Nothing had changed, and yet everything was different. They still spent almost all of their time together, and it was wonderful and terrible. Now that he was aware of his feelings for her, Sergio was able to enjoy the time he spent with her much more consciously, appreciating how lucky he was that he could spend his days in her company, talk to her, play chess with her, look at her as much as he wanted – and he never wanted to stop looking at her. On the other hand, it was torture. He couldn't focus on what she was saying because he got caught up in her eyes, he got dizzy if she stood too close to him, and a hundred times a day he was struck by a sudden longing to kiss her, to hold her, a longing so strong that it overwhelmed him, to the point where he sometimes had to excuse himself from the room just so he could breathe again.

He had to monitor his own behavior constantly and meticulously, and it exhausted him. He had briefly considered trying to distance himself from her, but had almost immediately discarded that idea. He was afraid that, if he did, she would get upset and leave him again, as she'd done last time, and the mere thought of it terrified him. And besides that, he didn't think he'd have the strength to stay away from her. So he tried to strike a balance between spending time with her and being friendly, while also trying not to show how he felt about her, since that could only lead to awkwardness.

At night, he lay awake for hours and cursed himself for being the stupidest man on earth. I'm not in love with Sergio anymore. Anymore. That meant she had been in love with him before, last summer – in fact, she had left because he didn't reciprocate those feelings. All summer, she had wanted to be with him, while he had done nothing but ignore and avoid her. If only he hadn't been so blind – if only he could have opened his eyes and seen her, they could have been together – but instead, he'd been an absolute idiot and now he'd missed his chance. Now, every time he wanted to kiss her and couldn't, he was faced with the fact that he could have kissed her at any time last summer, that she had probably wanted him to kiss her, and he just… hadn't. His own stupidity astounded and frustrated him so much that it was keeping him awake, and he stared up at the canopy of his bed throughout the night, filled with regret.

But life went on, and he had to find a way to live with these feelings, because he had a sense that they weren't just going to go away again. He tried suppressing them, but it was hopeless – he couldn't control his thoughts anymore, and he couldn't stop his heart from beating faster when she was near, he couldn't stop himself from smiling whenever she smiled, or looking at her when she wasn't looking. He just tried not to be too obvious about it. It was hard.

After the ball, return invitations for social events in the neighborhood came streaming in, and for a moment, Sergio feared that they would start taking up all of their time again, but to his relief, Raquel sifted through the pile every morning at breakfast, and they decided together which ones they wanted to accept. No to big dances, yes to music evenings in small company, and that way, his life remained bearable and their routine wasn't disrupted too much. To his surprise, Sergio noticed one day that he didn't even really mind going out anymore, because he could go out with her, and he was so proud whenever he could go somewhere with her on his arm, so proud that she was his wife. She never left him alone on any of these events, and often they ended up having a wonderful time just talking to each other.

Once, when she was in the bathroom, he overheard two ladies saying that Lord and Lady Marquina really seemed madly in love, and it made him smile rather sadly. Well, they were half right. Every once in a while, he thought he saw something in her eyes – something in the way she looked at him, the way she smiled at him – but interpreting other people's feelings had never been his strong suit, and he knew his wife was a very friendly person… He told himself he shouldn't start imagining things. If she had told her best friend that she wasn't in love with him, there was no reason why he should doubt her words.

…

One morning at breakfast, Raquel was going through the invitations as usual, when suddenly her eyes lit up.

"Sergio... Lord Knightley is inviting us to a fox hunt next week. I want to go."

He nodded. It was customary for the ladies to ride out to the meeting place and then back home, while the men did the actual hunting.

"Of course. You can ride to the meet, I'm sure Lady Knightley will be there too, and you can ride home together for lunch."

She shook her head.

"I don't just want to ride out to the meet this time. I want to join the hunt."

He frowned at her.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

She bristled.

"Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean that I shouldn't be allowed…"

He shook his head.

"No, no, I'm not saying anything about you being allowed to do anything, but a hunt means a lot of running around and jumping over things, and you'd have to ride sidesaddle. You could fall and hurt yourself."

"I'm a good rider."

"I know, but… I just want you to be safe."

"What if I'm very careful and I don't let Freya jump over anything?"

He hesitated, visions of her being thrown off Freya battling with the eager expression on her face.

"You'd really like to go?"

"Yes", she said, her eyes shining. "I've always wanted to join a hunt. The stories I've heard always sound so exciting."

He sighed – he had no right to deny her anything anyway.

"Well, then you should go. But please… please be careful."

She looked surprised that he would let her go.

"So you don't mind that it would be… unconventional for me to join the men?"

He shrugged.

"Who am I to tell you what you can or can't do?"

"You're my husband", she said, amused.

"I don't see what that has anything to do with anything."

"Don't you mind that people would talk?"

"I'll survive."

"They're going to say you have no control over your wife", she warned him.

He chuckled at the thought of him controlling her.

"And they'd be quite right. So?"

She looked at him.

"I think you should come with me."

He grimaced. "I don't enjoy hunting."

"Your horse's name is Hunter."

"He was named that when I bought him, he wouldn't respond to anything else anymore. But I've never seen the charm of hunting. Running around through the forest all day, chasing a poor terrified animal."

"I don't want to actually kill anything, I just want the excitement of the chase. And if you come with me, it will seem like you agree with my decision."

"I do agree with your decision."

"But if I'm there alone, that's not what it will seem like."

He hesitated, and she put her hand on his and said:

"Please?"

Hunting suddenly sounded rather pleasant.

"Alright", he said, "I'll come with you."

She smiled.

…

The weather was clear on the day of the hunt, though cold for the time of year. They dressed in their warmest riding clothes and set out together. Since he had gotten her Freya at Christmas, they had gone out riding together every clear day, and he had quickly realized that she was a better rider than he would ever be – not that that surprised him. He watched her on Freya that morning and thought again that he'd made the right choice for her present – woman and horse moved together wonderfully, and they seemed equally eager for the ride. They rode down the drive at a steady trot, then they reached a stretch of straight, open road, and Raquel said:

"Let's race to that tree over there!"

Sergio smiled and agreed, and they both spurred their horses to a gallop, the cold wind rushing past as they raced – though it wasn't much of a race – Freya easily outstripped Hunter, and Raquel stood waiting for him at the tree with a triumphant smile.

"We won!"

"Well done", he smiled.

He loved it when she won. He loved to see her eyes shine like that. He tried not to be obvious about it, but he couldn't help but admire her as she sat easily on the horse, slightly out of breath from the run, her cheeks red with the cold, a few strands of hair escaped from her pins and framing her face in the loveliest way. His wife was so beautiful, and never more so than when she rode her horse with infinite skill and grace.

It didn't take them long to arrive at the meeting place, where men and women were milling around on their best horses, greeting neighbors and discussing the hunt, while gamekeepers were trying to keep the excited dogs in check. Sergio and Raquel were greeted with enthusiasm by Lord Knightley, the host.

"Marquina!" he said. "I can't believe you came! First time for everything, eh?"

Sergio nodded his head in greeting.

"I'm merely here to accompany my wife."

"So you're riding home with the ladies?"

"No, she's joining the hunt."

Knightley stared at him.

"Pardon?"

"I'm coming with you", Raquel said brightly. "With your permission of course, Lord Knightley."

Knightley shot Sergio a look.

"Well… it's not really my permission that matters here, is it? You on board with this, Marquina?"

"My wife is an adult", Sergio said calmly. "She makes her own decisions."

People were starting to listen in now, and an excited murmur went around the group that Lady Marquina was joining the men on the hunt. Sergio saw young Lady Morecomb put a hand on her husband's arm and confer with him, then he nodded and she smiled.

"I would like to join too, Lord Knightley."

"Me too", said Mrs. Churchill.

The eldest daughter of Lord Knightley drove her horse forward.

"Can I come too, father?"

The gathered men were shooting looks at Sergio, clearly blaming him for putting weird ideas in the heads of their women, but he merely gave them a mild smile in return and winked at Raquel, who was grinning broadly. Once again, he was so proud of being her husband. The other men didn't want to appear less open-minded than Sergio, apparently, so it was a mixed company that set out for the edge of the forest, the women talking excitedly. Sergio spurred on Hunter and drew up next to Freya.

"Please be careful", he said to his wife. "Don't let Freya jump, and stay close to me so I can help you in case you fall."

"Don't worry", she soothed him, "I haven't fallen off my horse since I was a child."

He noticed that Hunter seemed nervous – he'd never taken the horse hunting before, and the shouting, the many other horses, and the wildly barking dogs were something Hunter wasn't used to. Sergio kept a close eye on Freya – if she became skittish too, she might be harder for Raquel to control.

They all lined up at the edge of the forest, then Lord Knightley's gamekeeper released the fox into the brush. The animal immediately skittered away, to excited barking from the dogs, and they gave it a few minutes' head start before heading in after it. The forest was big, and soon the group split up to follow different paths. Raquel and Sergio stayed together, following the sound of the calls of the other hunters and the barking of the dogs. They set a decent pace that wouldn't exhaust the horses but that still covered a lot of ground. Sergio kept glancing at Raquel, and she was clearly enjoying herself as she ducked under branches and swerved around puddles, spurring Freya on with soft sounds and clicks of her tongue. Hunter wasn't having a good time – he kept wanting to turn back – and Sergio secretly agreed with him. This wasn't exactly his idea of a fun Saturday, but if it made her happy…

Suddenly, a big bird flew out of the brush right in front of them, and both horses startled and swerved sharply, and before Sergio knew what was happening, he was on the ground, watching his horse run home in a full galop – apparently Hunter had had enough.

"Sergio!" Raquel said in alarm. "Are you okay?"

"Yes", he groaned, carefully feeling at his recently mended ribs. "Just some bruises. Nothing broken, I think."

She looked at him, and he could see amusement creep into her eyes.

"Oh", she said, clearly trying hard not to laugh. "Oh, and you thought I would fall off."

"Yes", he said succinctly. "I appreciate the irony."

"Not as much as I do", she grinned.

"Have some sympathy for your poor husband."

"My poor husband was pretty patronizing earlier."

He felt himself go red as he scrambled up off the ground.

"You're right, I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven", she smiled. "So what now?"

"I suppose I'll just have to walk back. Hunter must be halfway home by now."

"Yes", she chuckled, "he was about as enthusiastic about this whole endeavor as you were."

"You can go on if you want to, but then please find some other people you can stay near."

"No", she said firmly. "We'll go back together. Freya can carry us both."

Sergio looked at the horse. It was true that she seemed very strong, but he couldn't ride sidesaddle, so it would mean having to get on behind Raquel.

"I'll just walk, thank you."

"Don't be ridiculous, you can't walk all that way in your riding boots."

"Freya is a big horse, how am I going to get up without being able to use the stirrups?"

Raquel maneuvered Freya until she was next to a fallen tree trunk.

"There, now you can climb up."

Sergio hesitated, looking up at her, but he could see no reasonable reason for refusing.

"Come on", she encouraged him.

He grimaced – oh, there was no way he would be able to do this elegantly. He said a silent goodbye to his dignity, then got up on the tree trunk and scrambled up on the horse behind his wife. Once he was on, he was faced with a problem.

"Hold on", Raquel said, but he didn't see that happening.

"I'm fine", he said. "Freya's back is broad, I'm fairly stable…"

But Freya wasn't used to the extra weight on her back, and she put back her ears and pranced nervously, forcing him to wrap his arms around his wife to avoid a second dive into the mud.

He saw Raquel smile as she patted the horse's neck.

"Good girl, Freya."

The horse calmed down again, but Sergio deemed it safer to keep his arms around Raquel's waist – just in case. He tried to keep some distance between them, but as the horse started walking, the movements and the curve of her back made him slide forwards until he was pressed against Raquel, who glanced over her shoulder and gave him an amused look.

"Hi."

"I'm sorry", he said, feeling himself go a bright, burning red.

She grinned. "It's quite alright. Just make sure you don't fall again."

They walked on, and all he could focus on was the feeling of her in his arms – and oh, she smelled so, so nice – this was excruciating. To his utter consternation, her closeness and the rhythmic movements of the horse were making his body react in a very embarrassing way, and he desperately tried to shift away from her, but with every step of Freya's, he shifted forward again.

"Stop fidgeting", Raquel said. "You're making her nervous."

So he stopped moving and hoped that she wouldn't notice that he was about to burst into flame with embarrassment. He was thankful that the ridge of the saddle was between them, at least, though it made him damn uncomfortable. He tried to look at the forest around them – anything not to notice how slim her waist was under his hands, how supple she moved with the horse, how she smelled of roses. A strip of skin was exposed between her collar and her pinned-up hair, and suddenly he couldn't take his eyes off it. What would it be like to kiss her there? How soft would her skin be? He firmly shook himself – stop it. He was notallowed to think about her that way.

All in all, the ride home was veryuncomfortable for Sergio, and he was infinitely relieved when they arrived and he could slide off the horse. She dismounted with grace, then gave him a close look.

"Are you alright? You seem a little… flustered."

He couldn't look at her.

"It's… I… uhm… I'm going to wash off the mud", he muttered, then fled inside.

In his room, he washed himself at a basin of water, telling himself that he couldn't help it – he couldn't control the way his body reacted to her nearness any more than he could stop breathing. Still, he was so grateful that she hadn't noticed anything, and he prayed to god that nothing like this would ever happen again.

…

He had taken up the habit of reading deep into the night. He couldn't sleep anyway, so he settled in bed with a candle and a book and read until his eyes literally closed with exhaustion. Tonight was no different – at 2 a.m., the house was completely silent, but he was still up. He tried to get through a tough chapter in one of his physics books, but after a while he realized that he just kept reading the same passage over and over again because really, his thoughts were somewhere else. How magnificent she'd been today on her horse, and he couldn't stop thinking how it had felt to be that close to her, even if it was just for a while, even if it had made him so uncomfortable. He could still feel her in his arms. What he wouldn't give – what he wouldn't give to hold her again.

Suddenly, there was a soft knock on his door, and he looked up, startled. Who could be at his door at two in the morning? He got out of bed, put on his dressing robe, and opened the door. His eyes went wide when he saw Raquel standing there with a candle, in her nightgown and dressing robe, her hair in a loose braid.

"Are you alright?" he asked immediately.

"Yes", she smiled. "I just couldn't sleep, so I was reading, and when I went downstairs to get a new candle, I saw that there was still light in your room as well, so…"

He looked at her. So… what?

"Do you… maybe want to talk for a bit?" she suggested.

"Oh", he said, happy that she wanted his company. "Of course. Shall we go down?"

"No, it's cold downstairs, all the fires are out. But your fire is still burning. Can I come in?"

He hesitated – she wanted to come into his bedroom? But then he reminded himself that she'd been in his room every day for weeks while he was recovering from being shot, and she probably felt quite comfortable there now and didn't think anything of it.

"Yes", he said, stepping aside to let her in. "Of course."

She brushed past him, and he saw to his consternation that she didn't sit down in a chair as he'd expected, but that she settled herself at the foot of his bed. He stood staring at her – what was he supposed to do now?

She raised her eyebrows.

"Aren't you going to get back in?"

Oh god, while she was on the bed too? That felt distinctly improper… but then again, she was his wife, and she was looking at him questioningly, so he shook himself and got back between the sheets.

"Alright", he said carefully, "what do you want to talk about?"

"Anything", he shrugged. "Why were you still awake?"

"I was reading", he said, half-truthfully. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

She gave him a long look.

"I was just thinking about today", she said softly.

He tensed.

"Oh?"

"Maybe we should get you an actual hunting horse."

He relaxed again.

"Well, if you really want to start hunting regularly, then maybe I should get a proper horse for that, yes."

Even though the fire was burning in the room, it was still rather chilly, and he could see her shiver in her robe. He shouldn't – he didn't want to make her uncomfortable – but… but if she was cold? He tentatively gestured to the space beside him.

"Would you… would you like to get under the covers?"

Her eyes lit up.

"Yes please."

She moved up to the top of the bed, where she got under the blanket and lay down, pulling it up to her chin and sighing in contentment.

"That's much better. Thank you."

For a moment, the mad thought entered his head that he could suggest keeping her warm again like he'd done that one night… but after today, he felt it would be better not to get too close to her anymore, especially if they were both only wearing their night clothes. So he didn't say anything and shifted a little further away from her, to make sure that his body wouldn't get any funny ideas.

She was looking at him, her eyes liquid and dark in the half-light, and he couldn't help but look back at her.

On an impulse, he asked her:

"Raquel… are you happy?"

She considered him, then said:

"Yes. I am."

He smiled in relief.

"Good."

"Are you happy?"

The question took him by surprise. Was he happy? He looked at her as he thought about it, as he considered the highs and lows of unrequited love: the rush he felt whenever she entered a room, the pain of regretting missed chances, the unparalleled feeling of seeing her smile, the despair at night. It was radiance and agony, glorious and awful, and he was experiencing it all with an intensity he'd never suspected himself to be capable of. But – as long as she was with him…

"Yes", he said. "I'm happy."

He kept looking at her, until she smiled and said:

"You look like you want to say something."

Yes, he thought. I'm so in love with you, Raquel. I'm so in love I can't stand it.

Out loud, he said:

"Are you feeling ready to sleep yet?"

"Not really."

"Would you like me to get you some wine?" he suggested. "That might make you sleepy."

She smiled. "Only if you have a glass too."

He nodded, smiling.

"That seems like a decent compromise."

He got out of bed and went downstairs with his candle. He had to go down to the cellar for the wine, and he took his time selecting a bottle of red that he thought she'd like. Then he went to the dining room and poured them both a glass. When he came back to the bedroom, however, he saw that she had already fallen asleep. At first he smiled, but then he was presented with a dilemma: what the hell was he supposed to do now? Should he wake her, so she could go back to her own bed? He knew that that was what he should do, but… but he didn't want to. He told himself he didn't want to wake her when she was finally sleeping, but the truth was that the idea of having her next to him all night was too appealing.

So he put down the wine glasses and the candle, then got back between the sheets, very careful not to wake her. He suspected that he wouldn't be able to sleep while she was beside him, but he didn't care. He lay down with his head on the pillow, and just looked at her face in the candlelight. How could anyone be this lovely? She looked so peaceful, and the thought that she felt comfortable enough in his bed to fall asleep there caused a warm, soft feeling in his chest. He marveled at how, in such a short time, she had come to mean so much to him. Over the past few months, little by little, she had captured him completely, with her quick wit and her intelligence, with the way she cared for those around her, with her strength and warmth and grace. As he kept looking at her, he knew with a simple clarity that what he felt wasn't just infatuation, it wasn't just attraction – he loved her, fully and completely, in a way he had never loved anybody else. That he hadn't managed to appreciate her before it was too late was the biggest regret of his life, weaving a strand of ever-present sadness through his days and every interaction he had with her, but the pain was a price he was prepared to pay – a price he paid willingly, gladly – for the privilege of spending his life in her company.

…

He hadn't thought he would be able to sleep, but he managed to doze a little after all. When he woke up again, it was getting light out, and her face was only inches from his. He froze, not daring to move, not even daring to breathe. The rosy light of dawn illuminated her face in the loveliest way, and he couldn't imagine anything more beautiful to wake up to. Suddenly she stirred, and her eyes opened, still soft with sleep. She didn't seem surprised at all to see him there – she merely smiled.

"Hi", she whispered.

"Hi", he whispered back.

The morning light around them held the promise of a new day, filled with new possibilities – it spoke of new beginnings and starting over. Waking up next to her felt like the most natural thing in the world. She was so close. Wouldn't it also be the most natural thing in the world to finally bridge the gap between them, and kiss her?

But then she seemed to wake up properly. She blinked, then suddenly sat up, breaking the spell of the morning.

"I'm so sorry", she said, turning red. "I didn't mean to fall asleep… here…"

"It's alright", he said, sitting up too, suddenly relieved that he hadn't given in to his impulse – what would she have thought of him?

She laughed, pressing her hands to her face.

"I couldn't fall asleep for hours in my own bed, yet I fall asleep within minutes in yours."

"Well", he smiled. "Now you know what to do the next time you can't sleep."

She gave him a radiant smile, but then, to his utter disappointment, she got out of bed, hugging her dressing gown around herself against the morning chill.

Come back to bed, he thought. Let me keep you warm.

But he didn't say anything as she walked towards the door. She opened it, then turned back to him.

"Thank you for letting me sleep here."

"Anytime", he said earnestly.

She gave him one last smile.

"I'll see you at breakfast."

Then the door closed behind her and she was gone, and he let himself fall back into the pillows and sighed. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of having another day with her. The sun was painting the walls gold – outside, the birds were chirping – spring was in the air. All in all, he thought, if he could choose between being in love with her, and not being in love with her, he wouldn't have to think twice about it. He would choose love every time.