox Grille after our conversation and if he wouldn't care about you, he would have reacted indifferently. He was reading a book about becoming more funny after you had told him that his sense of humor was lacking. Why would he do that if he didn't care for what you thought of him? He ended your dance lessons after a dance that stirred something in both of you and something he wasn't ready to face. When he reports to me about the DLO in our monthly calls, he speaks highly of all of his co-workrs, but when he talks about you, he sometimes stutters and he becomes terribly formal – as if he is trying to cover up something else."

I snapped up from my bed. "What?" I yelled. "Why haven't you said anything to me?"

"Shaney, these feedback meetings are only for department heads and supervisors, you know I can't share anything that's said there. Strictly speaking, you should forget what I just said."

"As if that was a possibility", I snorted, then sank back to the bed. Was it really possible that Oliver did feel for me, something similar to what was wreaking havoc in my own heart? I hadn't dared to entertain the notion, certainly not after the way he had hurt my feelings when he had confessed just using me to become a better dancer for his wayward wife. Well, I hadn't dared to entertain these thoughts consciously, but obviously I was hoping so much for there to be more subconsciously. Otherwise I would have to see a cardiologist for my rapidly beating heart.

When we had danced under the stars at Ellie's and Bobby's wedding, there had been something. I sure felt it, something in Oliver's smile that said that, for just a moment, he was truly happy. No thoughts of Holly, no worries about appearances – he had simply been content with me in his arms. We had been perfect – no misstep, no slipped hand, no hesitation. We had moved as one and I hadn't even had to think about the steps. Oliver was leading so confidently, I had just trusted him, literally every step of the way, and it had been wonderful.

And in the bank vault, when we had read those letters out loud to each other – I couldn't help but remember the many experiences and adventures we had shared over the past six months. Even though I had been scared for my life, Oliver's calm demeanour and his unshaking faith had helped me keep it together until the very end when my emotions were running wild. It had been his touch, his strong arms wrapped around me, that had helped me regain my composure. I had never felt that way – the fear, panic, sadness, and frustration just seeped away and instead a calm and warmth had spread through me. The fact that he had such a power over me shocked me so much I forgot to be afraid.

"Becky", I whispered. "I'm scared. I have fallen for Oliver. I have lost my heart and soul to him and I am not sure if he wants them."