Kate De Vries did not pine. Absolutely, irrefutably did not.

Regardless of the stories spun within the newspapers of how heart-wrenchingly distraught budding scientist Kate De Vries was after hero Matt Cruse had departed Paris yet again, she was certainly not the pining damsel they decorated her to be.

She despised it. How dare they take away from her scientific achievements, outstanding intellect and world-altering potential? How could they possibly insinuate that she had locked herself within the confines of her own home, losing herself over tear-stained letters addressed to her dashing, globe-trotting fiancé? She was bereaved for her reputation as a successful career woman, not for a man who was simply transporting passengers across the world for weeks at a time.

But more than the myths told of her misery, she loathed something else even more; it was the pitiful, all-knowing looks from any woman who crossed her path. Her mother would frequently call her Paris apartment, inquire about her dietary needs and sleep habits, not directly mentioning Matt's absence but the concern weaved through her words was enough of an implication.

After acquiring an officer's position upon a prestigious passenger ship, Matt's first departure was the beginning of Kate's torturous assailment from concerned family and friends. They visited her workplace and home to 'check on her condition' like she was afflicted with a terrible disease. As far as they were concerned it was a disease. To be separated from your partner in life, to rest in a half-empty bed each night, to eat your evening meal in silence, without someone to share your day's stresses with.

She thought it absurd. Their bed always felt too crowded when Matt was home, his body heat too uncomfortable for the warmth of summer. Her evening meal was spent within the buzz of a restaurant, too loud to dwell on one's own thoughts of being alone. And her days certainly weren't stressed, with her brilliant mind stretched and her wild imagination sated by the numerous specimens occupying the laboratory.

No doubt she loved Matt. She wouldn't have agreed to the nonsense that was matrimony if she not. But she was an individual, a woman who had dreams and ambitions and of course, a mind of her own. That notion was certainly lost to the media and even those dear to her when Matt departed. Or perhaps the idea had never even crossed their minds to begin with. They lived and breathed the idea that a woman was the property of a man, destined to fold his clothes, prepare his meals, bear his children and keep the house for his weary self to rest in. They didn't know that one of the reasons she had fell in love with Matt Cruse was because he needed nor wanted none of the sort. He had reassured her that the last person to expect wifely duties from Kate De Vries was undoubtedly himself, and his love for her would remain constant because of it.

After another not-so-lonesome dinner at Chef Vlad's restaurant, Kate ascended the front steps to her apartment, opening the door to a cold, unlit abode. It was late, past the time that a young, aristocratic lady should be wandering the damp streets of Paris.

Gazing around the dining room, a dark object hanging from a chair caught her eye in the dim light; Matt's jacket. He'd left it the morning of his departure, his hurried mind forgetting to take it with him whilst grabbing a quick breakfast. She had kept reminding herself to place it back in their closet, but it continued to slip her mind despite it being a regular sight upon her arrival back home. She ventured into the kitchen, returning to the dining table with a full glass of water for the vase of flowers upon it. Another item that Matt had left behind as he did every time his job took him far from Paris. It was strange how she never forgot to do this one act, yet the jacket lay untouched every day he was away.

Feeling her eyes become heavy, Kate readied for sleep and snuggled into the slightly chilled sheets in their half-filled bed. Matt's scent gently perfumed the pillow beneath her head and a spring Parisian breeze caressed her cheeks. Her sight grew blurry with sleep as the small glimmer of the stars set her mind at ease. Matt wasn't with her in person or occupying the other half of the bed, but he was still under the same sky and forever occupying half of her heart.

So no, Kate De Vries did not pine. But maybe, just a little, she did miss him.