[ Part Eight ]
Like a secret agent on a particularly precarious mission, Andy Flynn crept along the wall of the blissfully empty corridor towards his destination. Distant voices were filtering through the closed doors and somewhere to his right, someone was attacking a computer keyboard with more force than he had previously thought humanly possible. He had no desire to run into anyone else than whom he had come here for as this was the one place where he actually minded the fact that his reputation always preceded him. He gave a relieved sigh when he finally reached the last door to the left that bore a sign announcing that he was about to enter Sergeant Sharon Raydor's office. Upon his knock, she called him in right away. Quickly closing the door behind him, he feigned breathlessness but could hardly contain his grin when he addressed her: "Thank god! None of them saw me."
Sharon narrowed her eyes playfully and shook her head, reclining in her desk chair. "Thank god indeed. I don't want any rumors flying around about me fraternizing with the LAPD's resident troublemaker."
"Troublemaker?" Andy raised both eyebrows. "I've been the epitome of docility for the past few months, Sergeant."
He approached Sharon and reached down to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear while he softly caressed her cheek. Smiling tentatively, she placed her hand on his and turned her head to kiss the side of his palm.
"That must have been my good influence," she smirked and he leaned down to brush his lips against hers. They came apart relatively quickly for fear of being disturbed by someone but none of them actually pulled back to bring some distance between them. Andy took Sharon's hand and rubbed her knuckles gently while he panned the room. LAPD offices weren't especially cheerful with their gray linoleum floors and whitewashed walls, but somehow Sharon had managed to make herself comfortable without bringing her private life into the mix. On top of her desk sat a bouquet of white tulips in a vase and by the window stood a tall potted plant while the walls were adorned with art prints in fiery colors. Andy was little surprised that the office was well-organized and spotless despite the considerable amount of files that were stacked neatly in a high set of shelves. Over her shoulder, he caught the only personal item in the room: A framed photograph of her family. It was half-hidden behind her computer and could therefore only be seen if one was behind the desk, so curious visitors couldn't even catch a glimpse of it. The silver frame was simple and tasteful but Andy didn't pay much attention to it as the picture's motif was what commanded his full attention. There was Sharon with a younger, maybe two-year old Tommy in her arms, leaning into an attractive, broad-shouldered man with a charming smile who had wrapped his arm securely around her. They were standing in a garden of some sort and the sunlight lit up Sharon's hair, giving it a reddish glow that emphasized the happiness in her face. Sharon caught where he was looking and gave him one of the pained closed-mouth smiles that were so typical of her. He wondered why she kept the picture around. Was it pure habit? Did she do it to torture herself? Or did she have it in order to be able to pretend that everything was fine? Either way, he couldn't help but stare at the jovial guy in the picture and the woman by his side who lacked all of the darkness and pain that always seemed to surround the one who was standing right next to him. He forced himself to take his eyes off the picture and smiled down at Sharon before he raised his hand with the forgotten bag of chocolate muffins.
"I thought maybe the two of you would care for some chocolate," he said. "You hardly ate anything at lunch."
She accepted the food and squeezed his hand that was still holding hers. "Thank you, Andy." There was no explanation as to why she'd been picking her salad so aimlessly just two hours ago and Andy knew that it was better not to ask. Sharon usually withdrew herself if pressured and he didn't want that. Still on the edge of her impossibly tidy desk, Andy studied her. Something was different about her but he couldn't quite put a finger on it. Somewhere along the way, he had gotten used to her being cautious and sad, but today she seemed downright upset, her inner turmoil bubbling just under the surface. He knew by now that pushing her wouldn't bring about the desired results, so he could only hope that she would come around herself eventually.
"You're staring, Andy Flynn." She looked down at her chest. "Am I showing too much cleavage again?"
He snorted. "Hardly, Sharon. Besides, you could never show too much cleavage for my liking."
She rolled her eyes and laughed, her hand still on the modestly undone top button of her striped blouse. He decided that if she didn't want to talk about what was bothering her, he might as well cheer her up a little.
"But I might have a bit of a problem with that leg," he said, eliciting a shriek from her when he reached down and placed his cool hand on top of her exposed thigh. The navy suit she was wearing was perfectly professional yet gave enough emphasis to her physical assets to turn heads. Maybe it was because he was so madly in love with her, but he couldn't get over how sexy she looked even with her ever-growing belly. If she hadn't been pregnant, he might have locked the door and tried to seduce her. Since they'd first slept together three weeks ago, they had only repeated it once when Tommy had been at Sharon's friend Alexa's house. The memory of that lavish afternoon still sometimes threatened to distract him to the point of just staring into space and if he was quite truthful, it was the reason why he had decided to drop by the bakery across the street and then pay a visit to the floor that was occupied by FID, jokingly referred to as "purgatory" among the LAPD.
Sharon rose to her feet and he was both surprised and elated to see the now familiar expression of arousal in her eyes when she closed what little distance remained between them and rested her outstretched arms on his shoulders, lightly clasping her hands together behind his head.
"Stop this, will you?" she murmured against his lips. "I am currently chained to this desk and I have way too much energy."
"It didn't look that way when you had me fix dinner for you and the kid while you reclined on the couch, lazy."
"Ummm," Sharon made, her hum turning into a chuckle when his arms came up around her and pulled her into him.
"Have dinner with me tonight," he said, his lips following the curve of her cheekbone. "Let's go somewhere romantic."
He hadn't expected her to stiffen in his arms and so he let go of her almost immediately when he found her whole body going rigid. She stepped back and folded her hands over her stomach, giving him the fleeting impression that she was somehow trying to draw his attention to it.
"I can't," she said quietly. "I have an appointment."
Sensing that the mysterious prior engagement might be what caused the change in her, Andy narrowed his eyes and gently closed his fingers around her elbow.
"Is everything okay?"
"Oh, yes. Of course. It's all fine." Her smile was uncharacteristically shy and he knew that she was lying. Before he could ask, she gestured towards the door. "Look, I'm really sorry, but I have a lot of paperwork to do and-"
"Of course." Andy felt like a shunned dog that had been left outside in the rain. He had almost reached the door when she called him back.
"Andy." He turned around and for a moment she looked as if she was going to give her secret away but then her face closed down again. "Would you like to drop by this weekend? Saturday, maybe?"
"Alright. Like this. Careful or you'll hurt yourself." Andy closed his hand around Tommy's small one in order to apply some pressure while they turned the screwdriver together. The little boy's face was tight with concentration and his large green eyes were narrowed at the bolt. When it finally clicked into place, Andy gently withdrew and gave a thumbs-up. "Pretty good work, little man." Tommy's eyes were shining with excitement and pride when he turned towards his mother who was folding baby clothes and sorting them into the dresser by the window, looking a little absent-minded.
"Mommy! I helped Andy set up the bed!"
She turned towards her son and gave him a wide, proud smile. "You did! I'm so glad you're here to help." She slid the last drawer shut and walked towards them, running her hand through Tommy's hair. "How is the crib coming along, anyway?" She looked at the pile of parts and gave Andy a little smirk that inevitably made him want to kiss her. However, she had made it very clear that although he was welcome to spend time with her and Tommy as often as he wanted to, open displays of affection around her child were completely off-limits. He could see where she was coming from, but that didn't stop him from longing to touch her. Sharon was wearing leggings today, showcasing her still perfectly slim legs, and a very loose-cut white t-shirt along with a warm bottle-green cardigan that she had wrapped around herself. Although she was eight months pregnant by now, she still seemed petite and her stomach was round and protruding but not huge. She caught Andy's gaze and bit her bottom lip slightly, her front teeth grazing it with what Andy had learned to identify as longing.
She turned away from him and placed her hand on top of Tommy's sandy hair. "Honey, since you've done such great work, you can go and get the chocolate bar in the drawer next to the fridge as a reward," she told him and the boy bolted out out the room with an excited shriek. "Be careful on the stairs!" she yelled after him, but he didn't even seem to hear her. Grateful for the distraction and well-aware of the limited amount of time at their disposal, Andy encircled her in his arms and kissed her, reveling in the sweet taste of her lips and the satisfied little hums she gave. He drew back and looked into her eyes, grinning.
"That was smart, Sharon."
She pouted. "No it wasn't. I just sacrificed my last chocolate bar for a kiss that lasted only a few seconds." She giggled into his mouth when he kissed her again in response.
"I'll buy you a ton of chocolate bars," he promised, rubbing the hardened muscles of her back with his knuckles to give her some relief. She leaned into the touch and closed her eyes, pressing her cheek to his chest while she moaned her appreciation. "I'll give you a massage later," he promised. "Your back is impossibly tense, girl." She grimaced and nodded, stepping away from him as they heard footsteps approaching on the stairs. There was definitely an advantage to the fact that Tommy had the grace of an elephant when it came to climbing stairs. She took a hurried, somewhat awkward step towards the dresser, causing him to smile goofily as he had only recently discovered how unintentionally funny she could be when she was flustered. It seemed that he had discovered a new facet of her every day since she had opened up to him and he found himself falling even more deeply for the woman that was slowly emerging from behind the put-together facade.
Tommy came back into the room, chocolate bar already half-unwrapped. The longing look in Sharon's eyes was unmistakable and Andy turned around to face the crib in order to hide his amusement from her.
"Can I have a bite, baby?" he heard her ask softly. "Just a small one."
Tommy grudgingly handed over the candy and watched his mother closely as she took a small bite and then pretended to take another, bigger one. He reacted with a scream full of agitation and disappointment that made Sharon almost choke on her mouthful of chocolate. She swallowed and handed the bar back with a calming growl of "Just kidding!" Tommy looked sheepish for a moment and took a step away from his mother, probably to protect the rest of his chocolate bar.
"Sorry," he murmured, eyes darting around the room.
"Just pulling your leg," she responded, obviously sorry herself for making fun of him. The child squealed when she pulled him towards her and sat down in the comfortable armchair in the corner, hoisting him gently up on to her knees. It took some adjustment for him to fit into what was left of her lap but soon he was resting against her chest, eating his chocolate while staring into space absent-mindedly. After a while he looked up at her, the chocolate gone and the wrapping paper vanished inside his fist.
"Mommy, what is my sister's name?" he asked her. Sharon smiled down at him and kissed the top of his head.
"She doesn't have one yet." Her voice sounded even but Andy sensed that she was struggling with something. Maybe it was the fact that her husband wasn't around to choose the name with her. It almost broke his heart to see tears in her eyes when he turned back towards the two of them.
"Daddy says he has an idea," Tommy beamed. "He told me yesterday when we went to the park but he didn't say what it was."
The shock went through Andy's body like a jolt of electricity and suddenly his hand was trembling, the screwdriver soon rolling at his feet. He turned around slowly to face Sharon who was looking at him over the top of Tommy's head, her eyes dry and her expression completely neutral. His heart was still drumming against his ribs in shock, but he knew that soon it would be fueled by anger. Her voice was soft and low when she addressed Tommy again, asking him to go and brush his teeth. Reluctantly, the little boy slid off his mother's lap and made for the door. The moment of silence between them seemed to stretch forever and ended only when they heard the bathroom door close in the distance.
"When were you planning on telling me that he's back?" Andy asked stiffly. Suddenly the air seemed stuffy and the room hot and oppressive around him. Sharon rose to level with him and although she was struggling, he didn't reach out a hand to help her up.
"Tonight," she replied evenly, her voice suddenly flat and hard. She was preparing for the full onslaught of his anger which was only fueled by the fact that she already knew him well enough to know his breaking point.
"That's why you didn't have time to meet me for dinner the other night," he said and although he was trying to sound reasonable, his voice didn't obey him, the accusatory tone unmistakable. Sharon stood in front of him, shoulders back, chin raised and gaze hard. She wasn't about to let him trample all over her, that much was obvious from her posture and Andy really wanted to stay calm. What had he been expecting? That Jack would just vanish and stay away forever? Sharon was close to her due date and even a long term therapy didn't take forever. His return had always been a matter of time and he, Andy, had once again managed to ban that thought from his conscious, to forget the fact that everything between them was, to some extent, destined to be temporary. His chest seemed to tighten at the thought of losing her to her husband, taking up the space that his thundering heart needed so badly. "So you are taking him back?" He sounded like a sullen child, but he couldn't help it. He felt so helpless in his rage that he felt ready to cry.
"Jack is sober," Sharon said quietly. "He borrowed some money from his parents to be able to set up his own practice."
"That doesn't answer my question," Andy snapped. If she was taken aback by the aggressive tone, she didn't show it. Sharon Raydor was once again like a brick wall, hard and concrete and impenetrable.
"He is trying to make this work," she said. The troubled look in her eyes made his heart sink. Although he was the one who was who had been sleeping in her bed for the past few months, Jack Raydor still owned her heart, or at least a large part of it. Was it possible for Sharon to love two men at the same time? When it came to her religious beliefs, definitely not. But what about her subconscious? The part of her she couldn't control? Did she love him, Andy? Or had she just needed someone who gave her a little comfort until her husband returned? Andy was a hothead and had always been. He had never been good at controlling his emotions, especially negative ones, and the anger that was suddenly welling up inside him was more forceful than anything he had felt before. It was unfair. Jack had betrayed her and hurt her so damn much while Andy had put his own needs second and had done absolutely everything he could to make life easier for Sharon. Why couldn't she love him? He wasn't just angry with her, he knew deep down, but also with his streak of bad luck. Why did he have to fall in love with a married, pregnant woman? Why couldn't he ever be lucky in love for a change?
"If you just needed a warm body next to you in bed, you could at least be honest about it. No need to let me down easy." It was out before he even knew he had decided to say it but, curiously, the hurt expression on her face only made him more angry. What right did she have to look hurt? He was the one who was trying not to love her too much, who had to stay away from alcohol when it was the only thing he could think of that might have drowned out the thought of her, if only for a few hours.
"That's not what it was," she replied, her voice hard and neutral and he felt her slipping away from him. She was already using the past tense. Andy knew that he had to apologize in order not to drive her even further away, but at the same time he was lost in the raging fire of his own anger. He hadn't been a good husband either, but he was trying so hard not too stress her, not too put any pressure on her that it was threatening to break him. He looked at the long beautiful hair framing her face, the deep green eyes, her full lips. In that very moment he felt so heated towards her that he might as well have hated her.
"So this is it," he spat, some part of him scandalized by the viciousness of his tone. "You're breaking things off with me. Just like that."
Andy didn't understand what had made him snap right now, without even hearing her side of the story, but he knew with sudden clarity that he had been repressing the negativity that was associated with his love for her for a while now. Suddenly he began to feel wrath at himself rather than anyone else. Joel had made it so clear that Andy's problem was the fact that he refused to acknowledge certain realities. He was working so hard to avoid those patterns, but now he had fallen into the very same trap once again. He was so angry, but at the same time fear was beginning to rise in his throat like bitter bile. The reason why he pushed his doubts away, why he never dared to voice them was that he was scared that she would come to her senses if he demanded anything from her, that she would realize that being with him was a mistake and that she would end it there and then. Some frantic, idiotic part of him had decided that she needed to be pushed away before she could push him away and he was unable to stop himself.
"Andy-"
"For god's sake, I should have listened to the others. You really are the ice queen!" Although he knew that he was being unfair in bringing her lack of popularity into this, it felt good to see her face fall and for a moment he felt elated, his senses tingling with the adrenaline that accompanied his lashing out at her. Curiously, letting go made him feel in control and in that moment, it felt as if he was back in charge of his life for the first time since he'd made her acquaintance.
"Maybe you should go," she suggested tonelessly. Her defenses were back up and right in front of him, she turned back into Sergeant Raydor who didn't let anyone see her pain. Panic was welling up inside him with the realization that this was the end, that the trust between them was as fragile as they came. Andy suddenly felt drained of all energy and the lack of anger made his head spin with disorienting dizziness. The taste of her lips was the only thing preferable to that of whiskey and now that he was losing that, his desire for alcohol returned with a resonating pang. She turned away from him and stood by the window, arms folded and back turned and he knew it was time to go.
"Don't do this, Sharon," he said weakly, but she didn't even move. His heart as heavy as cement, he turned towards the door where Tommy had appeared with a frightened expression.
"Why were you yelling at Mommy?" he asked in a little voice, looking impossibly small. Sharon was next to Andy before he even knew she'd moved and bent down, wrapping her arms tightly around her son. He tried to commit her soft expression to memory, aware of the fact that he would not see it for a while, if he would ever see it again.
"It's okay, honey," she cooed. "Everything's alright. Let's go and read your bedtime story." Her voice cracked, but only for the last syllable. "Andy can see himself out." And without looking at him again, she led her child towards the bedroom, leaving Andy numb and devastated.
Andy was tired, but at least he wasn't hungover and that was the only thing that kept him standing nowadays. Despite the pain his fallout with Sharon had inflicted upon him, he had retained control over himself, had managed to not drown his sorrows in the nearest bottle. Instead he'd called up Joel and had poured his heart out to him and the bottle of whiskey he had bought despite his better judgment down the kitchen sink. As he had watched the golden liquid swirl down the drain, he had vowed that he would not fall off the wagon again this time. He had been staring down his phone for a week every night before he had finally realized that she wouldn't call. So for now it was back to the cafeteria on lunch breaks and only the flickering of his old television to keep him company in the evenings. Andy could have called her, but a small but very adamant part of him knew that maybe, just maybe, this was for the better. It didn't matter how much he loved her, she wouldn't be able to love him back. Not now, not after all of his accusations. So Andy went about his days, both a little numb, but painfully alert at the same time. This time he wouldn't chicken out of it all, wouldn't get drunk to forget. He would hold his head up high and get through this like he knew he had to.
But even three months later, the nights were still the worst, spent chasing shadows and endlessly reliving his confrontation with Sharon. Had his anger been justified? Had he really just saved himself before she could crush him? Or had he acted rashly, had she probably been about to say something completely different? Had she secretly hoped that he would convince her to split from Jack for good? Had he blown his chance? Sometimes he was on the edge of calling her, but then he remembered that some things couldn't be forced or he was too scared that she would not hear him out. Hear him out saying what, he then thought. Would he apologize? Could he trust himself? Would he yell at her? When the doorbell rang and interrupted his gloomy musings, he considered not getting up to answer the door for a moment. When he did, however, he was glad that he had.
Had his life been a movie, Sharon Raydor would have been soaked, clothes clinging to her body, hair a wet, tangled mess flowing over her shoulders. He would have pulled her out of the pouring rain and into his arms, possibly whispering affirmations of his love into her ear. But their romance didn't have a script. It was raw and painful and reality always got in the way, so the night was clear and quiet and lacked all the drama that his mind had created for this moment, should it ever arrive. The fact that it had, however, was cause enough for his heart to jump and his knees to weaken. The woman on his doorstep looked different from the one he had gotten to know and somewhere deep inside registered the fact that her cheekbones were more prominent when she wasn't pregnant and her frame was lither, her curves less pronounced. She was wearing the same dark blue trenchcoat that she'd been wearing when he'd first met her, but her glasses were gone and so was the barrier he'd seen in her eyes so often. In fact, the rawness of her emotions both astounded and frightened him.
"Sharon." He said just that one word, confusion and hurt clogging up his brain, rendering him unable to form a coherent sentence.
"Can I come in?" she asked, her voice much deeper than he remembered and he stepped aside to let her enter, taking in the different way she walked when she passed him. It suddenly struck him that she had never been to his house before and he was surprised that she even knew where he lived. It had been one of the little oddities of their relationship that had gone completely unchallenged on his part. He steered her into the living-room and saw her eyes quickly appraise the mess on the coffee table that contained a half empty container of cranberry juice but no liquor bottles. Without being asked to, she sat down on the couch, her hands on her thighs, her back oddly straight, evoking images of a school girl in the headmaster's office. He lowered himself into the armchair opposite the couch, his hands trembling and his throat dry. When she unbuttoned her coat he noticed for the first time that she had lost more weight than just what was to be expected two months after giving birth. She looked positively frail in her simple black pencil skirt and blouse. Had she just returned from work? Why would she come to him now of all times? He was about to ask her all those things when she spoke.
"Andy, I didn't want you to hear it in the grapevine," she began, her voice hollow and her eyes suddenly awash with grief. "Andy, it's Steven. He was on duty today and got shot in a standoff. The bullet hit him in the head. There was nothing they could do."
The news hit Andy like a ton of bricks. His partner was dead; killed. And there was Sharon, looking harassed and tired, personally here to give him the bad news. Despite himself, he felt overwhelming gratitude towards her for being so considerate.
"I'm so sorry," she said in a shaky voice. "I understand you were somewhat close."
Not best friends, but good acquaintances, Andy thought. He liked Steven as a friendly, laid-back person who didn't judge people and had been more than ready to forgive him for his many alcohol-related misgivings. Maybe, now that he was sober, they could have become friends. But the other man had been taken away and would never return. A heavy weight seemed to settle on Andy's chest as the realization began to sink in and he leaned his head back against the back of the chair, suddenly feeling drained. To his surprise, Sharon got up and walked towards him, perching on the arm of the chair and sliding one arm around his shoulders, fingers quickly entangled in his hair. He felt her lips against his temple as she cradled his head against hers.
"I'm so sorry," she repeated, her own voice quivering now. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her warm, soft lips against his skin and her gentle fingers against his scalp. He wanted to pull her close and tell her that he loved her and that he was sorry, but he didn't dare open his mouth because he was too afraid that words would end this blissful moment. Instead he reached out and put his arm around her waist that was unfamiliar in its smallness. He even missed the roundness of her stomach and the kicking of her baby.
"How is the little one?" he finally asked, surprised at the soft quality of his voice. "Did everything go alright?"
She pulled back just enough to be able to look at him and the expression of grief and loss on her face was lightened up by motherly pride. "She is wonderful, Andy, and everything went well."
There was a moment of silence until he spoke again, his voice gruff. "Thank you for coming here personally. I appreciate it."
She gave him a sad smile and withdrew her hand, making him wince with the loss of physical contact. "I should have come here a lot earlier," she said softly. "I am so unhappy with the way things ended between us, I can't even eat."
"I shouldn't have yelled at you like that," Andy conceded. "It was wrong."
She shook her head. "You were right to be angry. I should have told you about Jack's return that day at my office. I was just... overwhelmed. I just wanted to stay in my comfortable little illusion."
Although Andy dreaded the answer, he knew he needed to ask the question. Maybe he would be able to sleep again after he faced reality. Maybe he wouldn't spend each and every night tossing and turning and wondering how she was.
"Has he moved back in?"
During the beat of silence that followed, he felt his insides turn to jelly. He was about to ask her not to answer when she finally did.
"He has. He was there for when Elizabeth was born and he adores her." Her voice sounded matter-of-fact, her face was straight and didn't show how she was feeling about it. Andy imagined the guy from the photo in her small bedroom, imagined him in the spot that Andy had been taking up for the past few months, wrapped in Sharon's sheets, his arms around his wife. For a moment he felt as if he was about to be sick. There were just too many images in his mind. Steven, going down and falling on to the concrete, dead. Blood pooling around him. Jack Raydor, holding Sharon's hand while she screamed out in pain. The two of them kissing tearfully, a small infant in Sharon's arms. And memories. Of Sharon snuggling into his side on her sofa. Of their talk at the restaurant, feeling her daughter kick.
"How are you even able to trust him after everything that's happened?" He sounded accusatory, but he didn't really care.
"I don't," she said softly. "We have a long way ahead of us yet."
"So all he has to do is return with his tail between his legs and promise you to be better?" Andy asked, desperately trying to keep his temper under control this time but already on the road to failure again. The broken look in Sharon's eyes gave him pause and he grabbed her hand and squeezed it without thinking about it.
"Of course not, Andy, but he is my children's father and they need him." Although she was on the verge of tears, he could tell that she believed in what she was saying and that nothing he could say would make her reconsider her choice. A deep, painful feeling of longing began to pool in the pit of his stomach.
"The son whose financial security he threatened by piling up debts? The daughter he wanted to have aborted?"
He was sorry to see tears brimming in her eyes now and his body language continued to tell the opposite of what his mouth did. Accusations were accompanied by comforting gestures and hostility was washed away by the gentleness with which he rubbed his thumb over her cold knuckles.
"I love you, Sharon," he almost pleaded. "I promise I would be a good stepfather to your children. I just want to make you happy. You and your kids both." He knew that he sounded corny but he meant every word he said and he felt it necessary to say those words to make Sharon realize how much she meant to him.
"I have to apologize to you, Andy. I've made a mistake," she said. "I shouldn't have kissed you, I shouldn't have slept with you. I made a vow and I should have kept it." Dread rose inside Andy. Why did she have to bring up religion now? He wasn't an atheist but he couldn't believe that god would frown upon someone ending a marriage that had brought about nothing but hurt and unhappiness in favor of another relationship. But Sharon wouldn't have it. He could tell how guilty she felt and he wished that he could somehow take that guilt away from her. "I should have never let you stay when you came around the second time." Her voice was so quiet now that he had trouble understanding her. "When you stood on my doorstep with your pastries all sheepishly..." She gave a short laugh that expressed all of her endearment at the memory. "I should have sent you away because I just wanted to kiss you there and then."
Andy's heart began to beat faster and he squeezed her hand. "Really? I didn't think you liked me. I certainly didn't think you were interested in me."
She smiled and cupped his cheek as he looked up at her towering over her on the armrest. "It was just a flash of something that didn't become real until later on when we'd already become friends."
"But you can't be with me," he said in a hollow voice.
"No, I can't," she sounded sad but determined. "I wasn't sure of what was the right thing to do when we last saw each other, but I am now. I have a husband who is doing everything in his power to make our marriage work and I have his two children. I can't just run off because I have fallen in love with-"
She trailed off as their eyes met and the realization that she had just told him that she loved him but would never be able to act upon it sank in, making Andy feel as if he was in the water, being pulled under by the current.
"Sharon, you're making the wrong choice." He noticed that he was beginning to sound increasingly desperate, but he didn't care. Somehow he needed to make Sharon realize that she was sacrificing her own happiness in order to do what she clearly believed to be the right thing.
"I am so sorry, Andy. I should have never given in to the temptation. I should not have relied on you, I shouldn't have allowed myself to fall for you. It was a big mistake and you are more than right in hating me for it. I led you on and I used you." She bit her lip to hold back tears but failed and he watched them run down her face. She tried to disentangle her fingers from where she'd interwoven them with his, but he didn't let go.
"Sharon, you can't do this. You have a right to be happy." He pulled her closer and began to kiss her tears away, feeling her tremble in his arms.
"I have to." She squeezed his hand and pressed his lips to his, not opening her mouth. It was a chaste kiss between friends, a kiss goodbye and it tasted salty with tears of regret. With sudden clarity, he knew that he had lost the fight. Back when there had been a chance to make her see that she would be better off with him, he had blown it by yelling at her. The sudden clarity with which he saw what had happened struck him as surreal. She wouldn't have kissed him that day if she had already resolved that she would take Jack back. It was partly his fault that she had chosen her husband because he had missed the opportunity to show her how much she meant to him. Sharon would not be persuaded to change her mind now and all he could do was to stretch out this moment, to revel in the fact that she actually did love him back and to hold on to her as long as he possibly could. He caressed her lips with his without engaging her in a deeper kiss and ran his hands up and down her back in a soothing motion. When they came apart, he was close to tears as well.
"I am letting you go because I respect you and your decisions," he told her quietly. "I am convinced that you're doing the wrong thing, but it's also the honorable thing to do."
She smiled and caressed his cheek, rubbing a lone tear away with her thumb.
"Thank you, Andy," she answered, her voice firmer than he had expected it to be at the sight of her wet cheeks. "Once again, I am so sorry for bringing all this on you."
"Don't apologize. You're only human."
For a moment they sat in silence, drinking in the looks of each other until he spoke again. "I don't expect we can stay friends?"
She shook her head slowly. "I want to stay faithful to my husband, Andy, and I don't believe I can do that when I am with you."
"Because I am a sex-machine, baby." He knew that the comment was goofy and a little out of place in a serious conversation, but her laughter made him smile despite the fact that they were about to say goodbye to each other.
"Don't flatter yourself," she said, smiling again. "Maybe someday we can be friends."
"Yes. Then. Not now, though," he finished for her. A part of him wondered where all of his anger had gone. He had expected to be furious, maybe even vicious, but all there was space for in his heart was regret. Maybe the past three months and his continuing sobriety had instilled some sense of self-awareness in him, but he knew that he had to let her go, even if it hurt like hell. And closure, after all, was better than what they had both been enduring over the past few months. She rested her forehead against Andy's, inhaling deeply.
"You smell so good, Andy," she whispered. "Please don't think that this is easy for me. I just want to take you in my arms and never let go."
"Don't worry, I can relate."
She drew back to look at him, her face completely open and awash with emotion for once. She began to pepper soft, gentle kisses all over his face.
"I love you," he said once again, maybe just to hear the words again. As opposed to when he had said them to other women in the past they sounded easy and natural and, most importantly, completely true.
"Don't say that, Andy. You can't talk to me like this."
"Okay, we're making a deal. From now on I'll treat you like the FID-officer that you are." She raised an eyebrow and he held up a calming hand. "Let me finish. I'll joke about you, question your decisions and openly antagonize you when I think you're wrong."
She scrunched up her face and managed to look cute. "That doesn't sound very appealing to me."
He leaned in. "It's going to be easier on both of us. But every fucking time that I do that, what I really mean is 'I love you'."
She snorted. "That is so cheesy!"
He tilted his head slightly. "It does look that way on first glance, but consider this: It is my way of controlling you because every time I speak to you like that, you will be painfully aware of what I am really telling you. And you will question the choice you've made today every damn time. That is my way of getting payback."
For a moment Sharon looked as if she couldn't decide whether she should laugh, cry or lash out at him but then she settled for a playful, yet confused smile.
"That is truly devious, Andy."
Silence settled over them and he knew that this was the end. All the words had been said and opening a new topic would just stall the inevitable. Goodbye was the only possible outcome of their conversation and they both knew it. Sharon got up and so did Andy. For a moment they stood opposite each other, challenging the other to make the first move. Then Sharon stepped forward and embraced him tightly, holding on to him for a few seconds before she released him.
"Goodbye, Andy."
He let go of her hand. "Goodbye, Sharon."
A/N: So much for "then", but this story is not over yet. Thank you so much for everyone who is reading this. I appreciate all your comments and interest a lot and I hope very much that you continue to enjoy reading. Also, I would like to apologize for taking so long to update. Bad case of writer's block, don't you hate it? Now I will have to go and cry into my cranberry and soda.