Chapter 25

"I can't lead you when you can't do anything right!" I bark at my flight as I pace the line of soldiers.

I stop next to Lieutenant Porter, my face twisting into a cruel scowl, and yell, "Lt. Porter here is a real piece of work. He thinks he's so smart, thinks he's going to rebel and get away with it. Well, I've got some news for you Porter." I step in closer and peer up into his face. "I ain't your momma and this ain't your comfy little trailer park home. Your behavior doesn't fly with me. Do you hear me!"

"Yes, Lt. Barton!" he yells back, his face expressionless, but his eyes reflecting a rage that strangely excites me.

"I'm not so sure," I return. "Step out here and face your flight."

"Ma'am," he practically whispers.

"It's Lt. Barton, now do as I say!"

He steps out of formation and turns to face the flight.

"Repeat after me," I belt with a sadistic tone. "I, Lt. Porter am a certifiable idiot."

The lieutenant glowers, and after a moment's hesitation repeats my words.

When he finishes I continue the abuse. "I think I'm so smart, but I've been failing tests and making my flight look bad!"

Once again he echoes my words.

"Okay, get back in formation," I say. "So Lieutenant Porter here needs help from his flight. So this evening…yep…cancel all your plans. You're going to meet in the dormitory break room and study…starting at nineteen hundred hours until twenty-one hundred hours. And you're going to continue this every night until Lt. Porter passes his tests."

I can feel the tension in the soldiers, and take pleasure knowing that Lt. Porter, like I, will experience the feeling of being an outcast. It is cruel of me to subject him to such abuse, but his build, his eyes, his expressions are so much like Logan's, stirring the unresolved anger inside me. My eyes linger on the lieutenant as he marches past, his gait eerily similar to Logan's, like a reminder from the grave.

"Lt. Barton," shouts an officer, snapping me from my thoughts. "Major Joseph Johnston wants to see you immediately."

Butterflies flutter in my stomach and a smile creeps across my face as I clutch at the idea of a transfer, like a child clinging to a bag of candy.

"Afternoon Colonel Powel, please take a seat," Says Major General McClernand.

Lewis wipes away the sweat that beads on his brow and falls into the plush chair across from the Major General's desk.

"So what can you tell me about these murders?" He releases an exasperated sigh. "People want answers, especially the families and the FBI is threatening to get involved if this isn't resolved soon."

Lewis straightens, realizing this is not a casual meeting. "I've gone over the reports and the hair evidence proved inconclusive." He pauses for a moment, then continues, "Interesting point, though, is the discovery of synthetic hairs."

"So what does that mean?" asks the Major General.

"Well, someone was wearing a wig….whether it was one of the queers at the bar or the perpetrator of the crime."

"Hmm. Ballou told me McIntyre visited the Ram Rod bar frequently," he says, thinking out loud. "It's a shame he had such a weight problem and had to be – shall we say – retired."

"Yes Sir, it is a shame, but his work was, well, shoddy at best. Anyway, I followed up on that point," he responds, holding back the anger he feels for the Major General communicating to one of his subordinates. "I got a description of the man he left the bar with. He's described as having short hair, fit build, about six feet tall. Some bruising on the face-"

"Bruising?" echoes the Major General. "There're only two suspects on our list, so which one is it?"

"Well, thing is both suspects have bruising…Apparently they like to fight, mostly with each other." He releases a smirk.

"This is not amusing Lewis," says McClernand, stiffening in his seat. "This is obviously some kind of love triangle between the suspects and Lt. Barton."

Lewis casts his eyes to the floor, peering at his shiny shoes, his thoughts turning to Mia's cleanly shaved crotch.

"Yes, I think you're right," he says, pushing thoughts of her from his head, and forcing himself to look up and make eye contact. "But Lt. Barton was not having a relationship with Lt. McCoy."

"It's rumored they were though," says the Major General.

"I know, but there's no evidence to support that." He rubs his sweaty hands on his neatly pressed pants, hoping it is never discovered that he destroyed a few pages of evidence.

The Major General presses his index fingers into a triangle and rests them on his upper lip. He releases a heavy sigh, places his palms on the desk and continues. "What about the phone records?"

"I went through them and it seems they had a friendship, but Lt. McCoy was pushing for more. Given his position of leadership over Lt. Barton, that put her in a touchy situation, but she never had, at least, the evidence indicates, any sexual relations with the man."

"One of the suspects must have believed there was an affair, of that I'm certain and that's why two of our officers are dead." He says with a rise in his voice and raps his fist on the desk.

Lewis casts a weak smile, nods his head and says, "I think you're right, Sir."

McClernand shifts forward, rests his elbows on the table and folds his hands in front. "Lewis, Airman Averell broke under questioning and tells me you've been having an affair with Lt. Barton. This could compromise the case."

"Totally false Sir," says Lewis, then he clears his throat and continues, "Airman Averell's changing his story now? It doesn't surprise me after I stopped giving him jobs when I caught him stealing from me."

"I'll be talking to Lt. Barton for clarification." His eyes are not as forgiving as they used to be, and for the first time, Lewis' cocky demeanor is replaced with fear.

"That's a good idea," says Colonel Powell as he rests back in his seat and forces a smile, resisting the urge to wipe away the trickle of sweat oozing down his temple.

I knock lightly on Major Joseph Johnston's door. He looks up from his desk, and I salute.

"Come on in Lt. Barton, have a seat." He motions to the chair across from his desk. "So, it seems we need to fill a spot at Edward's Air force Base and you're the best fit for the job. Your test scores have been exceptional, and your leadership skills have improved quite a bit. Congratulations Lt. Barton, you've turned into a fine soldier."

"Thank you, Sir," I say, beaming with delight.

"So as soon as you graduate at the end of the week, you'll have a short holiday break and then be shipped out to Edward's. You may leave now." He motions to the door as if anxious to be rid of me.

"Thank you, Sir." I salute and leave, barely able to control myself from skipping for joy.

When I step outside the office building a cool breeze passes over me. The day is beautiful and I only wish Mitch were here to celebrate with me. He will forgive me and we will be together at last. I can feel it in my bones.

I continue at a jaunty pace to the cafeteria, hoping to catch a bite of food before my next class. As I round the building a weak voice calls from behind. I turn to see Airman Averell.

"Bill," I say, surprised, used to only seeing him in the late evening hours. The sun hits his face, making his oily skin shine. A pug comes to mind, the rolls of his chubby face more clear, aging him by at least ten years

"I spoke to the Major General about your affair with Colonel Powell," he says shakily. "I hope you're going to back me up like you promised."

"I will," I say with a smile.

He hesitates a moment, furrowing his brows, making him more wrinkly than I thought possible. Nodding his head he shifts his weight uncomfortably, then turns and saunters away.

I continue to the cafeteria and when I am finished eating race off to my next class. Sitting quietly in my seat I stare off dreamily toward the front of the room. The instructor drones on and I do not hear a word he says, my thoughts consumed with Lt. Porter. I am certain he is younger than Logan and perhaps even myself. He is cocky, arrogant, and unsure of himself, like a lot of young men. I feel the corners of my mouth twist into a smile as I imagine myself instructing him in the art of love. I lift my pen to my mouth, begin to chew at the cap and fall deep into fantasy.

"Lt. Barton," says the instructor, startling me back to reality.

I shift my eyes to the front where another office stands with the instructor.

"Yes sir," I blurt out, causing some snickering.

"You're wanted, you may leave." He motions to the door.

Confused, I gather my books and race out of the classroom on the heels of the other officer.

"Major General McClernand needs to see you," He turns and says with little emotion before scampering away.

My stomach seizes and I am overcome with nausea. I am certain the stress of my situation and uncharacteristic behavior has resulted in digestive problems. Feeling sick all the time now, I realize I must relax and force myself to eat more.

Pushing my discomfort to the back of my mind, I walk over to the office building once again, my legs so shaky I can barely stand. I know the Major General wants to question me about my affair with Colonel Powell, and I promised Bill I would vouch for him.

Soon, panic takes hold of me, turning my mind into a mix of conflicting thoughts and emotions. I am certain that if Mitch were here he could resolve this for me quickly, and in the best way possible. But this is my own little conundrum I have created for myself, trying so hard to be smart, savvy and manipulative. I swallow hard as I knock on the Major General's door, prepared to do whatever necessary to save my ass.

A graying haired man peers up from his desk and I salute. He waves a dismissive hand and tells me to take a seat.

I plunk down in the chair across from his desk and ease back into the comforting cushions. A wave of sleepiness passes over me as I feel myself shutting down, and I have to push myself to stay alert.

"Lt. Barton," he says, his eyes boring through me. "As you well know there have been murders of our own, and one on this base."

My neck and face muscles are paralyzed and all I can do is nod my head.

"Well, we believe these murders were the result of you having an affair with Lt. McCoy." His expression is serious, sending a cold chill through my body.

With a shaky voice I say, "I was not involved with Lt. McCoy."

The room falls silent as his eyes penetrate so hard I can feel them. I am seized by the urge to confess and be done with it. I want to tell him I was romantically involved with Logan and I thought I loved him and him me. It is my fault he was murdered and I need to be punished for it. But as soon as I have these thoughts I shake them from my head. My time here is almost done. I will be going to California where I plan to spend my life with Mitch, grounded, reasonable Mitch who will keep me out of trouble and make me happier than I ever imagined.

"Lt. Barton, it's come to my attention that you're having relations with Colonel Powell, is this true?"

I cast my eyes down and immediately curse myself for this obvious act of deception. Why can't I just look at him and lie? Why must I let the strings of guilt manipulate me?

"I'm sorry that you've heard such an ugly thing," I sputter, angry that my voice in not as firm as I intend.

"Are you sure? If you're found guilty of perjury, you'll be court marshaled." His voice is hard and unyielding.

I gulp hard, look into the Major General's stern face and say, "I'm sorry, I'm a bit overwhelmed with everything that has been going on. I…I…liked Lt. McCoy…We we're friends. I was very sad when he died…and hurt that I've been accused of having an affair with him…and now Colonel Powell?" I gasp as the stress makes me break, and begin to sob.

"That'll be all then Lt. Barton," Says the Major General, without a care in the world for what I am feeling.

I wipe away the tears that fall down my cheeks and salute. When I leave the building I suddenly feel lighter and the cool breeze in the air takes away the heat in my face. My heart pounds fast and I think of Mitch. Reaching into my pocket I pull out my cell phone and text him the good news about my transfer. I am certain he will forgive me now that there will be no distance between us. Anxious for his reply, and knowing cell phones are not permitted in the classrooms, I take a risk by setting it to vibrate.

The day wears on to night and still no word from Mitch. Sitting alone in my room, lost in my thoughts I decide to call. I get voicemail. My finger presses his name again, and just as quickly strikes the end button. If he wants to talk to me he will, I convince myself, feeling miserable that he did not respond immediately to the good news. My mind begins to wander; perhaps he wants me to go to Japan to have an excuse to end our relationship once and for all.

My mind is clouded and I need to distract myself from my feelings. Throwing myself back on the mattress, I begin to stare at the ceiling, counting the tiles like I have done so many times before. Folding my hands over my eyes, I tell myself this is ridiculous, I cannot stop my life for Mitch. It has been so long since I had fun, I need to get out, I convince myself, and stop thinking, hoping, praying that Mitch forgive me. In my heart I know he will, but my nagging miserable negative me won't let go of the possibility that he has moved on.

I spring from the bed, pull on a jacket and head for the door, having decided to take a walk under the full moon that glows tonight. As I enter the dorm hall I have to giggle thinking, 'full moon – when all the crazies are out.' - Definitely knowing I must have a few screws loose.

"Lt. Barton," says a meek voice and I turn to see Lt. Porter. He approaches with caution and salutes.

"At ease soldier," I say. "What can I do for you?"

He looks back at the members of his flight. They sit quietly, studying like ordered. Pushing his hands into his pockets he begins to shift from foot to foot, then tilting his head away from the group he asks, "Can we talk?"

"I was just getting ready to take a walk," I say with as comforting a voice as possible. "Join me Porter."

I can feel the tension drain from him as he removes his hands from his pockets, slouches a little and smiles.

I question my motives as I resist the urge to fling my arms around his neck and kiss him. 'He's not Logan', I remind myself. Yet my mind wanders back to him, the same muscular build, green eyes, stubbly hair and cocky gait.

We exit the dorm and slowly make our way down the sidewalk. I purposely direct us toward the classroom building.

Porter stops, lets his breath out like a deflating balloon and faces me. Even under the dim light of the moon, and weak street lamps, I can see his serious expression relax. "Umm, Lt. Barton, I know my grades have been slipping, but I only actually failed one test. I sure'd appreciate it if you'd stop holding the first day of training against me."

"You understand that I had to do that in order to gain respect from the flight, right?" I ask with half-taunting humor.

"I do and I'm sorry. Really I am." His voice resonates with regret.

"What about your grades?" I ask, feeling disappointed he is not as smart as Logan.

"I've been having trouble focusing," he stammers. "My entire flight hates me and it's hard for me to deal with that."

I swallow hard, knowing exactly how he feels, and it is my fault. I reach out and grab his warm, slippery hand. It goes limp and I am certain he does not know how to react, but he does not pull away.

"I'm sorry I've been hard on you Porter," I say. "It's just you remind me of someone I used to know and well" – I step in closer, gently clasping his other hand – "We had a lot of fun together, but it ended badly."

He releases a nervous chuckle, squeezes my hands and says, "Oh wow, I…I thought you hated me."

"No, I don't," I say as I move his hands behind me. He takes the cue and places them on my hips, pulling me into his pelvis, but falls quiet, unsure of his next move.

I break the uncomfortable silence by blurting out what is on my mind. "I know it's crazy and totally against the rules, but I want to make wild passionate love to you." Images of Mitch's hurt eyes flash through my head, but I ignore them. "Follow me." I break away from his hold and look around, as if suddenly aware that people may be watching.

I lead the way and Porter follows closely behind, maybe a little too close. I quicken my pace, but he keeps up with me. When I round the building to the back door that remains unlocked, I stop and grab Porter as he turns the corner. He falls in close to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I cup his face in my hands and plant my lips on his.

We kiss passionately for several minutes, his silky tongue darting in and out of my mouth. I am surprised at what a good kisser he is, considering his youth and my expectation of little sexual experience.

I try to break free, but he presses me against the cold stucco building and begins pushing his pelvis hard against my abdomen. He is fully erect and I want to reach into his pants, but the moon glows bright and we are not completely obscured by the cover of darkness.

Finally, I manage to break free of Porter. "Let's go inside," I say breathlessly.

He makes a shuddering sigh as if a cold chill passes through his body, and then follows me through the door. We walk quietly hand in hand, navigating through the dark halls until we find an open classroom. I am relieved it is not the same one Logan and I had sex in, not wanting to compare the two men, even though I subconsciously continue to do so.

As soon as we enter the room he begins to pull off his shirt and I do the same. My skin prickles and my body begins to tremble in anticipation. I rush to him, grab at his belt and release the buckle. He fumbles clumsily at my breasts, but I push him away and continue to remove his pants. I grasp his penis and begin to move my hand in a slow rhythmic motion. He is fully erect, and while not as large as the Colonel, I am strangely thankful, sex sometimes having been uncomfortable with Lewis' penis pounding hard against my cervix.

Porter's breath grows heavy and small, sexy moans begin to escape him. I release his penis and begin to unbutton my pants, but this time he pushes away my hands and roughly jerks at the zipper, pulling them down. I kick off my boots and slip away from my clothes, throw my arms over his shoulders and wrap my legs around his waist.

His middle is firm and tight, just as I had hoped. He steps forward, gently placing me on the instructor's desk. He pivots over, and I gasp as my bare skin touches the cold metal surface. Porter chuckles, promises to warm me up and enters me with a rough thrust. Reaching under and behind my legs, he pulls me close and begins to slam me with all the energy I expect from a man his age. As I teeter on the edge of the desk, him standing over me, I look up into his face between our throws of passion and momentarily see Logan. I look away, shaking the fantasy and concentrate on Porter. He is not Logan, he is gentler and to the point. Even though I prefer sex that mixes pleasure with pain, I find myself highly aroused by his flexing muscles as he shifts his pelvis like a well experienced sex machine. I fix my eyes on his pecs and abdominals pull my legs further back and cry out as I begin to orgasm. Porter pumps harder and faster, then grabs me by the shoulders, pushing in as far as he can. I reach behind, gripping his buttocks and pull. I move my hips upward, then push down hard, causing a low guttural moan to escape him.

When he finishes he releases a small victory cry. I am irritated and humored at the same time by his immaturity, but given his skill, I instantly forgive him. He slips his hands under my arms and pulls me up. His lips find mine and he begins kissing me with more passion than I had felt with Logan. Throwing my arms around his neck I lock my legs around his waist and pull him in close. My lips find their way down his warm, salty neck. His softening penis throbs back to life and I start to shift my body back, pulling him down with me. Just as my skin is about to meet the cold metal desk the door flies open with a bang and a flash of light blinds me.

Gasping, I shift myself upright and cross my arms over my chest. Porter releases his hold on me and gives chase to a dark shadow that floats just as quickly out of the room as it did in. I rush to the door and poke out my head. I see Porter in pursuit, but the other person is too fast, and exits the building like a ghost in the night.

A visibly shaken Porter returns, pushing past me into the room. He quickly pulls on his clothes, all the while mumbling obscenities.

I stand still, paralyzed, scared, and wondering who would do such a thing.

"Get dressed Lt. Barton," says Porter, his voice grating with anger. "I think we need to leave before this joker sends the MP's after us."

"Mia," I whisper as I stare blankly at Porter, his scowl barely visible in the moonlight. He shakes his head in confusion. "You can call me Mia now, when we are alone, ok?"

He grasps me by the shoulders, his fingers digging into my flesh. "Mia, we need to leave."

I shake my head, trying to break free from the shock that has taken a cruel hold on me. "You're right." I collect my clothes and slowly pull them on. When I finish I look up at Porter and he stares back at me as if he is looking at a crazy person.

I am shaken by the thought that someone is watching me and will now kill Porter. "I'm sorry," I stammer and take a step toward him. He raises his arms and holds me back. It is more than I can take and I crumble into a sobbing mess.

"What's going on Mia?" he asks as his arms grow limp and he lets me fall into his chest.

My heart pounds with a strange panic. I cannot let him know my situation. It's too dangerous I swallow hard, collect myself and say. "I…I just think I've pissed off one too many people. I'm sorry you're now part of it."

"Who do you think it is?" he demands, giving me a little shake.

"I'm not sure," I say with honesty.

A sigh escapes him. "Mia, this is bad. We can both be kicked out of the military for this."

"I Know," I say with a quiver in my voice. "I'll find out who it is and take care of it. I promise."

A small moan escapes him, revealing his lack of confidence in my ability to resolve the situation. Still, he holds me tight, the warmth of his body comforting me. He begins to stroke my hair and I snuggle into his chest, close my eyes and imagine he is Logan.

After several minutes he places his hands on my shoulders, waking me from my fantasy. He pushes me back and says, "We need to go."

We leave together, not once touching. I exit the building first and Porter follows behind at a distance. When I enter the dorm, all my trainees' eyes shift in my direction, causing a wave of paranoia to rush over me. My eyes drift from face to face, searching for the culprit, but they shrink away from contact. Convinced none of them is guilty, my thoughts turn to Ben, and then to Lewis.

I enter my room, slamming the door with such force that I momentarily panic, thinking someone will be knocking at any minute to see what the commotion is all about. I plop on my bed and stare at the ceiling tiles yet again. A spell of dizziness overcomes me and I realize that I have been holding my breath. I release my lungs and make an effort to slow the rise in my chest. To my relief no one knocks on my door, but just as I start to relax, my stomach seizes when my phone bleeps.

Rushing over to my nightstand I wake the phone and see a text message from Mitch.

'Hey Mia, been busy, sorry…r u there?'

The corners of my mouth begin to turn up, then fall short of a smile as the hand of guilt takes hold of me. My affair with Porter was wrong, spontaneous, out of character. Have I turned in a whore? Why can't I just commit myself to Mitch? Convincing myself it was nothing more than a fling during a moment of weakness, I respond.

'I'm here.'

'Can I call?' he texts.

Although I long to hear his voice, I hesitate, worried he will read right through my guilt and discover my indiscretion. Who could have taken that picture? I rack my brains, my concentration being broken when my phone jingles.

I swallow hard and answer. "Mitch…It's so nice to hear your voice."

"You too, Mia," he says jubilantly. "I got your message about your transfer. I'm sorry I didn't respond sooner…I've really been having a hard time dealing with your infidelity…I am beginning to understand it though…the repressed sexual desires after years of an abusive relationship…the distance-"

"Mitch, I love you," I say with a heavy heart. "I…I've made mistakes, but I love you and only you." I push my fingers through my hair, unconsciously digging my nails into my scalp. How could I have been unfaithful to him once again after I promised him no more men, no more lies?

"Mia, I love you too. I'm hurt, but I'll get past it because I know you love me." His voice is low and rings with a sadness that makes my heart sink. "But enough about that that" – his voice perks up – "How lucky with the transfer, How'd you manage that?"

"Umm…well my grades are really good and one of the instructors kind of took me under his wing, and I mentioned my desire to got to Edwards and he looked into it and there was an opening," I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster.

"That's terrific!"

I pay careful attention to the inflection of his voice, thinking I hear a hint of suspicion, but conclude I am only being paranoid. It's behind me now, what is done is done, water under the bridge. It is time for me to move forward, but my thoughts turn to Porter. The sex I had with him was wild, crazy, spur of the moment. The excitement of breaking the rules made it spectacular. His youthful energy and tenderness afterward were more than what I expected. I want to make love to him again, but shake the thought from my head. I tell myself it's an infatuation – a fantasy – he is not Logan. Deep inside I know he is his own person and I desire him – Porter. He was sweet, tender and loved me in a painless way that I found different; yet just as pleasurable as the kinky sex I had with Logan, and then Lewis. But my heart belongs to Mitch and I cannot let another man complicate – cloud my thoughts.

"Mitch…should I put in for on base housing?" I ask cautiously.

"No Mia, I've prepared a room for you…I want you to stay with me."

"A room," I echo, my voice deflated.

"Temporary," Mitch throws in. "Until we get past this."

I release a disheartening sigh, and then an inexplicable burning rage rips through me. "Mitch, you lied to me and I forgave you. Why is this so hard for you to forgive me?" I yell.

"Mia," he practically gasps, clearly taken aback by my outburst. "This is different, you were unfaithful to me."

"It's different, but it's still deception," I fire back. "You told me that night in the bar…remember that night Mitch? You…you told me that your father abused your mother and you cried when you told me he died and you were happy. You cried Mitch…crocodile tears, right?"

"Mia, what's going on with you?" he asks, his voice rising dangerously. "I confessed my lie to you and you forgave me, but it does not compare-"

"You missed the point," I shoot back with a venomous hiss. "You fucking cried about it…cried Mitch…You didn't have to go so far as to cry, put on an act for me….How many other lies have you told me?"

"I have no other lies Mia," He retorts. "I didn't want to scare you away. It was wrong I know, but apparently you're not ready to forgive me. You shouldn't have told me you forgave me if you didn't mean it…feel it."

"I do forgive you Mitch," I respond with a quiver in my voice. "But the degree of your act to convince me is what bothers me…the act Mitch." I take a deep breath and before I can stop myself I blurt, "Did you kill Logan?"

The line falls silent.

"Mia, goddammit, I didn't kill your lover. I love you Mia, but not enough to murder. If you love me and want to be with me then it'll happen for us. I'm certainly not going to run around knocking off men just to win your heart." He pauses to catch his breath, then plunges on, "I…I don't understand Mia…you think you can be unfaithful to me, and I should just ignore it? You're trying too hard to convince yourself that I'm in the wrong…I mean listen to yourself…Do you really think me capable of murder? Didn't I rescue you from Ben? Isn't Ben a sociopath? If anyone is to blame Mia it's you. If you had pressed charges against Ben and had him put away your boyfriend would still be alive." Another pause, this one more uncomfortable than the first. "You know…I'm sorry…I can't believe it never occurred to me before. You're in love with Logan…a dead man and blame me."

I shake my head as if my scalp is crawling with biting insects. "No, Mitch…no you're wrong. I've always loved you and only you." My words dissolve into a choking sob as my body heaves with emotion. "I'm sorry…you're right I'm out of line…I'm just so lonely here and confused…I worry the killer may strike again."

Once again the line falls silent and then a heavy sigh. "Mia, why would the killer strike again?" he asks in barely contained fury. "Are there other men you haven't told me about?"

"Yeah Mitch, just one…you," I practically whisper. "He knows I love you and he may kill you next."

"God Mia, oh God, you're afraid of losing me aren't you?" His voice takes a softer tone.

"I'm very afraid…as long as I believe you may be the killer I know you're safe, it makes no sense and it's wrong…I know," I gasp for air, finding it difficult to breathe through my shallow sobs and stuffy nose. "I just want you to be safe and I want you to love me. None of this separate room, time to get over it shit…I'm sorry…I'm suffering, can't you see that?"

"I…I do Mia," He releases a small chuckle. "I'm a smart guy…at law, but I'm no shrink. I'm sorry. I imagine you're under a lot of stress…Mia…come to California…come live me…my room…my…no…our bed. I want to feel your warmth, wrap my arms around you, and make love to you."

"Do you forgive me Mitch?" I ask, my heart blooming with hope.

"I…I do Mia."

"I love you Mitch." I smile as I wipe away the tears in my eyes. "Mitch, the open house is Thursday and I graduate Friday…can I expect to see you? Can you make it?"

"I'm not sure if I can make it Thursday, but I'll be there for your graduation Mia," he says. "I've…I've got to go…I love you."

The lines drops just as I whisper, "me too."

Placing my phone on the nightstand I sit in silent thought for several minutes. Although I want to see Porter again, I am determined to resist. I do love Mitch and he loves me. I know that now and will never let an argument cloud my heart again. Still I worry about the picture and the person who could ruin me. I'm certain now it was Lewis' handiwork and am determined to find him in the morning and confirm it.