I used to hate Sundays.

Just the idea of getting ready for another dreadful week in a boring job made me curse under my breath. Working in an office, like I did for years, with never ending paperwork, faking smiles at everyone who greeted me, was tiresome. The idea of being in a cubicle and talking to strangers drained me, even when I had nothing to do.

That was years ago. When I thought I lived the dream life with a man who adored me and I had plans to build the family life most people craved. Back in the day, when looking sideways at the life others were living, and, and I dreamed of having the same amount of happiness. When I couldn't see how suffocated I was until my who world crumbled.

Now, four years later, there's no husband in sight. The plan of creating a family, have babies and built the perfect home, had vanished along with Matthew. Not that I'm complaining, for this should have happened the minute I decided it was a good choice to take him back after he cheated.

Back to 'why Robin Ellacott now loved Sundays?'

Sundays meant getting ready for an exciting week of tracing criminals, solving crimes, planning surveillance in the wee hours of the morning. Eating take out, for the tenth time, while discussing how sucky cheating man turns out to be, without actually mentioning Matthew this time, and how surprised we might be at the outcome of a case.

That was just a small highlight of the day. What really mattered was seeing him again. Even if it were for a brief minute, for a small fraction of a second, as he walked towards his office, phone in hand and a frown adorning his handsome face. It was enough for me to help me through the day. It didn't matter if there was no case involved, if there was nothing to be done. Just knowing he was a door away was all that I needed.

Cormoran would, most likely, asked me how my weekend was. And I would, most likely, lie to him and tell him it was interesting. Though the truth was, I missed him. I missed him so much my heart ached.

I walk the last remaining steps to Denmark Street, two cups of coffee in my hand (only two because I knew Pat would be late). The door remained locked, meaning Cormoran would still be upstairs, lying in his bed, sleeping peacefully. I didn't have the heart to knock on his door to tell him he's late, only half an hour late but still. He had a rough couple of weeks, with a client who yelled at him on the phone and later on his office blaming him for his marriage being over, which was far from the truth but Cormoran was too much of a gentleman to tell him who his wife really was.

If he wanted to sleep for a couple of minutes more, I wasn't about to disturb him. No matter how much the lack of his presence bothered me.

Half an hour later, the front door opened and Cormoran waltzed in, staring at his phone with a frown on his forehead. He didn't lift his head, which gave me the opportunity to look. Cormoran looked even more handsome that I'd seen him before; his hair wet from the shower, his grey sweater I had learned to adore so much, and his dark jeans that fit him perfectly. He hadn't noticed my presence, though I couldn't blame him since he was submerged in whatever information he had recently found.

"Good morning, Pat" Cormoran speaks, finally. I smile a bit at how greeting Pat was now a force of habit and how used to seeing her around him was. When he gets no answer, he lifts his head. A wide broad smile forms on his lips when he sees me staring. Hopefully, he wouldn't notice the soft heat on my cheeks at the way he looks at me. "oh, good morning. Sorry, I didn't know you were here—"

I'm going to pretend I don't feel offended at his lack of acknowledgment of my presence, but I figure my expression of complete disappointment says it all. "Pat is not here. She mentioned being late for a doctor's appointment. Be back by noon."

"It's just you and me, then?" Cormoran asks. I nod a reply and focus back on the screen before me. The awkward silence was only the consequence of his words, because inside of me I wanted to scream, but I knew if I did I would be level as mental. He might have sensed the awkwardness for the next second as he walks towards my desk. His fingers taps softly on my hand to call my attention, which he had already got the second he moved from the door. The mere touch of his fingertips feels like electricity through my body. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

I blink a couple of times and watch at the soft expression on his face. Suddenly, I shake my head and look sideways at the coffee that had probably gone cold, resting on top of the mess of papers on my desk. "I bought you coffee and biscuits. I figured you might need a shot of caffeine to start the day."

He smiles. That tender, broad smile that on rare occasion surfaces. The one that has me weak on the knees, the one that makes my heart feel like a hammer on my ears. He reaches out for the disposable cup and his fingers brush mine ever so slightly but it was enough for me to sigh, unintentionally, of course. "Thank you. You've read my mind."

"No problem," I whisper, because my voice suddenly fails me and the words come out so quietly that I can barely make them out.

"How was your weekend?" Cormoran speaks up, attempting to end the deadly quiet that seems to have settled between us.

I knew from the beginning of the day the question would rise. It was a simple, yet very complicated, inquiry. I could lie, of course, saying I had the greatest days ever, with so many things done and movies watched, conversation being held. Just the usual. When in reality it was the longest two days ever. I could tell him I counted the days until Monday just because he would be around. I could tell him there wasn't a single movie, a single song, a single conversation that didn't remind me of him. That Max had asked me when I was going to get my things together, be brave and tell him how much he meant to me, how my palms sweated and how my heart hadn't been beating normally since he had laid his eyes on me. I could, for my sake, be honest. But honesty meant exposing the feelings I have so securely saved in my heart. Honesty meant speaking a truth I had a hard time dealing with myself. Honesty meant telling Cormoran Strike 'my weekend sucked because you were not around'

So no. I couldn't. A lie was the only way this time. "It was good. How about yours?"

Cormoran pondered. I watch him frown as he sipped his coffee, hesitating an answer for whatever reason and for a second I felt hopeful that he might have missed me as much as I did "Boring, to be quite honest with you. There was something missing—"

I frown at his reply. "Something like what?"

Cormoran looks at me the way he hadn't done before. His eyes had a sparkle I hadn't seen in years, the one I had when I met Matthew for the first time, when I thought what we had was special and absolutely perfect. The one Max tells me I have whenever I mention Cormoran's name. Could it be—?

"You—" Cormoran speaks boldly. And I have to shake my head to make sure I was listening correctly, that this wasn't part of that last steamy dream I had when he declared his profound love for me and we ended up making out on the couch and I had woken up wet, shaking and enable to look at him in the face the next day. "You were the thing missing from my day. If I'm honest with myself—and with you."

I swallow hard, confusion and a strange hint of excitement clouding my thoughts for a second. "I—I don't know what to say—"

Cormoran nods and looks down at the floor, somewhat defeated. "You don't have to say anything. I just thought—honesty is the best policy and I've been counting the hours and the minutes to tell you this. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

He turns around and marches towards his office, a slow pace on his walk and I feel my heart crushing inside my chest. This is absolutely not the way I wanted things to go. Before he reaches the door to his office, I get up from my seat in such a rush I knocked the last remaining coffee on the floor and I shrug. I can clean everything later. There's a most important matter to deal with.

"I lied," I suddenly yell. The phrase is enough to call his attention, and he turns around slowly, waiting for me to continue. "I lied when I said my weekend was good. It sucked. I kept thinking about—you. I kept wondering what you were doing and feeling silly for not being bold enough to call you, to hear your voice. So—my weekend sucked because I missed you, a lot."

Cormoran smiles again and walks the remaining steps towards me, not in a rush because there was nothing that could stop us anymore. His hands reach mine, holding one with his while the other went straight to my cheek. I lean in, feeling the warmth of his touch for the first time, and I don't know if I should cry or laugh since my emotions are out of control. His face is inches away from mine, his eyes locked on my lips and mine on his. The moment is now, there's no take it back, there's absolutely no regret in either of us.

My heart beats faster inside my chest, my knees tremble as his lips barely touch mine in a feathery like kiss. He pulls away enough to look at my blushed cheeks and my watery eyes, but I smile contently, showing the tears that were threating to fall were happy tears and sees it as a confirmation that this should happen. We've been waiting for too long.

He moves forward again, and the anticipation makes my head spin. Cormoran intensified our kiss, pressing his lips against mine and overflowing with the passion that had been inside our hearts for too long. He moans, or probably I do. I can't really tell, for my whole word has stopped functioning properly and there's no one else but Cormoran and me.

I pull away when the lack of air becomes a problem, though Cormoran's hands were still on me, this time on my waist, pulling me insanely closer to him, not waiting to let go. "That was—that was."

"Not suited for the office environment."

We both turn around, blushing and breathing heavily at Pat, who had walked into the office unnoticed and quietly. There was a time I could be absolutely ashamed of any display of affection, like it had happened once when Matt had tried to kiss me in front of mom and I instantly move away, receiving a confused look from my ex-husband's. Now, right this moment, there was no shameful feeling or regret for kissing my former boss, current business partner in front of Pat because we've waited for too long and there was no time to be wasted.

"Hello, Pat. We didn't hear you come in," Cormoran says grinning at Pat and reaching for my hand at the same time. I feel butterflies in my stomach.

"Of course you didn't. You were both quite busy," Pat said, raising her eyebrows and walking towards her desk. We look at each other silly, like two teenagers who had been suddenly caught by their mother and I couldn't help but giggle. "Can't say I'm in shock, though. It took both of you long enough."

Cormoran nods and squeezes my hand. It was probably his way of apologizing for not being honest with each other before, but there was no one to blame other than the fear of a heartbreak. "Thanks for you input, Pat. Weren't you supposed to get here by noon?"

Pat narrows her eyes at him. "I could leave if you wish, give you more time to-"

I shake my head. "No, don't worry about it. We'll have more time, won't we, Cormoran?"

He nods and winks at me. "All the time in the world,"

Cormoran walks toward his office and I watch him with my heart full of love and joy I hadn't felt in so long, but I'm completely ready to enjoy.

"What a fantastic way to start the week, is it not?" I ask Pat as I sit back on my desk, my fingers typing gracefully across the keyboard. She rolls her eyes at me, something I hadn't seen in her before, but still makes me laugh.

"If you say so," Pat replies.