20. How I wish I could/surrender my soul/Shed the clothes that become my skin/See the liar that burns within/my needing/How I wish I'd chosen darkness from cold/How I wish I had screamed out loud/Instead I've found no meaning/I guess it's time I run/ far, far away/find comfort in pain/All pleasure's the same/it just keeps me from trouble/Hides my true shape/like Dorian Gray/I've heard what they say/but I'm not here for trouble/It's more than just words/it's just tears and rain.

She woke in the middle of the night, although she wasn't sure if she actually had slept. It felt like she hadn't. She had rolled onto her back, her hands clasped at her belly, her gaze firmly fixed on the ceiling. She was afraid to move; afraid if she tried he'd wake. And she wasn't ready for that confrontation yet. She glanced towards him, turning her head on its side. He was sprawled on his front, his face turned away from hers, his arms up on the pillow. His muscular back was exposed; the covers wrapped around his middle.

She felt an overwhelming sense of regret wash over her as she stared at him, and cursed the other feeling of lust that burned within her. Both emotions conflicted, warring each other, her heart, her head and her body all in a fierce battle for her senses. And in this battle she lost herself, lost what she felt, and she had to clench her eyes shut just to stop the tears from falling. She rolled her head back to its upright position, her eyes once again fixing on the ceiling.

Suddenly he stirred beside her, his leg brushing hers as he turned on his side. She froze; terrified by the thought he might wake up. She contemplated faking sleep; she even contemplated running like hell. In the end she did neither. He spread his left arm across her belly, effectively trapping her against the mattress. His embrace wasn't firm or in any way affectionate – it was like he had accidentally ended up hugging her. His arm lay limp across her and she could easily remove it from its position – her only fear being that she would disturb him. He mumbled something in his sleep, burying his head further down into the pillow.

If she hadn't been so scared that he'd awaken she'd have found his sleep talking amusing. She wasn't sure what she had just done with her best friend. She wasn't sure what would happen after this. She was afraid she'd lose him. She was afraid people would find out. She thought of Keith and Erin. She thought of Emily and Charlie. She thought of Rose. She thought of how they would react to this. How they would judge her. And she was ashamed. She was ashamed of how easily she let herself fall into Maurice Boscorelli's bed. She was just as stupid as all those other women he bragged about. And now he could add her onto his long list of conquests. She felt sick. Her stomach tied in knots and she repressed the urge to throw up.

She thought of how one moment of weakness can change everything (well, four moments to be precise). They would've gotten past the kiss, she wasn't sure if they would get past this. He took in a deep breath, the skin of his chest brushing against her bare arm. She clutched even tighter at the white sheet around her body as if doing that would somehow disguise her naked state that was hidden under the covers.

She once again turned her head to the side, only now to find him facing her, their noses just inches apart. She let herself give in to the sinking feeling in her heart and rested her forehead against his, closing her eyes as she let out a slow breath. It was the only tender moment the pair had shared all night.

Then, with all the courage she could muster, she detangled herself from his loose embrace, trailing the sheet with her as she slipped out of bed. He barely reacted, and instead was now snoring contentedly. She began looking for her clothes, finding them in trail leading from the bedroom back to the living room. She was unable to find a few items – namely her shirt and bra, but instead of continuing her search, pulled on her black jacket, making sure it buttoned all the way to her neck. Grabbing her bag off the floor, she quietly left, making her way downstairs and out into the crisp night air.

She stood there for several moments just trying to catch her breath, and to her own horror contemplated going back up to stay with him. She quickly shook herself out of this, flagging down a cab. She gave the driver her home address and it seemed like the longest time before he pulled up outside her apartment. She handed him a wad of cash, and broke free of the constraints of the hot car, bolting towards the doors of her apartment complex. She continued to run up to her home, not stopping for breath or anything else. But for some reason when she finally reached her door, she paused, unsure of how to continue. The key hovered over the lock, her hand shaking as she forced it in and opened the heavy door.

She slipped inside, pulling out the key as she locked up. She leaned back against the frame, closing her eyes as she let out a relieved sigh. She was surprised however when she opened them she was met with the image of Emily standing by the sofa, gazing at her mother curiously.

"What…what are you still doing up?" she choked out, standing straight. Emily frowned, watching as her mother made the trek to the kitchen, leaving her handbag on the counter top.

"Are you kidding me?" she asked, incredulous, "It's 4AM Mom. I was worried about you."

"I'm a grown woman Emily, I am capable of looking after myself," she replied, pulling out a loaf of bread from the bread bin.

"That doesn't stop me worrying about you, you never leave me alone at this time, and I thought somethin' had happened."

Faith stopped, gazing sadly at her daughter. "I'm sorry baby. I was workin' late. And by the time I noticed what time it was I thought if I called you, I'd wake you up."

Emily fell silent watching as her mother resumed whatever task she had undertaken before they began their conversation. She buttered two slices of bread, and took out some jelly from the fridge.

"You ok Mom?"

She looked at her daughter and forced a smile. "Of course. I'm just making your sandwiches for tomorrow at school."

"Mom…tomorrow's Saturday," Emily revealed, her brow furrowing. Faith's gaze fell to the half completed sandwich on the counter top.

"Oh…right. Right, of, of course…" she stuttered closing up the jelly and butter, "I think I'll just go to bed then. You should do the same sweetheart. I don't wanna be waking you up at twelve tomorrow."

"Ok…night Mom."

Faith made a swift exit, rushing to the sanctuary of her bedroom, closing the door behind her, and shutting the world and its problems out.