Disclaimer: As much as I would love to say otherwise, I have no affliction with the writers, the characters, or anything similarly relating to Love Actually.

Sarah finished her last assignment and packed up her briefcase, scattered with old pictures of Karl, most of which she took herself. Glancing beside her, she saw an empty desk except for a few old photographs, an empty coffee mug, an a box at the bottom of the computer with the words AIM labeling it. It was a conversation between Harry and his brother-in-law, Daniel. It almost hurt to read. The conversation involved a few breaks, a poem by John Keats, and an emotional outpouring of words. Sarah knew Harry was a nice man, but somehow hidden. He hated talking about his personal life.

On her way out the door Sarah purchased some potato chips out of the vending machine and poured herself some tea. Karl approached here while passing by, baring a shy smile.

"Hello Sarah."

"Karl." Sarah bit her nails out of anxiousness. Ever since Sarah decided to devote her life to her troublesome brother her relationship with Karl had been rocky. Her brother was mentally sick, and at the moment Sarah felt mentally drained.

"How's your brother?"

"He's better, thanks."

"Well, you take good care of him, all right?"

"Yes."

Karl waved goodbye before sheepishly slipping a pink rose into Sarah's slim hand. He really, truly loved her, but he didn't want to stand in the way of Sarah and her brother, who was tucked inside a mental institution. A tear came to her eye as she walked out the door and into the rain. She impulsively held out her arms and let the water trickle down her, washing away these feelings of guilt and helplessness, if only for a moment.

Harry woke up to find himself in his new apartment, cold and barren, not with the warmth his hose contained. He glanced at a photograph of his wife, Karen. Karen was a beautiful person with a huge heart and he threw all that way because of some overly seductive secretary.

"God, I'm such a bloody idiot," he said to himself out loud. Mia still called him every day. Mia was very pretty but also very manipulative, and knew perfectly well how to tear a family apart. His mobile was ringing, but he chose not to and instead listened to his new ringtone, echoing A Case of You by Joni Mitchen. Karen once told him that Joni Mitchell taught her how to feel. Maybe if he started listening to her, he could do the same.

"Boss, this is Mia. You haven't been answering my calls. I just thought wwe could go to the movies. I love you, boss."

Harry couldn't take it any more. He picked up the phone.

"Damn it, Mia, don't you get it? You destroyed everything! Do you honestly expect me to love you?"

Harry wasn't usually the kind to yell, so he surprised even himself. Usually if Harry were to be angry he would keep quiet. But this was breaking point.

"Boss, I had no idea. I'm sorry."

Oh great, now she's going to make him feel guilty. Perfect. He wondered to the kitchen and poured himself a tall glass of scotch, hoping he could wash all this regret down in alchohol.

"No, I'm sorry. Look, I'll talk to you later."