She held him close as she felt the tremors wrack his body, years of guilt washing away as she rubbed soothing hands up and down his back, he whispered over and over again, "I'm sorry….I'm so sorry."
"It's ok," she crooned in his ear, her hot breath causing a familiar sensation to tingle through him as he gripped her tightly.
God, it felt so good to be in her arms again, the feel of her hands on his body took him back to a place that seemed like a lifetime ago, and it had been, back then he was a different person, he was John Kelly.
But who was he now; did he even want to be Horatio Caine anymore?
Before he'd ever met the Malucci's his life, while not perfect, was certainly a lot simpler than his present predicament. Since that fateful night, when he had been attacked on the street, everything had gone wrong, horribly wrong.
People had died and suffered because of him, their deaths were on his conscience. The curse followed him as he moved to Miami and assumed a new identity, people that he cared about had died, Speed, Jesse, Marisol, they had all died because they had the misfortune to know him. He might not have killed them with his own hands, but he knew that they would likely still be alive if they had never come into contact with him.
Was it wrong to want to go back to his past, when things seemed so much simpler?
She pulled back slightly and looked her former lover in the eyes, seeing the depths of his remorse in those bright blue orbs. Cupping his face with her hands she moved her head closer to him until she could feel his hot breath on her face.
He knew what was coming, knew that he should pull away from her before it was too late. He couldn't, he stood there frozen as she leaned closer still and placed a tender kiss on his lips. He closed his eyes as the shame of what he was doing washed over him; Calleigh had stood by him through everything. Was this how he would repay her?
For a moment he was lost in the kiss, lost in the memory of the passionate nights that he had shared with Lori, the nights when she would scream his name in the throes of ecstasy. He was young and life was good, Lori reminded him of the potential of his youth, how he felt that the world was at his feet and that happiness would last forever.
He couldn't deny that he loved Calleigh, she had done everything and more to protect him and care for him as he recovered from what the Malucci's had done to him. He was a grown man though, his strength and emotional stability were returning, he found himself feeling slightly resentful for the maternal treatment she bestowed upon on him. It made him feel old and weak; Lori made him feel young and vital. Was it so wrong, after everything that he had been through, that he wanted to pretend, just for a minute, that he was the innocent young detective from Queens and not a haggard and put upon Lieutenant in Miami?
Think, man. Think! His subconscious screamed at him as Lori attempted to deepen the kiss. Images of Calleigh assaulted his mind, he pulled away from Lori roughly in an attempt to gain some distance between them.
"I…uh…..I need the bathroom," he stuttered as he looked up at her briefly, feeling a stab of guilt as she looked at him in confusion.
"John, wait!" she called out after him, seeing his retreating form head for the hallway. Admitting defeat, she sat back down at the table and nursed her now lukewarm coffee, wondering what the hell was going on between the pair of them.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he raced to the bathroom and shut the door quickly behind him, leaning his head back against the wood, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to calm his racing heartbeat.
What the hell did he think he was doing, kissing her?
Slamming his head back against the door brought the welcome sensation of pain and he used it to focus his mind, to forget about the memories that kissing Lori again had brought.
Calleigh loved him, faults and all, and it was fair to say that he had a fair number of them. She may have been overprotective of him of late, that was understandable, but never once had she asked him to be anything other than the man she knew him to be.
Lori had always wanted things her own way and would scream at him or sulk like a child when she didn't get it. There was always something that was never quite right, he didn't work in the right Precinct, he didn't earn enough money, he didn't pay her enough attention. It had always been more give than take in his relationship with his wife. She demanded, and in an effort to keep her happy and by his side, he would inevitably give in to her.
Common sense told him that Lori would not remain in her sympathetic mood for long; she would soon tire of his self-pity and expect him to change to please her. He knew all of this and more, yet he couldn't deny that the feel of her hands on his body and the touch of her lips on his brought a multitude of sensations, many of them pleasurable. He'd been denied pleasure for so long that he felt as if he were a starving man being offered food for the first time. The sensation was addictive, he wanted more of it.
No, the voice of reason commanded him. It was a trick straight from the hands of the Devil himself; he wanted him to give into temptation, to give into his heart's desires. There was a catch; there was always a catch involved. Happiness had never come for free in his experience.
Would being with Lori really make him happy, or was it the physical gratification and the reminder of his youth that he was yearning for instead?
Making love to Calleigh had been more than he could have hoped for, he felt loved and accepted by her. But more than that, he felt peace when they had finally come together, he felt as if he had come home as they reached the pinnacle of their ecstasy together. Being with Calleigh just felt right, she was a symbol of everything that was good in his life as Horatio Caine. He needed to be with her, he had to be with her.
He had made his decision, he was a stubborn man if nothing else and he would not be swayed from the choice he had made, no matter how hard Lori would try to convince him otherwise. Kissing his ex-wife had been a mistake, but it had served to prove that his heart belonged to Calleigh, he would not throw away his chance at a future with her over a few misplaced feelings about Lori.
He crept slowly back into the kitchen, wary of the reaction from Lori. She glared at him for a moment before rising from her chair and brewing another pot of coffee.
"I thought you'd run off," she said dismissively over her shoulder, not looking at him. "You always were good at that."
Had he the energy or inclination he might have responded in kind to her goading remark, she'd tried to kiss him and his only answer had been to break away before running off and hiding. He had to though, he had to put some physical distance between them before his body betrayed him, his skin felt on fire when she touched him as his brain sent signals to his body, demanding more of the same.
Lori had always been like a drug to him, no matter how she treated him, how small she made him feel, he would always gladly take her in his arms and lose himself in the pleasure of making love to her. Like any other addict, he knew that she was no good for him, that he would feel worse afterwards for sinking so low and repeatedly going back to her no matter the consequence, he needed his fix though, and he didn't care what he would have to do to get it.
For years after leaving New York he spent his time building his control, never letting himself get lost in the sensations that a meaningful relationship with a woman would bring. He'd dated women since he'd been here but few of them were ever that serious, there was always a part of him that he kept hidden from view, the moment anyone got too close he would pull away and put distance between them. He wanted to open up and show them the real man behind the image, yet the past prevented him from having the courage to do so, many of them tired of his evasive and secretive behaviour and left him behind, in search of a man who would give them what they wanted, a lover in body, mind and soul.
The closest he had ever come to opening up to another woman had been Marisol, for some reason she had been besotted with him, even though he was a great deal older than her. She had been so sweet and innocent, drawn to the safety that his arms offered her, she had needed someone to tend to her and care for her after her battle with cancer and he had been there, like a knight in shining armour. Marisol had told him that she wanted to travel the world, to have his children, she had so many dreams and her second chance at life had spurred her on to want to achieve them.
Perhaps he had got carried away himself, her enthusiasm was infectious, he found himself caught up in her plans, doing whatever he could to make them happen for her. She needed him, after years of loneliness he had found someone who needed him, who didn't question his past, just accepted him for who he was. Did he ever truly love her though, or had he been caught up in her need for a fairy tale ending?
Not even the Brothers Grimm could have come up with a more tragic ending to her story; she had been murdered for no other reason than her association to him. She had died before she'd ever had the chance to do the things she'd wanted to.
Her death had hit him hard, in his own strange way he had loved her, not in the way he had loved Lori or the way he currently felt about Calleigh, more caregiver than lover. Losing her had been a terrible blow, the guilt of her death followed him everywhere like a murky shadow, shrouding his world in darkness where there should have been light. Her death had taught him that he would forever be cursed for the pain that he had caused in his past, the moment he found happiness it would be snatched away from him, taunting him with the life that he wanted but could never have.
Sighing, he made his way back to the table and sat down heavily on a chair, running a hand through his auburn hair, aware that he'd hurt her by pushing her away. "Lori….what just happened was wrong," he told her as leant forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
She turned to look at him now. "Why was it wrong? We obviously still have feelings for each other."
Closing his eyes, he shook his head. "Not anymore…..what we had...is in the past."
"It didn't feel like that when you kissed me," she retorted as she placed a mug of coffee in front of him with a little more force than she was intending. "You still love me; I can see it in your eyes."
"You're wrong, I love Calleigh," he looked up at her desperately, his eyes pleading with her to understand.
Pulling her chair closer to him, she took his trembling hands in her own. "What we had was special, John. We can have it again."
He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping for all the world that she would just scream at him and storm out, anything was better than the sweet torture that she was putting him through. "No," he ground out through gritted teeth, feeling his resolve weaken as she stroked the back of his hands with her thumbs.
She gripped onto his hands tighter as she felt him trying to pull away from her. "Look, I admit it, I was wrong to let you go…But I know now how good together we were, I want us to have a second chance…..I want you."
Throwing his head back he let out a pained moan as his head and heart waged a fierce battle with each other, the cacophony of sounds reverberating throughout his skull would have been enough to drive him to his knees were he not already sitting down. The urge to grab her, to take her right there and then in the kitchen, was almost too much for him to bear. His mind knew it was fighting a losing battle as his hands moved to her shoulders, his head dropped back down to look at her, passion clouding his vision and judgement as he looked at her beautiful face. In a last-ditch effort, his mind threw forth a long-forgotten memory from his past.
Flashback. New York 1992:
Christmas and New Year had come and gone as life returned to normal in New York, the last month of the year was always a strange time in this city; its citizens seemed to release a year's worth of pent-up craziness as the holiday season approached. Every cop was glad when the festivities were over and done with, the cells had been full of people who'd consumed too much liquor or had gotten into fist fights with other parents as to who would grab the last toy in the store for whatever was all the rage that year.
Too many perps meant too much paperwork as far as he was concerned, not helped by the fact that Andy had taken it upon himself to indulge in his weakness for booze. His citing of the fact that it was the holiday season held little weight with his beleaguered partner. He'd tired of covering the older man's ass every time the Lieutenant came asking questions as to why Andy wasn't at his desk.
It irritated him that the vast majority of the people that they had arrested and arraigned over the last six weeks were normal everyday people who had been caught up in the madness of the season. Most of them had loving families; they should have been spending their Christmas at home with their children, not spending it with a night in lockup for their juvenile behaviour.
At least he'd been spared working Christmas Day this year, after visiting his mother in the nursing home the night before, it was heavenly to wake up next to his wife the next morning as they celebrated the day in their own unique way. The next few days had carried on in the same vein as the loved-up couple put their problems earlier in the year behind them and concentrated on spending some quality time with each other, laughing and smiling like they did when they'd first met.
Their agreement to keep the sex dirty had certainly come with some unexpected benefits, Lori had become much more adventurous and demanding when it came to his duties as a husband and a lover. There had been days when her appetite had been insatiable, yet he'd prided himself on the fact that he had kept up with her every time. There were days when he had barely made it through the door after his shift before she had jumped on him and started tearing off his clothes, each time she dragged him down to the floor to have her way with him he prayed that this time would be it, that their physical union would result in conceiving the child that he so desperately yearned for.
He ambled around the kitchen preparing breakfast for the pair of them as he heard his wife banging about in the bathroom, obviously preparing herself for another day at the DA's office. He smirked when he heard her curse loudly as he carried two cups of coffee to the table and set them down, waiting for Lori to join him. He was about to make another trip to the kitchen when her voice stopped him, the fear in it evident as she spoke.
"John?"
He smiled wolfishly at her as he saw her, perhaps she was trying out a new look, he thought as she stood in the doorway, her blouse billowing open and revealing her lacy white bra.
"Need a hand dressing?" he asked playfully as he made his way towards her.
He was stunned when she took a step back and ran a shaky hand through her hair. "I'm late," she blurted out finally after a long pause.
Letting out a small laugh, he looked at his watch and told her patiently. "It's only eight thirty, you don't need to be at work for another hour, remember?"
She growled in frustration at his inability to understand what it is that she was trying to tell him. "No, you fool. I mean I'm late!"
It seemed like an eternity, she watched his expression change as the realisation of what she meant finally set in. He stood before her, mouth wide open as he struggled to comprehend what she'd just told him.