A/N: Hey, I'm not dead! Yea-bah! I apologize for the slight delay. School's been rough and I'll be shifting courses. From Mass Communications to something a bit nearer and related to CSI… Anthropology. Wish me luck.

People, I'm sad to say that this is the beginning of the inevitable end. They say that as things draw to a close, it's harder to walk to it. Maybe this is what's happening.

So I hope you like this chapter. A bit more, guys. Thanks for staying with me!

"Repeat. What. You. Just. Said."

"Stella told me to prepare all these for you," she said calmly. I let her go and let her continue, "That's right. Everything that I'm doing for you – it's because of her. She told me what you like. She's more than happy to help me with it."

"And you asked her this knowing what she felt all along?" I asked her angrily.

She sat down and sobbed, "I wanted to do everything to keep you, Mac. Can't you see that? I wanted to make you happy like Stella does. How I long to see you smile the way you do when she cracks a joke. In this game, it's cutthroat."

"Game?" I said arching my eyebrow up.

"LOVE, Mac," she said forcefully. "One thing I've learned on my job – dealing with the sick and the dead – life is too short. When I met you, I felt alive. Stella told me herself… you're a keeper. I thought I wasn't enough for you, that I don't deserve you. Now, I know… I'm not, don't," she finished defeated.

I felt guilty. I knelt down at her and tried to pull her in my arms to comfort her. But she pulled away, "Please don't make this harder than it already is, Mac. It's okay. I understand it now. Go to her; she needs you," Peyton said placing a kiss on my lips. Probably the last.

"Thanks, Peyton," I whisper to her. "And I'm sorry."

I knew nothing more could be said so I went out the door and hailed the first cab I could see. The rain was pelting outside and the night is darker than other nights. It's probably better like this – the weather mirrored what the three of us are feeling.

The streets flew by in a blur to me. I dared the cabbie to break the speed limit just to reach my apartment… my Stella on time. We passed lampposts, meters, stores, clubs, Laundromats, restaurants – in my world, potential crime scenes. Even late at night, New Yorkers are hustling and bustling with their business. Umbrellas, newspapers, plastic sheets, a blur of jackets crowd the sidewalks and waiting sheds just to keep dry. But amidst that, I saw a trench coat-clad figure – dripping wet from head to toe.

I stopped the cab, paid him and raced up the street to that woman. My bag is waterproof so it was the least of my problems. I was gaining up on her… it was…

"Stella!" I cried out. Heads turn towards me but I don't care. "Stella wait up!"

Peyton is right; I love Stella. And I've been trying to deny it for the longest time in fear of losing her if she didn't feel the same. Come to think of it, she's the only real thing in my life – I love her and now I realize that I rebuilt my world around her.

Life is short. Peyton's words rang in my ears. Yes, and I've been wasting it long enough.

I'm always at your side

I got looks and offers from people since I walked out of Mac's apartment complex. Remind me to bring my umbrella the next time. Only… I don't think there will be a next time. The rain was pouring down hard. I recalled Sister Connie's soothing words: the raindrops are the tears of the angels in Heaven. They cry when your little hearts are crying. We would be huddled together in one corner of the playroom, scared of the thunder and lighting and trying to stay dry from the leaky ceilings.

Right now, I don't know which was crying: my mind or my heart. Probably both because it took less than five minutes and I'm soaking wet. Mr. Kwon, the friendly Korean chef a few blocks from Mac's place (we always eat there) followed me for three blocks with an umbrella over my head. Countless New Yorkers invited me to share their umbrellas with them. A nice woman even offered me a ride home.

I thanked them for the invite but I kept on walking in the rain. I love the rain. It's cold – puts me back to reality. I'm out here soaking and probably catching a cold, while he's in his girlfriend's warm arms… maybe making love to her.

As punishment for holding on to false hope, I decided to walk all the way to my place. I've done this before – with him in tow – when either of us is in the mood for a long chat. But doing it alone, in the rain, no less, is torture.

I treaded a long stretch of some street, uphill with water soaking my pants. I looked up to the dark and heavy sky thanking the heavens for the rain. At least, I was not crying alone.

"Stella!" I heard someone cry out. "Stella, wait up!" I know that voice anywhere. That's the voice that makes me laugh when he cracks an occasional joke, the voice that challenges my theories and hypotheses, the voice that makes me smile with his praises. It's also the voice that comforts me when I need a friend – the same voice that tells me what to do. It's Mac.

Apologies again for the not replying here, I have to fly out the door as soon as this chapter is posted. Terribly sorry.

ALL REVIEWS ARE VERY APPRECIATED! hugs