Paul's POV

I don't even know why I bothered coming in to work today. I can't focus worth a damn. Every time I try, yesterday's events come rushing back at me. Something isn't right and I can't quite place my finger on it. I mean, something other than the fact I saw Stephanie making out with some guy that's apparently her husband. The fact that she didn't outright deny the accusation means it's true.

Still, she'd seemed genuinely shocked when I asked if the guy was the reason she'd ran off when I told her I loved her.

"Fucking hell," I mutter to myself and swipe the pile of papers off my desk.

Stephanie is infuriating. After knowing my very recent history with a cheater, she goes and she makes me the other guy. No excuse that she has for that is of interest to me. There's nothing she can say to make this better or even okay, so there's no point in seeing her ever again. But I find myself curious as to how she could spend so much of her time with me without her husband finding out.

Then again, as a business owner she could easily claim that she's working late. Either way, the fact that I've never been to her house makes perfect fucking sense now. She had a husband and a daughter waiting for her there.

I'm stupid…so, so fucking stupid to have believed I'd finally received what I'd always wanted from a woman. Instead, I got an actual vulture, dressed up as the woman of my dreams. She pecked and chipped away at my defenses until she reached my heart. And then she flew away, leaving me with nothing to guard myself against pain.

My intercom buzzes. I'm really not in the mood to be bothered. But I also can't be too much of a dick at the office. Having my personal and professional life go to hell at the same time just wasn't an option.

I press the flashing red button and answer, "Yes, Jan?"

Her cheery voice floats through the speakers, "There's a woman here to see you."

My eyes narrow in concentration as I wonder if Stephanie gave enough of a shit to actually remember where I work. "If it's a tall brunette with blue eyes, send her away. If not, send her on back."

"Okay," Jan says slowly. I can tell she's damn confused. I'll usually tell her to send people back, with no questions asked. I guess the next minute or so will tell me whether or not Stephanie was in fact the visitor.

I take a long swallow from by water bottle and try to get myself together mentally. If it's a potentially new client, I need to put my best foot forward. Putting this mess with Stephanie out of my mind is paramount.

There's a light rapping at my door. I take a deep breath and yell, "Come in," as politely as I can.

A head full of blonde hair comes into view. As the door closes over, I realize exactly who's standing in front of me. "Get out," I say neutrally.

Stacy – Stephanie's best friend and business partner – lifts an eyebrow fractionally. "No," she says plainly.

"If you're here to appeal to me on that slut's behalf, save your breath. I don't want to ever see or hear from her again. Nothing you can say to me will change that."

I'm proud of myself, actually. I only called Stephanie one derogatory name and it wasn't even a curse word. Stacy looks offended…but I don't give a fuck. Does she not know the extent of the total hell her friend has put me through? She must, or she wouldn't be here.

"Don't you dare talk about her that way!"

A bitter laugh leaves me on instinct. Oh, this is rich. "I call them like I see them."

"Well, everything isn't as it seems. You'd know that if you'd taken your head out of your ass and listened to her for just two minutes."

"Why would I want to sit there and listen to her lie to my face for even two seconds?"

Stacy is about to respond, but I interrupt her before she can. "Don't answer that. You can't. I've got no problem with you personally, Stacy. But I'm done with your damn friend and I don't appreciate her sending you over here to clean up her mess."

"She didn't. In fact she told me specifically not to come to you until after…"

Curiously, she trails off as if she's said too much. I don't know why; she hasn't said anything of importance the entire time that she's been here. "After what?"

"Later," Stacy explains vaguely. "Just later."

"Whatever," I mutter angrily.

"Listen," she begins even as she starts clacking away on her cell phone. I find this ironic; she wants me to listen but isn't even paying attention to this conversation. "I'm not defending Steph's dishonesty. There's more to the story."

I shrug. "I don't care."

"If," she says with extra emphasis on the word. "If you ever truly cared about her, you need to hear what she has to say. At the very least it'll give you some closure." Stacy stops fiddling with her phone and looks at me again. "There. I've just messaged you the video she made for you."

My eyes narrow suspiciously. "How did you get my number?"

Stacy's shoulders lift nonchalantly. "Snooping through her phone."

"Is that also how you figured out where I work?"

Stacy smirks mischievously. "She's mentioned your profession before. With the last name of Levesque, it wasn't hard to Google you."

Despite my annoyance, I can't help but crack a smile at her brazen attitude about invading her friend's privacy and damn near stalking me. Although if Steph intended for me to ever see this video, she'd have had to give Stacy some way to get into contact with me. From my desk, my cell phone vibrates just once, letting me know I've got a message. Stacy draws her bottom lip in and says, "That's my cue to leave. I'd listen to that now, if I were you."

Oh sure, that's not at all cryptic. Without another word spoken between us, she makes a hasty exit.

I really don't want to listen to anything Stephanie has to say. But the fact that her friend snuck here with such urgency is making me very curious. If I'm going to dive into this, I might as well do it while I'm still pissed off. You know, instead of waiting to be in a better mood only to have the video piss me off again.

So, here we go. I press my lips together and pick up my phone as if it's some kind of explosive device. Maybe it is. Maybe it'll blow what's left of my heart into even tinier pieces or something.

I see Stacy's unfamiliar number flash across the screen with the message. I take a deep breath and click on the video.

Stephanie's face pops up on the small screen, but that's not what catches my attention. The fact that she's obviously in a hospital room does.

She manages a small smile and I'm utterly stunned by how weak and pale she looks. There's an oxygen tank next to her along with several other machines. Yet she's trying to look strong and unaffected.

I go ahead and sit down at my desk because I have a feeling I'm going to need it.

Hey Paul. I know that I'm probably the last person you want to hear from right now. But there are some things that you need to know. I'm not sure if this video will help, but it will provide answers.

The thing is that Alex married me strictly to get sole custody of his bratty daughter. While we dated, he never even told me he had one. I was blindsided and already married to him when I found out.

But on the other hand, I'd allowed that relationship to progress at lightning speed because I knew my mother was dying. We dated for four months, were engaged for two and then basically eloped. I did it because my mother worried so much about me finding a partner. I wanted to give her that before she left us. So I did and I've regretted that decision ever since I said, "I do." He's been a terrible, egotistical, inconsiderate husband and he knows it. But he also knew I wouldn't leave him while my Mom was still alive. It would have broken her heart. My Mom passed away a few days after my one month anniversary. I met you about four months later.

On that last day, what you saw was the end of my marriage to Alex. On paper. In every other way that counts, we were divorced well before we officially petitioned the court.

You must be wondering why I stuck around so long after my Mom was gone. The simple answer is because I didn't think it mattered anymore.

Stephanie's eyes go glossy with tears and it's easy to see that what she has to say isn't easy. I'm extremely concerned for her as she reaches over and grabs nasal tubes from the side of the bed. As she inserts them, I'm struck by how she manages to look that much more ill. She inhales deeply a few times and tries her best to keep herself composed. I wait patiently, watching the screen as if it's got some sick spell over me.

Once Stephanie has her breathing under control, the tubes come out again. Her sad smile does nothing to put me at ease.

Sorry about that. When I get worked up, my breathing goes all crazy now. But the reason I didn't think it mattered to stay tied to Alex is because I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I got that news just a few days before I was to meet with a well-reputed divorce attorney. If that isn't ironic I don't know what is.

So I left the situation alone…basically checked out on life, I guess. I was just arranging my affairs so that my family and business would be taken care of. I hadn't told anyone about my condition. And I was fine with all of this – just planning to fade away one day instead of having my loved ones see me like this. You know, holding out hope, begging for a miracle that I know won't come.

But then you spilled coffee on me!

I laugh at this and realize that it sounds so broken because I've unknowingly been crying right along with her. I can't believe what I'm hearing. Up until this video, she seemed perfectly healthy to me. She suffered from occasional back pain but told me it was nothing to worry about. Massages seemed to help her a lot. But now I'm wondering if that was a symptom of the disease that she hid from me.

You have to know that I wasn't expecting you, Paul. You met me on a day where I'd decided to be more selfish. I've gone my entire life pleasing others and my reward was having mine taken away from me before I'm even thirty. I honestly thought that you were too awesome and too good-looking to be a great man…or one that would fall for me. Especially given your recent break-up. This isn't an excuse, Paul, I swear. I just figured that we'd have fun, keep things light.

When I realized I was developing feelings for you, it was okay. I wasn't scared. To you, I'd hoped that I was nothing more than a good time, but I was kidding myself. That's just what I wanted to believe, I guess. It made it easier to lie and to hide details about myself.

It made it easier to let myself fall in love with you, Paul. As long as you weren't getting hurt, it was fine. That's why I freaked out when you told me that you loved me. How could I continue, knowing the things I'd kept from you? The marriage, the stepdaughter and the fact that I'm dying? I didn't even know where to start or if I should, so I ran from you.

Alex finally agreed to the divorce and Stacy convinced me that I should try to talk to you. I swear to you, Paul – I was planning to come to your house that night to tell you everything. My soon to be ex-husband showing up at my work was a surprise, to say the least. And so were you. That kiss with him meant nothing to me! The whole time I just kept thinking how it felt so damn wrong that he was kissing me and not you. And then we argued and you left. I tried to go after you, but the breathing situation happened and I passed out. That's how I ended up in here.

Stephanie takes a deep breath. I can tell that she's resolved to finish what she has to say without using the oxygen again. Damn stubborn woman.

I apologize to you, Paul. From the bottom of my heart. I never wanted to hurt you, but I did. I should have been honest with you from the start about everything. But I wasn't – I couldn't – and I'm sorry.

I also have to apologize in advance for not telling you any of this to your face. I'm sorry that I didn't give us a real chance…or give you a chance to get out before things had gone this far. I'm – I'm sorry that I didn't give you a chance to tell me what you think of all of this. Or to spend time more time with me, if you'd have chosen that. I'm sorry that our futures aren't entwined; that we won't get married, have kids and grow old together. You have no idea how much it hurts me that I wasn't able to give you any of that.

Even with that constant pain, I wouldn't take back a single moment I spent with you. You brought me love and joy at a time when all I felt was emptiness, regret and misery. You made my life mean something to me again and I can never repay you for that. Without a doubt, you are the light of my world.

By the look in her eyes I know that she's being sincere. She gives a little chuckle and shake of the head, but I can tell that it's because she feels fate has played a sick, cruel joke on her. On us, really. For whatever reason, she's wearing her heart on her sleeve. There is no hesitation, or layers upon layers of emotional defenses to wade through. She's laying herself bare in this video. I wish she'd been able to do this sooner, but wonder why she's chosen to do so now, in this way.

I specifically asked Stacy to give this to you only after I'm...gone. I'm not strong enough to say goodbye to you. This is the best attempt I've got.

You have to know that whether the event was good or bad, nothing has had the impact on my life that you have. And it all started over that damn spilled coffee. Fate is funny that way, I guess. On what was one of the worst days of my life, the best thing ever was brought to me. And I was too angry at the universe to realize it.

My love, what I'm trying to say is that when I ran off that day, I'm really glad that you found me.

Stephanie wipes at the few tears that are tracking down her face, but I'm unable to do the same. She gives an almost imperceptible nod and the video ends.

I try hard to process what I've just watched. Stephanie loves me and is in the middle of a divorce. But she was terminally ill and is lost to me forever. I'll never have a chance to make things right with her – if there even were such a way to do that.

It's weird, but suddenly Stacy pops up into my mind. She made it pretty clear that she'd gone against Stephanie's wishes and sought me out on her own. If that's true, then maybe it's not too late to see Stephanie.

I wipe my hands over my face, rubbing the wetness from my tears onto my coat. I hastily compose a message, making it clear that if Stephanie is still alive, I want to see her immediately.

My door opens almost as soon as the message is sent off. Stacy pops her head in. "I thought you might say that."

I'd love to end this at chapter 24 and then have 25 be an epilogue potentially. Or end at 25 and then no epilogue. I haven't decided about the epilogue BUT I'm certain there won't be any more than 3 or 4 actual chapters after this one. 25 is just a nice, pretty, cool number but I won't hold myself to it. Lol.

So tell me what ya think! Okay? Okay.

And sorry if I made anyone cry with this chapter :D