It was nearly ten o' clock in the evening and Susan was crashed out in front of the television. She hadn't slept well the night before and after working a twelve-hour shift all she wanted to do was sleep. However her brain had other plans, as a whirlwind of thoughts circled her mind. She had managed to avoid seeing Mark all day, tracking Ella's progress via Kerry or Carter, but he hadn't been far from her thoughts as she played over the previous night's events over and over again. She remembered the way his touch had made her skin tingle, and they way his lips were soft against her own.
'Stop it,' she told herself.
She wondered how Mark was feeling today. Guilty? Horrified? She felt like she had received so many mixed signals from him since her return. The moment they had shared in Phoenix had repeated in her mind, developing into more in her dreams. Everything felt so complicated – Elizabeth, Ella. Susan cursed herself. Ella was lying in hospital, fighting for her life, with Elizabeth watching her every second of the day; and Susan was sat at home selfishly contemplating her feelings for Mark, wishing she could take him away from them.
A knock on the door interrupted her. She got up and slowly walked to the door, wary that she should receive visitors so late at night. Looking through the spy hole, her stomach turned as she saw Mark waiting expectantly on the other side. She contemplated ignoring him, but the sound of the television would have exposed her lie. She opened the door.
"Hey," she said. It was the first and only word that came into her head.
"Hi, um, Rachel says she left her maths book here last night," Mark said, avoiding her eye. It didn't matter, she would have avoided his.
"Oh, uh, I haven't seen it but it…it could be here somewhere," Susan stumbled over her sentence. She sighed – this was not going well. "Come in."
Mark stepped into Susan's apartment cautiously, all too aware of his actions the night before. He hadn't been sure that Susan would be speaking to him, let alone invite him back into her apartment. Truthfully, Mark had been glad of the excuse to come and see Susan, giving him the chance try and make things right.
'If that's possible,' he thought.
He stood watching Susan as she hunted around her apartment for Rachel's maths book. He hadn't made a mistake last night when he had kissed her. He may have been drunk, but he knew what he was doing; he knew what he wanted. He had loved Susan five years ago and he loved her now, it should have been so simple. Why did things always have to be so complicated?
"I've found it," Susan's voice interrupted him. She walked over to where Mark stood and held out the book. He took it, nodding gratefully.
"Thank you," Mark said, not trusting himself to say anything more. He turned and walked towards the door, keeping his back to Susan, not wanting to see her face because of the feelings she managed to stir inside of him.
Mark paused when he reached the floor, dropping his head to look at his shoes. He was still facing the door.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I screwed up."
Susan shut her eyes tightly. She didn't want him to be sorry, she didn't want him to be regretful.
"It's ok," she said, willing her voice not to crack.
"Are things ever going to be the same between us?" Mark asked.
Susan knew she should lie and tell him everything would be fine, but she couldn't. "I don't know."
"Because I kissed you?" Mark knew it was his fault, that he had over-stepped the boundary.
'Don't do it,' Susan screamed silently to herself. Her head was telling her not to speak, but the part of her that loved him was overwhelming.
"Because I wanted you to," she finally answered, letting the tears fall down her face.
Mark stood still. He hadn't expected that. He turned to look at her. She was stood in the middle of the apartment, her arms crossed defensively – like she was trying to protect herself. They made eye contact for the first time and the feelings they were both trying to suppress took over them. Mark walked over to where she stood, cupping her face with his hands. Susan pulled back slightly, a voice in her head still telling her this was wrong, but he fought against her resistance, bringing his head down to hers, kissing her.
It felt right.
The kiss became harder and more passionate. Their hands wandered over each other, on top of their clothes at first and gradually becoming more curious. They struggled at pulling off their clothes, more interested in tasting each other.
Susan could feel her heart beating fast, pounding against her chest. His taste, his touch almost felt too much. She felt loved and wanted, and best of all it was Mark who was making her feel like this.
Mark had never experienced anything like this. Not just the overpowering passion between them, but the love, made everything she did feel like magic. Her skin was so soft, he loved the feel of it under his fingers.
They fell against a chair, then the table, then the cabinet. Susan's hip hit the corner of the cabinet, and she parted lips with Mark to cry out in pain.
"Ow!"
They stood, their excited bodies pressed against one another and their eyes locked, trying to catch their breath. No words needed to be spoken as Susan guided him across the room to her bedroom. Mark followed, his eyes watching her all the time. Susan closed the door behind them for privacy; silly, really, since she lived alone. They fell onto the bed, their clothes falling off easily. Mark covered her face and her body with kisses. Susan closed her eyes, allowing herself to get lost in his touch. He brought himself back up to face her.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you," she said back.
They made love until the early hours of the morning, neither of them wanting it to end. They finally relented, exhausted, and spooned together under the bed sheets. No words were spoken. They didn't need to be. It had all been said, it had all been demonstrated. Wrapped up together, they fell peacefully asleep.