Note: Thank you again to my faithful readers who reviewed! I still have no idea where my story is going, but for the time being I'm enjoying the spontaneity of it all. Here is my Thanksgiving present to all of you...the next chapter! Happy Turkey Day:D

The faint strains of a tender melody drifted to Maureen's ears as she climbed the long staircase. It sounded so sweet that she actually stopped to listen for a moment. She closed her eyes and hummed along when she caught the notes.

"Could that be?" she thought.

She quickly walked up the remaining stairs and entered the loft. She found Roger sitting on the couch strumming away. He was singing in a voice Maureen had never heard before. It was quiet and gentle.

As he held the last note, Maureen felt something wet on her cheek. She realized that she was crying. She sniffled and wiped the tear away. Roger looked up and noticed her for the first time.

"I didn't hear you come in."

"That song was beautiful," she said quietly.

"Are you crying?" he asked incredulously.

"No," she answered a bit too defensively.

"I can't believe Maureen the Ice Queen is genuinely crying! How does it feel to experience real emotion?"

Roger was flattered that his song had touched her so deeply, but he wasn't about to tell her that. She had been cruel to his best friend in recent weeks, hell even months.

"Shut up, Roger!"

"Why should I? You don't deserve to be treated kindly. You don't give a shit about anyone except yourself."

"That's not true!"

"Oh really? Then what do you call your recent breakup with Mark?" he asked, pointing to the bedroom door.

Maureen folded her arms across her chest. "You don't understand."

"The hell I don't!" fumed Roger. "I know exactly what's going on. What I don't know is why you've become a self-centered bitch. Mark has done everything for you. He took you into our place when you had nowhere to go. He loved you, Maureen. He still does. How did you thank him? By cheating on him and ragging on his film hobby. How could you do that to him?"

Maureen bit her bottom lip to keep from crying.

"Jesus, Mo. Cut the dramatics."

Roger was in no mood for her acting. The tears before were real, but these looked suspect. Something inside Maureen snapped. Her green eyes turned cold and hard. Her full lips flattened into a thin, angry line.

"Go fuck yourself, Roger!" she screamed. "You don't know the first thing about me! You don't know what it's like to be hit on by your uncle from the time you're thirteen. You don't know what it's like to be raped by the same uncle two years later in your basement while your parents are upstairs asleep. You don't know what it's like to have to run away from home to hide your shame. Maybe I treated Mark like shit because he was too nice to me. Maybe that scared me. Maybe I hurt him before he could hurt me!"

She was shaking uncontrollably now. She had never told anyone about that, not even Mark. Roger was stunned.

"Is that true, Mo?"

Roger spun around. Mark was standing in the doorway of his room. Maureen hung her head. She couldn't look at him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He crossed the room and hugged her tightly. He kissed the top of her head.

Maureen broke down then. Her tears came in great, heaving sobs. "I'm sorry, Markie. I should have told you the truth. I was too embarrassed."

"It's ok. There is nothing to be ashamed of. None of that was your fault. Now that we have that out in the open maybe we can start over."

"I can't do that, Mark."

Mark's face fell. "Why not?"

"I met someone today. Her name is Joanne."