Chapter Twenty Five

She thought it would be the bleakest week of her life, but so far, it wasn't. Yes, she was sleep-deprived and anxious out of her mind about the test results, but work was the best distraction she could possibly hope for, and as she had come to learn, confiding in people wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Having Tammy and Arianna around, initially for Libby's sake, turned out to be the best thing they could do. She couldn't remember the last time she'd spent an evening this pleasant.

"I had the best time yesterday," Arianna told her the next morning, during an impromptu meeting at her office over coffee and blueberry muffins. "Thanks for having me."

"Are you kidding? Thanks for coming. And also, Libby wants a tattoo now, so thanks for that too," she mock-glared at Arianna, who burst out laughing.

"Well, I'm the best assistant you'll find in town, so you can't fire me."

"The best assistant who brings me baked goods," she sighed as another piece of muffin melted on her tongue.

"Did you really leave Mark for another woman?"

She nearly chocked on another sip of coffee. "Who told you that?"

"Tammy, on our way home," replied Arianna, unabashed. For a moment she feared of what they had unleased by introducing these two. "Said it messed him up for a really long time."

Hearing from a third party the damage her mindless desertion had left in its wake made her heart twitch, but she wasn't going to shy away from it. It was part of their history, part of who they were and the adults they'd become. Nonetheless she narrowed her eyes at Arianna maniacally in an attempt to assert some sort of authority, though her employee for all intents and purposes didn't seem intimidated in the slightest.

"So did you?" she persisted.

"Yes. A long time ago. And if you ever so much as whisper a word about this in his presence I will fire you."

"Pretty sure that's illegal. Or at least highly unethical."

"So is asking your boss for all intents and purposes if she has left her fiancé for another woman."

"Touché. Don't worry, I wouldn't have said anything, he's too adorable."

"He is pretty great, isn't he?" She could feel that goofy grin forming itself on her face, sending all thoughts of the past and the impending test results to the farthest corner of her mind.

"Look at you all glowing!" beamed Arianna. "I bet you regret dumping him now, don't you?"

"Actually I don't." Her reply was instinctive, and the words shocked her for a moment. But it made some sort of sense. Forget regret or life is yours to miss. "Because who knows if we ended up where we are."

"That's true. Anyway, you're great together. And it's clearer to me now than ever."

She was almost afraid to ask. "What is?"

"I'm finding you a proper wedding dress even if it's the last thing I do."

And although she made a whole show out of rolling her eyes and groaning, inwardly she felt like crying. She would have given anything for this wedding dress issue to be the biggest problem in her life just now.

Knowing her crazy schedule for the following week, she was dreading it, but the truth was that she'd never felt more driven, her mind sharper than in the days leading to her first dress rehearsal. She came into it with mixed feelings, as she hadn't started from scratch with the production but rather inherited it, and tried to do her best with what she'd been given, but thanks for the entire team the rehearsal went without a hitch (as far as wardrobe was concerned at least), and the endless praise by her superiors made her momentarily optimistic about what was coming.

She returned home way after midnight, her throat scratchy from talking so much and feeling every muscle in her body. Mark and Libby were both out for the count – neither one stirred as she showered and changed. But the warm shower woke her up considerably, and so she found herself back in the living room with her laptop and notes. The rehearsal left her inspired and filled with adrenaline. Just for half an hour, she told herself.

The next thing she knew, it was the following morning. Mark's idea for her to get some rest was tempting and so she walked back into their bedroom with the intention to do just that, but literally the moment she swept back the covers her phone pinged with a new text message. Thinking it would be Arianna or someone else work-related she picked it up absentmindedly and glanced at the screen. Her hands began to shake as soon as she caught sight of the name of the sender.

She didn't stop to ponder the cryptic content; Noah was probably not allowed to reveal too much over the phone. It was kind of shocking he'd texted her personally rather than had a secretary to call. She got dressed on autopilot, channeling all her nervous energy into getting her hair and makeup done, and with a final glance at the mirror, promised herself she wouldn't lose it until they were at the clinic. She'd meant to send Libby off on her much-anticipated trip to the museum with the biggest smile on.

She could feel similar anxiety coming off Mark in waves as he sat close to her on the subway. They were holding on to each other's hands wordlessly. Even though she could hear messages accumulating on her phone, she kept it inside her bag, not having the mental capacity to handle any of it just now.

We couldn't be positive, she thought to herself over and over, a prayer of sorts, even though she wasn't sure whom she was addressing. She knew she should probably prepare herself for the worst case scenario, but found herself unable to accept it. On the one hand, as Mark and Noah and even Arianna had all reasoned, the odds were against it. On the other hand, Andy disappeared without a trace. Mark said that the one member in Life who did hear from him, said he left town. And as if that wasn't suspicious enough, she did display some of the symptoms, which suddenly didn't seem as meaningless as before.

Mark squeezed her hand just then, his finger brushing against her engagement ring. She knew he must be terrified too. He would have to relive this nightmare all over again. And yet he stayed true to his word; he didn't leave. He was amazing with Libby ever since they found out. Not for the first time, she wondered what on earth had she done to deserve him.

Outside the clinic they hesitated, but only for a second. They held each other's gaze for a second longer, then walked in. It was early morning, and yet the place was bustling with activity. It was ten tense minutes before Noah had become available. They followed him into the same examination room as before.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, I know you're probably anxious for the results."

A bitter chuckle escaped her. Anxious was one way to put it.

Noah looked through the pile of folders on the desk in front of him. "So let's cut straight to the chase, shall we?" He took out several documents and laid them on the desk facing them. They were covered with charts and graphics, so much so that even the text on them seemed illegible. Her eyes flew across the paper, but it was all a blur. She couldn't even make out their names, let alone anything else.

"What does it mean?" asked Mark, looking as puzzled as she felt.

"You're negative. All three of you."

Mark's sigh of relief was audible, stronger even than her own. He found his voice before she was able to. "Negative? Are you sure?"

"As I said, we've performed a more thorough examination given your circumstances. So yes, I'm sure."

"Negative?" she asked. "So is Libby?"

"So is Libby," nodded Noah, allowing a tiny smile to pierce through his professional expression.

A sob escaped her before she could hold it back, her promise not to lose it crumbling before her eyes. She could feel tears streaming down her face, probably ruining the makeup she'd so meticulously applied earlier. "Sorry," she said, "I'm just..."

"I know it's overwhelming. Take all the time you need." As he handed her a box of tissues, a knock came on the door, and a nurse peeked in. "Sorry, guys, I have another patient waiting. You take care, okay?"

"Thanks for everything, Noah," said Mark, and there was unmistaken shakiness to his voice as well. The door was shut behind him with a soft click. No one kicked them out. They just stared at each other, and as the shock began to fade, despair and fear shifted into laughter. She felt a relief so enormous it left her dizzy.

"We should call your parents," said Mark, and she adored him for his ability to stay so composed through all of this. Probably why he was such a valued member in Life.

"Yeah," she agreed, still sniffing, while rummaging through her bag looking for her compact. Those may have been tears of joy, but they were not more merciful than tears of grief. Finally retrieving it, she glanced at her reflection and winced. "Man, I'm a mess. I have a meeting in three hours."

"I feel like sleeping for a week."

"Well, you can't do that," she threw him a look from above the small mirror, shifting from helpless to practical within seconds.

"Oh, yeah? What did you have in mind?" he asked slyly, giving her what he'd probably thought was a sultry look.

"Duh, Marky, we have a wedding to plan!"

She felt slightly more composed as they rode uptown to have breakfast together before she dashed to her meeting. In between they'd managed to speak to her parents and text Tammy and Arianna. Everyone's relief was uplifting, giving her the energy boost she so needed to pull through the day.

Following the meeting, Arianna all but kicked her ass out of the office, sending her home for a much needed rest before their factory tour the following day. She picked up Libby from school and they made dinner together to the sound of show tunes, generally fooling around until Mark got home. Dinner was the most normal they had all week. She didn't feel the enormity of the burden the two of them had shouldered until it was lifted. She had absolutely no intention to turn on her laptop that evening, and as Mark went into his study to catch up on some paperwork, she read with Libby. Later that evening, as she was staring at her own book, Mark walked in.

"Hey, are you coming to bed?"

"Yeah," he said, but hesitated on the doorway. Then he closed the door halfway behind him and turned to face her, his expression grim.

"What's wrong?" she asked fretfully. She didn't think she could handle bad news again so soon, but he looked distressed. He came to sit next to her, fumbled with the bedspread. "Mark, what?"

"I just got an email from Andy," he said, peeking at her as if to gauge her reaction. "Apparently he was also rattled by last week. Spent a few days upstate, thinking things through. He said he felt a need to tell me the whole story." He paused to take a breath. "He wasn't HIV positive when he was with you. He contracted it three years ago after spending a drunken night with a colleague. Of course, we already know that now, but…"

"It's always too little too late with him," she said softly. Drunken one night stands had never been Andy's style. Then again, she was beginning to suspect she'd never really known him.

"Anyway, he asked to be transferred to Boston, effective immediately. He asked me to reassure you he would never do anything to try and take Libby away from you. Said he would happily give you money, but didn't think you'd want it."

At least he had still known her, if she couldn't claim the opposite. "I don't want anything from him."

He nodded as if he'd figured as much. "I think he meant it as an apology... of sorts. Like you said, too little too late. Oh, well."

"Are you going to write him back?"

"Not if you don't want me to."

"I can't tell you what to do."

"But he's your ex-husband. It doesn't feel right to... I doubt he even expects a reply; I guess he sort of wanted to get it off his chest. Get closure for everyone involved."

"Like I said, I don't want anything from him. You should do whatever feels right to you. I won't resent you if you want to write him back."

"Okay," he nodded, although he seemed a bit uncertain still. He reached out and placed a hand on her cheek, and she leaned her face into his hand and smiled at him. "Are you okay?"

She didn't know if it was closure she felt, but it was something resembling relief, and that was more than enough, for now. "Never better."

The tour on Friday was so exhausting she was nodding off to sleep on the subway and nearly missed her stop. Feeling ridiculous, she jumped off the train in the last second, which earned her a dirty look from the conductor on the platform. With each step that brought her closer to home, the only things on her mind were a long shower, a glass of wine, and plugging her phone to a charger and then forgetting about it for the rest of the evening.

The smell hit her as soon as she walked in – delicious and homey, quite possibly Italian. She sniffed her way to the kitchen where she found Mark, hovering over the stove with an air of concentration. Their dining table was already set for two, and there were even candles burning cheerfully in the middle of it. She stared at it all in disbelief.

"What's all this?"

He turned, startled, as if he hadn't heard her come in. "Shit, you're early."

"Why, have you got some other girl coming over?"

He walked over to her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're funny when you're exhausted."

"I nearly rode all the way to Harlem," she rolled her eyes at her own mess-up, then sniffed the air again. "Something smells amazing."

"I knew I'd better check your schedule with Arianna," he groaned. "It was supposed to be a surprise. Your parents have Libby for the night. You still owe me that proper date."

"Oh, so this surprise is not really for my own sake, but yours?"

He actually seemed nervous by her reaction. He ran a hand through his hair nervously. "This is not going so well."

"I love you for putting all this together. But I don't know if I'll count it as a proper date, given we're both massively sleep-deprived."

"Why don't you take a shower? I'll be done by then."

"Will you be offended if I put on sweats?"

"You can put on whatever you want. You call the shots tonight."

"You're amazing. I'll be right back."

She'd recovered considerably after the warm shower she'd craved, and although she knew Mark would absolutely not be offended if she did show up wearing sweats, he was making an effort, so it was only fair she would do the same. The dress she chose was raspberry colored and clinging, and while it was probably too confining for dinner, it was bound to leave an impression. She kept her hair down, and it tumbled down her back wild and loose, and didn't bother with makeup because they weren't going anywhere. Mark was just placing something on the table, but he halted as soon as she reemerged, the platter hovering in a dangerous angle over the table.

"I didn't want to feel underdressed," she casually explained, and his open stares made her heart race.

"Clearly, I'm the one underdressed now," he said when he seemed to find his voice again.

"Well, you did the cooking, that kind of balances things out. I hope you don't mind the lack of shoes," she said, looking down at her bare feet.

"It only makes the whole thing better somehow."

He had that look. She shook her head fondly. "You're wondering where you'd put your camera, didn't you?"

"No," he said indignantly, his cheeks flaring. "I know exactly where I've put it. I just wonder if you'll give me a hard time about getting it."

"You bet your ass I will, Marky," she giggled.

"Here, have some wine," he all but shoved a glass under her nose. "Maybe you'll feel differently about it later."

Despite the strange circumstances (constant yawning on both ends, dinner indoors and the fact both of them were barefoot), it was the sweetest, most unconventional formal date ever, and the perfect ending for a stressful week. Not a single word was said about work. Instead, for the first time in ages, they actually discussed the wedding, a fact which shocked both of them. And a date was finally set – mid-September, when it wasn't too hot.

"I was wondering about something," she told him later. He was sitting on the sofa, and she was half lying, half reclining against one of its edges with her feet in his lap. "I know we decided against doing vows." The decision was unanimous, actually, probably the easiest one they'd made. As far as she was concerned, it was so awfully cliche, and way too personal to be recited in front of everyone. And as for Mark, well, anything to avoid speaking in public was a bonus. "But what would you have said if we did do them? Hypothetically?"

"Hypothetically?" he asked, staring ahead thoughtfully. "I would have said that you broke my heart over a decade ago. But then you returned, and healed me. And that in itself made the time in between worth it."

Her conversation with Arianna earlier in the week came to mind. She knew it was the closest thing to a firsthand confession she would ever get from him. If she was being honest, she wasn't sure she wanted to know more. Knowing what she'd done was painful enough as it was. "That's actually kind of sweet."

"Never to be repeated in front of other people."

"Oh, for sure."

"I was just checking."

"I haven't changed my mind about this. Mine is possibly worse, so there's no way."

"Why, what would you have said?"

She leaned back, deliberating, even though she didn't really need to think about it. The words sort of formed themselves in her mind, her way of making sense of the whole thing, with Arianna's recount of Tammy's words functioning as catalyst of sorts. "Apparently I needed to hurt you in our twenties only to realize in our thirties that you're the love of my life."

He blinked, then stared at her in disbelief. "Are you drunk?"

"No." She shifted, tucking her feet beneath her as she was kneeling in front of him. "You are the life of my life. If there's anything to be taken from these past few months, and especially this week, it's that."

"Well, you're mine. But I could have told you that way back then."

"I probably wasn't listening." She looked at him as sincerely as she could, and held his gaze. "I know how much I hurt you. I don't just mean Joanne." He seemed to want to protest, but she shook her head, needing to be out with it. "Back then I couldn't leave this place fast enough. Now I never want to be away from you."

Mark said nothing for the longest time, then shook his head incredulously. "How the hell did we get here?"

All the answers she could come up with summed into one single word. "Christmas."

"What is it with us and Christmases?"

"That's probably a question for another night," she murmured, expertly silencing him with a kiss as she climbed onto his lap. If she was calling the shots, there was only one way for that night to end. And Mark seemed to wordlessly agree, as he slowly began to peel off her dress as he returned her kiss in earnest.