Here's the next chapter! By the way, there's a statement at the bottom that may confuse some. It's in reference to a character in Chekhov's "On Love" that he told Grace to read. It will be explained further in the future.

xXx

Grace's world slowly spun back into place, and her eyes seemed to find their focus. Her mind slowed and she was able to finally utter a fully constructed sentence. Unfortunately, August had the same idea, and at the same exact time they both uttered, "What are you doing here?"

Celia gazed at the two in a state of complete confusion. For a moment, Grace caught herself thinking that the blonde suddenly didn't look so perfect. Pulling her eyes away from Celia, Grace forced herself to look up at August. He hadn't changed much. He was older, naturally, but he aged gracefully, making him look more distinguished and wiser. Grace thought time suited him well.

She caught him staring at her, and she felt guilty for feeling pleased with herself. Of course he would be staring at her. She was, after all, standing in his kitchen after all these years, completely unable to utter an explanation for why. In fact, she couldn't quite remember why she was here. Hadn't it been an important matter?

"Honey, um…Grace was interested in renting our house…" Celia began, trying to regain her composure. "I…I take it you two know each other?"

Suddenly, Grace felt angry. Sure, what they had was buried in the past, but didn't it mean enough for him to at least tell his new girlfriend? Had her name never come up? Did she really mean that little to him?

"Yeah," August breathed, as if trying to awake from an eerie dream. "Grace was a former student of mine. She's was very talented. I'm certain that talent has grown?"

It was more a statement than a question, and Grace blushed nevertheless. She smiled sheepishly, suddenly feeling like a four year old playing in an "adults only" room.

"Yeah, he was my English teacher," Grace explained. "He also directed our school play my junior year." Her eyes remained firmly on Celia's. "He was great," she added, suddenly wishing she had kept her mouth shut.

But Celia didn't seem to notice the awkward ways in which Grace's eyes shifted nervously, or the way August kept clearing his throat and fidgeting nervously. Grace was thankful for her lack of observation.

"Well," Celia began. "This is perfect actually. I mean, I have a meeting I should really get to, and since you two know each other, I don't feel guilty leaving you alone with him Grace. So, August, honey, why don't you show Grace around? I mean, I know you were her teacher before, but it's not as if she's ever seen your place." Grace decided not to protest this point; besides, August looked as if he would murder her if she let this piece of information slip. "Is that all right?" Celia asked, leaving no real room for argument.

"Great," August grinned, and Grace could see how forced his smile was. She wanted to leave. She didn't want to stay anywhere she wasn't welcome. And, August wasn't looking too thrilled to see her.

"Perfect," Celia said, clasping a small white purse. "I'll be back soon," she insisted, kissing August softly on the cheek. Grace tried to look away, but couldn't make her eyes move. They were glued to the couple. Finally, Celia waved and beamed once more at Grace, then walked out of the back door.

And then, the silence came.

Grace blinked.

August exhaled.

Grace wanted to cry. She would have thought that two adults such as themselves could engage in a civil conversation, but it seemed as if no words would ever emit from their mouths. Grace bit her tongue, thinking of something, anything to say. But, every time an idea popped into her head, she pictured the blonde laughing or smiling and she suddenly forgot it. Damn her life! First Jessie, now this!

"So…" Grace began at last, choosing the only topic that her mind seemed to focus on. "Celia seems nice."

August nodded. "Very," he said.

Grace cocked an eyebrow. He seemed to agree with her too quickly.

"I mean, of course she's nice," August began. "She's nice, great, wonderful. Why else would I be with her?"

Grace nodded. "Very bland adjectives for a man of your nature," she teased.

August grinned and Grace felt him relax a bit. "It's amazing to see you Grace."

Grace couldn't stop her grin. "Now that's more like the August I know," she replied.

August shook his head. "Look at you," he began. "I can't believe it's really you, Grace. I mean, you've changed so much…and yet so little. You're definitely not a girl anymore…"

Grace interrupted, "Was I ever?"

August laughed. "I guess not."

Grace smiled.

August grinned back and led Grace into the living room. Grace's eyes scanned the room eagerly. It was now wallpapered with an ugly floral print that made Grace scrunch her nose. The sofas were now lined with coral sofa covers, a shade of pink that Grace couldn't quite decide her opinion of. And, pictures now lined the walls, mantle, and newly placed shelves of Celia and August. Celia and August…Grace hated the way their names flowed together. It was almost too perfect.

Following August's lead, Grace sat down, a fair distance between the two. She looked around him, grinning inwardly as she noted his books still lined the many bookshelves.

"So…how long have you known Celia?" she asked, unable to push the woman from her thoughts.

August seemed uncomfortable. "Well, about four years. But we only started dating a year ago."

Grace nodded. "That's…nice."

August sighed. "Look Grace, it's not as if I was never going to move on with my life. I hadn't seen or heard from you in two years…you moved away! I had to move on. Besides…we never really had anything real going on with us…it was one kiss. You couldn't expect me to wait around…I had to move on with my life. You have to understand that!"

Grace paused. "I do," she said at last. "I completely understand you getting into another relationship…it's what I did."

It was then that August noticed the fleck of diamond cascading in the light, and his eyes suddenly sunk down to her left hand. "You're engaged?" he asked, his voice sounding suddenly weak and quiet.

Grace nodded. "He's an actor."

August nodded. "She's an artist."

Grace kept nodding until she felt her head would roll off. "I love him," she said. She didn't know why she said it. It wasn't as if she needed August's verification. She did love him. She knew that.

"I know," he said. "You wouldn't have given him the time of day if not."

Grace bit her lip. "But…but sometimes I think…"

"Shh…" August cut her off, not allowing himself to hear what she was about to say. "Sometimes you think too much Gracie."

Grace opened her mouth to protest, but found no words would form. She shut it dumbly, eyes wide open in surprise. He had called her "Gracie". She hated when her mom called her "Gracie". But she liked it when he said it. The way the name just rolled off of his tongue. "Gracie". She wished she could melt.

"So," August continued. "This actor…where…where did you meet him?"

"In New York," Grace started. "I work for the New Yorker as a book critic. And, my friend Sharon reviews all the plays. And, well, she dragged me to 'The Producers' one day, and Marcus, my fiancé, he was playing the lead character. Afterwards, she interviewed him, and we exchanged phone numbers. Now I'm back here planning my wedding. We're supposed to get married in June, hence needing a house for six months." She shrugged. "It's not much of a story."

August's eyes twinkled. "Everything can be an amazing story; you just have to know how to tell it with passion."

Grace was horrified at the prospect of August thinking Marcus didn't mean as much to her as she let on, but was interrupted by August's hearty laugh.

"Oh Grace, stop thinking so much," he said. "I was teasing."

Grace smiled a bit too hardly. It wasn't very funny to her.

"So, the New Yorker?" August questioned. "Big paper."

"Yeah, well, I'm only a critic," Grace said. "Nothing much…"

August shook his head. "You always were fascinated with big names. 'The New Yorker…and you only a book critic!"

Grace grew angry. "What's that supposed to mean?"

August shrugged. "I guess I just always thought you could do better than that. You should be writing your own work, not judging others'."

"Well, I did!" she insisted. "I wrote a book of short stories, prose, and poems."

"Really?" August asked. Grace felt hurt. She would have expected that he read it.

"Yes, I did," Grace continued. "And…and I plan to write loads more! And, the New Yorker job…well…it's only…"

August sighed. "Gracie, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to demean you. I think what you're doing is excellent, far better than the ordinary writing student. I just…I always wanted the world for you, and well…I just want you to get everything you deserve. I always judged you harder than anyone else…I guess that was because I knew you could handle it, and you deserved only the best. Forgive me?"

Grace pouted. "If I say yes, I let you win. If I say no, then I've insulted you."

August laughed. "Say yes Gracie?"

"Oh, all right," Grace grinned. "Forgiven. But next time you bring up my work ethic, I'm going to counter you with yours!"

"I look forward to it," August said.

The room became still again, and suddenly Grace realized just how close her body was to August's. She was closer than she deemed acceptable, but to pull away would mean risking embarrassment on both their ends. She decided not to move, but still remained uneasy.

"So, this house…I mean…why are you leaving?"

August's eyes grew dark and Grace instantly regretted the question. "Celia needs 'inspiration' for her next 'masterpiece'!" August remarked in a sarcastic tone Grace was not accustomed to hearing from him.

"Oh…and that's…bad?" Grace questioned warily.

"Well," August began. "I suppose it's a matter of opinion. I mean, she always goes out looking for inspiration, winds up making a cheap copy of someone else's work and makes no money. It's depressing really. She loves artwork and is so passionate about it, and I'm afraid to tell her she's no good with creating it. An art professor? She'd be great! She could even work in a museum. But every time I make one of these little suggestions, she laughs them off, saying she'd much rather paint. If only she could paint."

Grace smiled. "That's a tough situation. I don't know what I would do if I was you." August nodded and rolled his eyes in a true juvenile fashion. It made Grace giggle. "August…if you don't mind me asking…where did you meet Celia? I mean…she just doesn't seem like your…"

"Type?" August questioned. Graced nodded her head. "Well, I guess she isn't. Or, wasn't. Whichever. She took me completely by surprise. She was a part of this drama group I spoke at one day. She was in charge of set design. We just met and she invited me out for coffee. I kept declining, but eventually figured I might as well. And, well, that's that."

"Oh," Grace said. "Um…she doesn't…I mean, you never told her about…you know…umm…"

"No, Grace, she doesn't know about us," August said. "And I don't intend to tell her. What happened between us isn't something I'm proud of. I don't go around bragging about it. You were a student and I was a teacher. Perhaps had we been under different circumstances…maybe. But we weren't. I see no need for Celia to hear about that part of my past."

Grace was hurt by his words. "Shouldn't she know though? I know I'd want to. And, shouldn't a relationship be based on honesty and openness?"

August shook his head. "You're still so naïve Grace. I can't tell her. Do you know what she'd think of me? She'd never understand."

"Maybe she could if only…"

"Grace, you were seventeen!" August shouted, rising to his feet. "I was thirty one! She will never understand that Grace, never! No one will! No one would have accepted us, just as she will never accept me if I tell her that. She won't understand our relationship at all. She'll think I'm some creepy guy who goes for innocent young girls and… God, Grace, she won't know how different you were. She'd never see that it was impossible not to…"

Grace's eyes grew wide. "Not to what?"

August shook his head.

"You can at least finish your sentence!" she shouted. "After tearing me down and claiming how I was some stupid mistake, I think you can at least manage to finish your damn sentence!"

August remained silent.

"Oh, come on!" she yelled. "I don't deserve this! I deserve to hear the truth! What were you going to say? Huh? Come on, you can tell me! I'm the big mistake that you can go back to pretending never existed as soon as Celia comes…"

"It was impossible not to fall in love with you, okay?!" August remarked loudly, slightly agitated. "Are you happy?"

Grace couldn't move. She wanted to hurt him the way he was hurting her. She wanted to just slap him or punch him or something. But she couldn't move. She was stuck to the sickening coral couch. Yes, she had decided that coral was a disgusting color that reminded her of undercooked food. Eye tearing from the gruesome sofa, Grace stared up at August and asked plainly, "Do you still?"

August sighed. "Grace, I've moved on with my life and so have you. Anything I may have felt for you in the past…"

"Should stay there," Grace remarked. "I get it. Look, I just came here to discuss renting this place…but now…."

"No, Grace, you should rent it," August said, staring down at her. "It will be perfect. I'm leaving my books here, so you can use them to help you write if you'd like. And, you only need six months, and so do we. It works out great for both of us. Come on Grace, you're a rational person. Don't let me cloud your thinking."

"Not even a man with your gusto could ever hope to cloud my thinking," Grace snapped. How dare he think so highly of himself!

August looked amused. Grace wished she could stab him.

"All right," she agreed at last. "But I don't need a tour or anything." Grace rose to her feet. "When are you moving out?"

"Two days," August said. "We're leaving the place fully furnished for you, with the exception of the bed."

"Fine by me," Grace said. "I couldn't sleep in someone else's bed just thinking…" Grace smartly trailed off, eyes skimming the ground.

"So, does two 'o clock Friday sound good to you?" August asked. "We'll have keys made by then."

"Sounds great," Grace said, sounding anything but cheerful. She watched August walk into the kitchen, and she was relieved by the thought of being able to leave. She turned to exit the living room, but something oddly familiar caught her eyes. She spotted upon August's disheveled bookshelf a book placed in a plastic display case. Her heart leapt. It was her book. He proudly displayed her book!

She hurried into the kitchen eager to find out August's opinion of her book, but stopped herself from speaking. Didn't he tell her he'd never heard that she wrote a book? He had pretended not to know. Why would he do such a thing? He knew her writing meant more to her than the entire world. And yet, he showed no sympathy when stating that he had never come across her book. She would never understand such a complicated man.

"Grace?"

Grace snapped back into her body. "Yes?"

"Are you all right?" August's eyes roamed her face as if searching for the reason for her sudden disappearance into her own thoughts.

"Perfect." Grace grinned. She had adopted Celia's word. She made her way to the door and pulled it open.

"Good…"

"No!" Grace said, a little too quickly. She spun around and August eyed her curiously. Grace merely shrugged. "It's just this…thing I have. If no one says goodbye to me, then well, it's not really the end, is it? Because, you know, every ending has to have a proper goodbye."

August stared at her in pure amusement. "You're quite a character Grace Manning."

Grace smiled. "Friday," she nodded.

"Friday," August repeated.

xXx

"Last one Grace!" Rick called out, loading the last box into the back of Grace's jeep. She hadn't brought much with her, so she was grateful Celia was leaving the house furnished for her, even if the décor made her feel queasy.

"Thanks Rick," Grace said, watching as he checked all of her luggage, making sure it was securely inside the vehicle. Exhausted from packing, Grace stumbled back inside, collapsing onto one of her mother's warm, plush sofas. She was grateful that Zoe and Maddie were at school, and even gladder that Jessie was at a meeting with her boss Tad. She couldn't deal with siblings right now. Her mother was holding up quite well, and had spent most of the morning helping Grace pack, without muttering her opinion of Grace's life. Rick was the biggest help of all, being strangely supportive and sympathetic of her decision to move out.

She hadn't told her parents that she was moving into August's old house. She couldn't bring herself to even mention his name around her mom. She was sure if she did that all of Rick's support would quickly disappear.

"Hey Grace," Rick began, coming into the living room.

"Yeah?" Grace asked, looking up.

"Have you talked to Jake yet?"

Grace bit her lip. She knew she would have to talk to her dad at some point, but she really wasn't looking forward to that moment. He had been so angry when she left….

"Well, now's as good a time as ever," Rick continued. Grace looked confused. "He just pulled up to talk to Lily about Zoe."

Grace's jaw dropped and she struggled to stand upright. Pushing past Rick, she slowly made her way into the kitchen and through the back door. She saw a black Taurus parked along the curb and watched as the man she once called "dad" walked up the driveway. She wondered if he noticed her yet. She decided not to waste time.

"Dad!" she called.

Jake looked up from walking, wondering why Zoe was home from school so early. Maybe she was sick? He neared the house and began to notice that the girl in front of him was not in fact Zoe, but rather his oldest daughter, Grace. He squinted in the bright sunlight, praying it was really her. "Grace?" he questioned.

"Daddy," Grace called, suddenly feeling like a little girl. Jake hurried towards her and engulfed her in a warm embrace. Grace hugged him back, smiling, forgetting the power of her father's love.

They pulled apart, and Grace wiped a spare tear from her eye, still grinning. "Dad, I'm sorry…"

Jake shook his head. "Don't worry about it," he insisted. "That's in the past. We can't change it now can we?" Grace shook her head. "So what are you doing back Grace?"

Grace sighed. "Okay…Daddy, don't be mad but…"

"Uh oh," Jake groaned.

"Well, I've been in New York, as you know, and well, I met this guy…and well, we've been together for a year now, and well, we're getting married in six months…"

The expression on Jake's face caused Grace to cease from finishing her sentence. "Dad, breathe!"

Jake searched for words. "I'm…trying…to." His expression softened a bit. "Is he a good man?"

Grace nodded. "You'll love him," she insisted. "He's a performer on Broadway, but don't worry, he also teaches theater classes, so he has a profession to fall back on. He's actually going to be helping Jessie with her theater for awhile."

Jake nodded and smiled. "That's great Grace. This…it's just a lot to take in."

"I know," Grace nodded understandingly. "He should be here any minute if you want to meet him. He's flying in from Philadelphia."

Jake nodded. "Okay Grace, I'll wait for him to get here."

Grace smiled and hugged her dad again. "Thanks…you can go talk to mom now," she insisted.

Jake grinned and walked inside the house. Grace sat down upon the porch step, breathing in a sigh of relief. That was easier than she thought it would be. She was glad her dad was able to let go of his grudge against her. It showed how much he still loved her.

Grace heard a car stop suddenly, and looking up, she saw a taxi pull over in front of her house. A tall man with dark hair stepped out of the car, two suitcases in his hands. Grace grinned broadly and rushed over to him.

"Marcus!" she called, kissing him lightly on the lips. "How was your flight?"

"Long," he joked, kissing her forehead. "How have you been?"

"Well," Grace began, "I found a place for us to stay. Oh, and I have a slight confession to make. Remember my stepsister Jessie? Well, she works at a teenage theater house and I kind of…"

"Offered my assistance?" Marcus asked.

Grace laughed. "Yeah. I mean, I figured, you'd need something to keep you occupied and…"

Marcus smiled. "Stop worrying so much Grace, I'd love to do it."

"I figured as much," Grace nodded. "Okay, now here comes the tough part, meeting my family. My dad's even inside."

"I know," Marcus said.

"You know?" Grace asked, baffled. "How do you know?"

"Well, I didn't know he was inside," Marcus explained, "but I did know you two would patch things up."

"Oh," Grace said smiling. "Well then, come on."

The two walked arm and arm inside the house where they were greeted by Lily, Rick, and Jake. Grace was impressed with how charming Marcus was and was glad to see everyone got along very well. It was better than she could have ever expected it to be. But, one thirty rolled around, and Grace decided it was time that she and Marcus met August and Celia about the house. They walked outside and hopped into Grace's jeep, Jake, Rick, and Lily following behind them. They insisted to help her move her things in. Grace was very wary about the idea. What would they say when they saw August?

They traveled mostly in silence; it was a sound they were both accustomed to when with each other. They were both fairly quiet people and silence wasn't awkward for either of them. It gave them time to collect their own thoughts.

"Here it is," Grace said at last, pulling over to the side of the road. She saw Celia outside in a tight tank top and cut off shorts, placing small boxes into a U-Haul truck. He winced, waiting to see August.

Getting out of the car, Grace waved to Celia. She beamed and waved back once before returning to her boxes. Grace spun around to her dad's car and opened the door. "Why don't you guys wait out here until they've left, and then…"

"Oh nonsense Grace," Lily said, stepping out of the backseat of the car. "We can help them if they need it."

"Yeah, come on Grace," Marcus said, walking up the driveway. "I can't wait to see the place."

I can, Grace thought following bitterly behind.

"Grace, you guys can go on inside!" Celia called. "Aug…"

"OKAY!" Grace shouted, not wanting anyone, especially her father to hear the name 'August'. Grace rushed in front of everyone, darting to the back door. Not paying attention to the surprised looks on everyone's faces, Grace pushed herself inside, thirty seconds before everyone else, and locked the door.

"August!" she hissed, rushing into the living room. "August!"

"Grace?" his voice asked. "In the bedroom."

Grace momentarily forgot the crowd of people waiting outside for her. She felt like she was seventeen again, as she pushed open August's bedroom door.

"What's wrong?" August asked, noting the strange expression on her face.

"Nothing," Grace said sheepishly. "It's just…I was thinking…. Oh God, I was pathetic back then."

August laughed. "Not possible," he insisted. "What were you thinking about?"

Grace exhaled slowly. "The night we saw Rashomon," Grace replied. "Well, before we saw it anyway. I can't believe I actually asked to see where you slept! Didn't you want to kill me?"

August grinned. "Killing was definitely not on the list of things I wished I could do to you that night."

Grace bit her lip. "Oh," she said grinning, as they both broke into a fit of hysterics. "Oh God," Grace began. "August, my parents are here!"

August smiled. "You're not in high school anymore Grace. And, there's nothing going on between us. It'll be fine."

Grace sighed and shook her head. "You don't know my dad…I only today saw him again, for the first time in five years."

August's brow furrowed. "Not even when you visited from college?"

"Oh, I never mentioned…I, I never visited from college. I was, well, very angry still when we moved to Sydney, and once Columbia accepted me, I was gone. I refused to speak to my family for years." Her face fell. "I know it was stupid and stubborn of me, but they never got over the whole "thing" that happened with me and you, and I never forgave them for splitting us up. My visit home this month was my first time seeing them in five years. And, my dad took it the hardest…and seeing you…."

August nodded. "Grace, there's no way out of this one. He's going to have to see me. You're moving into my house."

Grace sighed and smiled. "I guess so. Uh oh…"

"What is it Grace?" August asked.

Grace's face broke into a guilty grin. "I locked them out of the house!" she announced.

August laughed heartily, and followed her into the kitchen, where they could hear someone knocking. "After you," he insisted.

Grace sighed. "Gee thanks," she teased, pulling open the door.

"Grace, why on earth…" Lily began. She stopped once Grace fully opened the door, spotting Grace's old English teacher, Mr. Dimitri next to her. He smiled graciously.

Grace scanned the porch. "Where are the others?"

"Helping Celia," Lily said coolly. "Grace…"

"What?" Grace asked. "I needed a house. My agent found this one. Ironic coincidence, yes. Big deal? No!"

Lily opened her mouth to protest, but seemed to find nothing to argue. "That's fine Grace, but Jake's not going to like this."

Grace shrugged. "He'll have to grow up and get over it. It's not like anything's going on between us," she said, looking to August. He nodded in agreement.

Lily nodded. "I'll keep him outside for as long as I can."

Grace mouthed "thank you" to her mother as she disappeared outside. The next second, Celia appeared at the door, followed by Marcus.

"Grace, your fiancée is so funny!" Celia exclaimed.

"Thanks," Grace said, not quite over the tension of her father being just outside. "Oh, um, August, this is Marcus, Marcus, August."

The two exchanged greetings and Grace was oddly pleased to see August caught off guard by the introduction of her fiancé.

"I'm just going to help Celia with the last boxes," Marcus explained, as he bent over to help Celia. The two disappeared moments later, and Grace caught August with an odd expression on his face.

"So, that's the actor?" August asked flatly.

"Yes, that's Marcus," Grace said proudly.

August raised his eyebrows and nodded. "He seems nice," he said, disappearing into the living room.

"He is nice," Grace insisted, her voice echoing through the house.

August returned a moment later. "Then, I take it you like nice."

Grace's mind was a mixture of confusion. "What? Of course I like nice people. Who wouldn't?" She grew angry. Was he insulting her judgment? "Besides," she said coyly. "Celia's extremely nice. I'd say even nicer than Marcus."

August paused, defeated. "Keys are on the table, if you need anything, our numbers are on a sheet on the fridge. Our address is also…"

"August, stop!" Grace insisted. "Don't be angry! I don't even know why you're angry! What happened?"

August sighed. "Feelings are fickle things Grace. They can change in an instant without anyone knowing as much. Ignore me and be happy."

"Ignore you? Ignore what?" Grace asked.

"Nothing," August smiled. "I should leave now."

Grace nodded, hugging her old friend. "No matter what happens August, it was really great seeing you."

August pulled away from her embrace, much to close to her.

"You shouldn't stand so close," Grace breathed.

"Why?" August asked, his voice barely over a whisper.

"Because suddenly I forget all of the reasons why I shouldn't be with you," Grace answered honestly.

August studied her face, his eyes penetrating hers.

"Don't," she said softly.

But it was too late. August had already leaned in to kiss Grace, and his lips softly collided with her own, leaving her in a state of disarray and bliss. She pulled away quickly.

"August," she said, not sure what she wanted to tell him. She noticed a small book under his arm. "My book," she decided.

August nodded. "I lied. I read it, every word of it. Even the dedication."

Grace sucked in a breath of air. "To the man with the most burdened heart," she remembered. August smiled, kissing her forehead. "August…" she began. "August, I'm engaged."

"Yes," August agreed. "Yes, you are." He turned and opened the door. He turned around one last time. "And Anna Alekseevna was married."

xXx

To be continued soon.