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The Second Chance

Kirsten pulled up outside Sandy's new office. She stared up at the building and shook her head in amusement at its shambled appearance. She still couldn't believe he had chosen a surf shack for his office, but it was so typically Sandy.

She made her way up to the door and unlocked it with the spare key Sandy had left hanging up at home. It was dark and musty inside. Even in the pitch black, Kirsten could tell that it needed sprucing up. She wandered over to his desk, switching on a lamp and smiling at the messy desk. She browsed an open book that lay on a chair, reminded of all the study dates they had shared at college. She remembered the hours she had spent testing Sandy on subjects she didn't understand and the way he had tried to explain it to her, rambling in legal jargon until she had shut him up with a kiss. She smiled at the memory.

From the back of the office, a noise disturbed her, followed by an unfamiliar voice.

"Sandy? Is that you?"

Kirsten looked towards the door that led to the back. A woman with long dark hair appeared. They stared at each other in an uncomfortable silence. It didn't take much to realise who the other was.

"Rebecca?"

Kirsten's voice conveyed her shock and Rebecca knew immediately that Sandy still hadn't told his wife about her reappearance. Rebecca paused, squirming slightly under Kirsten's stare. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped when Kirsten dropped the book that was in her hands and backed out of the office.

Kirsten's legs wobbled as she practically ran out of Sandy's office. She reached her car and paused, leaning against the door; her breathing frantic, her head spinning.

Rebecca was alive?

She didn't understand. Sandy had told her that Rebecca was dead. He had lied to her.

She looked back towards the shack. What should she do now? Her first instinct was to go home and find out what the hell Sandy had to say for himself; but she wasn't sure she had the strength to fight with him tonight. Instead, she wandered down to the beach and sat on the soft sand. She brought her knees up to her chin, hugging them against her body.

The moonlight caught her wedding rings and she held her hand out in front of her. Three bands that wrapped around her finger, telling the world that she was his. She felt a tear fall down her cheek and she wiped it away quickly, sighing heavily. She thought about the past couple of days.

How long had he known she was alive? Had he always known?

No. She had seen his grief at the thought that Rebecca was dead; it had been real. Hell, she'd been jealous of it.

He had gone to tell Max that his daughter was dead. Did he find out that night, when he was with the professor?He had stayed out all night and crept into the house the next morning. She had asked him how Max had taken the news.

"How do you think he took it?"

That had been Sandy's response. Did he lie to her then?

She had left him to get some sleep, but he had gone out. Did he spend the day with her? He had come home just before dinner and she remembered his relief at not spending the evening having dinner with her dad. He had told her he had work to do at the office.

"What if I told you he wants me to clear Rebecca's name?" he had asked her. It was only now that it made sense.

Kirsten shook her head in disbelief at her own stupidity. How could she have not known? He was asking for her approval…and she had given it. She had been understanding; she had sympathised.

Then he had been gone all night. She had watched her father have a heart attack and the one person she needed to hold on to at that moment hadn't been there. Had he been with her? He had eventually turned up at the hospital, smelling of alcohol. Had he been drinking with her? Laughing, joking, talking about the memories they shared? The thought made Kirsten feel sick.

He was cooking dinner at home right now. Her favourite meal to cheer her up. To soften the blow, perhaps? If he was going to tell her.

Kirsten felt like her head was going to explode. It was all too much. She dropped her head to her knees and sighed.

She felt a vibration against her leg as her cell phone began to ring. She pulled it out and saw that it read "home". She stared at it for a few moments before answering.

"Hello?"

She hoped that whoever was on the other end couldn't hear the shakiness of her voice.

"Hey, where are you?"

It was Sandy. She took a deep breath before speaking.

"Uh…stuck in traffic. I'm nearly home."

She could lie as well as he could.

"Ok, I'll see you soon."

His voice was light and cheery. Normal.

"Yeah, soon."

Sandy hung up the phone, oblivious to Kirsten's pain, and went back to making dinner. It had been a strange couple of days since Max had turned up. He had lost Rebecca only to find her again. How was he supposed to process that?

He knew he had to tell Kirsten about Rebecca's reappearance from the grave, but how? He wasn't sure he had the words.

"Hey honey, you remember my ex-girlfriend that I told you was dead? Well, guess what? Great news – she's not! She's camping out in my office and I'm going to help her prove her innocence."

He knew Kirsten was not going to take the news well. It had been hard enough when he had told her that Max wanted him to find Rebecca; he could only guess what her reaction would be when he told her Rebecca was alive and was going to be hanging around for a while. So he made excuses to himself, to Rebecca: he couldn't tell Kirsten, he didn't want to implicate her.

He had agreed to help Rebecca prove her innocence, feeling a sense of obligation to Max. Max had been one of his law professors at Berkeley; he had been the one who had given Sandy the chance to be the man he had become and helped him achieve his dreams. There was also the added complication that he had once been in love with Rebecca. Maybe there was a part of him that was still in love with her. He had denied it to Kirsten, of course, but when Rebecca had hugged him yesterday he had a familiar feeling rise up inside of him; one that he hadn't experienced for 22 years.

Seeing Rebecca had stirred up so many memories; so many forgotten feelings. When she had disappeared 22 years ago, there had been no goodbye, no closure. She had left him a note, trying to explain, but there had been so many unanswered questions. Since Rebecca's return, Sandy had been running back to her every chance he had, searching for the answers to those questions. They had spent the day catching up on each other's lives, and they had spent last getting drunk and reminiscing about the old days.

A wave of guilt washed over him. Last night, he had been with Rebecca while Kirsten was waiting at the hospital to find out if her father was going to survive his heart attack. When he had eventually turned up at the hospital, the drama was over and Kirsten had sent him away. And he had let her. He had gone running back to Rebecca again. He should have stayed. True, Kirsten had told him that he didn't need to be there, but he should have stayed. He should have sat in the hallway and waited in case she needed him.

He had to tell Kirsten soon. He couldn't keep lying to her and he couldn't risk her coming to his office and seeing Rebecca. He resolved to tell her in a couple of days, once her father was out of hospital.

Sandy shook his head. Another excuse to avoid the inevitable.

He heard the front door and looked up to see Kirsten come through to the kitchen. He pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind.

"Hi, everything ok?"

He kissed her cheek as he passed her, missing the curious look she gave him.

"Yeah."

She looked over to the table, where Seth and Ryan were talking in whispers, then looked towards Sandy. She walked over to his side and spoke quietly.

"What about you? How are you feeling now, about Rebecca?"

She watched his face, looking for any glimpse of a reaction.

"Being dead?" Kirsten added.

She saw him blink and his mouth twitch. It was the slightest reaction, but she saw it.

"I'm ok," he said. He lied.

'He's lying to me.'

"Dinner is almost served," Sandy said, changing the subject. "Are you ready?"

Kirsten looked at her husband. 'Oh yes. I'm ready.'