Two Months Later – In Early July

John sat quietly in the loft wearing nothing but his black boxer briefs. He wasn't the least bit tired as the last two numbers were walks in the park. Thoughts about his life threatened to overwhelm him yet again but he resisted the urge to get the bottle of Jack from the kitchen. He knew that would lead to nothing good.

He had her. He had Joss, the woman of his heart and soul. But he screwed that up and pushed her into the arms of another man where she seemed to be quite happy. In a way he was happy for her – she certainly deserved all the happiness she could get. But she had been happy with him, too, at least for a while. He could feel it - even when she wasn't near him he could feel her happiness and that gave him unabashed joy. And he had been happy too. If only he could have accepted this happiness in the gift to him that was Joss! He could make her happy again. He would make her happy again! If only she would let him back into her life as lover and as friend…

But now, here he sat on a Saturday night yet again, alone, missing Joss. Wanting to see her face, hear her voice – even if she were scolding him. Feeling sorry for himself was what got him into this mess in the first place. In the past, he might have phoned Zoe, or if Zoe phoned him, agreed to "meet" her. The phoning and agreeing were pretty frequent early on back when they first met, but Zoe was not the woman for him. She was never the woman for him. He knew it from day 1. He'd mistakenly believed that Zoe had accepted their relationship as a simple arrangement between two consenting adults. He should have known better. There was nothing simple about Zoe. If only he had realized this before he lost Joss.

He remembered the final straw that started the ending of his relationship with Joss this third and what appeared to be final time, as if it occurred yesterday. It was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving…

Joss, it is for the best, he'd said. You have too much to lose – you have a life, a career, a family. I can't be responsible if something bad happens to you. It has already and I've been too selfish to leave you alone. But I have to – for your sake.

Joss stood before him in tears. Please don't do this, she'd pleaded. We can work it out. Don't you trust me? Don't you respect me and my ability to look out for myself? To decide whom to love? I chose you John, knowing what I know about what you do, I still chose you. Please don't send me away, not again. What's different this time? Why are you doing this again?

It's just over, Joss, it's better for you this way. You'll see. He had kissed her forehead fiercely and walked away.

That Friday, Zoe phoned him for drinks. He had been sulking in the loft, but agreed to meet her. Why not? He was single and suddenly horny and hard sex with Zoe might be just what the doctor ordered.

They met at Stilton's for drinks within the hour. Zoe looked beautiful as always and it didn't take him long to rise to the occasion. The flirting was incessant and they each demonstrated their willingness to kick things up to the next level. They were sitting at the bar. He had his tongue down Zoe's willing throat, the one hand behind her head holding her to his mouth. The other hand was under her dress and creeping up her thigh. His eyes were open as he was gauging Zoe's reaction him. Just as Zoe parted her legs to give him better access to her panty- less bottom, John felt a familiar tingle. He turned his head, only to see Joss, watching him from across the room, having been dragged out by two of her friends.

Seeing Joss and sensing that her evening might come to an undesired ending, Zoe took John's face between her hands, leaned in and kissed him for all she was worth. John moved to pull away as Zoe's hand trailed down his chest and rested suggestively near his crotch. When he finally got free, Joss was gone.

Come on – let's get out of here, Zoe had suggested. John threw down $100 and followed her obediently to her place.

And to his shame, he had fucked Zoe like a madman, trying to forget the look on Joss's face, trying to exorcize her from his soul. It didn't work. It never worked. So why the hell did he keep doing it?

He left quickly, thinking to rush to Joss's house but decided against it. Instead, he went home and phoned her. Surprisingly, she picked up on the first ring.

What do you want John?

I wanted to explain.

Explain what? That you really left me because you have another woman? Why would you play me like this? I thought you loved me John. You said you did. I thought I meant more to you than that. Her voice quivered and John knew she was crying. You could have just told me, John. You could have just told me.

Joss, it's not what you think. I'm-

How long?, she interrupted.

What?

How long, she insisted. How long have you been fucking Zoe?

He winced at the vulgarity – it sounded so sordid, seedy and just plain wrong (which he knew it was). John knew what she was asking so he paused, wanting to get the words correct.

How long? Joss screamed at him

It started about 2 years ago, he blurted.

He heard Joss gasp, knowing that she was replaying his time with her, wondering if she missed cues that he had been lying about his love for her. He'd quickly added, would it matter if I didn't sleep with her tonight? Knowing full well he had…

You were certainly well on the way from what I saw. I doubt you stopped on my account, since my account never stopped you before. Take care of yourself John. Please don't call me again.

And that was it – the true love of his life, gone.

Having completed his mental visit to incidents from 8 months past, John stood and walked over to his laptop. Opening Spotify, he resumed his work on the next offering to Joss. He had decided two months ago to pour out his heart to her using music. Not like he had a choice since she had refused to talk to him, or listen to him, when he tried to talk to her – to explain. She had refused his calls and texts. This was after he had blown yet another opportunity to get close to her again back in May. But he had to find a way to communicate, and sending carefully selected songs, several a week for the last two months, was the best way he could think of. What did Prince say?

Sometimes a man can't find words….just every so often words of another…

just seem to work out fine.

Was she listening? He had no idea, but he could hope. She hadn't returned the music files and as best as he could tell, she hadn't blocked him. The emails had been opened – he knew that much. But he wanted her to listen to the music, not with her ears, but with her heart, and give him one more chance. That was all he needed – just one more chance. If only she would give him one more chance.

Last week he was feeling especially low. He had sent her Pavarotti's E Lucevan Estelle (which he translated from the Italian himself and included it in the email), Bonnie Raitt's I Can't Make You Love Me, Laura Fabian's Je 'Taime (which he very liberally translated from the French himself and included it in the email), and The Dells "The Love We Had". These were intended as the last plaintive cries of a lover and he thought this music would contain his last messages to her, but then he remembered the last words he had spoken to her that final night they were together, after the Argentine-Brazil gala – "…I'm not giving you up." Though he would never admit it, he remembered her last words to him as well, "You already have".

So here he was, back on Spotify, doing his thing – looking for songs in various genres that he could send that reflected what he would say to her if only he could. She favored R & B, his thing was Motown and Rock. He sent a few rock tunes, but not many thinking that if he stuck with what she liked the likelihood that she might listen increased. So this week, he'd downloaded The Temptations, All I Need, Sam Smith, Leave Your Lover, Will Downing, This Time I'll Be Sweeter, Stevie Wonder, Signed, Sealed Delivered, I'm Yours, Michael McDonald, Baby I'm for Real (he knew she really liked Michael McDonald).

Just as he was downloading the final song, his phone rang. John checked the time (a little after midnight) then groaned. He picked up the phone. "Finch", he said in greeting, trying not to sound annoyed. When there was no immediate response he looked at the caller ID. "Joss", he said eagerly.

"I'm sorry…I shouldn't have called", she whispered.

"No, no, please, please don't hang up. Is everything alright? You, Taylor?" John jumped up rushing to the closet to grab some clothes.

"We're both fine."

John tamped down his panic, and breathed a sigh of relief while standing still, expectantly. After a few moments Joss said, "I can't sleep."

He smiled inwardly, remembering how she used to call him when she couldn't sleep and he would talk to her or read to her over the phone, or go over to her house to keep her company until she'd drop off in his arms.

Tread lightly here, John, he warned himself. He had a million questions for her, starting with why she phoned him and not Almeida. Had they broken up (he hoped)? Was there an opening for him? If only there was an opening.

John paused a bit. "How about I come get you for a drive? It's a nice night and the air might do you good." Please, please, please, he silently begged.

Joss paused a bit. "OK", the words spoken softly as if she were uncertain about seeing or talking to him again.

Yes!, thought John. "I'll be there in 40. Wait for me."

Ten minutes later, John was showered and dressed in men's slim fit dark jeans, a fitted European style v-neck white tee, and Cole Haan driving loafers (no socks). He grabbed a watch, his favorite bracelet, and headed to the door. He stopped and turned around abruptly and went back to his computer desk, picking up an mp4. Standing for another second or two to make certain he hadn't forgotten anything, he rushed out to the garage to his car.

Back in Brooklyn…

Joss hanged up the phone. She'd done it – she'd gone and done it. She phoned John, something she swore she would never do again unless life or death. She huffed gently, maybe this was both life and death – a chance at a happy life with someone she dearly and apparently clearly loved, or the final death knell for same.

She'd been thinking about John a great deal since the night Sebastian broke up with her two weeks before. She couldn't fault him. She had been clear with him from the beginning about not wanting anything serious, explaining that she was newly out of a bad relationship. Sebastian had agreed to remain casual. Nonetheless, the two of them had grown extremely close during the last 4 months – almost inseparable, doing little things as well as big things together. He was attentive, intelligent, funny, witty, caring, affectionate, sensitive, open, and accomplished. He talked with her often, seeking her counsel on some of his business and philanthropic interests. Did she forget he was rich too? Did she forget amazingly handsome? He was 6'3" of raw strength, masculinity, and sensuality, with long brown hair, hazel eyes, full lips, and a slash through one of his eyebrows, that did nothing to mar his breathtaking appearance. The icing on the cake was that Taylor liked him too.

She had worried about introducing him to Taylor, but in the interest of moving on, she did so, at the appropriate time of course. Taylor still spent time with John - the pair had a relationship that existed outside of her – one that was good for Taylor (and John too). They played basketball, did archery, practiced martial arts. So as difficult as it was at the beginning, especially when Taylor would come home wanting to share about something really cool he had learned from "Mr. Badass", Joss put on her Mom face and listened attentively, never asking about John, or sending John messages through Taylor.

Taylor also took to Sebastian. They went to movies, visited skate parks, played soccer. Sebastian gave him guitar lessons, and conversed with Taylor in Spanish, to a point where Taylor was at the beginning stage of proficiency, a skill that Joss had wanted desperately for Taylor – proficiency in a foreign language. Taylor was thriving with all the male positive male attention.

But as perceptive as he was, Sebastian sensed that something, someone was in the way of their progress. The last night that they made love, Sebastian begged her to want him the way she had wanted that other man. In that moment Joss had a sense that there was a time stamp on their relationship, because she didn't know if she could ever want anyone the way she had wanted that other man – John. And Sebastian read that truth in her eyes. So as much as she had grown to care for him, she had to let Sebastian go. Dammit - How many times would John cause her pain, cause her to lose something – or someone who had become important to her?!

But in spite of everything, she had done it, she had gone and done it. She called John. It would play out as it would. Onward and upward or over and out. If only she knew which…

A/N: This story has been tough. I hope the angst level hasn't been too much for you. And we're getting closer to the end of this part of the story (big smile)! Next chapter soon. By the by, the Prince line is from his cover of "Betcha By Golly Wow", originally sung by the Stylistics. I have imagined a whole 2 month playlist of 'baby baby please come back' type music. What tunes would you send out? Send me a PM!