. . .

Thud thud. The only sound Mac could hear. Thud thud. The only one he cared about. Thud thud. Softly breaking into the perfect silence of his apartment. Thud thud. Like ticking of a clock. Thud thud. Steady and calm. Thud thud. Almost hypnotizing.

Being so close to be able to hear it was precious enough itself. But actually feeling it, beating against his own chest... Now that was a true wonder. He didn't dare to move, not even so slightly. He breathed as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb her peace. The peace she had finally found in his arms, sleeping soundly in the cradle that his body created for her.

Once or twice during the night she stirred a little and murmured something in her sleep, being clearly in some kind of distress. Going again through what had happened earlier that day. Or maybe even through what had happened over five years ago. Thankfully it didn't take much to calm her down again. He just tightened his grip on her and rocked her like a baby.

He couldn't help but think back to that night. Now he wished he had been stayed even more. Not only because that had been what she wanted. Not even because he had hurt her with leaving her alone. But also because now he knew how holding her while she was sleeping felt like. He wished he had lain next to her and placed his arms around her then. Holding her close. Feeling her completely naked body pressed intimately against his. He wished he had buried his face into her hair, breathing in her smell all night long.

It would have been so little – only being there with her and letting her sense his presence. Yet it seemed like too much effort, it was so much easier to just leave. Her ironic remark about him wanting her to stay at his place tonight being his idea of expiation rang in his ears. She was probably right. Some damages weren't meant to be repaired, leaving the only choice – to admit a mistake and make a promise of never making it again. The most painful lesson life can taught.

He felt how she let out a soft sigh that tingled his skin. He looked down at her. She started to stir slightly, but not with the uneasiness caused by a nightmare. She was waking up, fighting the density of her sleep that didn't want to let go of her and give her back to the reality yet. He watched how her consciousness was slowly coming round. A little dreamy smile played on her lips. Then she sleepily nuzzled her face against his neck and he couldn't help but smile at the feeling. Finally her body became lighter, it tensed a little bit and she made an attempt to free herself from his embrace and pull away from him.

''Don't.'' Mac told her in a quiet voice and he felt how she leaned back against him, her body relaxing again.

She stayed silent for a longer moment, then she sighed lightly and spoke, her voice still hoarse from her sleep, ''I'm sorry for my breakdown last night.''

He wanted to tell her she had nothing to be sorry about, but he got the feeling she wanted to say something more, so he just kept quiet in order not to scare away those words she was just about to share with him. ''It's just... I imagined Leanne's death so many times.'' Jo added in a shaky whisper. ''It keeps tormenting me that she was all alone then.'' Her eyes were fixed at some undefined point in the space and he knew that what she was seeing right now, was the image in her head. ''They took her to the hospital and supported her vital functions, but only because she had an organ donor designation on her driving license. My mama was with her then. When I arrived... she was already...'' She tried to say this dreadful word, but failed miserably. He squeezed her fingers, silently letting her know it wasn't worth putting on struggle to utter it. He knew very well what she was trying to say. ''I didn't even get a chance to see her for the last time.'' She finished with sadness. She made a short pause that two little tears took an advantage of, escaping from beneath her eyelids. She quickly wiped them away and added, ''so when yesterday this girl was bleeding out on the floor... and when I saw her name-tag... I think my mind went crazy, confusing all those images I have in my head with reality.''

Mac nodded silently. He knew all the tricks that the overcome with despair mind could play.

''For a long time I used to accost women on the street. Women that looked like Claire. With strawberry-red, straight, long hair.'' He said quietly. It was something he had never shared with anybody. It was enough for everyone to know about his loss, about his grief. They didn't have to know he had almost lost his mind because of it. ''I mean... I knew she was gone. But every time I saw a woman like that, I had to check...'' She sat up in order to look at him. He turned to face her and met her gaze. The first rays of the morning light reflected in her glossy eyes. ''I guess it's possible for a mind to get dazed by emotions so much, that the knowledge isn't enough.'' He added with a sad smile.

''Yea.'' Jo nodded. She closed her eyes and rubbed her face with her hands like she wanted to get rid of all emotions that were written all over it. Then she sighed deeply. ''I don't know why I still react like that. It's been five years for God's sake. Five long years. I really shouldn't.'' She shook her head. Then she continued in a quiet voice. ''It's so tiring, that sometimes...'' She hesitated for a moment, ''it's really awful, but sometimes I wish... she was never born.'' The last words were only slightly above the whisper. She cast him an unsure glance, like she was afraid he would be shocked. He wasn't. He was the last person to judge. For those past years he had felt the whole range of emotions – from the love so strong he was considering to follow Claire in her death, to the blind hatred that she had dared to leave him alone in this world.

''At some point I wished I'd never met Claire, too. Never fallen in love with her.'' He admitted. ''But I knew it wasn't true. And you know it, too, Jo. It's just another way of the suffering mind to deal with the pain. Another one that isn't really working.'' He added sadly and Jo nodded. ''But now? I don't wish for it anymore. She gave me 12 wonderful years. The best time of my life. She made me happy so many times...'' His voice trailed off and Jo watched in amazement how his eye lit up for a brief moment. ''No, actually she was making me happy constantly.'' He corrected himself and smiled to his thoughts. ''And she made me sorrowful only once. For a lifetime, true. But only once.'' In the past it wouldn't be possible for him to stop himself from going down this road. But now the grief, although it was still there, wasn't so overwhelming and so out of control. He looked at Jo again and smiled lightly. ''After a while I understood it's not worth trying to forget all the good things. I know it's painful to keep them as memories, knowing those moments won't ever happen again. But that's why they have to be memorized.''

She knew he was right. She had pushed this little collection of memories as deep down, as she could. But they were there. She wasn't ready yet to pull them out, take a closer look at every single one of them and then cherish them forever. But she hoped the time when it would be possible, would finally come. If he was saying so, it had to be true.

''Why is it so hard to get over it... Sometimes I think I never will.'' Jo sighed sadly.

''You will.'' He assured her in a calming voice. ''You need a closure. You need to say goodbye, that you didn't get the chance to say.''

''Have you done it?'' Jo asked, looking up at him.

''Yes, last year.'' Mac nodded. For a brief moment he thought about that day when he had gone to the beach and threw two tickets for the opera into the ocean. It was like resigning himself to the fact some things belonged to the past, even though they had never happened. They remained as unrealized plans, unfulfilled dreams.

''Did it bring you peace?'' Jo asked with a quiet hope.

''It did.'' He confirmed. ''Now I'm finally ready to move on. Ready to be happy again.''

''How am I suppose to do it?'' She asked, sounding unusually hopelessly. He put his arm around her and pulled her closer once more. ''How to say goodbye to someone who isn't already here?'' She asked again and placed her head on his shoulder.

''It's not about her hearing it. It's about you saying it.'' Mac whispered.

. . .