A/N: So, it took me about a hundred years to update and I'm really sorry. But...here's chapter 20. Yay for updates...

I stormed out of the club and out into the streets of New York City. I was to busy being angry at Joanne to let myself be sad. I didn't care where I was going as long as I wasn't there anymore. I let my anger control me. As long as I was angry, I wasn't crying.

I didn't know if Joanne and I were still together. I had a feeling that she and I weren't going to be discussing our relationship any time soon.

I wrapped my arms around my body and rubbed my arms, trying to keep warm. My jacket was still conveniently at the country club. I had left it there in my desperate attempt to get out.

Stopping to take in my surroundings I turned in a small circle. After I finally recognized where I was I decided to just walk around for a while, hoping that it would give me the chance to clear my head and calm my nerves.

I walked for hours, playing back my entire relationship with Joanne in my mind. I remembered when we first met, how I was immediately attracted to her.

She was always so cute, sitting there in her business suites, drinking her coffee and working on her cases.

I wondered when our relationship went so completely out of control. It felt like one minute we were the best of friends, completely wrapped up in each other, and the next we couldn't stand to look at each other.

We had been so good together when we first fell in love. Nothing mattered but us. It all felt so far away now.

Images of our past together flashed before my eyes, blinding me to the current city around me. My anger was slipping away slowly, only to be filled with a hollow numbness.

I stopped walking and looked around, taking a deep breath. Joanne's building loomed dangerously in front of me.

My heart began to flutter with an uneasy fear of not knowing. I shivered, suddenly remembering how cold it was outside and how cold I really was.

Swallowing the lump of fear in my throat I pulled open the glass doors and headed inside. I was nervous and excited and slightly nauseous and while I waited for the elevator I realized that I had been crying.

I dried my face and fixed my make-up as the elevator dinged and I stepped inside. The doors closed slowly and I couldn't help but feel like they were shutting out all of the oxygen in the elevator.

Closing my eyes I took a few slow, deep breaths, forcing myself to calm down. When I opened my eyes again the doors were opening slowly, setting me free.

But I didn't want freedom. I didn't want to see Joanne, because I was afraid that she was going to set me free too.

I forced myself out of the elevator and down the hall to Joanne's apartment slowly, my breathing shallow. I wasn't sure whether or not I should knock on the door. I obviously still had a key. But I didn't know if I was still welcome there.

After a few seconds of debating, I slid the key into the lock and opened the door hesitantly. I walked inside, my body welcoming the warmth of the apartment.

Joanne was nowhere to be seen. It felt as though I hadn't been there in years, when really it had only been hours. Everything felt sufficatingly comfortable. Being trapped felt safe. It scared me.

My heart started to race and I dropped onto the couch, curling up in a ball. I just wanted to go to bed and do this day over again. My eyes closed slowly as I snuggled deeper into the couch, my mind slipping into nothingness.

I didn't want to think about anything. I just wanted to talk to Joanne. I needed to talk to Joanne. I needed to know that she still loved me. I needed this relationship.

The apartment door opened slowly and Joanne walked in, my jacket in her hand. I sat up and watched her as she made her way back to the bedroom, completely ignoring me. I stood and followed her, already choking on my tears.

Joanne was standing in the middle of our bedroom...her bedroom...the bedroom. I wasn't sure where we stood anymore. Her back was to me as she pulled her jacket off and tossed it on the bed.

I stood in the bedroom doorway silently, just watching her. She was so tense, her fists clenching and unclenching as she walked off to the bathroom, brushing past me without a word.

I sighed deeply and walked into the room, sitting on the bed with my legs curled up underneath me. I slid my shoes off and dropped them on the floor on my side of the bed, silent.

I was afraid that if I spoke I would somehow manage to say the wrong thing just as she walked into the room and I would make her even more upset.

Twenty minutes later she walked back into the room, her hair damp from a shower, wearing her favorite pajama's and her eyes red and puffy. Obviously she had been crying.

She continued to ignore me, hanging her jacket in the closet.

"Jo..." I said softly, my voice cracking.

"Don't." Her voice was harsh as she cut me off. I closed my eyes and bit my lip.

"Don't cry." It was a demand.

"Every time we fight, you cry and I give in. Not this time, Maureen. I'm tired of giving in. We're done."

My heart collapsed on itself and sank to my feet, but I refused to cry. I forced myself to be angry at her, forced the hurt away and let the anger rush forward. I let myself think I hated her.

"You always give in to me? When have you ever given in to me?" My arms involuntarily crossed over my chest and I cocked an eyebrow at her.

The muscles along her jaw twitched as she fought to control her anger. That was my Joanne, ever the control freak.

"I am always the one to give in. You giggle and flirt with all of these other people, making me feel like shit. And then you come home and crawl into bed with me and promise that you'll never do it again and you cry when you think I'm mad at you. And damn it, you're just to cute to leave. So I give in and wrap you up in my arms and believe that you'll never flirt with anyone else and promise I'll never leave you. But it wasn't supposed to be like that today. Today was supposed to be for us. And you flirted like you didn't give a damn."

Her hands were on her hips and her eyes were wide, accusing me of being a horrible girlfriend.

"Now I know that I'm not the best girlfriend in the world, but I wasn't a slut either. So I flirted once or twice. It's not like I was sleeping with anyone else. You make it sound like I was fucking around on you. And you know I wouldn't do that."

I was doing everything in my power to keep myself from crying. Anger was always a much easier emotion to deal with.

"How the hell do I know if you would or wouldn't fuck around on me? Once a cheater, always a cheater."

I was beginning to get frustrated. I had never cheated on Joanne. She had to know that.

"I never fucking cheated on you Joanne. I have no fucking clue what you're talking about."

We both stayed silent for a second, just looking at each other before she spoke again.

"You fucked around on Mark." She said with a smug smile. I knew there was no denying it. She won. I was on my feet in a heartbeat.

"Fuck you, Joanne. That was different and you know it." I said as I stormed passed her on my way to the apartment door. She followed me.

"Of course. It's always different. God forbid Maureen Johnson do something wrong. She always has an excuse for what she does. Nothing is ever her fault."

Joanne's voice was eating at my brain, slowly driving me crazy. Everything she was saying was true, but I wasn't going to let her know that she was getting to me. I wouldn't let her see me break.

In an instant I became Maureen the Drama Queen, the mask slipping easily into place. I turned and met Joanne's angry eyes with icy indifference.

"You want me gone, then I'm gone. I'm sorry that I couldn't be perfect for you, because God knows you're perfect." It scared me how easily I could get angry at someone I loved so much.

"I'm not perfect, Maureen. I just don't sleep around." I couldn't believe her.

My breath caught in my throat for a brief second.

"Excuse me, but I never cheated on you, I never fucked around on you, and I never wanted to. I'm sorry if you don't believe me, but that's your own damn problem, not mine. I'll be back to get my stuff sometime when you're not here."

I pulled the door open and turned to walk out, my hair a flash of brown curls.

"Good, because I can't stand the sight of you." She said as I walked out.

"Go fuck yourself." I called over my shoulder.

I heard the door slam violently as I reached the elevator. I jumped, flinching at the sound. I hit the button on th elevator and waited, tapping my foot impatiently. I needed to get out of there. I couldn't breath. My throat began to tighten slowly, warning me that I was going to start crying soon.

The elevator dinged and I took a shaky breath, swallowing around the lump in my throat. I refused to break. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the cold metal of the elevator. My breathing slowed as I began to calm down.

Everything was going to be okay as long as I could get out of there. I was going to be fine. Hell, I was going to be amazing. I was Maureen Johnson. My mind repeated those words over and over again as I rode down the elevator.

I shivered when I reached the street. I was still without a jacket. Cursing my pride I crossed my arms over my chest and headed down the street.

Everything reminded me of Joanne. It felt like the city was one big reminder of my failed relationship with Joanne. Setting my jaw and refusing to cry I kept my eyes on the small space in front of me.

I refused to let myself hurt because of Joanne. I wanted to be angry at her. I wanted to hate her.

I wanted to hate her for leaving me. I wanted to hate her for never understanding and always accusing me of cheating. I wanted to hate her for not trusting me completely. I wanted to hate her because it was a hell of a lot easier that missing her the way I already was.

I wanted to hate her the way I had hated Mark.

But I couldn't. She was so different than Mark, so much more for me than Mark ever was.

She was my Joanne and I loved her and I needed her and it was killing me.

I looked up at the building in front of me and took a deep breath.

"MARK!" I yelled as loud as my voice would let me. I danced back and forth on my feet, trying to keep warm. A few seconds later the window opened and Mark walked out on the fire escape.

"Maureen?" He yelled down to me.

"Yes Mark. It's Maureen." I answered, arching an eyebrow at him, although I'm sure he couldn't see it from where he was.

"What are you doing down there?" He asked, confused. I wanted to smack myself in the forehead. He could be so dense sometimes.

"Freezing my ass off. Throw down the key. It's fucking cold out here." I yelled back, jumping up and down a bit.

"But what about..."

"Just throw down the damn key!" I demanded, flipping my hair back out of my face.

Mark disappeared and came back a few seconds later. He dropped the key, which landed smoothly in my hand.

"Come on up."