Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Authors note: so this is a monster chapter nearly 7000 words! So I get the feeling that some people aren't enjoying this story as much because Dimitri isn't here yet…. Well he is coming I'm just making the bed for him to lie in so to speak… so I'll let you in on a little secret (he will be here by chapter 6). And to the people saying they don't like seeing Rose with so many different people…. There are a million fics with Dimitri as a man whore so why the double standards? For those that are confused it will all become clear trust me. I'm trying to pump out a chapter per day until Dimitri is involved just to keep this story moving, but with ANZAC day coming up this weekend this might be the last chapter for a few days. Anywho feel free to review with your thoughts and if you like the long chapters or want me to break them up a bit. PS for those that don't remember who Joshua is he is the guy that wanted to marry Rose from the keepers. There are some flash backs in this chapter to before Rose was divorced.

Chapter 4

Mondays. Universally despised, always hectic. This morning Rose had already slept through her alarm, waking up instead to the thunder of Eddie's feet up and down the stairs as he hollered back and forth with his buddy Trey, who'd come to give him a ride. Since Rose had already told Eddie she wasn't sure she wanted him riding with Trey, even if the older boy had been driving for almost two years, this was not the best way to wake up.

"Dad lets me."

Yeah, and then there was that. Too tired to argue with him, especially since he'd missed the bus, Rose waved Eddie into Trey's car and watched them pull out of the driveway with her heart lodged firmly in her throat. She was sure Adrian did let Eddie ride with Trey or whoever else he wanted to, so long as it meant Adrian didn't have to take him to school. Whatever made Adrian's life easier. But Rose wasn't going to dwell on that right now.

Halfway through her shower, the water ran cold. "Son of a bitch." She twisted the faucet handle, jiggling it, which sometimes worked. Not today. She finished rinsing her hair, shivering, entire body covered in goose pimples, and didn't even bother to shave her legs.

There'd been a time when it was like asking Eddie to cut off his arms and legs in order to get him to shower, and now it took forever. That was part of the reason why Rose had started setting her alarm for later, to give the aging hot water service time to replenish the supply.

Downstairs, when she pulled open the dishwasher to get a clean coffee cup, she found another surprise. Nothing was clean. Muttering curses under her breath, Rose stabbed the open soap dispenser… only to discover it encrusted with half dissolved soap. She checked the dishes. Wet. Just not clean.

"Dammit." She went to the sink to run the hot water. Barely lukewarm, even twenty minutes after her shower. "Shit. Double shit." Already late for work, she took the time to run downstairs to the basement to make sure that the water heater hadn't exploded or something equally dire. Staring at it, wishing she knew what to look for, Rose knew better than to fiddle with any of the settings. She did notice the small light by the temperature gauge wasn't lit, but maybe it never was. She couldn't remember ever really looking at the hot water service before.

No time to deal with it now. She had to get to work. And, adding to the joy that had begun her Monday, the trip normally took forty minutes took an hour and a half because of an accident. A car had flipped over the guardrails along the deep, V-shaped gully that separated the east- and west bound sections of the rural highway. It had caught halfway down the steep embankment, the front end a crumpled mess. It had caught on fire. There'd been no way to see if anyone was stuck inside, though the ambulance and firetrucks had given her hope that even if there had been, there wasn't anymore. Traffic had backed up a lot and was moving slow, rubbernecking. Rose had been stuck inching along the accident site for a good ten minutes before reaching the opposite side and being able to speed up.

Ten minutes wasn't so long, but by the end of it, she'd been sweating. Her hands shaking. Her breath catching hard in her throat, like needles in her lungs. In the rear view mirror, her eyes were wide and dark, the pupils dilated to cover her irises.

At work, she sat in the parking lot for another five minutes longer than necessary in order to get herself under control. In the office, she went directly to the restroom so she could splash her face with cold water, which had her remembering the frigid shower from this morning. Frustration, at least was better than fear.

Despite the mornings rough start, the day itself went smoothly. It almost always did. Sitting for hours in front of a computer, editing zits and wrinkles, listening to music or audiobooks on her ipod… it certainly wasn't the sort of job Rose had ever imagined for herself, but it suited her. Her manager was nice and accommodating, and you couldn't beat the hours. Four ten-hour days a week. Adrian liked to snark at her for that…. But again, Rose put that memory aside. It no longer mattered what Adrian thought and hadn't for a long time.

Today's queue of photos was the easiest she'd had for weeks. The customers were all dresses appropriately, nobody had any weird requests and the packages they wanted to order were all standard. Rose worked her way steadily through the jobs, one after another. She worded so efficiently that, despite arriving late, she finished her queue early, and rather than stay and fuck around waiting for more jobs to show up, she decided to leave early.

She called Eddie on her way home, but typically he didn't answer. Nor to her text, which did annoy her, though it was possible he was out running, not just ignoring her. Benefit of the doubt, Rose told herself. Give him the benefit of the doubt. She called Adrian next, already wincing at the sound of his voice.

"What?" Adrian said.

She shouldn't be offended- it was how he always answered the phone, for anyone but his boss. Even his mother had been subject to his lack of phone etiquette. Rose had never heard him answer a call from Sydney, though. Maybe she got the princess treatment. God knew she did with everything else.

"Is Eddie with you? I can swing by and pick him up on my way home. I'm getting out now."

"Why are you getting out now?"

She owed him no explanations, Rose reminded herself, but didn't mean she had to be a total douche canoe to him about everything as a matter of course either. "I finished early. Is he there?"

"Sydney took him shopping."

"Oh." Rose paused. "Well, I have some errands to run. I can swing by and get him when I'm finished, If she doesn't want to bring him all the way to my place on her way home."

"I'll have her text you."

Rose sighed. They disconnected without saying much of anything else and for a moment, melancholy, Rose tried to remember when they'd loved each other. She couldn't really. Everything that had happened since coloured all the good memories in shades of black.

Her errands didn't take as long as she expected, which was why she was surprised to pull into the drive and find the blaze of lights in the house and the front door half-open. Irritated, Rose yanked it shut behind her. "Eddie!"

"he's upstairs," Adrian said from the kitchen, where he sat at her table with one of her diet sodas and a pile of her mail, along with her latest issue of entertainment weekly.

She hadn't seen his car, dammit, forgetting he preferred to park along the opposite side of the street so he didn't have to back out of the driveway. She hated the sight of Adrian in her kitchen- which had once been his kitchen, that was true enough. But by the end she'd hated the sight of him in it then too. "Did he eat?"

"Yeah. Sydney made pot roast." Adrian drained the last of the soda and put the empty can back on the table, then tossed the magazine onto the pile of mail.

Of course she did. Rose gave a tight lipped smile. "Great. Thanks for bringing him home."

Adrian pulled something from his back pocket- a piece of paper he'd folded into thirds. He flattened it on the table and pushed it in her direction. "Here."

"What's that?" Rose asked warily, not taking it.

"I brought over a spreadsheet."

"Of what?" she crossed her arms, keeping her expression carefully neutral. Adrian had always been fond of spreadsheets.

"Of expenses."

Rose's eyebrows rose. "Expenses? For what?"

"Eddie," Adrian said, and Rose's jaw dropped. "I've been keeping track."

Now she took the paper and looked over it. True to form, Adrian had made columns for medical expenses, sports equipment, orthodontia, clothes, school supplies…. And gifts. Rose looked at him. "You have to be fucking kidding me."

Adrian looked pained. "Rose."

"You keep track of how much you spend on gifts. For your son." Her lip curled.

They'd hammered out a lot of details in the divorce settlement. Argued over who got to keep the china and how long Rose would remain on his account with Pegasus Airlines so she could get free travel. She'd fought hard for that one. But they hadn't set up anything specific regarding child support for Eddie, mostly because the original plan had been that each of them would be responsible for whatever arose while he was with each of them, and they'd share major expenses. Rose simply tried to take care of whatever Eddie needed, only going to Adrian for stuff like the braces that had come off last year. Like the ski trip Eddie had wanted to take last Christmas break that had turned out to be twice as expensive as she'd planned for.

Adrian gave her a look. "Of course. I just wanted to show you…"

Rose crumpled the paper in her hands, then thought better of it. She smoothed it out. Folded it. Handed it back to him. "What's your point, Adrian?"

"I just dropped a couple hundred bucks on him for gear. New shoes. He needed new clothes too." Adrian paused. "Sydney made sure he had everything he needed."

Sydney, who matched her shoes to her belts to her purses. Who got her nails done every week. Hair too. "Please tell Sydney I said thanks."

Adrian blinked. "I estimated your expenses too."

Rose set her jaw at that, willing herself not to totally lose her shit all over him, but already knowing she was about to blow. "And?"

"Just wanted to share with you, that's all."

"Because you want to show me up."

Adrian frowned. "That's not what I want."

"No?" Rose waved a dismissive hand. "Really? Then what's this spreadsheet about, Adrian?

But she knew what it was about, without him even having to respond. Adrian was trying to prove to her in his underhand way that he was as much a parent to Eddie as she was. That just because she did the majority of the day-to-day stuff didn't mean he didn't do his share too- the money he'd spent evidence of his parenting. Typical Adrian.

Before he could answer, and she could see his desire to reply in every line of his face, Eddie, wrapped in a towel, hair wet, expression stormy, came into the kitchen. Rose raised her eyebrows.

"There's no hot water."

"Shit," she said with a sigh. "I'd hoped it was just temporary."

"Something wrong with you hot water service?" Adrian asked.

"Maybe." To Eddie, she said, "Just do a pits and privates until I can take a look at it, okay?"

Adrian was already getting up. Never mind that he hadn't lived here in eight years, and that when he had, he'd been gone so often on business that Rose had been the one to take care of everything around the house anyway. "I'll take a look at it."

"You don't have to-"

But he was already heading to the basement while Eddie stomped back upstairs. Rose gritted her teeth and followed her ex-husband down stairs to the small utility room that enclosed the furnace and hot water system. As soon as he opened the door, Adrian recoiled, lifting his feet as though he'd stepped in dog shit. But it was water. Rose heard the squish of it from where she stood, and she almost laughed at the look on Adrian's face when he turned to look at her.

"You have a leak." He said as though it were a personal affront.

"That would explain why we didn't have any hot water."

Adrian squished his way to the hot water service and bent to study it. "Grab me a torch, would you?"

"I said I could take care of it."

He looked over his shoulder at her. "Obviously you can't"

There was a time when he'd been able to read her. When he'd known her. Rose couldn't recall exactly when that had changed, but it was never more obvious than in this moment when she was almost ready to punch his junk, and all he could do was give her a condescending sneer. "Get out," she said. "I'll call a plumber. I have a wet vac. I will handle this."

"I'm trying to help you."

"I don't need your help." Rose crossed her arms and stepped back to let him pass. "I can handle it, whether you think so or not."

"Don't get all bent out of shape. I'm just trying to help you-"

"We're not married anymore, Adrian." Rose could no longer keep her voice steady and even, and she knew it was only going to give him more ammunition to accuse her of being overemotional- something he'd done a whole hell of a lot during their last days. "This isn't your responsibility, and I wouldn't want you to throw it in my face later. Really, I can handle it."

"Fine." Adrian dusted off his hands and pushed past her. Muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'stubborn bitch' under his breath. She'd been called worse.

Rose followed him up the stairs and into the kitchen, leaving him in there and not bothering to look back when he called after her. Halfway up the stairs she heard the front door open and close. She knocked lightly on Eddie's door, waiting until he answered before she opened it. She had to shove the door against a pile of dirty laundry, but ignored it for now.

"Hey."

Eddie's desk overflowed with miscellaneous junk, but he sat at it anyway. Bent over a sketch pad he closed when she came in, he shoved it under a pile of other things and twisted to look at her. He resembled Adrian more than ever when he scowled.

"I can take all the stuff back," he said. "Sydney's the one who wanted to buy it all."

"I figured." Rose looked around the room, then leaned against the bedpost. "You don't have to. Your dad can afford it."

Eddie nodded, his mouth still turned down. "Okay."

She wasn't making it much better. "I'm sorry you heard us fighting about it. It's not about you, Eddie. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, whatever." He turned back to his desk, but didn't pull out the sketchbook or anything else. He just sat. dismissing her.

"Eddie." He didn't turn. Rose sighed. She moved closer to put her hand on his unyielding shoulder. She squeezed gently but said nothing else. Eddie sighed heavily. A few years ago, their dog, Mr Chips, had died of old age, at home with his head on Eddie's lap. That had been the last time she could remember her son crying or allowing her to hug him close- he'd grown taller than her in the interim years. And distant. He was becoming more of a stranger to her every day, and she didn't quite know how to stop it. "No matter what happens between me and your dad, you know both of us still love you."

"Yeah."

Rose let go of him. "I could use your help in the basement, buddy. Can you come down, please?"

He nodded, still not looking at her. Rose didn't push it. Instead, she put in a call to her neighbours to get the name of the plumber they'd used when removing their bathroom. She called home depot to get the prices of hot water systems, as well as information on their delivery and installation services. And then she went downstairs, hooked up the shop vac and started cleaning up all the mess.

-FLYING-

The only real, true time travel occurs in the mind. Scents and music and flavours make memories so vivid it's like being there all over again. This time, it was the sound of her name in a voice that had once been familiar but which she hadn't heard in a really long time. "Rose?"

It's almost impossible not to turn around when someone says your name, kind of like the way most people will automatically take something if it's thrust toward their hands. Rose wasn't used to hearing her name shouted in a crowd, so she'd have turned even if it had been meant for someone else. Her heart was already pounding.

"Joshua. Hi." Her mouth stretched into a smile she knew was too wide. "Wow."

He was smiling too. "Yeah. Wow. It's been a really long time."

Rose could have counted the length of it in months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, actually, though admitting it would probably freak him out. It had been too long. Or maybe not long enough. The way her pulse leaped and her stomach twisted, she couldn't be sure if she was happy to see him or ready to run away. "Too long," Joshua said after a few seconds passed, Rose unable to speak.

"Yes," She managed, relieved her voice didn't shake. "Way too long. How've you been?"

"Good. I've been good. How are you? You look… great."

Her breath tried to catch in her throat, and she forced a swallow instead. Once upon a time, he'd said other things to her that made it hard to breathe. Time had passed. They would pretend it hadn't happened; they'd been good at that. But she remembered.

"You too."

They stared for too long. Stood a little too close for long-lost strangers bumping into each other in front of the coffee shop. He wore the same cologne, and it still twisted her up tight and complicated inside. "Let's go in," Joshua said. "Let me buy you a coffee."

Coffee. Lunch. That's all it had ever been with them. And once, just once, a conversation in the rain.

The day was bright and clear today with a perfect fall sky, blue and cloudless. Rose wore a short skirt with patterned tights and knee-high boots, a light jacket. She'd dressed this morning in anticipation of cooler weather, but all of a sudden she was far too warm. She had errands to run, places to be, tings to do. "let's go," She said.

It starts in a coffee shop in the next town, the one she started going to specifically so she could avoid her friends and get out of the house at the same time, away from anything that reminded her of her failing marriage. It's where she goes with her laptop and notebook to sit for hours and make lists and submit her resume to dozens of places she hopes won't hire her. She sits and drinks cup after cup of coffee and makes herself look busy so she can convince herself she is.

There's a regular crowd in the coffee shop. There's the woman who sits by the window, typing away and listening to her ipod- she writes books and is, if it's possible, even more antisocial than Rose. There's a man who stares at the woman when she's not looking; Rose wonders how long it will take him to work up the courage to talk to her. There's a young mother who comes in every morning with her toddler son to drink a cup of coffee while he has some hot chocolate. Rose will never talk to her. The bible club, it's members in matching home-seven dresses and prayer cups, would probably love to have her join them, but Rose's so completely not religious she's also certain she'd offend them all without even trying. There's the sales guy who fills the orders for potato salad. He smiles and nods, but doesn't linger. He, like the staff behind the counter, is friendly but too busy to make much conversation.

Finally there's Joshua, who at first comes in for lunch once a week. Then twice. Then three times, until finally he is there every day and somehow, they are sharing a table and laughing about… well, whatever he says to make her laugh. And it becomes this thing Rose refuses to name. This… friendship. Because that's all it is, she tells herself every day when she wakes up thinking about him, and every night when his face is what she thinks of when she closes her eyes and pretends to sleep. It's a friendship. If Joshua didn't have a penis, this wouldn't even be an issue.

It's been so long since Rose laughed, really laughed. Before she knows it, she's looking up every time the bell over the door jingles. When the hands on her watch creep toward noon, her palms start to sweat and her heart to pound. Every day she assumes it's the last time he'll come in. sometimes he's late and everything inside her goes dark. A weight lifts off her every time Joshua comes through the door.

He only has an hour for lunch, and soon that's not enough. Rose believes Connex is the devil, but Joshua loves it and 'friends' her anyway. She doesn't have much on her profile and hasn't updated in close to a year, though she tries to check in once a week or so to make sure Eddie's not getting into trouble there. Joshua has a lot of pictures, an active wall. Rose stalks his profile, checking out the photos of him at the beach, skiing, dressed for a holiday party. She looks at pictures of him and his family. Two daughters. A wife, now ex, and a dog. Joshua was part of a family, and this somehow comforts her. He can understand the challenges of a spouse and kids.

She tells Adrian nothing, and why should she? She doesn't tell him anything about her girlfriends, or the other people at the coffee shop. Actually, she doesn't tell Adrian much of anything anymore. He doesn't ask.

Rose find work, finally, which means no more coffee shop. She'd taken a basic college course on photo-editing programs on a whim, and the job at the Memory Factory is perfect. Retouching pictures taken for church bulletins isn't what she'd ever imagined herself doing, but with a school-age child and a husband who works sixty hours a week and travels too, she can't go back to being a flight attendant. The hours and money make up for the slightly condescending way Adrian talks about it as a throwaway job.

She also has unlimited access to the internet, all day long, and an instant- message does Joshua. This is even better than their single, daily hour. They talk all day long, and even when they're not actively chatting, looking at her contact window and seeing his screen name there is like a touchstone. He's there if she needs him. And, oh Rose needs him.

She needs the jolt he gives with every flirty comment and the small, secret jokes they've created that would mean nothing to anyone else. She needs his perspective on the world because it's different than hers, and even though they disagree on politics and religion, they never argue. He makes her think. He makes her feel, and it's been so long since she's had anything but agony or numbness that at first she doesn't recognise what it is that Joshua gives her. Joy.

He doesn't know her, so there are no reminders of the past she needs to forget. No stilted conversations steeped in pity. All Joshua gives her is joy, and that's what she need the most.

Rose knows this… thing… is wrong. But Joshua makes her feel as if everything will be alright. As if she hasn't been through what she has. He makes her feel smart and funny. And sexy, yes. There's that. The giddy, floaty, heated rush of knowing someone finds her attractive. She needs that too.

Everything about them together is dishonest, but it's the only thing in her life that feels like the truth. "Can I call you?" he asks. "I miss talking to you in person. Hearing your voice." Joshua lives alone. Shared custody means he has daddy duty only a few days of the week. The rest of his time is his own. Rose doesn't have that luxury. She has to think about when she can sneak in a late-night phone call. When she can fit him in around the rest of her life. There's something special about the phone that makes it different than typing instant messages or even texts. Somehow talking on the phone is both more anonymous and intimate than even meeting in person in the coffee shop, in public, where they watch their words and are always so very, very careful not to touch.

"Why do you keep talking to me?" Rose asks him late one night when, feigning an upset stomach, she's sought the dark and quiet of the couch in the basement rec. room. She stretches on the chilly leather, reaching for a blanket to warm her.

"I don't know. Sometimes I tell myself I shouldn't." but he does. Over and over again, he comes back to her, and there is never any reason why they shouldn't continue this friendship other than that both of them know it's becoming more than that. It was already more than that before they ever spoke on the phone. They very specifically do not meet in person. They very carefully do not talk about why.

He complains about his ex-wife, but Rose is carefully, neutrally quiet about her husband. There are things she could complain about, if she wanted, but if she did that, other truths would come out. Things she doesn't want to talk about, not even to Joshua. Perhaps especially not to him, because once he knew the truth, there will be no unknowing it. Sometimes things slip out, though. You can't talk to someone almost every day for hours at a time without them learning the most important bits and pieces of you, especially in the darkest parts of the night when it's so easy to feel alone.

"I miss you," Joshua says abruptly when the silence has stretched too long. "I miss seeing you."

"I miss seeing you too." She closes her eyes against the sudden relief of a fear she hadn't wanted to admit she had.

"Maybe we should have lunch sometime."

She should say no, but what comes out is "Yes. I'd like that."

"It was great seeing you. Catching up." Joshua's gaze lingered on hers, and Rose let it. They'd spent the hour she would've spent shopping lingering over their coffees and a couple very good blueberry scones he'd bought without asking her if she wanted one. He'd just remembered how much she liked them. His knee had nudged hers occasionally under the table, and once when handing her a napkin his fingers had brushed hers.

There was a time shed wanted him so much it had been like fire inside her, consuming every thought. And now… now Rose thought as they stood sort of awkwardly by her car, each of them hesitating about a final hug… now, she didn't want him anymore. That made her sadder than anything else. Once she'd been put to her knees because of the man in front of her, and it had been a place she'd willingly gone, but in the end it had broken her, just the same. She had wanted him, now she did not.

When he pulled her close, she let him, startled but not resisting. When his mouth found her cheek, Rose closed her eyes and breathed his scent. The warmth of his skin on hers was familiar. The weight of his hands on her. When he let her go, she swayed, unsteady for a few seconds before she could open her eyes. "It was good seeing you," Joshua said in a low voice. "I've really missed you."

Rose had not missed him. Not for a long time. But she smiled and reached to squeeze his arm. "Me too."

"Maybe I could call you?"

"Sure. Absolutely." She nodded, smiling, a little taken aback by how this all had gone. He could call her. She would answer. It might get awkward, depending on what he said or asked her, but she didn't have the heart to tell him no.

On impulse, she leaned in to hug him again, this time holding tighter. Joshua had been there when she'd needed someone. Maybe he needed someone now.

"Call me," She said and scribbled her number on a scrap of paper from her pocket. "That would be great."

The awkward brush of his mouth on hers would once have made her shake; now it only made her smile. She touched his face and took a few steps back. Joshua nodded, lips parted as though he meant to say more but didn't. He looked back at her as he walked away, though. Waved. Rose waved back. In her car she sat a few minutes, thinking of how easily things could change even if it didn't feel easy at all while you were in them.

-FLYING-

"Knock, Knock."

Rose looked up to see Lissa rapping on the soft edge of the cubicle. "Hey."

"What're you doing tonight?"

"Nothing." Rose swivelled in her chair. "Eddie's with his dad tonight through the weekend."

"Want to go check out the new Justin Ross movie? Christian told me he'd rather poke out both eyes with chopsticks than go." Lissa grinned.

Rose hesitated, thinking about the empty house, the laundry she'd planned to do. Cleaning the fridge. Paying bills. She was flying over the weekend, but not tonight. She had no plans. "Yes. That sounds great!"

"Dinner first?"

"Definitely." Rose returned Lissa's grin.

They went to dinner at a new Italian restaurant that Rose had heard about but never tried. As she settled into her seat and put the napkin on her lap, Rose realised how long it had been since she'd even gone out with a friend. How long it had been since she'd even really hung out and talked with her best friend. "Wow." She said without meaning to.

"What?" Lissa asked looking up from the menu. "You don't like what they serve here? We can go someplace else-"

"No. Not that. It's just that it's been a while since I went out." Rose held up a hand at the look on Lissa's face. "I told you, I'm fine without a boyfriend. I meant with a friend. It's like I haven't heard from any of them in forever." She fell silent for a moment, remembering. "I guess I haven't really missed any of them and I see you every day at work."

The women she'd bonded with in the neighbourhood play group, the wives of Adrian's friends. Those were the women she'd spend most of her time with if she wasn't with Lissa. They'd had coffee and dinner at each other's houses. Watched each other's kids. Bitched about their husbands and kids. But had she ever really been friends with any of those women? Real, strong friendships last through good times and bad, and there'd been some very, very bad times. Rose looked at Liss. "I guess I lost more than I thought in the divorce."

Lissa frowned. "That sucks."

"It's okay." Rose shrugged. "Honestly, I really did just notice now how long it's been since I had, like, a ladies' night out, which says a lot more about me than anything else so thanks for dragging me along."

"No problem. Glad I could finally get you out of the house. And to see Justin Ross no less, Christian wouldn't come but I'll bet he's waiting for me when I get home, though. Hoping he'll get secondhand lucky.

Rose snorted. "And all I have at home is a pile of dirty laundry." Before Lissa could say anything Rose held up a hand. "Hush!"

"He has a few cute friends," Lissa said, then held up her hands at Rose's expression. "Okay, okay. I'll stop."

Dinner was good. The movie, even better. "Have fun tonight." She teased Lissa as they both got in their cars in the parking lot.

Lissa gave her a starry-eyed grin. "Oh… I will. I definitely will."

Rose's phone beeped just as she pulled into traffic, but she didn't reach to pull it from her bag to check the message. She never checked her phone while driving. Even Eddie knew it, and was unlikely to go off again if she didn't answer right away, so when the phone chimed again, Rose glanced at he bag on the front seat, then the clock. It was just past 10:30. On a Thursday night Adrian would be in bed already. Sydney would only text if there was a problem, and even then she would be more likely to call.

At the third chime, Rose's hands started to sweat. She gripped the wheel harder, staring down the dark highway, no traffic lights to give her pause. She had another twenty minutes to go and when the phone chimed a fourth and fifth time she pulled over to answer it. The messages were a string of casual conversation ending with 'give me a ring when you have a chance.' They had come from Joshua. At first she was relieved it wasn't an emergency, then a little annoyed that she had pulled over and finally as she pulled back into the traffic she realised that she was anxious.

Confused. Anxious. A little excited. But mostly wary, she thought as she dropped her keys in the bowl on the kitchen counter and hung up her coat. She put her phone on the table while she poured herself a glass of water. She eyed as she leaned against the counter to drink. It was Joshua, for goodness' sake.

She had told him to call her. But she hadn't been thinking of him at all like she used to. And she hadn't expected him to contact her so soon, or at all, and now that he had it was up to her to return it. Or not.

Still thinking about it Rose took the phone upstairs and settled it into the charging doc. She showered and got ready for bed, taking her time. She slipped into bed and turned on her side to stare at the dark, square shape of the phone. It was reprimanding her. Not replying to a message was one of the shittiest things to do to someone. She'd always thought that. Not simply, not replying right away, but not replying at all, ever. Toward the end of their marriage Adrian had started ignoring her messages, and it had driven her insane. Joshua always answered her messages… until he'd stopped.

They have ordered food, but Rose can't eat. She pushes the food around with her fork and drinks too much iced tea, but her stomach's too jumpy to put any food in it. Joshua asked to meet her at a chain restaurant where you can create your own dish. It doesn't matter how many days they've already spent eating lunch together, or how many hours they've spent talking on the computer and phone. This feels different. It is different, she reminds herself as Joshua tells her a funny story she finds herself incapable of laughing at. Her face is frozen, her fingers clumsy enough to knock her silverware to the floor. She reaches for it at the same time Joshua does. His hand takes hers. He squeezes her fingers, and they both sit up. Facing each other across the small, intimate table for two. It's a lovers table, though that isn't what they are. "Hey," Joshua says. "Are you alright?"

She's not. Her hands still shake so much that she tucks them in her lap, linking her fingers to keep them still. She manages a smile she hopes doesn't make him recoil. "Yes, sure. Of course."

Joshua carries the conversation all through lunch, and at the end of it asks if she wants to go for a walk with him along the river. The weather's nice, not too hot. A little breezy. It whips her hair around her face as they follow the black curving path down toward the water. The river's high right now, covering most of the concrete steps leading to it. She's seen it low enough to expose them all. That's what she's thinking about so she doesn't have to think about the way Joshua takes her hand as they walk. The height of the water in the river, how fast it flows. What would happen if she went in? would she be swept away?

He holds her hand long enough to tug her to a stop, turning to face her. "Rose." She can't look at him. Past him. Beyond him. Anywhere but into his eyes. "Hey," Joshua says. "Please look at me." She does and it's not as bad as she thought it would be. It's worse.

So much worse to look into his eyes and see the lines in the corners. To lose herself in the way he tilts his head slightly to the side as he studies her. To note the curve of his mouth and the flash of his tongue inside it when he talks. "What is this?" Rose asks suddenly, interrupting whatever it was he had started to say. Before he can say anything else, she keeps going. "What are we doing? What do you want, Joshua?"

He's silent for a moment white the river breeze ruffles the light jacket he's wearing. When it looks as though he's going to reach for her, Rose takes a step back. Joshua's brow furrows, but he lets his hands fall back to his sides. "I don't know." He sounds sincere. "I just like to be with you, Rose." It's the nicest and worst thing anyone has ever said to her, both at the same time. The look of sudden longing on his face slumps her shoulders. Tightens her throat. It makes her want to leap into his arms and cover his face with kisses…. It makes her want to run away from him and never look back.

"I like to be with you too." She says in a thick, choked voice that embarrasses her.

"Can we sit?" Joshua points to a metal bench overlooking the water. They sit. Neither of them touching each other. She wants to touch him so much. "Look." He says finally, after long minutes in which neither of them speaks. "I know this is one of those things that is supposed to be wrong. But it doesn't feel that way. Does it."

He makes it a statement, not a question, but she'd have answered the same way even if he had. "No. It should. I want it to."

For a moment, Joshua looks unsure and sad. Then he nods, as though her reply has made something clear that had previously been cloudy. "Do you want me not to call you anymore, Rose?" that's not what she was expecting him to say. She doesn't want to hear it as the thought of never talking to or seeing Joshua again… that's when she realises this has gone too far. She gets up on numb legs and takes a stumbling step away from him.

Her voice far away and cold. "Yes," she says. "Yes, I think that would be best." He looks stunned. Then he get up off the bench. Neutrality slides across his face, shutting her out. She can't let herself be upset.

He nods once, sharply. "Right. Okay, then. Well, Rose, thanks for lunch and…. Good… luck, I guess."

"Goodbye." Rose says, and does not offer her hand. She watches him walk away, his back straight, shoulder square. There is a moment when she sees herself run after him so clearly it takes her a minute to realise that she hasn't moved.

Hey

Rose typed quickly in the dark without letting herself think too hard about anything.

Got your message, but it's too late to call. I'll talk to you tomorrow, if you're free.

She settled her phone back on the dock and wriggled deeper into her pillows and blankets, her eyes at last closing. She was just drifting off to sleep when her phone lit up- it didn't make a noise because of her Do Not Disturb settings, but the glare tickled her eyelids enough to wake her. She already knew who it was before she rolled to check. But even so, she smiled at the sight of Joshua's name.

Looking forward to it.