When Alex called from the police station I thought it was a joke.

"I've been arrested," she'd claimed and I actually laughed. I rolled my eyes and laughed.

"Yeah, right." I said flippantly, waiting on her to tell me the real reason she'd taken so long to call.

"I'm serious," she replied and that time I heard what I hadn't the first time. The tremble in her words. The worry and the fear.

The things I'd been starting to feel only a few minutes ago when I hadn't heard from her even though I knew her flight had landed hours ago. I'd started to worry that something had happened, that she'd been in some sort of accident or that she was still mad at me for not breaking up with Larry yet.

I never pictured this.

I should have, but ever since Alex had told me what she does for a living I'd pushed it to the side, pretended it wasn't a big deal. Told myself she wasn't a huge part of it and that she wasn't in deep, when she was. The little people don't get to fly all around the world in first class seats. The little people don't get phone calls in the middle of the night that they have to take – no matter what. They don't sit up all night stressing out over the next big shipment. I knew all this. Deep down I knew but I didn't want to face it and now I had to.

"I- I… what?" I didn't know what to say. This wasn't a call I'd ever had before. I didn't know how I was supposed to react. Part of me still thought it couldn't really be true. It couldn't be. "Why?" I asked, hoping that she'd hear that she was freaking me out and quit playing.

"Why do you think?" Her words had an unpleasant bite and it stung. "They picked me up at the airport. Brought me here for questioning." She took in a long, deep breath that shook when she exhaled. I didn't need to see her face to know she was scared and that in turn scared me. "I can't fucking believe this."

A sickening feeling was rising in my stomach as it became obvious that no matter how badly I wanted it to be, this was no joke. But maybe everything would be okay. Maybe this was all a big misunderstanding and she'd be out in a few hours. "They haven't charged me yet but according to my lawyer they're about to and then I'll probably be sent to the nearest prison."

"What are they charging you with?"

"Conspiracy to import heroin."

Hearing it out loud like that made it feel very real. I felt like I was either going to throw up or burst into tears. "Shit."

"Yeah. Shit… If they convict me I could be going away for between eight and twenty years." She took another deep breath and I could swear I heard her voice crack. Like she was either crying right now or was about to. I'd never seen or heard her cry before so I couldn't know for sure. "In other words, I'm fucked, Pipes. Completely fucking fucked."

Someone had knocked the air out of me - that's what it felt like. Like someone had just come up and punched me square in the chest, removing all trace of oxygen from my lungs. I reached out to the sofa and sat down before my jelly-like legs toppled me over. "Where are you? I need to see you."

I don't remember much of the rest of that conversation or of the week that passed between it and actually getting to visit her. My mind and my body were not attached. I went about my days as a half-self. I attended but was not present in everything I done. In that week I barely ate, shut myself away because I didn't want to have to explain to Polly what had happened, couldn't bear to see that 'I told you so' look she'd give me, and I didn't have the strength or desire to lie to Larry about what was wrong.

Alex was the only thing I had on my mind. In my free time I scoured the internet, searching for information on convicts with similar convictions and the sentences they received, as if it would somehow help knowing that maybe she'd only serve half of her lowest possible sentence even though that would still be at least four years. It didn't help, but I looked anyway. I called her lawyer but he couldn't tell me much other than keep me updated with where she was and how the case was coming along.

It wasn't looking good. I didn't think he was much of a lawyer to be honest. To me he seemed disinterested, but then maybe he was just getting sick of hearing from me.

More than anything else, though, I spent that week crying. For her and for myself. Selfishly, I wasn't ready for what we had to be over. I worried that this would ruin the one chance I'd had at feeling something more than I'd ever felt before. I wasn't prepared to say goodbye to the nights I spent in her arms and the days I spent in her company.

But I cried for her too. I lay in bed and wondered what kind of bed she was sleeping in, I wondered what her cellmates were like, if she was getting something decent to eat, if she was cold and scared and lonely.

When I finally got to see her, all my fears were recognised. The place was a hole and that was putting it lightly. It stunk, looked like it was on the verge of falling apart and most of the guards looked either completely unbothered by everything or like they'd take immense pleasure in whacking you with their baton if you so much as stepped one inch over the line.

When Alex came out into the visitation room with a handful of other people, in a bright orange jumpsuit, she looked like she hadn't slept the whole week (it did occur to me that she probably hadn't). Her face was paler than usual and her once vibrant and shiny black hair now hung lifelessly by her shoulders. But the thing that worried me most was the shining black eye she sported. Hidden a little beneath her dark glasses but not enough to be invisible.

At first, my joy at seeing her over-rode my concern for that eye. "Alex!" I called out, standing up to wrap her into a tight hug as soon as I could. It took a moment, but she hugged me back and I don't know why but in that split second of holding her I almost felt like everything was going to be okay.

Almost.

"That's enough!" Someone barked, but both of us were too caught up in that hug to know or care that it was directed at us.

"Hey!" The way he slammed something – his fist or his baton, I couldn't tell – against the wood of one of the desks made me jump. I scowled at him, but he only responded with a "Sit the fuck down."

"Charming." I muttered as we both sat.

"Prison is known for the charm of its guards." She said and gave a rueful smile, "Believe it or not, he's one of the good ones."

"God. Really?"

She gave a sad sort of nod and it was then that her bruised eye came back into my focus. "What happened to you, Al?" She looked a little blankly at me and I added, "Your eye."

"Oh, that," she touched it gently under her glasses. She actually sounded like she'd forgotten about it and I couldn't help but wonder what else she'd gone through to make getting a black eye something you forgot about. "There was a bit of a disagreement over a toothbrush."

It sounded ridiculous and the look I gave her must have shown that because she laughed a little. Not her usual laugh. Not warm and deep, just a short listless sort of chuckle, but it was still a laugh. "Don't worry about it, it's nothing." She said and pushed her hair back with one hand.

Something I normally associated with her trying to flirt with me, but I knew better than to think that's what she was trying to do now. This time, it was a move borne out of nervousness. The way some people might bite their nails, Alex strokes a hand through her hair and fixes her glasses to her face. Things I was only learning now, because of this shitty situation we were in.

"It's so good to see you, Pipes." She said, her normally bright green eyes glazed over with a dark fear. "This place it's…" She sighed and shook her head, "I can't fucking believe I'm here."

My mouth opened but I didn't know what to say. I couldn't believe it either.

"It'll be okay," I said despite not really believing it, and reached my hand across the table to squeeze hers. "It'll be okay." I repeated with as much sincerity as I could muster, because seeing her so scared and vulnerable terrified me. All I wanted was to see that expression soften. For her to smile and throw some sarcastic line at me.

But that was selfish. Self-involved, as Alex often put it. This wasn't about making me feel better. This was about her, but I didn't know how to make her feel better. I didn't think there was really any way I could.

I squeezed her hand tighter and held her stare until the guard barked, "No touching!"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I turned around to him, incredulous, but he seemed unbothered and only reiterated his point with a "no touching, blondie."

The only solace in this was it made Alex laugh again. This time a little harder than before, like she was starting to become more comfortable with this uncomfortable setting.

I wasn't so sure that was a good thing.

We talked then for a bit about her case – or what she knew of it at least. I learned that a cop had gone deep undercover in their organisation and that's how they'd been caught. Turned out Kubra was right to be paranoid, he was just placing it on me when it should have been somewhere else. I expressed my concern over her lawyer but she insisted he was one of the best. 'Paid for by the boss'. An expert at getting the people off that really should be put away. She told me after her bail hearing she'd be sent somewhere else but didn't know where yet.

"Won't you get out on bail, though?" I asked, hopeful.

"This is a pretty serious charge so it'll be set high and I don't have the cash to pay it."

"Don't you have savings?"

"Yeah, but as much as I wanna get out of here I also wanna have money to come out to whenever they do let me out for good. How much freedom would posting bail really get me, Pipes? Think about it. A few months with a court ordered curfew and instructions to stay in the country – that's what."

She pushed her hair out of her face again and I had to stop myself from saying 'but you'll get to see me' like that would change anything. It'd probably only make it harder to say goodbye again in the end up, anyway.

"Are you going to be okay in here, Alex?" I asked, concerned, "This place, it's…" but I couldn't get the rest of my sentence out. The words trapped by a lump in my throat. "You…"

"I'll be fine," she answered, subtly touching my hand with hers while tears swam in my eyes. "I can take care of myself."

"I know but…" The tears that had been brimming at my eyes started to fall, "I'm gonna miss you." I'd tried so hard not to make any of this about me, but I couldn't help but tell her.

"I'm going to miss you, too." Her fingers squeezed my hand as she leant in to press her forehead against mine. I expected the guard to shout out again, but he didn't. Either he was busy paying attention to someone else or he'd decided to let us have this moment. Whatever the reason, I was grateful.

It was over all too soon. The guard called time on visitation and we got to hug again, "I love you," I said as we held each other and she repeated it back to me. I was filled then with a great sense of dread, because I knew soon enough that this hug would have to end and she'd have to leave and it'd be at least another week before I got to see her again.

We held each other too long, the guard yelled at us again and even more so when I kissed her. It was worth it. When she left I waited at that table and I watched and waved until she was out of sight.

The loss of her hit me all over again as I sat in the car. Because that's what it was – a loss. She might not be completely gone but in my everyday life, in the part she played in my life, she was. I wept with my head against the steering wheel for… I don't know how long. Until it hurt. Until there were no more tears to cry.

It was only when I pulled myself together enough to drive home that I thought of all the things we didn't say. All the things we didn't talk about. One glaring thing in particular.

The future.

Neither of us knew what it held now and that raised an unwelcome sort of panic within me. Suddenly the thought of me leaving Larry for her became so much scarier. If I did I'd not only have to explain to everyone that I was dating a woman, but that said woman was also a felon. Aside from everyone else, how would that affect me? I'd be left committed to a woman I couldn't physically be with, and for how long? Neither of us knew. Could be a few years, could be a decade. Staying together in this situation couldn't be healthy for either of us. I doubt anyone can last years in prison without being driven at least a little mad by the possibility of what their other half was doing on the outside, and I know I'd be driven to the same conclusions. Could I trust Alex to stay completely faithful to me in there? I didn't know that I could, and I didn't know that I had the strength to stay faithful to her out here either.

I love her. The last thing I wanted was to leave her, and I certainly didn't want to tell her this right now, but I couldn't see a future for us anymore either. Not in this situation, and I cried for that too. Broke down all over again for the loss of a relationship that never even got the chance to properly blossom.

But I wanted to be there for her, that I knew for certain. Maybe we'd have to break off what this was for the sake of both of our sanities, but we could still be friends, right? For now? I could still support her through all of this.

It was all so confusing and overwhelming. My mind a jumble of possibilities and completely fried from trying to figure out what to do for the best, failing to really see that right now there was no 'best'. This whole thing was fucked up and there was no way to make it better, only ways to make it a little less shitty.

Nothing would change the fact that the woman I loved was one I was no longer allowed to hold for more than a few seconds. One I could barely touch let alone kiss. One I can only contact through the phone or in a letter.

I felt a plethora of emotions; fear, concern, worry, love… hatred, anger. I was mad at her for getting caught, for being a part of the criminal organisation that let her end up there. I was mad at myself for letting myself fall for her when I knew – I knew – this might happen. I was mad at the cops for putting her in there, but most of all I was mad because I wasn't really mad at all. I couldn't be because the one thing I was feeling more than all of those was some sort of grief. I was heartbroken. Completely and utterly devastated and terrified by the uncertainty which lay ahead of me – ahead of us.