"Oh, could you make a decision already? What's gotten into you?" Marina sighed and rolled her eyes when Catherine disappeared in the dressing room for the third time. "What are you so insecure about all of a sudden?"

Inside the dressing room Catherine frowned, turning around to see her bare back in the low cut dress. "I'm not insecure, I just happen to feel that this dress is too revealing for my age," she said, her voice muffled as she pulled the piece of clothing over her head again. "Could you pass me the other one? The pink one?"

Obeying the request, Marina grinned and she sat down on the round bench near the dressing rooms. There was something different about Catherine. She had seen more of her over the past year and although she liked it, she never really had the feeling that she knew her. Although she was always kind, sincere and interested; what was behind that polite exterior was very often a big mystery. She remembered how they got acquainted when Tom was still alive, obliged to sit down and talk for hours while the two men played pool or cards. Even the trips they took together turned out to be fun, yet a real close friendship had never grown out of it. They were polite and friendly to each other, sure, but they never made a real true connection.

After the death of her husband Catherine withdrew back completely, not responding to her and William's invitations but deciding to stay home alone. It had worried William; often he had talked to her about Catherine after work when he had caught Catherine alone in her office, staring outside and her arms folded. She had seen it herself on the rare occasions when they met. Her face was always pale; the pink colour on her cheeks that she had always associated with her was gone. And as stubborn and independent as she was or maybe wanted to be; it hadn't surprised them that Catherine never seemed to ask for help. Not once had she leaned on someone. Poor woman.

Marina snapped her fingers. Suddenly she knew what had changed.

"Catherine, you want a cup of tea?" she called, smiling when the curtain of the dressing room was shoved aside and a satisfied grin appeared. Good, the pink dress would do.

"I swear to God, I'm not put on this earth to dress fancy," Catherine frowned and ran both hands through her hair before accepting the bag with her new dress from the clerk. "And I hate changing."

"What do you need a new dress for anyway?" Marina asked, buttoning her coat when they stepped outside.

"Because my sweet neighbours got this crazy plan to organize a get together for the entire neighbourhood. They think that when people get to know each other, the block will be a safer place to live… or something." Catherine smirked and shook her head when she recalled the way her neighbour had practically forced her to come.

"Oh, I've been there," Marina said, "I hate those evenings in which you have to remember everyone and you always end up embarrassed because you forgot someone's name. Or worse; where they live."

"Exactly!"

It was silent for a while, slowly they found their way to "Sherman's Tea", a nice little tea room where they served, according to Catherine, good strong English tea.

"So why do you have to dress up for this occasion?" Marina asked and to her great amusement Catherine's cheeks turned from pink to deep red. Her suspicions grew stronger.

"Oh, because I have nothing fancy to wear and it could come in handy for when I ever go out."

Seeing the amused look on Marina's face Catherine swallowed with difficulty. Oh, she hated this about herself. Why couldn't she just tell her that she was seeing someone? It was a completely natural thing to do; why did it feel like she was doing something wrong – and why was it that saying it out loud would make things real? She knew all too well is wasn't real, at least not yet. Oh, she didn't know and she didn't really want to think about it, it seemed like everything she did lately had to do with that certain tall dark man. There was an uncertain tingly feeling in the pit of her stomach that constantly reminded her of what was happening. She had promised herself not to get carried away, just as he never had promised her that something would happen. Things were progressing really slowly and it felt comfortable, easy and safe. And safe was good – she needed safe. Right?

"Catherine?"

She shook her head to clear her mind and smiled when they reached the door of the small place. "Yes, let's have a nice cup of tea."

She frowned. Safe her foot.

The movie theatre was small and dark; creating an intimate ambiance as they found their way down the aisle to their seats. Catherine smiled as her date moved in front of her, waiting patiently for her to stumble between coats and buckets of popcorn. To be honest, she wasn't that fond of going to the cinema, she much more preferred to sit down at home and loose herself in a good story – although she didn't do that much. But she had to admit that watching a movie on the big screen was pretty special as well, not to mention the company of a good friend who was pointing at three empty seats now. She smiled.

"Can I take your coat madam?" he asked, turning her around and shrugging her out of her long black overcoat. It was a new one he noticed.

"Thank you sir," she nodded and she sat down on the soft red chair, wiggling a little to find a comfortable position. She swallowed when he sat down as well – she was very aware of his leg brushing hers and it felt warm. Too warm.

"Why they don't have a cloakroom here is beyond me," he muttered while he tried to place their coats on the empty seat next to them. Thank God it wasn't a very busy night, there was no way they would be able to sit comfortably with their coats stuffed behind their backs.

"This isn't a fancy theatre Robert. This isn't a fancy town for that matter," she grinned and

opened the bottle of water she held in her hand when he leaned back in his chair – his shoulder leaning against hers. "Is it me or is it warm in here?"

"I would say so," he frowned, loosening his collar a little.

"Oh, I meant to ask you…" she said, "Did they invite you too to the block party?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, you were invited to have shallow conversations with people you don't care about too? Exciting isn't it?"

She laughed. "I'm glad you'll be there too, Ms. Brightman would never talk to us again if we didn't show."

"And that's a bad thing why?" he muttered and laughed along with her, although he meant every word that he said.

"So which movie are we watching again?" she asked, blinking when the lights got dimmed and the commercials appeared on the big screen.

"I have no idea."

"What?" She was so surprised that she forgot to whisper.

He grinned and lowered his voice. "I just asked the guy at the counter to sell me two tickets to a movie that I could bring a lady to." His eyes twinkled when he gave her a sideward glance, his eyes sliding down from her face to an area where she didn't want him. "You're a lady right?"

To her great shock she felt blood rushing to her cheeks under his exploring look and she forced herself to answer in a casual tone. "Last time I checked I was, yes."

"Good. So you must like this movie," he smiled and cast his eyes at the screen again, seeing but not paying attention to the trailers of movies he didn't want to see anyway. She took another sip from her water and he heard her swallow, smelling the sweet scent of her perfume as she brought her hand up to pull a hand through her hair. She looked pretty this evening, casual and yet sophisticated. During the few times they had spent together it seemed like she became more relaxed around him; the ease of the way they communicated seemed to return bit by bit although the heavy tension that was once there was gone. Maybe because they both had changed, he wasn't sure. The fact was that he felt at ease with her, that he felt comfortable enough to joke around a little – and that she felt comfortable enough to laugh about it. He couldn't wish for more at this point. Right?

Through the first half hour of the movie they sat there in silence, trying to focus on the story happening right in front of them rather than the story between them.

"You know what I never understand?" she whispered after a while, leaning a little against him so he could hear her without disturbing the entire row. Their shoulders touched even more. "That these women seem to sleep with a layer of make up on their faces, I never look that good in the morning!"

He smiled. "Oh, I don't believe that for a second. So you sleep aux naturel?"

Her face shot in his direction. "What?"

"I mean, with a clean face," he muttered, rolling his eyes for his own stupidity. Brilliant.

She hesitated a little but chose to ignore what he had said. "Yes, I mean – it's not normal to look that good in the morning. Well maybe it is at that age." She pointed at the young lady on screen who was brushing her teeth now.

"I know. But you have make up if you need a little help. Men have to settle with the same look every day."

She turned her head so she could look at him. "Lucky for you that you look good," she whispered and swallowed when he turned his head as well – his eyes meeting hers. Deep down her stomach she felt that nervous sensation again. Oh dear, this was getting serious but the hell with it, she couldn't find it in herself to break the spell and look away. He would have to do that this time – and he didn't.

"Thank you," he mouthed and a small smile tugged on his lips when she inhaled deeply. She couldn't grasp what was happening but her eyes stayed locked with his, to slide down his face to his mouth and back. She felt his dark gaze tingling in her veins and her breath came out higher; as if someone had placed a hand on her chest to slow her down.

"Catherine…" he hesitated a little but before he could finish her face changed, shifting from dreamy to annoyed – her hand reaching out to her pocket. Of course. "The hospital?" he whispered when she glanced at her phone and she nodded frustrated.

"I'm so sorry Robert, I'm on call and I…" she started but he shook his head and reached out to grab their coats.

"You don't have to leave too, stay and watch the movie!" she whispered, accepting her coat.

He smiled and shrugged before he followed her through the dark theatre on their way out. "Why start watching the movie now?"

-----

Hours later she sat down near her dressing table, sighing deeply before reaching out to her facial cleanser and smiled to herself as she cleaned her face. Yes she slept 'aux naturel', if there was anything she was dedicated to it was that. She yawned, it was getting late. It had been a while since she got paged away from a social date and it couldn't have come at a worse time; yet she always got this addictive shot of adrenaline through her veins when she was needed – thank goodness her presence made a difference again this evening.

Staring at her face in the mirror she frowned, studying the little wrinkles that appeared on her forehead and next to her eyes. Tom always loved her like this; clean, fresh and yes… natural. Oh, she shouldn't complain about her skin – she was blessed with better skin than a lot of the young girls she met at work. She never failed to smile when they asked her what her secret was – the truth was that she didn't have one. Drinking lots of mineral water and cleaning, that was about it. She reached out for the tube with her favourite cream, carefully rubbing the rich fluid on her elbows and hands – gently massaging her nails while she was at it.

Flapping her hands to let them dry she walked over to her bed; hitting the light switch with her elbow when she passed it. Oh she was tired and at the same time she wasn't in the mood to go to sleep just yet – she felt a little too fluttery for that. This evening could have gone into an entirely different direction than both of them had expected, that much she realized when she said goodbye to him before she got into her car. Her own car, she always drove herself when she was on call – old habit. Turning to her side she pulled her pillow closer and hugged it tightly, hiding her face in the soft cover when she tried to grasp what had happened there in the darkness of the theatre. For the first time she had felt that there was something very much alive – not just inside her but between them. She could only hope that he…

The sound of her phone shot through the night and made her sit right up, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest. Good grief, she was just at home – they wouldn't call her back would they? Quickly she picked it up.

"Hello?" she said, reaching out to find her light switch on her nightstand but her hand froze in mid air when she recognized the voice at the other end.

"We weren't done yet I believe." His voice sounded soft and amused and in her throat she felt a sharp tingle, she had to bite her lip to swallow back a too enthusiastic response.

"Oh is that a fact?" she replied instead, slipping under the covers with a small smile curving her lips. She didn't want the lights turned on for some strange reason, it was an intimate situation to hear him without seeing anything.

"Yes, I happen to believe that 45 minutes hardly qualifies as a date don't you?" he asked, she heard him grabbing the remote control and turning off the television. She realized that he was giving her his full attention and it warmed her heart. So much for not getting carried away.

"I'm sorry that I had to leave so suddenly Robert but I…" she started but stopped mid-sentence when he interrupted her.

"Don't apologize, you're a doctor and you're needed sometimes. The scar on my wrist is living proof of that," he chuckled and lifted his hand to look at it again. "Remember when you treated me in the cabin?"

"Oh, I would hardly call that a treatment," she said, closing her eyes with the memory. She wasn't sure if she was ready to go back to the place where it all had started so many months ago. They had carefully sidestepped the subject for some unknown reason but now he brought it up, she realized that it was because they had been afraid to share a memory out in the open. Well, that had been her fear really.

"You eh…ever been back?" he asked softly when it was quiet for a while. He knew that it was time to talk about what connected them; as if they had to overcome a few barriers from the past to accept what was happening in the present time.

"No," she said bluntly but after a little hesitation she decided to be honest. "But that's because I couldn't find my way back." She rubbed her forehead and gulped. God this was difficult. "Have you?"

"Yes. Once," he said, folding his arm over his stomach, "I don't think that Howard and Millie still live there though."

"Charlie and Robin left? I guess the cabin didn't bring them luck in their marriage huh?" she chuckled and shook her head. She loved their banter.

"I wonder if we ever would have met, you know if you hadn't offered me that ride," he suddenly said and she bit her lip when she realized where this was going. He was in a strange mood.

"Well as you said, reversed fate," she answered softly and he turned his head to reach out for the light switch. He needed darkness for this.

"We met too soon, didn't we?" he asked after a little hesitation and that question shot a shiver through her spine, this was getting more intimate than they had yet experienced. It was a strange feeling of relief that he was the one to cross the unspoken line, she might as well ask him what had been going through her mind ever since they met again.

"Robert, can I ask you something?" she started and closed her eyes when she heard his calm approving murmur. She had to ask, she just had to. "What impression do I give now?"

"What?" She rubbed her temple when clearly he didn't understand her.

"I mean as a woman, what impression do I give? You told me that I was unavailable, uninterested, don't look, don't try material. That men didn't notice me hiding in here."

"I said that?" he frowned and laughed softly when she scolded him by saying his name. "I'm messing with you, I know exactly what I said that night. I just needed some time to think about it." He grew silent again.

"Well?" She pressed the phone closer to her ear although she wasn't really sure that she wanted to hear his answer. Her heart started to pound in her chest again, but triggered by a different cause than earlier.

"Well… I think you're much more approachable now," he answered, rubbing his eyes because he couldn't find the right way to express himself. Suddenly he pictured her like he saw her last, a few hours before in the theatre. The way she was staring at him. He could picture her short hair, the graceful neck and the sparkling blue eyes that seemed to reflect her inner beauty. He saw her cheekbones, the little freckles and the loving smile. But mostly he recalled the intense and unsettling way he had reacted, it was exactly the reason he had called her three times this evening until she finally answered the phone. He inhaled deeply. "Now tell me something, are you still not interested in being noticed?"

Her mouth dropped. "Oh eh… I don't know, I mean I do know but I…" she muttered, her cheeks were burning now and her fingers trembled. Then she regained her composure again when she realized he was throwing back the question. She frowned. "Now wait a second… more approachable? That's it? You can't do better than that?"

He laughed his soft low laugh and it made her smile, lying back relaxed with her eyes closed - the ball was on his court again. His reply came fast. "No that's not just it in fact. I think you're very beautiful, elegant, classy, funny, feminine and gracious. Not to mention the fact that you're one of the sexiest women I've ever met," he blurted out and her eyes shot open, lifting herself up from the soft embrace of her bed. He what?

"Robert, I…" She couldn't speak and her heart pounded, all this time she had been waiting to hear him say this and now he had. This couldn't be real, this couldn't be happening. "Thank you," she muttered finally.

He smiled and for a split second his eyes shot towards a picture hanging on his wall, not able to see the image in the darkness. "So…"

"So…," she repeated, sitting up on her knees. "I just…" Goodness, she couldn't form a normal sentence.

"What? Tell me," he encouraged her, his heart had started to beat a little faster and his eyes were wide open, his voice changing from lazy to serious.

"I just…I can't…not now," she said, more shaken up as ever and she swallowed with difficulty. She had no idea what she wanted to say, not a clue as how to proceed; he had left her speechless again. "Can we meet tomorrow perhaps?" One more night, that was all she needed to come to terms – or so she hoped.

"Tomorrow is the block party, you want to skip it?" he asked, hoping that she would agree.

Her laugh sounded shaky and unreal. "You know we can't skip it, I guess we'll see each other there, right?" Her heart was calming down a little and she laid down again, hugging the phone against her ear with both hands.

"Right. Tomorrow it is. Goodnight Catherine, sweet dreams," he said softly, closing his eyes to the sound of her soft whisper. He had said too much, he knew it the second he opened his mouth. He could only hope that he didn't scare her away with his big mouth.

"Goodnight Robert, I…" she swallowed her sentence when she realized that he had broken the connection. Slowly she pressed the phone against her lips, closing her eyes in a desperate attempt to get some control over her reeling mind. God, she was too old for this.

-----

The wind blew her hair back as she made her way over to the Brightman household, two streets away from her home. How in the world they came up with this brilliant idea was beyond her; as if knowing each other would make a difference in their safety. These days not one neighbourhood was safe without the presence of a local police station and alarm systems. Oh, she had to admit that it could be fun to learn the names of the people she passed on her way to work; if only this wouldn't result in everybody stopping her when she tried to run through the grocery store to get it done as fast as possible.

It was getting dark early these days, the sun seemed to set an hour earlier each day and it made her realize once again that winter was knocking on her door, there was no way to escape the cold season ahead. It certainly had it's charm but right now she shivered in her new dress; her long brown coat would have been very appreciated at that point. The lights on the driveway of the Brightman residence welcomed her; sparkling in the night like diamonds – very cute if it weren't for the odd statue of Elvis in the middle.

"Dr. Howard, welcome!" She dragged her eyes away from the glittering statue and smiled politely when the door swung open and the beaming face of Marta Brightman appeared in the doorway, a name tag attached to her chest. Swell, this was going to be a long evening.

Entering the grand living room she accepted a glass of something that looked like champagne from the oldest daughter of the family. The dark headed girl was chewing gum as if her life depended on it and Catherine smiled again when Harold Brightman walked over to her.

"Dr. Howard, so nice of you to fit us in – I know how busy you must be in the hospital!" he exclaimed, with his hand under her elbow he guided her forward towards the table with name tags. She took a step aside when he offered to pin it on her.

"Thank you, I'll manage myself," she answered and quickly she moved over the nearest table, fiddling to pin the darn thing on her new dress without causing too much damage. She took a look around, nodded at a few familiar faces around her and folded her arms, casually holding on to her glass of champagne – after one sip she had decided to place it down where hopefully nobody would notice. It was getting busier by the second, actually it was starting to get a bit crowded where she was standing.

"Dr. Howard, how have you been?" she suddenly heard next to her and she smiled relieved when she recognized the kind face of Mr. Murray – a name tag with Harry on his chest. She had no idea that his name was Harry, this evening brought a few nice things after all.

"Hello! I'm fine, thank you for asking," she answered, nodding at him. She liked the man, he was always very fond of Tom and really went out of his way for him by ordering that special brand of coffee he always preferred. Suddenly she wondered if he still served it in his restaurant.

"How are things in the hospital? I hear you're giving a first aid course now, my daughter attended one!" She smiled politely when he explained how important it was to know CPR and how grateful he was that his daughter finally knew how to act in case of an emergency.

Halfway through the story of how he once had to help a woman who almost choked on a pancake she looked up, a familiar voice came floating towards the living room and her heart skipped a beat. A few seconds later he appeared in the doorway and she smiled brightly when his eyes went through the crowd, stopping and lighting up when he met her gaze. His lips curved upwards when she lifted her hand to wave at him, no longer hearing the voice of Harry Murray who was still talking. She was about to walk over to Robert when behind him the face of his daughter appeared and she froze; she hadn't expected her to be there. Lori looked good though, smiling broadly and making contact right away her into the circle of neighbours.

Amused by the way he immediately turned things to his advantage she observed him as he entered the party. He waved briefly at a few familiar faces and he walked over to her table right away, ignoring the bowl with name tags and declining the champagne with a simple smile. Robert would never do anything against his will – that much was pretty clear to her by now.

"Harry, Catherine – good evening," he said, his eyes never left hers and he smiled his small smile again. The one she felt in her knees. "Hello," she said simply.

"Mr. Woodward, how nice to see you!" Harry exclaimed, shaking the hand of the tall man enthusiastically. "How are you, it's been ages since I served you pancakes!"

"Yeah, have to watch my cholesterol a bit," he grinned back, accepting two glasses of wine from the tray that was held in front of them. "White for you?" he asked Catherine, shoving her glass of sour champagne aside with a determined look on his face. She smiled gratefully, trying to ignore the raised brows of Harry next to her and she was relieved when he found a new person to talk to.

"Alone at last,' he said, taking a sip of his wine. "You've been here long?"

"Oh it feels like hours," she replied, "but not that long, no."

She was glad to have him there, to have someone to talk to. If there was anything she had been avoiding it was social gatherings – not because she didn't like it but because of the heavy realization that she was alone. That was the reason she refused to go to William and Marina – somehow being surrounded by people who were used to having Tom there as well made her feel more alone than when she was at home by herself. And there was no way to explain that to people, she knew they meant well but she couldn't tell them that it only made her feel his loss more. Then to enter a party alone was like a snap back to reality - he wasn't with her anymore. She couldn't explain how hard it was to notice that people were avoiding to talk about him; as if she would break into tears every time she heard his name. She couldn't tell them that every time she came home to an empty and dark house her throat tightened, the silence drenching her like a cold shower. She never told anyone.

And now, after all this time she finally could let that go, finally her heart didn't feel as heavy as lead with laughing people around her. The realization almost made her feel guilty. They chatted a bit about casual and safe topics, leaning against the white round table and drinking wine. It was fun and relaxed but at one point she felt the burning looks of a few guests on her back; she heard the whispers when they passed them – she noticed the way Harry was looking at her.

As if Robert felt it too he walked off to get her a new glass of wine and she leaned over the table, her hands absentmindedly playing with a coaster.

"Hello Hershey Lady!" She turned around and smiled when she recognized Lori – suddenly she felt a bit self conscious, how long had she been talking to Robert? An hour? Two?

"Hello Lori, how nice to see you. How are you? How are your lovely children?" She was babbling and way too enthusiastic she realized.

"They're fine! Mary is a beautiful girl with a very strong mind of her own these days," Lori smiled, "and Michael is a very protective older brother."

"Oh that's nice. You eh…live with your father now?" Suddenly Catherine realized that she didn't know if Robert had told Lori about her, wasn't she crossing a line here?

"Yes I am, I'm looking for my own house though," Lori responded, not giving away if the question surprised her or not.

Catherine scratched behind her ear, not really knowing how to proceed. "That's got to be rough, well I'll ask around for you in the hospital – maybe someone there knows if a house is available."

"Thank you."

For a moment it was silent and Catherine's eyes drifted off in the direction of the bar. Of course, just when she needed him Robert was talking to one of the neighbours.

"He's doing better," Lori suddenly said and swallowed, following Catherine's gaze. "It's been a while since I've seen him this relaxed. He really worried my sister and myself there for quite some time…I'm glad he's found a little joy again."

Catherine felt the words in her stomach, Robert had found joy again. She turned to face Lori and smiled briefly when the young woman blinked a few times. "He's a good man," Lori said with a sudden hoarse voice, "I don't know where I would have been without him. He's strong, blunt, reliable and…" she paused and smiled, "…a pigheaded chauvinist. I hope you can handle him."

Words didn't seem to form in her mouth and she could only nod when Lori squeezed her arm and walked off; she would swear that she saw tears in her eyes. She took a deep breath and didn't manage to smile when Robert approached her again – her face was frozen in a strange tensed expression and he raised a brow.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his face full of concern.

She cleared her throat before she could answer him. "Yes I am, let's mingle."

-----

When the door closed behind him he frowned again, staring at her back as she moved in front of him, turning on the light with a quick movement of her hand. The rest of the evening it seemed like she had been avoiding him; talking with everyone but him. He had tried to get her alone a few times but every time he succeeded she had smiled gently at someone who passed and the moment was gone.

He wondered what could have happened in the five minutes he had spent near the bar, it was like something had changed in her and it worried him. She worried him.

He had insisted on taking her home and she had agreed, for a moment he had seen her smile again, if only for a few seconds and it had felt like a relief. They had rushed towards her home because of the wind that pushed them forward and now they standing there – in a strange tensed mood. She hadn't invited him in; he had just followed her.

"Catherine," he started as she moved into the living room, closing the drapes and turning up the heat. It was indeed chilly inside he realized. "Catherine, what's the matter?" he asked again, his words came out stronger now.

She sat down on the couch, patting on the place next to her. If she was going to be honest he needed to be close. "Come here please," she said, smiling at him briefly before he obeyed her request, loosening his jacket before he did.

When he sat down she smelled his cologne and it made her close her eyes for a split second, everything the man did had an effect on her and he didn't even know it. "We need to talk Robert," she said, shifting in her seat so he could face her.

He raised a brow at her serious tone and an uneasy sensation filled his stomach, waiting patiently for her to finish.

"I had a talk with your daughter earlier," she started, breathing deeply. "And she said something that made me think."

"Lori? What did she say?" he asked, folding his arms as she placed her hands on her lap, her knees pointed in his direction.

"She told me that you're a good man. A pigheaded chauvinistic at times but mostly a good man," she said, avoiding his inquiring look now.

"That's nothing new, so what?" he shrugged, not understanding what was going on.

"And she said that she hoped I would be able to handle you," she continued, finally finding enough courage to look right at him.

"Which is a bad thing because…" he said, hoping she would finish his sentence.

"Robert, she knows. She thinks you and I are an item, don't you see that?" she suddenly exclaimed, frustrated by the way he was sitting there, waiting for her to explain whatever the hell is was she was feeling.

"She thinks you and I are an item…" he repeated softly, leaning a little forward now. Understanding began to dawn. "And you have a problem with that?"

She got up, no longer able to stay seated next to the man who wasn't about to make this easier on her. "Yes I have a problem with that!" she said out loud, hating the fact that her voice came out a little shrill. She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to get calm and when she finally pulled herself together and managed to look at him she spoke again: "I have a problem with that because it's not true."

For a moment it was dead silent, her breath was high in her chest while she looked at him – her heart pounding and her hands trembling. The clock in the living room ticked away the awkward and nerve-breaking seconds in which they didn't speak; in which they just stared at each other. He hesitated for a split second before he got up; walking towards the shaking lady in the centre of the room.

"How can you say it's not true?" he asked when he stood in front of her, reaching out to touch her shoulders.

She shook her head, he still didn't understand it, did he? "Robert, I know that these things take time and I know you're going through a tough time… but when your daughter sees we're involved and the entire damned neighbourhood seems to know…"

"The entire neighbourhood?" he smiled and after a little pause she smiled as well, inhaling deeply to relax a little.

"It's just a metaphor…" she shrugged, feeling his hands warm on her shoulders. She searched for his eyes; looking at her full of concern. They were soft, warm and in the dusky light of her living room as dark as coffee. She smiled briefly, she had to explain to him what she meant before things got out of hand. "I guess what I'm trying to say, in a very immature way, that it's scaring me how good this feels. It's scaring me how happy I am when you're here and it's scary how relieved I was to have someone with me tonight…" Her voice broke and to her own shock and embarrassment tears were slowly forming in her eyes. "I can't tell you how bad I feel for not crying about my husband because there's a new man in my heart who makes me smile…" His hands came up her face but the words kept coming, every sentence came out weaker until it ended in a hoarse whisper. "Robert, when people see that something is going on…" She couldn't continue anymore and she stopped mid-sentence, a tear slowly rolling down her cheek until it reached his hand.

"… you want it to be real because otherwise you would betray your husband for nothing," he finished for her, stroking the soft skin of her cheeks with his fingers, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

"It's silly I know, but I…" she started, casting her teary eyes away from him. Suddenly she was very aware of the fact how close he was – too close for her to ignore any longer. She could feel him if she wanted to, all she had to do was to bury her face in his chest like she had dreamed of for so long. Oh, she was such an idiot. Why couldn't she just enjoy what was happening inside her? Why couldn't she just wait for something that was bound to happen – he had told her he was attracted to her, what more could she want?

"I asked her to forgive me the other day on the cemetery," he suddenly said in a low voice, releasing her face but not taking a step back. He searched for her eyes again and he smiled briefly when their eyes locked. "Because I realized I was falling in love with another woman."

"Did she forgive you?" she whispered, breathing out slowly through her mouth. She couldn't stop her knees from buckling underneath her, she couldn't stop her fingers from trembling but it was fine. Oh, she couldn't pretend anymore either; with his face so close to hers she couldn't deny it any longer. She was madly in love with him and she needed him. Again or still – that part she wasn't sure of.

"I think she did," he nodded, slowly reaching out to take her trembling hands in to brush his lips against them - as light as a feather. She leaned in, it was like she was drawn to him by an unknown force but she could only react to it, leaning her forehead against his. Suddenly her heart rate slowed down; the sharp nervous feeling in her lower stomach vanished and it was replaced by something else – a sensation of peace came over her like a warm summer rain. She saw him vaguely but he was there – alive and well and she blinked when he released her hands so they came to rest against his chest. Slowly he reached out to encircle her body and she gasped when she felt the heat of his body pressing against hers. His embrace felt warm and comforting and then every thought or doubt left her. She reacted instinctively, her eyes sliding from the darkness of his eyes to his strong chin and back – to come to a halt when she reached his lips. He came closer, close enough so his breath warmed her cheeks and she met him halfway, closing her eyes at the contact. He was soft and demanding at the same time, his lips claiming hers without hesitation and it overwhelmed her; for a moment she froze under his touch but she melted right away when his hands stroke her back gently. He was warm and comforting, thrilling and exciting, tempting and arousing all at once – touching her inner soul with the warmth of his being. She could only react to him like she had dreamed of, leaning into him with an enthusiasm she couldn't recall being part of her. In a strange way it felt like he was digging it up, each and every kiss removing more sand from her covered up want and need – he exposed it all by pressing featherlight kisses on her closed lips and pulling her closer when she asked for more.

Her reaction surprised him a little but he enjoyed it, opening his eyes when she pulled away from him – smiling at him briefly with eyes that seemed to sparkle like diamonds in the late evening light. His head was spinning when he felt her hands move up his face – stroking over his lips with her finger and he kissed her fingertip gently before her arms pulled him closer again. He could only oblige, letting her take control over their embrace and suddenly, without any warning their kiss deepened, meeting each other in the most intimate way. She tasted oh so different but oh so good, he couldn't control his arms any longer and cupped her head with one hand, feeling her soft moan of approval inside him. He smiled against her mouth.

Oh yes, things were about to become real.