Sara almost thought she heard John wrong in the loud pub. The laughter and talking always increased throughout the evening and soon they would be forced to yell to hear one another. "What did you mean John?" She realized something had gripped her. It was something she couldn't recognize, but she suspected it resembled hope.

"Another drink?" A women asked them.

John nodded.

"Whiskey please." Sara said loudly.

The woman went to the next table and John leaned forward to be heard. "I thought you would have heard. I left you a letter." He seemed a little exasperated.

"I've been away," she managed to say. "I was gone six weeks and only returned yesterday."

There's something in John's expression she can't decipher. She can't even tell if he's happy to see her. The man usually wore every expression on his face and Sara is frustrated that she doesn't know what is in his head.

"It happened a week before the wedding," John said quietly.

Sara can't stop herself from pushing her chair closer to his. She can hardly hear his words and he seems to be in discomfort to say them.

"It is all over. Violet has left." He said dismissively.

Sara is left confused and unsatisfied. "John, please. What happened?" She somehow needed to know, but is worried she is pushing.

John winced slightly, but continues. "She wasn't with a child as she said she was. It was a rouse between her and Hearst to ensure we married."

Sara's heart hurt for John and she almost reached out to touch his hand that clutched his empty glass, but she stopped herself.

Now she noticed it, the deeper wrinkles around eyes, his hair slightly longer, curling up slightly by his neck. He looked exhausted. "I'm so sorry John," she finally said.

The women dropped off their drinks. Sara didn't know what John was drinking and eyed his glass.

"It's not alcohol," he caught her eye. "You missed those spectacular weeks of me drinking everything in sight."

Sara grimaced and felt the guilt gnawing at her. Why hadn't she been here for him? How could have she known? And suddenly Bitsy's insistence of reading those damn articles came back to her. She was trying to warn her. Why didn't she just say it instead of being so mysterious? Sara's dismissive mood probably hadn't helped the situation. She'd been so insistent on pushing everything behind her and out of sight that she had missed something so important. She was sure it would have been in the Boston papers if she ever looked at the society pages.

Sara took a long drink of whiskey, feeling untethered from the situation. She had come over here to see the man she cared for deeply, knowing he was married. She had wanted to rekindle their friendship and knowing now that he was alone again, she had trouble knowing what to say next. She took a breath to steady herself. "You said you sent me a letter?"

John nodded slightly. "I didn't want to burden you with my mistakes, but I had hoped you would be there as a friendly sight. When I didn't hear back, I assumed you needed space from the situation."

Sara shook her head insistently. "I just got back. I wished you'd called the agency and they would have told you where I was."

"I didn't want to bother you. And after what happened…between us, I wasn't sure if you wanted me in your life."

Sara almost felt close to tears, she was so taken aback by his words. "That would never be true John." His soft brown eyes met hers and she smiled softly. "I'm so sorry that I wasn't there for you John."

"You couldn't have known. When I didn't hear from you and with Laszlo gone, it was not easy. I missed you both terribly. Even though Laszlo would have gone on about the mind being resilient because the heart is not involved in emotions. It's just a muscle like your leg or your arm." He laughed a little. He looked at her with curiosity. "Although maybe you'd agree with him."

It's then that Sara realized that there was something different in him than the last time she'd seen him. He didn't seem to have that hope in him. If anything, he seemed a little broken, slight bitterness in his words. But this was John Moore. He put his heart outside of himself with no concern for what would happen to it. She should know. She had rebuffed him more than once and now she felt regret. Perhaps he wasn't as resilient as she'd once thought.

"Can I escort you home?" John asked. He didn't look hopeful for her answer. He was merely asking.

She nodded and finished her whiskey in one swallow. A taxi took them along the streets, neither of them speaking.

"How was Boston?" John finally asked, breaking the silence.

"It was an unexpected outcome." She managed. "I was glad to be home." Even in the darkness, Sara can see the pain in John's eyes, a flash as they passed the light from a pub or brothel. "Perhaps we can meet again soon? For supper one evening?" She asked hopefully.

They pulled in front of her house.

"Perhaps," John said, but he didn't say it with his usual enthusiasm.

Sara paused than gave his hand a brief squeeze. "It was good to see you John Moore." She exited the carriage quickly and took the stairs to her door. She was worried he would change his mind and come to her. She was worried he wouldn't.

And as she opened the door, distracted by her emotions and thoughts, she didn't notice him. The man standing across the street, leaning against the brick building. He had been waiting for her. He watched as Sara closed the door and the carriage carrying John Moore continued on. The man smiled slightly and walked away.