That Sunday evening, I opened my door to find Dale leaning against the door frame. He was dressed down in a blue shirt and jeans, his mop of curls brushed casually away from his eyes. He looked me up and down appreciatively - I was wearing an ivory blouse and black pants. Ruth had insisted we dress for the occasion. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Looking good, Dr Snow."

I laughed.

"Enjoy it while you can. I wouldn't be dressed up if Ruth hadn't threatened us with bodily harm."

"I'll have to ask Ruth to threaten you bodily more often."

I sighed. Dale was getting more and more blatant with his flirting, but I figured as long as he didn't expect me to respond, it wasn't a problem. Besides, flirting was fun.

The lines in Dale's and my relationship were getting more and more blurred the longer we were together. He was becoming a very good friend to me, in fact, for the first time in a long time, I was feeling human. He was definitely a healing force in my life. When Oliver had left, I had been pulled apart from the inside out. Dale was beginning to weave those remaining threads together. I would never be whole again, but hopefully I could be human.

I was however worried about what Dale hoped to get from this relationship. He had never told me that he wanted more from this than friendship, but the increasing frequency of harmless flirting did suggest at otherwise.

"I see you didn't listen to the warning - didn't she say no jeans?"

Dale looked down at himself comically. "Oh no! I forgot the tux!"

I just shook my head at him. I'm sure if Ruth was going to be upset, he was going to be the one to cop it, not me.

"So." Dale offered his arm to me. "Can I escort you to this par-tay?"

And he wiggled his eyebrows at me.

I cacked it.

"Alright, good sir, you may escort me to this soiree. But do not be fooled, this does not mean that my virtue will be easily swayed tonight." I could be obtuse if he was going to be.

He laughed as I placed hand upon his arm, and he led me to Ruth's party.

Christmas lights were tied to the veranda, music coming from the lounge. By the time we had arrived, half of Keyes was already there. Darcy, Ruth's now 16 year old son, was seated on the veranda, head in his hands, iPod plugged in. He looked less than excited to be here.

Ruth came bounding out through the French doors that connected the lounge to the veranda, and ruffled her son's hair lovingly on the way past. She glided over to greet us, her eyes spying my hand on Dale's arm. She smirked. And here I was hoping she wouldn't read too much into physical contact.

"Dale, Kaia, thanks for coming."

"Happy fortieth Ruth." Dale leaned in and kissed Ruth on the cheek.

"Shhh! You make me feel like an old woman." She smacked him playfully on his shoulder.

"You're the one that wrote it in the invite! Hardly a secret old woman."

She smacked him again. "The date makes it an event. You're not meant to acknowledge it, what sort of gentleman are you?"

"He's not," I supplied, and he elbowed me gently in the ribs.

"Oh Dale! You're wearing jeans!"

A look of mock horror washed across his face. "I thought you said jeans and a shirt!"

"No! I said no jeans and a shirt." A smile crossed her face.

Just then, Dale dropped to his knees, and the sound of sobbing came from him.

"Oh, what a stupid man I am! I have ruined your birthday! I am so sorry!"

Ruth started to laugh. "It's ok! Honestly, I think I'll get over it."

"You're sure?" He looked up at her. "I guess it does give you an excuse to have a repeat fortieth next year," and he winked at her.

"Oh be away with you, you're bad for an old woman's heart! Drinks are inside, there's a barbeque out back. Enjoy!" and with that, Ruth swept away from us.

I turned to Dale and crossed my arms across my chest.

"You are nuts, you know that," I told him seriously.

"Ah, but it's part of my charm Miss Snow. Truth be told, you wouldn't love me like you do if I didn't," he said, brushing the dirt from his knees.

I smacked him in the shoulder and shook my head. He could be so silly sometimes.

"So am I to take it that you do love me? Oh, I'm flattered!"

I looked at him agog, and shoved him hard and stormed off. Dale followed me, chuckling to himself, "Should I book the church and the caterers?"

"If I didn't know better I'd think you were bipolar."

He dashed to catch up to me. "I'm the psych reg here, I think I would know if I was crazy."

"Ex-psych reg. Besides, crazy people don't think they're crazy."

He chuckled. "And people in love don't know they are either. When you think about it, love and madness are so close together, it's hard to tell them apart."

"Explains a lot." I muttered, and we went inside to grab a drink.

A few hours later, and Dale and I were lying outside, looking up at the stars. I had to admit, I was a bit drunk. I couldn't tell you if Dale was - he always acted drunk, even if sober. It had been a good party, I had a chance to talk to a lot of people I hadn't spoken to in a long time. I think the word must have gone around that I wasn't nuts anymore, because it seemed I couldn't turn around without someone wanting to talk to me. The evening was finally winding down, and I could only be glad. It was cool for a November n0ight, and Dale had his arm around my shoulders to keep me warm.

"I can see Capricorn," he said pointing at the sky.

I scoffed at him. "Isn't Capricorn a northern hemisphere constellation?"

"Really?" He looked at me. "I could swear that bunch of stars look like a ram."

"Capricorn's a goat, Aries is the ram."

"Then Aries then."

"That's a northern hemisphere constellation too."

"Know-it-all."

I looked at him, and found his eyes were still on me. As soon as our eyes caught, I found I couldn't look away. Slowly, tentatively, Dale pulled me closer, and kissed me. And I didn't pull away.

His lips were soft and gentle, as if he were as unsure as I was. I shut my eyes, and could feel his warmth as he pulled me closer, wrapping his arm tightly around me. His fingers traced my face, brushing against my eyelashes, pulling hair away from my face. I didn't know what to do, but I knew it shouldn't feel right. We were crossing the boundary I had carefully kept in place, and I didn't know how to get back across it, I didn't know if I wanted to.

Sensing my approval - well, at least not my disapproval - he pulled me ever closer to him, I could feel every inch of his body against mine, and our kiss became more and more passionate. I ran my fingers through his hair, grabbing onto handfuls of curls, and pulled his face towards mine. We rolled onto my back, and I could feel his weight above me, and it felt nice. I didn't know how long it could keep going, how far this would go, but I didn't want to stop. Tonight, all I wanted in my life was Dale Wannapingu. Was that a bad thing?

Dale's hand strayed up my top, and I could hear our breathing become ragged. But feeling his hot hand on my chest brought me back to the world. What was I doing?

"Wait," I gasped, and instantly he pulled away.

Out of his grasp, I could feel my thoughts start filtering through the haze that surrounded me. This was wrong, this had gone too far. We were ruining everything. I knew in that moment that I cared for Dale Wannapingu, and I shouldn't. That love was not fair on either of us. It was not fair for me to do this to him. And then, Oliver strayed into my thoughts, and even though I shouldn't have, a wave of guilt washed over me.

"I'm sorry," I said, covering my face with my hands. "I can't, I'm so sorry."

Dale was such a gentleman - he didn't ask any questions, he just moved himself further away from me, giving me some space.

"It's ok," he said soothingly. "I'll walk you home."

I just nodded at him, and he pulled me upright. Even though it was cool, he did not put his arm around me to keep me warm, he stayed a safe distance away from me as we walked silently back to my house.

We whispered goodbyes to each other at my doorway, and I entered my house alone. I walked numbly to my bed, where I finally let the tears take me.

I didn't come back for a very long time.

As the morning light started to filter through my curtains, the tears didn't stop but my head started to clear, and I could not believe what a train wreck I had allowed my life to turn into. I had always thought of myself as an independent woman, that I had never relied on anyone but myself. But that had been a lie, I had just ignored the evidence up till now.

I had thrown myself into relationship after relationship to shape my sense of self. You just had to look at my dating history to see that.

Mark, the alpha male of my year level. Although he was undeniably a self-obsessed, philandering arse hole, which I think I knew at the time we got together, I had allowed myself to be with him to make myself fit in with the rest of my class. Before Mark had made me his other half, I was an outlier. I was younger than everyone else, brighter than everyone else. People felt threatened by me - they didn't understand me and I didn't understand them. And I was shunned. I always sat by myself, no one ever talked to me. Then one day, Mark had come and sat by me in a lecture on the cardiovascular system, and told me I was cute. Next thing I know, I'm at the centre of everything. Although I never fit in completely, the other students made sure I was involved. Mark was their king and now I was their queen. The fact that Mark had never thought of me as more than an arm dressing hadn't bothered me, because he was my link to the world. I had allowed myself to overlook much more of his behaviour than I should have because the need I felt to belong was more powerful. I had allowed Mark to take part of myself, something that I would never get back, for that need. I had made myself reliant on Mark, and gave up some of my independence in the trade. I had never acknowledged that before now.

And Oliver, my dear, perfect Oliver. I didn't have a choice but to give up my heart to that magical, mysterious man. I realised when I met him that it had never belonged to me, but I had just been waiting for him to collect it. He was my soul mate, of that much I was certain. There was no person who would ever exist that I could love as much as I had him. And while he had loved me in return, I didn't care that each moment I spent with him I had bound myself tighter and tighter to him. So when he finally tired of me and my mortality, he had ripped most of me apart and had taken it with him. I was empty without him. I hadn't found anything that could fill the gap left behind, and I had allowed myself to wallow in the pain of his absence. And yet I had still tried to convince myself that I could cope on my own, that I was still independent enough to manage.

How foolish had that been?

But what now? I had given Mark my dignity, I had given Oliver my soul. What was there left over for Dale to have?

And that just brought more tears, because I knew in that instant, that whatever shreds were left of me, Dale would take them and be glad of it. But should I let him do that? Tie himself to my half-life, allowing my desperate remnants of a person feed off his goodness, allow him to tie myself to him so that someday I could be the one to tear him to shreds? I was weak enough to do that. I needed what he had to offer, the chance of a life, to be more than the ghost I had been for so long now. He could never make me whole again, but he could make me more solid, less ephemeral.

But could I do that? My mind drifted again to Oliver, to my absent other half. What did you do when your soul mate left, taking your heart with him? Shakespeare had never written about people being able to continue after their soul mate had departed, in fact, Juliet had killed herself after the death of her poor Romeo.

Could I love Dale, not like I had Oliver - no-one would ever come close to that - but could I love him enough for him to be happy? I didn't know.

I curled into a ball and let the grief take me again.

The next morning I forced myself out of bed and dragged myself to work, wishing for that for just one day I could pull a sicky. I was truly shocked at how normal everything seemed. Why hadn't the rest of the world acknowledged what happened yesterday? Or wasn't a massive shift in my own personal reality important enough to be reflected elsewhere?

I was thankful that I was consulting. I could bury myself with the problems of my patients and not think about myself. The added benefit was that by staying in my room all day, I could avoid Dale. I wasn't quite ready to deal with that can of worms just yet.

At lunchtime, I tried desperately to sneak out the hospital without anyone noticing, but Dale was waiting for me by the back entrance.

"Kaia, I…"

I shoved myself past him, not saying a word.

"Kaia, I'm sorry…but don't you think we should talk about this?" He hurried to stay at pace with me.

"Maybe I don't want to talk about this Dale," I grumbled, still not meeting his eyes.

Dale grabbed my arm and pulled me to face him.

"Did you ever think maybe I needed to talk about this?"

I looked him in the eye, and waited for him to continue.

"Kaia…" He ran his fingers through his hair, exasperated. "I would love to say that I was sorry about kissing you yesterday, but I'm not. I can't feel guilty about what happened."

I shook my head. I really did not want to talk about that. I just wanted to pretend it didn't happen.

"Kaia, you know that there's something between us, something that's more than just being friends. If you weren't still so…emotionally attached…to Oliver, then what happened yesterday wouldn't have been a problem. I'm sorry, but is it really worth hurting yourself over him when he's not coming back? You could be happy with me."

Yes, I could be happy with him. That was the problem. He was right, I knew there was something there, but just because it was there didn't make that something right. I knew deep down if I let this develop between Dale and I, then one of us would eventually get hurt. I wasn't ready to inflict that upon him.

"Dale, it's not that…"

"Then what? I know this is coming on strong, but I think I lo…"

"Don't say that," I interrupted. My resolve would waver if he managed to get those words out. I craved love too much to resist.

"But it's true. Honestly, we don't have to rush things, I just don't want you to close me out. Please just think things through, Kaia."

His eyes were pleading.

I sighed. I was so close to giving in.

"Look, can we at least wait to talk about it until after I've had some time to think things through?"

"Fine! Time I can give you. Take all the time you want."

His enthusiasm made me smile just a little.

I would love to say that things between Dale and I went back to normal after that, but I can't. Once you realise you have feelings for a person - it's one of those moments that change everything. There is no going back. Dale acted like a gentleman throughout, and I felt guilty. He was much better to me than I deserved. Truly, he should have just ditched me. I was like a cancer, threatening to consume him. But Dale continued to persevere. He was overtly polite to me, never dragging the conversation to where I knew he wanted it. He never acknowledged the yearning he had for me, although occasionally during quiet moments on night shift, I would look over at Dale to find him looking at me in a way that was more than friendly. It made me sigh - things weren't simple between us anymore.

Dale was sticking to his side of the bargain, and I stuck to mine. I desperately spent that first week after our ill-fated kiss trying to think things through, to work out where we belonged in each other's lives. I thought long and hard about Oliver as well, something I had been trying to avoid for months now. Although it hurt, it was necessary. I knew that the only boundary Oliver posed to Dale and my relationship was one I had created myself. I wasn't willing to let Oliver go, but Oliver had already let me go. He wouldn't be hurt if I moved on, at least I hoped that he retained enough good will towards me to wish that for me. But I had to be willing to let him go, and not punish myself for my feelings towards Dale. I shouldn't feel guilty - Oliver was my soul mate, and I had loved him more than it was possible to love anyone. He would be a part of my life forever, if only an invisible part. Dale understood that. It was alright for me to love someone else, even if I couldn't love them as much as I had loved Oliver. I thought I could manage that.

And I did love Dale. The more I thought about it, the more I realised that. It wasn't the same type of love as I had for Oliver, but it was a healthier type of love. When I was around Dale, I felt happy, I felt special, I felt like me. The love I had for him did not consume me, nor did it consume him. This type of love did not have the fatal endings that the love Oliver and I shared had.

By Friday, I had made my decision, and I invited Dale over for dinner. I spent the afternoon flitting about the kitchen, making ravioli for dinner (quite an involved process if you make the ravioli from scratch). After I had put the ravioli in to boil, I heard a knock on my door. I glared at my watch - he was early. I rushed over and opened the front door, to find Dale standing there.

"Hey," he said, flashing me one of his brilliant smiles.

"Hi, come on in, ravioli's almost done." I stood aside as he entered the house.

Dale walked into the kitchen, and started to fiddle with some of the ingredients I left out, and I had to rush over to protect them - Dale couldn't cook to save his soul.

"If you actually want a nice dinner, I suggest you leave well enough alone," I said, smiling at him as he withdrew his hands from the herbs sitting on my bench. "If you want, you can grate some cheese."

"I think I can manage that," Dale said, retrieving the grater from the cupboard.

I added herbs to the sauce I was making for the ravioli, as I heard Dale go ouch. My head swung around, and Dale was sucking on two of his fingers, and there was blood on the bench.

"Dale!" I said, rushing over to inspect the damage.

He retrieved his fingers from his mouth, and I saw that he had somehow managed to slice the tips off his index and middle fingers of his left hand.

"You're going to need stitches," I sighed, grabbing a tea towel and wrapping it around his hand. I flitted around the kitchen, turning all the cooking implements off - dinner would have to wait.

Dale and I walked over to the hospital, where I cleaned his hand and prepared it for suturing.

"What on earth compelled you to try and assist me with cooking anyway? Some days, I swear you could burn water!" I sighed, as I injected local anaesthetic around the base of his index finger.

"I was just trying to be helpful." He winced as I put the needle into his skin again.

"Helpful would have been not chopping the tops of your fingers off. How on earth did you manage this anyway?"

He forced a smile for me. "I have a talent."

I sutured the tip of his finger back on deftly - it only needed three sutures, and then moved onto his middle finger.

"Next time you want to impress me, try using a different talent to wow me," and I smiled at him.

"You know what, I think you're enjoying inflicting pain on me a little bit too much," he accused.

"Oh yes, there's nothing I prefer than suturing fingertips back into place. Damn, you know my sick little fetish."

Oddly enough, I was enjoying this. Somehow, our banter was able to return to what it was pre-kiss. It was a nice feeling.

"You never did say why you were inviting me over for dinner tonight," he said as I was setting the stitches in his middle finger.

"Because you're physically incapable of feeding yourself. I was fairly sure you'd be suffering from malnutrition by now from having to fend for yourself all week."

"No, I'm ok. Ruth's been having me over." I glared at him, and he smiled at me. "Bit like a mother hen, really. So what was the real reason you invited me over?"

"I wanted to have a talk to you about…us. I promised you I would think about it, and I did."

I didn't look him in the eyes when I said this, instead I worried about dressing his fingers.

"Oh," was all he said.

I looked up at him and sighed. "You do realise I care for you, Dale. I never meant for any of this to happen, but you just make yourself too damn lovable. And even though I don't think it's good for you, I'd like to give this relationship a go. Personally, I think you'd be better off without me, but I think it's up to you to make that decision."

"Oh," he said a little more enthusiastically this time.

I waited for his reply. I was starting to get a little bit impatient.

"It's ok if you've changed your mind and decided you don't want me," I added when he continued not to talk. "It's better for you that way…"

And with that, he leaned across the distance between us and kissed me gently. He pulled away after a while and chuckled to himself.

"You can be so absurd, you know." His eyes danced. "Of course I want you. I wouldn't have risked life and limb trying to impress you if I didn't," and a smile lit up his face again.

I was gob smacked. "You were trying to impress me?"

"I admit, I failed miserably, but I did try."

I don't think anything could have wiped the smile off his face.

I shook my head at him, as he leant across the distance and kissed me again. This time I pulled away.

"I forgot to say, there is a little caveat to this relationship." I put my finger up to illustrate the point. "We're going to do this slowly. Very, very slowly, Dale. And it's going to be casual, at least for a while yet"

"Ok." He smiled at me. "Whatever you wish."

And with that, he leaned across and kissed me again.

I sighed - evidently going slow had a different meaning for Dale, but I didn't have the heart to stop him - he had sacrificed his fingertips for me.

At least, that was the excuse I was going with.

Apart from the fact that kissing had been added to the relationship, things with Dale pretty much went back to what they had been prior to Ruth's fortieth, and I couldn't say I wasn't happy about it. Dale had always been a great person to be around, and now that we were a couple, I could only say that things got better.

I did force things to go more slowly than they had with Oliver - I was not going to make that mistake again. I was going to make sure before anything went too far that both Dale and I would manage to remain as separate entities. I was preparing myself for the worse - I was not going to allow myself to rip Dale to shreds if we ever parted.

Dale was more than accepting of my go-slow condition, he never pushed to spend the night, he never pushed for more involved physical contact than kissing (although he did insist on kissing quite frequently). This time, there was no massive outing of my relationship in town - Ruth had learnt her lesson after last time. Everyone just let Dale and I meander on with our relationship at the pace we wanted.

And more than anything else, I realised I was happy. Even when Dale was not around, I still managed to feel happy. Although I still missed Oliver terribly, and I would never heal from that separation, I think I'd begun to be able to live with it.

That first month of Dale and my relationship was the happiest period I had had in my life in a long time. I hoped it would go on forever, but like always, things had to change. And I knew they were going to have to change, because at a point really soon, I was going to have to leave Keyes. Internship only goes for a year and that year had just expired. The only reason why I was still around was to make up for my absences from various accidents. In five weeks, my time would be up and I would have to leave. I just hoped all my preparation had worked, and that Dale and I could part ways without hurting each other.