A/N: Hey guys. I told you this update would be coming a little quicker than usual, as I've been harder at work on the story lately. The next one should also be coming pretty quick as well, so don't worry. We are getting closer to Heath's return, I promise. I just apologize if the pace of the story and how I update it seems slow at times. I tend to be very...expressive when I write, and I'm one that's all about the details, so sometimes I take a while to move from one point to another. I appreciate all of you guys so much who read and review this story, you have no idea. It really does give me encouragement and motivation, so I'll just ask you to keep it coming and continue to be patient with me on this. Hope you enjoy the update--Jess

Chapter Thirty Six: Grieving

Cat didn't like the look on Kane's face when she arrived at his office that morning. She couldn't read or make out what it meant.

He'd called her that morning, two days since she'd last been in his office and asked her to come in- but wouldn't tell her over the phone what the reason was. "Please, Miss Ernshawl," he said, "Please just come- and bring Edgar with you."

It was that last request- that she bring Edgar with her- that unnerved her most of all. Cat always went to see Kane alone, he knew that. And she had a feeling that he also knew that that was how she preferred it to be.

And yet he had said to bring Edgar anyway. The tone of his voice had been firmly insistent and serious- even more serious than it usually was.

Edgar was being unusually considerate to her (especially considering the frigidness that had existed between them as of late). On the drive to Kane's, he had reassured her that there was probably nothing wrong- that Kane had probably just found a new lead as to where Heath had gone. Cat had only half listened to him as she stared out the window of the passenger's seat anxiously, her hands fidgeting in lap.

When they arrived at the office, and Kane had opened the door for them to come in, Cat nearly pounced on him, "What is it?" she asked almost immediately, "What's wrong?"

"Miss Ernshawl, Edgar," Kane said in greeting, "Why don't you two sit down?" he gestured to the chair in front of his desk. Edgar did start to go for one, but Cat didn't follow him. She remained standing where she was by the door, hands clenched at her sides. She didn't know why she was feeling so paranoid all of a sudden…but she was. Very much so.

"Tell me what's happened." She said, "Did you get a new lead? Did one of the neighbors find out where he'd gone?"

Kane exchanged a glance with Edgar. Cat felt a twist in her stomach at that look. What was going on here that he didn't want to tell her? "C'mon Miss Ernshawl, please let's just sit down and talk about this-"

"I saw that." she broke in rigidly.

"What? You saw what?"

"I saw that look. You're not telling me something. You don't want to…what is it? What happened?"

She felt Edgar's hand take hers and give it a gentle pull, "Catherine, let's just sit down first-"

She yanked her hand out of his grip, shouting, "I don't want to sit down! I want someone to tell me what the hell is going on here!"

Kane was silent for a long moment, looking away from her. "Cat." He said at last, "I really…really think you need to sit down. Right now."

Cat stared at him, her face blank. The longer she looked at him, the more she was able to read in his face.

Then, she knew. She knew what it was he wasn't saying. What it was he wanted her to be sitting down to hear.

It was like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water in her face in slow motion. She felt like she'd been whiplashed; slowly and lingeringly so that she could feel every brusque, brutal motion.

Her heart skipped a beat. Suddenly she felt like she was going to be sick all over the carpet.

"No." she heard a voice whisper, then realized it was her own.

Kane's face seemed strained and nervous, as if he was trying to find the words to say to her, "There was a…a fire shortly after you left the apartment building."

"No." There was a roaring sound in her ears, making Kane's voice seem distant and far away.

"It spread to the upper levels of the building and nearly destroyed it. The fire department managed to get some people out but-"

"No." Cat was breathing harder and faster now, her eyes had an incredible burning sensation behind them. Her throat felt as though it were shrinking, making it harder for her draw breath from her lungs.

"There was a number of people who either were missing or… didn't make it out."

"No. No..." Her heart was beating faster and faster. Why was that roaring sound in her ears so overpowering? Why was it becoming so hard to breathe?

"Cat, Heath was among the number of people that are presumed to be either missing or-"

"No!" she suddenly shrieked at the top of her lungs, "No, no, no, no, no, NOOOO!" the last word ended in a wail, that then faded into a scream. She moaned sharply, eyes wide and unseeing as she covered her mouth with her hands, as if to try and stifle the sobs heaving up her throat.

Edgar was at her side, trying to take her into his arms. But she was frantically fighting him off, trying to bolt and run for the door. She had to get out, she had to get to the East Side- she had to go back. She had to find Heath. She

Now both Edgar and Kane had to hold her, stop her from swinging her arms and fists at them to try and break free. She was screaming and sobbing uncontrollably- cursing them in between agonized cries of Heath's name.

Her chest felt so tight and constricted. She felt dizzy. The room was spinning, faster and faster. Edgar's horrified face was now a blur to her, continually fading away into a rapidly growing, inky darkness….

Cat awakened from a dreamless sleep- slowly at first, her eyelids slowly cracking open to the dimness of the bedroom. They first found the ceiling, locking onto the fan that made lazy circles through the air. Cat's mind wandered for a few moments- a few moments where everything was alright. Where the world was normal.

Then she remembered. She remembered what she was doing in the bed, and why she hadn't left it for two days- and the tears came back like a flood, spilling down over her cheeks in silent streams. Cat's mouth was parted slightly to allow for the passage of quiet weeping. Her chest rose and fell to meet it, over and over again.

Suddenly she felt a light touch on her wrist, a stroking soothing one. She turned her head to look.

Ellie looked down at her sympathetically as she murmured, "It's alright, hon. It's alright."

Cat's face crumbled at the sight of her, and she sat up far enough to throw herself into Ellie's open, familiar arms. She cried against her chest for a long time while the older woman simply stroked her hair and back.

"Oh God…" Cat moaned, "Oh God, no…noooo…"

"Shhh…it's alright."

No, it wasn't alright, Cat thought vehemently. It wasn't alright, and it would never be alright again. This wasn't a dream, not some terrible nightmare. It was real, all of it was real.

Heath was dead. He was gone- really gone forever this time.

She really had screamed, sobbed and railed like a madwoman in Kane's office. They really had had to take her to the hospital- the doctor really had been forced to give her a sedative just to calm her down. She really had thought about swallowing the bottle full of codeine pills in the cabinet in the bathroom, it hadn't been a dream. She'd even held the bottle in her hands, staring at it fixedly- that was how Edgar found her. A psychiatrist really had come down to do a psych consult- she hadn't imagined telling him through a voice that shook with tears to go to hell- she'd really done that. The past few days of her staying holed up in this room alone weeping hadn't been in her mind- they had really happened. And now she supposed that Ellie's being here was real too. All of it was true.

"But it can't be…" she whimpered, "It just can't be…"

"What can't be, honey?" Ellie asked.

"It can't be true. I won't let it be true. It wasn't supposed to happen like this- not like this…"

"It was an accident, Cat. Just an accident."

"I can't live without…oh my God…I can't live without…" She couldn't even say his name. His name alone would have been too painful for her to even speak.

"Shh, yes you can…yes you can..." Ellie was murmuring as she rocked Cat back and forth.

"It hurts…" Cat sobbed, "Oh God, Ellie, it hurts so bad…"

"I know, sweetheart. I know it does." Her eyes briefly went to the cracked bedroom door, then reaverted to Cat.

From outside in the hallway, Edgar stood very still as he watched the scene inside the bedroom. His face was wracked with an overwhelming bleakness as he looked at the two women, but especially when he looked at Cat. When he couldn't stand it any longer, he turned away, pressing his face into his palm with a heavy sigh, ragged with what could have been mistaken for tears of his own…

Hours later, when Cat had cried herself to sleep, Ellie emerged from the bedroom, her face tired and somber. She quietly shut the door behind her, then padded down the hallway and down the stairs of the quiet, darkened house in search of Edgar.

She found him in his father's study, the entire room dark, save for a single lamp on the large desk he sat at. A bottle of Jack Daniels was sitting in front of him, a half empty glass directly beside that. Edgar was staring at the glass with a blind, glazed over numbness, sitting absolutely still in the chair.

As Ellie approached him, he made no movements, and said nothing for a long moment. "How is she?" he asked dully.

"She's sleeping." Ellie answered, "Edgar, you need to get some rest yourself. You look terrible."

He gave a small snort, his mouth upturning bitterly "She's sleeping," he repeated, his words slightly slurring, "That's good. Then I'll be able to actually get in bed without feeling her entire body tense up. I can even hold her for a few hours and pretend she still loves me."

Ellie was shaking her head dismissively, "That's ridiculous, Edgar, you know Cat loves you."

But he acted as though he didn't hear her, only tipping the bottle, pouring more of the amber colored liquid into the glass, "You see…I can only hold her when she's sleeping, Ellie- she won't let me lay a finger on her if she's awake." He took a sip from the glass, giving a short grimace as he swallowed, "We haven't made love in over six months, did you know that? She stopped wanting to. She was so worried sleeping with me would be betraying Him…" he shook his head "It's just…so damn funny, isn't it? She's engaged to marry me," he touched his chest, "But she's worried about being unfaithful to Him…" he clumsily waved his hand outward, "Isn't that funny, Ellie? Isn't it just the most hilarious thing you've ever heard in your life?"

Ellie was coming around the desk, taking the glass out of Edgar's hand and setting it down, "Edgar, listen you're drunk and you need to go to bed-"

"No, no, I take it back," he said shaking his head, "That's not the most hilarious thing you've ever heard of, is it? I'm what's hilarious. I'm the joke. Not her, not even him- it's…" he gave a little chuckle, "It's me. See a long time ago, I…I got this idea in my head…that if you sacrificed for the people you loved- if you gave them everything they wanted…they'd actually love you back. I gave up my photography for my dad and took a job that I can't fucking stand…and now he's going to die-"

"Edgar, don't say that, you don't know it for-"

"And now I'm stuck having to be him for the rest of my life. I did everything I could to see Cat became a successful model. I thought that if I could give her more than He could…she would love me more then she loved Him. It made so much sense to me back then…" He shook his head in apparent self disgust, "God…I was such a fucking idiot! How could I have been that stupid?!"

"C'mon," she said, trying to take him by the arms and help him out of the chair, "C'mon let's just go to bed, alright?"

"I couldn't keep her by being the good guy," he was mumbling, "I tried, Ellie. I really did… but I just couldn't. So I tried being the bad guy…" he gave a mirthless, broken laugh, "And I couldn't even get that right, could I? I just fucked that up too. She's upstairs lying in that bed even worse…because of me."

"Edgar, Heath's dying had nothing to do with you." Ellie said briskly. He laughed then- a sharp, grating sound. She looked into his glazed, blue eyes and saw that they were shining with unshed tears,

"That's right, Ellie." He said drily, "He's dead… and it was just an accident, just a horrible accident…" She threw one of his arms over her shoulder blades and used her free arm to clasp around his lean waist, while the other gripped his hand as she helped him walk towards the door,

Edgar was breathing heavily and she could smell the alcohol on his warm breath. Then she could feel his body shaking. She looked up and saw that he was crying; soft, but brokenhearted sobs escaped from his lips, followed by more mumblings and mutterings,

"I'm sorry…I ju-I just…I love her…I didn't mean to her hurt her like…like…oh God, I just love her so…oh Dad…Dad, what do I…how do I…" the words became lost in his weeping.

"You need sleep." Ellie was saying, "You just need to get some sleep…"

She led him out of the room and up the stairs, trying to keep her mind focused upon getting Edgar to bed- and not on the things he had confessed aloud in his drunkenness. She was far too tired and weary herself to think and worry about all of that…

The night air was still and cool.

Cat sat on the balcony outside of her and Edgar's bedroom and stared out at the city skyline in solemn silence. For what was the first time in days, she hadn't been crying. The raw hysteria of grief that she'd first experienced had given way to a more withdrawn, solemn kind of mourning. It was true that thinking of Heath was still enough to make the tears well in her eyes. But she was becoming better at refusing to let them fall down her face, or the sobs escape her lips. She was more calm about it now- whatever pain she still felt she was able to internalize, so that she alone would know she was feeling it.

Some things however had still not changed. She didn't eat very much. She kept to herself often. He was always in her thoughts. And she still dreamed of him.

The dreams, Cat knew, would probably never end. Nor would the unexplainable, but undeniably powerful feeling she had of Heath's presence. Some days it was as though nothing had changed- that he was merely back at home, still working in The Heights, waiting for her to come back to him. On those days, he had never run away. He wasn't dead. He was still there waiting for her- not her waiting for him when he was never coming back…

Cat allowed her eyes to drift shut. She felt the gentle breeze of the wind and shivered, the hairs on her arms standing up on edge,

"How can you be gone,"she whispered softly, "When I can still feel you with me?"

"Cat?"

She sharply turned her head at the sound of Ellie's voice. The older woman stood in the double doorway of the balcony, arms folded across her chest as she looked over at her,

"I thought I'd find you out here."

Cat turned back around to look at the skyline, "It's peaceful." She murmured, "I've always loved looking at the lights- ever since I first got here."

"I know. I understand why- they're beautiful…" They both were silent for a few moments, then Ellie spoke again,

"Look, Cat…I have to go back home. I've been here long enough- I need to get back to Harry and Henry,"

"I thought you said you left Harry with Mrs. Jenkinson," Cat said, referring to the middle-aged neighbor who lived down the road from her old house, to which Ellie nodded,

"I did. But I can't expect her to keep him forever. Besides…I miss that baby too much."

A small smile turned up Cat's lips, "You love him, don't you?" she murmured, to which Ellie nodded firmly,

"Damn right I do…" then she gave a wry shrug, "And I know I better get back to that house before that brother of yours burns it to the ground!" Cat nodded in sardonic agreement at that, as Ellie commented,

"You've been out here for hours."

Cat gave her a bleak, half smile, "Have I? It doesn't seem that way. You've been gone a while. Were you at the hospital?"

Ellie nodded, her facial expression suddenly becoming more somber. Cat noticed and frowned a little, "What's the matter?" she asked.

"Cat…while I was there, the doctor treating Mr. Linton came and talked to the family. Since he's been in the coma for over two weeks with no change and still hasn't woken up…he wants them to consider taking Mr, Linton off the breathing machine."

Cat stared at her, "You mean…let him die?"

Ellie nodded again, "Yes."

"Well…are they going to do it?"

"There seems to be a division in the family. Isabella and Linda seem to think that it's the one last thing that they can do for him. They both agree that he wouldn't want to go on like this any longer. But Edgar…" she let her voice trail off, but Cat was already nodding understandingly,

"He won't do it."

"No, he won't. And before the stroke, Mr. Linton gave Edgar power of attorney. So he gets to decide."

"God…" Cat sighed, combing her fingers through her hair.

"Cat, listen." Ellie's tone became more serious, "I think you need to come to the hospital and talk to him. I want you to." But Cat was already shaking her head in refusal,

"Ellie…there's nothing I can do!" she answered, "I mean what- what am I expected to do about any of this?! It's none of my business."

"None of your business? Cat, Edgar is your fiancée!"

"So that means I have the right to tell him to pull the plug on his own father?! That's ridiculous! I'd be better off just staying out of it!"

"Fine then!" Ellie's voice was escalating into a yell, "Don't persuade him into doing anything, but don't just sit here and do nothing! Get your skinny little ass over to that hospital and just be there, Cat! Hold his hand, hug him, sit next to him, listen to him if he wants to talk- Just be there for him!"

"Ellie, I just don't know if I have it in me right now to try and help someone else when I still can't-"

"Stop it!" Ellie suddenly snapped, her voice as sharp as a whip, "Just stop it, Cat! Do you hear me? Stop with this mourning and pining after Heath, and just get the hell over it!"

"He's dead, Ellie!" she shrieked, "He's not gone on some road trip or vacation- he's never coming back! Ever!"

"That's right, Cat. He's not coming back-so that means you have a good cry, then get up, and get on with your life! You don't live the rest of your life like it's some damn wake! You don't make the rest of the people in your life suffer because you lost him- especially when those people love and worry about you so much. That doesn't make me feel sorry for you- it makes me think you're spoiled and pathetic."

"Shut up and leave me alone!" Cat seethed through eyes that were beginning to brim, "You don't understand- none of you could ever understand all that he meant to-"

"I understand more than you think." She retorted coldly, "Probably more than you do yourself. Take a piece of advice and get in that house and fix your face- he's not worth all the tears you're crying. He's not worth a single one."

"What?!" Cat breathed in angry horror, "How could you say something like that? How when you practically helped Dad raise him? How, when you knew him?"

A muscle was working in Ellie's jaw and suddenly she too almost seemed on the verge of tears, "Because I do know him." She muttered, her voice like a knife, "I know him, Cat- even more than you do."

Cat frowned then, looking at Ellie queerly, "What do you mean?" she asked, "What are you talking about?"

Ellie stared at her in stubborn silence for a long moment, saying nothing. At last, she merely shook her head, "Just…listen. What you're doing to Edgar because of this…what you're doing to yourself- it's wrong, Cat. All of it is wrong. And you know it. You need to let Heath go- d'you hear me? He's dead. You can't change that. But you can make sure you still hold onto what you've still got. Hold onto your job, Cat, your job as a successful model. Hold onto your fiancée- he's a wonderful man who loves you. Hold onto those things, and let Heath go. Let him go and move on with your life-before it crumbles around you and you don't even have one to live anymore."

Cat's tears were rolling down her cheeks in slow, fat droplets, falling onto her shirt and staining it. She looked straight ahead at the skyline as Ellie spoke, pressing her lips together tightly. A long silence followed, where neither of then said anything.

Finally, Cat murmured, "I know…I know he's gone. It's just-" she shook her head through her tears, letting her voice drop to a whisper, "I just don't know how to live without him. I don't even know where how to st-start!"

Ellie laid a hand on her arm, "Come with me to the hospital." She replied softly, "Why don't we start with that?"

Cat hesitated for a few more seconds, then slowly nodded her head, sniffling and wiping at her eyes, "Okay." She whispered. "Okay…"

Cat hesitated for a few moments as she and Ellie approached the entrance to Gregory Linton's hospital room. Edgar was inside alone, his back to them as he looked down at the unconscious old man in the bed. Linda and Isabella had already left, they'd met them on their way out as Ellie and Cat were coming in.

Cat bit her lip, feeling nervous all of a sudden. As if able to sense this, Ellie gave her arm an encouraging squeeze, "Go on." She urged her softly, "It's alright. Just go and talk to him."

Cat nodded and without another word went forward and into the room. Ellie lingered in the doorway, choosing not to go inside. Instead, she chose to watch as Cat slowly approached Edgar from behind. Her hand touched his shoulder and he looked up at her, their gazes locking with one another. For a long time, neither moved.

Then, his hand came up and rested on hers. Cat used her other hand to gently stroke his face.

Edgar abruptly stood up from the chair and pulled her into his arms, embracing her tightly as he buried his face in her hair. Cat held him and stroked his back as he cried silently. He kissed her hair, then her temple, then her cheek. When their lips met, Edgar kissed Cat with a grief stricken desperation, still crying as he held her head with his hands.

Ellie reached for the door knob, and pulled the door closed, giving them their privacy. She sighed with weary satisfaction before walking off down the hall.

Cat was there with Edgar when they took Gregory Linton off the breathing machines. She held his hand, feeling the nearly painful way he squeezed it as they heard the monotonous, beeping tone that signaled his father's passing. She went with him, Isabella and Linda to the funeral home to handle all of the arrangements. She even offered to go with him for the reading of the will, but Edgar told her that she didn't have to.

She was surprised at how well she was able to keep herself composed throughout the entire ordeal- she was surprised at how much she was able to suppress the grief she still had over losing Heath.

Perhaps it was the funeral and all its arrangements that helped, in a strange, morbid kind of way. As she helped put Edgar's father to rest, Cat suddenly found herself imagining that she was doing all of those things for Heath. That she was giving her opinion on what kind of coffin he should be buried in, or what kind of tombstone she liked best. It was a bizarrely easy thing for her to imagine she found.

The funeral however, was harder to endure. Cat sat in between Edgar and Isabella, only half there in consciousness. Her gaze was distant and blank, but her mind was full.

She listened to the many speeches and eulogizing that Gregory Linton's friends and family gave him- but all the while she was thinking of what was in her heart to say about Heath, how she would have eulogized him at his funeral. As people reminisced about old times with the wealthy businessman, she thought of countless days and nights spent with Heath when they were still teenagers back home; in the house, in the forest, by the river, in their tree, in the Heights. She thought of the Indian Chief motorcycle that Dad had given him, and the way she'd held onto him as he drove it for miles into the wilderness surrounding their home. She thought of the days she'd woken him up to watch the sunrise with her, and the nights she snuck into his room when she couldn't sleep so that he could hold her to his chest and stroke her back and hair until she became drowsy. She thought of his eyes- piercing and green. His hair that was sometimes black as night, but in the summertime tinted with golden streaks. His body had been lean and smooth, she'd only come up to the center of his chest, he'd grown so tall over the years. His hands- with the long fingers and vice-like grip, roughened by laboring in The Heights, the hands that touched her as only Heath's could…

The remembering was harder than anything else. It hurt- it hurt so badly. By the time the funeral had come to an end, Cat was genuinely sobbing, her cries blending into the sound of the others mourners. Edgar held her around the shoulder, kissing her forehead as she leaned against his shoulder. He would never know that the tears she so bitterly shed at his father's funeral were for another…

She still hadn't stopped crying by the time the procession got to the cemetery. She watched the coffin being lowered into the ground with the others and felt a dull ache shoot through her almost painfully. She closed her eyes, unwilling to watch anymore. The sound of that first clod of earth hitting the wood of the coffin echoed through her ears. A single sob escaped her lips.

I love you, Heath, she thought, Always, I love you. Goodbye…

She sat in front of the mirror in the bedroom, combing her hair. The strokes Cat took were slow and apathetic. She stared at her reflection, numbly, ignoring the way the brush crackled and snapped at the hair.

The door opened and Edgar came inside. She stopped brushing her hair. Their eyes met in the reflection and held for a long moment.

"How's your mother?" Cat asked him at last.

"She's sleeping." He answered. "Isabella's sitting with her now." More silence, then, "Are you alright?"

"Yes."

He nodded his head, murmuring, "Good." Cat looked at him closely. His face was full of so much fatigue and melancholy. He had that distinct look of someone who is either too overwhelmed or exhausted to cry. She recognized that look- she had it on her own face.

"You must be so tired." She said, but he shook his head,

"No, I'm alright. Really, I am." He began walking closer to her, taking slow, languid steps. He ran his hands over the back of her head, combing his fingertips through her hair. His touch drifted to her shoulder, grazing the bare skin there. Cat didn't turn around, looking straight into the mirror. When their eyes met again, she saw something new in his eyes: desire.

"Ellie's going back home tomorrow," she said quietly, "I have to go with her to the airport."

Edgar nodded, "I'll go with you."

"You don't have to if-"

"No. I want to." His fingers were still stroking her skin. "I want to."

Cat looked down in her lap where her hands were resting. Her eyes went to the ring finger on her left hand. The diamond engagement ring that Edgar had given her sparkled and caught the light in the room. For the past few months, she'd almost forgotten that it was even there. She touched the biggest diamond in it once with her index finger.

Edgar noticed that she was looking at the ring. He came around to her side, kneeling down on one knee before her. He took her left hand in both of his, looking up into her face with simple earnestness. Cat looked at him closely. She saw the shadows beneath his eyes that had not been there the last time he'd knelt down before her like this. There were the smallest start of wrinkles, at the corners of his eyes. And there, at the place where his temples met his hairline, there was a small patch of blonde hair that had been invaded by silver.

But then she looked into his eyes- his gentle, blue eyes, and all that the exhaustion had done to imperfect his features seemed nonexistent to her. He was still Edgar. He was still handsome. That had never changed.

Edgar 's thumbs rubbed over the skin of her hand slowly. He gave a single, quiet sigh before murmuring, "Catherine Rowena Ernshawl…I love you."

Cat let her eyes drift shut when she realized what he was doing…again. There was such a bittersweetness to it this third time around- now after so much had happened.

"I…" Edgar paused, swallowing once. "I will always…always love you." His voice was becoming increasingly hoarse with emotion she knew wasn't just sadness, "I don't ever want to know what it's like to not have you here with me. You're all I want. You're all I ever dreamed of. You're-" he broke off abruptly, steeling himself against what seemed like tears. When he spoke again, it was in a whisper, "You're the only dream I have left. So will you, Cat... please agree to marry me, and become my wife?"

Cat's own eyes were swimming now. Her throat felt tight and her hands inside of Edgar's were trembling. She looked down at him in silence for a few moments.

She raised his hand up to her lips, and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Then another. And another.

Cat slid off the chair, and sank down to join Edgar on the floor. She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him without one word. It was long and heartfelt- on both sides.

Cat could feel the wetness on his cheeks- it mingled with the wetness on her own. She tasted his tears with hers- the taste of their grief. When their lips finally parted, they kept their faces close to one another. Edgar's touch was so soft and gentle- and yes, it felt good to her. So very good.

"Make love to me." She whispered to him. She felt the surprise come over him- it looked back at her though his eyes as he stared at her for a moment,

"Are you…are you sure?" he asked her, and she saw the uncertainty, the fear he felt that she would turn him out again.

As if to assuage his fears, Cat leaned forward kissing him more forcefully. She held his hands and brought them to her body, guiding them to touch her. "You're the most gentle, kind man that I've ever known," she murmured when her lips broke away from his, "I want to be your wife…even if I don't deserve to be. And I want you to make love to me, Edgar. Now."

He didn't hesitate this time, kissing her with a fervent passion that she responded to. They were still kissing one another when Edgar picked her up and carried her to the bed, when he laid her down and began to undress her.

It was the very first time that she and Edgar had made love that Cat didn't think about Heath. In fact, when even the beginnings of a thought about him tried to enter her mind, she pushed it away, banishing it to a place in her mind that couldn't be touched or retrieved…