Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns all rights to the following characters. This story is intended only as artistic exercise and I am in no way profiting financially from it.

Warning: This story contains adult themes and language. Babe story.

Intentions of the Heart

Chapter: 5 The Cruelty of Truth

Previously:

Ranger…

I resigned myself to living on the outskirts of her life, knowing that I wasn't strong enough to remove myself from it completely. I would serve as her protector, as her mentor, and as her friend.

But, at night when I closed my eyes, she was always there to welcome me home, my woman, the love of my life.

I rose up to my feet, brushed the sand away from my calves and thighs, and stared off into the distance. Maybe in the future our "someday" would be more than just a dream. A tiny glimmer of hope carried me forward, each step bringing me closer to home.

Stephanie's POV …

I stared across the table at Joe with glazed, unseeing eyes, his voice and the bustling sounds around us fading into a low, droning hum of indiscernible noise. He paused in speech, his eyebrows raised in anticipation, clearly waiting for some sort of acknowledgment to his words. I nodded my head, hoping that I had read his social cue correctly, and that I had given the appropriate response, but I didn't really care enough to ask him to repeat himself.

Pino's was buzzing with activity, the six o' clock rush hour descending upon the cozy, little pizza parlor. I was relieved when we were seated in the privacy of the back, corner booth of the restaurant. The last thing that I wanted to deal with was a room full of curious eyes and eavesdropping ears.

Damn, Burg grapevine.

I picked at the food in front of me, absently tearing the half eaten crust on my plate into dime sized pieces.

I felt like an outsider watching my life unfold in black and white. Like the screening of an old movie, devoid of color and sound, depicting each of my days in lifeless shades of gray. I functioned in a permanent state of autopilot, mindlessly going through the motions… each passing day seemingly as unremarkable and lackluster as the last.

Life without meaning… without joy, was a very cold and lonely existence.

Even the things I enjoyed in the past didn't really interest me anymore. I couldn't focus long enough to watch a Hockey Game, and going out with Lula and Connie felt like more of a chore than a good time… even food seemed to have lost its appeal.

Okay, so I'll admit Tasty Cakes were still damn good, but I was depressed not dead!

Ranger had been gone for 58 days…

83,520 minutes

6,013,440 excruciating heartbeats …

And, I had felt… every … single … one.

It wasn't the physical separation that hurt the most. Ranger had been in the wind more times than I could count, but this time was different. The way things were left between us, the emotional distance that had somehow craved an unbridgeable gap between us, left me with very little hope, and I was at a loss as to where to go from there.

In the beginning, the heartache was so intense it was almost debilitating. It took every ounce of strength that I had to just keep breathing, to keep my heart beating, as if the very will to live had been drained from my soul.

I was overwhelmed with relief when the pain began to subside, allowing me to at least go through the motions of my daily routine. But, the emotions kept fading away, until all that was left was an empty void, a mere ghost of my former self, not really there but not really gone, an apparition fading in and out of reality. I didn't feel hurt or angry. I didn't feel worried or scared. I don't feel anything, but… numb.

Joe had taken it upon himself to check in with me every day, claiming he was, "in the neighborhood" or that he, "just needed some company." Most nights he showed up at my apartment with dinner in hand, trying his best to seem nonchalant and innocent of ulterior motives.

But, I knew better.

He would ramble on about his day and fill me in on the latest Burg gossip, seemingly unaware of my inattention. Though, his fleeting looks of concern weren't lost on me. That night he had all but carried me out of my apartment, convinced that a change of scenery would brighten my spirits.

He was right. A change of scenery would have brightened my spirits exponentially, but the scenery I wanted to look at was thousands of miles away, probably sporting a black cape while secretly ridding the world of injustice.

I just wanted him there, with me, and for things to go back to the way they were before. I'd all but given up hope for anything beyond that, but at that point, if nothing else, I just wanted my friend back.

The problem was I didn't know how I'd react when I finally saw him again. I wasn't sure if I wanted to slap him across his face or kiss it better. Stupid, Batman.

"Seriously, Steph, if you don't eat something I'm calling your mother." Joe's words washed over me like a bucket of ice water, and the world abruptly came into focus.

"You wouldn't …" I breathed, searching his face for any sign of weakness while simultaneously calling his bluff.

"Try me," he threatened, flipping open his cell phone, scrolling through to find the offending number. Apparently, my appetite had gone "in the wind," with Ranger, leaving my pants hanging on much thinner hips. I considered it an unexpected perk to having my heart broken. Joe, however, didn't seem to agree with my assessment.

He pressed a few buttons, put the phone to his ear and I panicked, "OKAY! Okay … Alright! I'll eat!" I shoved the pizza into my mouth, tearing off a huge, un-lady-like bite with my teeth. "There … happy now?" I asked thickly, grumbling through the food in my mouth.

"Very," he smirked, snapping his phone shut in triumph.

I sighed with relief and rolled my eyes at him, "That was a low blow, Morelli." I'd rather suffer through the ten plagues of Egypt than endure another round of my mother's incessant nagging. Festering boils and swarming locusts paled in comparison to the wrath of Helen Plum, and lately she had been on a war path, convinced that my current situation was the perfect opportunity for me to switch careers and marry an appropriate Burg husband (a.k.a, Joe Morelli).

The woman was insufferable… and persistent… and most likely Satan in the flesh.

Joe leaned back in his seat, twining his fingers behind his head as he kicked his feet up on the bench next to me, crossing his ankles. He tried to look innocent for a split second, before giving into the smug, taunting smile that was tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Maybe, "he shrugged cockily, "but it worked."

I froze mid-chew, my eyes narrowing into slits, and the bastard actually had the audacity to laugh at the scowl that crossed my face.

He was a dead man.

I scooped up the torn pieces of pizza crust from my plate and flung them at him, one at a time, pelting him in the chest and head.

"Hey! What the…?" he sputtered, his eyes widening in shock. He ducked for cover, leaning over in the booth, lying across the red, vinyl bench to escape the onslaught of flying food.

I leaned across the table, trying unsuccessfully to aim around the barrier between us. There was a reason I'd always been picked last in gym class.

"Jesus! You've lost your mind!" His muffled voice carried up from below the table, "Are you done yet?"

A slow wicked smile spread across my face as I hid the last piece of ammunition in my hand, just waiting to catch him off guard.

Come out; come out, wherever you are!

"You've got a lot of nerve, Morelli!" I growled, "Who threatens a grown woman with their mother? And, not just any mother… MY mother… You're damn lucky I didn't order the meatball sub!"

He mumbled indiscernibly under his breath, the words "insane, food fight and public" drifting up to my ears. I stifled a giggle as he silently raised a hand above the table, the white cloth napkin that had been lying in his lap now dangling from his fingertips, a universal sign of surrender and a request to cease enemy fire.

An honorable gesture, I'll give him that… but you know what they say about love and war… besides, I was half Italian, people who coined phrases like, "Sleeping with the fish", "Six feet under", and "Cement boots," didn't always fight fair.

This was one of those times.

After a few seconds of silence he peeked up from under the table at me, his wary, chocolate eyes peering tentatively over the ledge of the table, "Truce?"

I smiled innocently, flinging the last piece of crust at him, and hitting him squarely between the eyes.

Sucker!

I burst into laughter as he flinched in shock, the bread bouncing off of his head and landing in his beer with a splash. He straightened up in his seat, glowering at me in mock indignation, fighting the smile tugging at his lips as he wiped the bread crumbs from his forehead with his rejected peace offering.

"You think that's funny, huh, Cupcake?"

"Umm-hmm," I managed to choke out between bouts of laughter, my hands squeezing the growing ache in my sides as happy tears spilled down my cheeks. "Oh my God… you should have seen your face!"

I had almost forgotten what being happy felt like…

It was silly, and playful, and maybe even a little bit childish, but it was … us.

This was who we were together, how we'd always been around each other. Being with Joe was lighthearted and fun, it was comfortable and safe. We may have fought like a couple of petulant kids, but all was forgotten the next day. It was beer and pizza and hockey game. It was familiar, it was effortless, it was… easy.

And, no matter what, he could always make me laugh.

Joe shook his head and chuckled, his eyes crinkling in amusement as he watched me struggle for composure, "God, I've missed that sound."

He leaned forward onto his elbows, reaching his hand towards my face to wipe the pizza sauce from the corner of my lip with his thumb, "I've missed this... I've missed you." His eyes focused intently on my lips, the playful sparkle in his eyes melting into smoldering chocolate pools of want.

I knew that look, I'd been on the receiving end of it a thousand times before, and the intent behind it sobered my mood quickly.

"So much," he whispered as his thumb continued to brush tenderly across my skin, gliding slowly along the seam of my lips. He fingers trailed softly to the side of my jaw, his other hand coming up to cradle my face in his hands, holding me in place. He leaned further across the table, closing the distance between us, his lips parting in anticipation...

I had never felt more torn.

I really cared about Joe, he was safe, he was familiar, and… he loved me. I knew that it was a pivotal moment in my life and in our relationship. Things would never be the same if I rejected him at that moment.

But, it was time to make a choice. A choice that should have been made years before.

I turned my head at the last second, his lips brushing awkwardly across my cheek, missing their intended mark. He rested his forehead against side of my face with a deflated sigh, "Christ."

He plopped back into his seat dejectedly, raking a hand through his hair as a heavy silence fell between us. I looked at him, willing him to understand, but he wouldn't meet my gaze.

"Joe …" I finally choked, my heart aching at the sadness and embarrassment of rejection in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Joe, but … I …" I trailed off, at a complete loss for words. How do you tell someone that's in love with you that you don't feel the same way? I never wanted to hurt him, especially not like that. I was flooded with currents of sorrow, regret and guilt; drowning in a toxic mixture of emotion.

I shouldn't have strung him along for so long. It was selfish and I could see how much I had hurt him.

Joe held up his hands, shaking his head, quickly dismissing my words, "No … it's not your fault, Cupcake. I'm the one who should be apologizing. I know it's too soon, and I shouldn't have pressured you. You just need more time-"

"No, Joe," I cut him off mid-sentence, my voice weak and hoarse, but still filled with conviction. "Time isn't going to change the way I feel." My whole body wilted in despair. I was so tired of being alone, of craving love and affection, and yet, there I was ending a relationship with a good man, a sure thing, over someone who couldn't… or wouldn't love me in return.

Maybe I was a glutton for punishment… or maybe I was just the world's biggest fool.

He reached across the table, cradling my limp hands between his own strong ones, "Stephanie … listen to me, I know you … love … him," he grit out grudgingly, with the reluctance of a man confessing murder, "And, that in your mind you've built up this fantasy about who you think he is, and that someday he'll feel the same way about you."

I flinched at his words and the transparency of my "secret" desires. I looked down at our conjoined hands, unable to bear the look of pity in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Steph, but I just don't think he's capable… or willing to have that kind of relationship… of really loving someone. He'll never be able to give you what you need … what you deserve."

He paused, squeezing my hands, pulling my watery gaze up to meet his. "But I can. I WILL … I promise. I know I've made mistakes in the past, I know I've taken you for granted, I know that I've hurt you, but I'll prove to you that we can make this work … I love you, Cupcake. Just give me another chance and I'll show you that I can be everything you need."

I shook my head sadly, feeling the tears well up in my eyes. "I can't do this to you, Joe," I whispered, sweeping my hand in front of myself as evidence. "I won't ask you to live this way, to accept less than you deserve. As much as it scares me to be alone, I have to let you go … I love you too much to let you settle for less than you deserve."

He cleared his throat roughly, his voice raspy and low, "I … I'll take whatever you can give me. I just … I can't lose you again." He blushed crimson, clearly embarrassed by his pleading words. I could see what it had cost him to say that, his dominant, alpha male personality taking a brutal beating.

I knew then that the truth is often times much more cruel than a lie, but I realized that if I gave him any hope of sharing a future together, he would never move on… and, I couldn't string him along any longer.

"You have to understand that it'll never work out between us, Joe. Because in twenty years I'll still be in love with Ranger, regardless of how he feels about me … and, you'll hate me for it. You'll resent me for the time that you've wasted, and for the opportunities you've missed... You're too good of a man to settle for second best."

Understanding flashed in his teary, brown eyes and I watched as he finally accepted the harsh reality behind my words. His devastated expression reminded me of a heartbroken little boy, and for a moment I saw the handsome, rebellious eight year old Morelli that I had fallen in love with so long before.

My breathing hitched and my shoulders trembled with sobs. How did it come to this? "I'm so sorry," I whispered, wanting more than anything to take away the pain that I'd caused him, "I wish I could go back and change things; I would have never hurt you like this."

I know that I should have been embarrassed to break down like that in public, but I couldn't summon the energy to care, my sorrow vastly outweighing my shame.

He stood up, and I expected him to walk out of door, but instead he slid into the booth next to me, wrapping me in his arms. "Shhh, Cupcake. I'll… I'll always love you and I wouldn't change a moment of the time we've spent together. I guess … it just wasn't meant to be."

I clung to him, my tears soaking his shirt. "I love you too, Joe." And, I did. But, it wasn't the right kind of love, and it definitely wasn't enough.

We held onto each other, each lost in the past we had shared while a future that could have been faded away.

Letting him go was one of the hardest things that I've ever done, even knowing that it was the right thing to do, the finality still stung sharply.

He leaned back to look at my face, brushing the tears away from my cheeks with his thumbs, "You're the most incredible woman I've ever known … thank you, for loving me." He pressed the softest of kisses to my lips, the last kiss that we would ever share.

Kissing him goodbye was more poignant than words could have expressed.

But, in that moment I knew… it was time to let go.

Sooo… Thoughts? Comments? Review please : )

*Finally a little (much needed) closure for those two. And, judging by the reviews, I'm thinking there is going to be a few of you sighing with relief! Now, I don't know about you, but I'm ready for our favorite Man in Black to make an appearance… anyone else? ;)

BTW- Sorry for the additional update messages. Somehow, fanfic deleted my other chapters as this one was posted, and I had to correct it. I apologize for that :(