He was numb. It felt as though his heart had stopped beating, his lungs ceased to draw in breath and his entire body had suddenly shut down.... All this in just a few seconds.

He wanted to stop the clock. To press the rewind button and absorb this information another way. He wanted to go back a few minutes, brace himself for the blow, and give Peter a different response. Instead of just looking at him with hollow eyes.

Why hadn't Juliet said something? - Was the first actual thought that entered his head. And with that thought came its repercussions....

What about Juliet?

What about him and Juliet?

Did this mean 'they' were over... finished, forgotten... just as they'd come to terms with their feelings; it was all going to disappear. Just. Like. That.

"...That's pretty much the same response I got from Jules..." Peter breathed, taking a swig from his beer.

Mark blinked. Then gulped back his thoughts of Juliet. Peter saying her name brought Mark back to reality... back to secrecy. He couldn't ask about her as though he loved her. Which he did. He couldn't beg Peter to not take the job.

"Whoa..." was the most Mark could say.

Peter nodded. "Yeah..." he murmured, drinking the last of his beer.

"I mean, whoa," Mark breathed again. And, Peter nodded, again.

There was a silence between then. But around them, chatter, laughter and noise filled the pub. Men played darts in the corner. A few girls cackled in a booth. Some guys were busying themselves around the billiard table, deciding who would be on which team. Each stool around the bar was occupied; the bartender had his hands full. But, Mark and Peter sat in silence.

Mark shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to make his excuses with Peter, and run off to rendezvous with Juliet. ....But what would he say to her? Would he yell at her? - For not telling him sooner.

Probably not. He couldn't picture himself getting mad at her.

After all, it was Saturday. Peter had only told her last night.... while Mark was talking business until 1:30 in the morning.

She probably couldn't get away from the house to meet him, break the news gently...cry in his arms.... Confide in him about what to do.

But still, what would he say to her when they inevitably met up? ...Would he beg her to stay, to leave Peter to go to Australia by himself? That was what he wanted to do... but he knew he couldn't.

This would have to be her decision. She'd have to make it to suit herself, not stay because he couldn't live without out her. Because he was selfish, and a blubbering mess.

"I don't know what I'm going to do...." Peter had sighed, waving to the bartender to bring another round.

Mark turned to him, blinking again, urging himself to speak. "What has Juliet said...?" he tried to sound un-affected, distant on the subject of Jules. As though asking about her was the polite thing to do.

Peter shrugged. "She hasn't decided yet." He said, simply. "...I was in the doghouse last night...we didn't talk...we haven't talked...I told her..." he left the sentence hanging.

"What?" Mark urged, trying to settle his voice.

Peter sighed again, and took a long gulp from his new beer before continuing. "...I told her I'd be going,..." pausing, "regardless" he added, heavily.

Mark restrained from sighing with relief. Instead he replied "Jesus!", his tone riddled with concern and sympathy.

Peter turned to him, his eyes thankful to his friend for being so worried for him. "...I told her, she could sell the business.... or lease it, because we wont need the money.... I told her we'd make new friends...and make plenty of visits home...."

Mark nodded, all the while hoping Juliet had been un-nerved by Peter's possibilities.

Peter shook his head, and looked about to cry- "...Somehow I think her answer will be no..."

Mark breathed heavily, to silence himself, he took a swig from his bottle.

"What will I do if she doesn't come with me?"

Mark said nothing. He didn't need to; Peter was more talking to himself.

"We'll have to get divorced.... we cant very well have a long-distance marriage...."

Mark still said nothing.

"We've been together for 2 years.... married for 4 months..." Peter sighed croakily, "...Why does this hurdle have to come up now?!"

Mark shook his head.

"Christ, Mark..." he turned to him now, eyes watering- the emotion either brought on by the beer, or by his genuine fear of losing his wife. "...What the hell would I do without Jules?"

What would I do without Jules?! Mark felt like yelling back at him. But of course, he didn't. Instead, he gave Peter's back a brisk, hard pat.

"What time is it?" Peter eventually asked, sucking in the tears.

Mark glanced down at his watch. "12:45"

Peter nodded. "When I left she was still in the bedroom..." he murmured, "...she might have emerged.... I better go see her..." he stood, "talk to her" he added, looking at Mark with heavy eyes.

"Right" Mark breathed, watching as Peter shrugged his coat on.

"Thanks for coming down, mate" he said, "and for....y'know, talking..." he added.

Mark nodded.

"I'll drop by later..." Peter said, and then headed out the door.

Mark stared at his green bottle of beer. He felt his eyes begin to sting and prick with fresh tears. He gulped them back, sculling the last of his beer, and then waving hastily at the bartender for another.

If he couldn't confront Juliet with his feelings, then he'd drink them away instead.

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Peter entered the house quietly, half expecting to see Juliet's bags packed and waiting by the door.

He was relieved to see everything as he had left it that morning.

He took his coat off, put his keys down, and ventured into the kitchen. She wasn't there. So, he made his way upstairs, and braced himself before knocking on the door.

There was no reply, so he gently pushed it open, and poked his head in.

Juliet was sitting up in bed, her knees up to her chin, her arms hugging them, looking straight at him.

"Can I come in?" he asked, lightly.

She shrugged, and he stepped inside, closing the door, and standing awkwardly before her.

Her eyes were red and swollen. Her hair mattered, one side of it sticking partly to her face. She wore a large, grey woollen jumper that emphasized her slim figure, exenterating her wide, dark eyes and high cheeks.

"You been drinking?" she finally asked, not sounding upset or angry.

He nodded, bashfully, and she bit her bottom lip.

The room smelt of incense...rosemary, or maybe jasmine. Jules liked the smell to waft through the house in winter.

"....Jules...." Peter breathed her name, his chest lunging with the effort.

"I'm going" came the reply before he could get another word out.

His mouth hung open, as he was about to plead his case. But those simple words had him stop short. He looked at her in amazement.

"Wh....what?" he stammered.

She shifted slightly, allowing her arms to drop from hugging her knees; she stared at him, not dropping her gaze.

"I am going with you," she murmured, not sounding altogether pleased with the idea, "...you are my husband, and I am going with you" she finished.

He didn't want to, because he knew the decision was against her wishes and wants, but he smiled anyway. "You are?"

She nodded.

"You and I are going to Australia...." He said again, and she nodded.

"Jules, this is...I mean...I know you don't want to, but you'll see..."

He silenced himself when he saw fresh tears forming in her eyes; she turned away from him, swiping at her wet cheeks.

"Jules...." He whispered, walking towards her.

She turned to him, as he looked down at her, afraid to touch her.

She opened her arms up to him, and he sat down infront of her, gathering her up as she pressed her body against his, and softly started to cry.

He stroked her hair and tried comforting her, "You'll see, Jules...it will be great...you'll love it,..." he whispered, gently rocking her in his arms.

She continued to cry, ever so softly. She still hadn't told Mark.

She didn't want to tell him at all.... Because, when she did.... it would make the whole thing all the more real.

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She slowly opened her heavy eyes, to find Peter lying beside her, staring at her. Love in his soft eyes.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

She shook her head slightly, and he reached out and brushed her cheek lightly. "You'll see..." he said again.

"What time is it?" she croaked in a small voice.

"6:30...we've been up here all day..." he replied.

She stretched her legs a little, and rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. Everything came back to her, hitting her over the head, hard. She suddenly felt like crying again,

"We have to get up" Peter whispered, "I told Mark we'd go over to his place....he was worried about us"

She quickly turned to her husband, eyes wide. "Mark knows?!" she blurted.

He reached out, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, "Yes...I went down to the pub this afternoon and we talked for a while...." He sighed, "I was really worried there for a while, Jules" he confided.

She tried to calm her raging thoughts. What he must think. How he must feel..... how he's going to feel when he finds out they are leaving...

Peter stirred, throwing the covers off himself and sitting up, "c'mon, we have to go tell him the news..." he murmured, looking over his shoulder at her, with a small smile, "the good news" he added.

She tried forcing a smile, but it wouldn't come. She just felt like crying and crying until there was nothing left inside herself to hurt anymore.

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They'd wandered down to the same pub Mark and Peter had been in that afternoon. They ordered dinner, and now sat in an uncomfortable silence in a booth.

"Right...so...Jesus!" Mark breathed, looking at Peter, trying to avoid looking at Juliet.

"Yeah" Peter smiled, reaching under the table and squeezing Juliet's hand.

"So....err...umm...." Mark struggled, and Juliet felt herself choking up again. She looked down, trying to avoid looking into his clearly pained eyes.

"My best mate is moving....umm...well.... I don't know how to process this..." Mark murmured.

Peter nodded, "I'll have to be leaving sometime next month...just for a fortnight or so....to go house hunting, and to check up on the building and everything...."

"Then what?" Mark asked.

Peter squeezed Juliet's hand again, she wanted to tear it away form him. "...Well then, while I'm gone Juliet will have started packing everything up.... And when I come back, we should have a house secured down there....and then, as soon as possible, we should be off"

"As soon as possible?" Mark repeated, feeling weary.

Peter nodded. "The office has to get up and running soon, so money is coming in for us...you know...."

"But, there's my business to be settled.... that may take a while..." Juliet suddenly spoke up, sounding hopeful by the prospect of staying in England just that little bit longer.

Peter nodded, "I'll get on that right away, have a plan for the business sorted before I leave" he answered her.

Juliet's heart shrank. And now, she pulled her hand away from Peter's gasp, he didn't seem to notice.

Peter slid out from the booth, "got to go to the toilet, back in a second," he murmured, striding off.

Juliet's eyes instantly wandered across the table to Mark, who was avoiding her by looking out at the crowd.

She whispered, even though the toilets were at the other end of the pub, and Mark would have a clear view of Peter as he walked back to the booth. "I tried calling you last night...." She said, her voice uneven.

"Yeah, well, I was out late...." He murmured, still not looking at her.

She bit her tongue when she heard the snipe in his tone.

"Mark, Mark I don't know what to say..." she started, but stopped when she saw the clear look of disinterest in his face.

He'd thought he wouldn't get mad at her. But, that was when her decision about leaving was unclear. Mark had been so hopeful, even Peter was sure she wouldn't go.

And now, here she was, feebly trying to apologize for breaking his heart. He didn't want any of it.

"Mark...please...say something, anything...." She pleaded. "I don't want to go..." she whispered, thinking he couldn't hear.

"Well you are!" he suddenly snapped.

She looked to him, and found he was staring right at her. Into her eyes. She felt so vulnerable.

"What was I supposed to do....he is my husband!...." She started.

He shrugged, "that's right, Jules....he's you're husband....and I'm just the poor sap who loves you to death, but cant have you..." he knew he sounded childish, he wasn't seeing reason, he didn't want to.

Her eyes began to well, "I love you too...." She whispered. The words pained him. "...But I have to go...." She ended.

"I know you do." He replied, avoiding her eyes again, "and I have to let you"

She opened her mouth, about to say more, when Mark's eyes told her to be quiet. Peter reappeared, sliding in beside Juliet.

"Christ Jules, we have a lot of work ahead of us,..." he murmured, and then he started spouting off a long list of things that had to be done before they left, what she had to do while he was gone for two weeks and so on.

She blocked it all out, as she sat, trying to stop herself from crying again. And trying to avoid looking at Mark as he stopped himself from doing the same thing.