Author's note: Thank you so much for the positive reviews of Chapter 1, and I hope you like Perry's reflections on Della. I will also try to write a similar story from Della's perspective, as her story should be told too!

DELLA

I needed Della. I wanted Della. The realisation dawned on me when I saw that she was not outside the court room or the holding cell. After I had left Laura, Glen had commented that he had seen Della heading outside some time earlier after court ended, and I could tell from his superior tone and look that he expected her to have left altogether – left court and possibly left me. I half wondered myself whether she would have – I had certainly paid her little attention lately and from my recent experience, she may have assumed that once again we would be changing our flight plans to accommodate the Robertsons. Laura's defence this time.

How badly have I been treating Della lately? How blind have I been to her? At the beginning of this case, she had been gently teasing me about my feelings for Laura, which I had ignored and almost taunted her with. If I had listened to her I may have been more honest about how I had been handling the case.

I had been flattered that Laura appeared to see the man I used to be and still cared for me yet I completely failed to understand that Della is the one who really knows me and loves and cares for me just as I am. Laura ignored my cane and helped me pretend that we were both younger, but Della doesn't indulge that pretence but instead she is fully aware of my health problems and pain, and is genuinely concerned for me.

I think I resented her attention to my health when Laura appeared, because I wanted that pretence that I was the same man I was thirty years ago, but I can see now that she is the sensible level-headed one in this partnership. Della does everything she can to make life easier for me – and I have repaid her recently by ignoring her, and more than likely hurting her either directly or indirectly.

I was blind to her love and caring for me. I was blind to her presence in my life because I expected her to be there at my side, and she was. I was blind to the smile that brightened her face when I would return to the suite where she was working all day, usually alone. I was blind to all the little signs that show her love and devotion to me – her gentle teasing, how naturally and tenderly she strokes my shoulder when she talks to me, and how she even has my medication ready for me when I need it.

What strikes me now, is that on the night of the fundraiser, Della had my pain medication in her purse in case I needed it. She knew me well enough to know I wouldn't think of it, but she was prepared and took it with her just in case. I'm actually ashamed now of how lazy I have become, that I almost expect her to mitigate my pain – which is entirely my own responsibility at my great age. I'm not a child and I need to be more responsible with my health.

She thinks about me and cares about me, more than I deserve at times, and more than a secretary should – but then we are more than secretary and boss.

We are, and have been so much more than that.

I should never have lost sight of that.

The night she reminded me about those photographs – the night that everything seemed to fall into place, I must have had some realisation about my recent behaviour as I remember how we were talking briefly before she went to her room.

I stomped into the suite in temper, just as she had finished her typing. As always she asked about my leg and I grumbled that it hurt, but then wasn't that because I thought I knew better than the doctors and had spent the afternoon with Paul chasing down a lead and never had the sense to take my medicine that day? How hard can it be to remember – take the tablets every four hours – and I had been out for nearly 12 hours!

Della had my pills on her desk with a glass of water all ready for me – she didn't know when I would be back, but they were ready and she would wait for me however late it was. And it was late when I checked my watch. Despite that, Della still greeted me with a warm smile and checked I had everything I needed before she left to go to bed.

I was feeling frustrated that my latest hunch about the case had proven to be incorrect and I was going into court the next day no further forward. As deflated as I felt, I called to Della as she was leaving, to thank her, and this must have come as a surprise to her judging by her pause. I hadn't turned around to face her but she did sound happier as she wished me good night.

When did I stop being so polite, so courteous to Della? When did I start taking her and her good nature for granted? She never complains to me despite the many causes I must have given her over the years and especially in the last few weeks. It's almost as though I expect Della to be there at my side when I need her and don't appreciate all she does to be there with me – the sacrifices she makes within her own personal life, the times she must have to bite her tongue at the way she is treated by clients, and how much stress I add to her life. I'm not always the easiest person to work with or for, and not the easiest man to love either!

It seemed as though I had no case, and yet Della had the key to the case in her hand and had been reminding me about this evidence for days and I had been too busy to give it my attention. She really is my good luck charm!

As I was saying goodbye to Laura, she kissed me on the cheek, and I would normally respond in kind, and yet, this time I couldn't. I kissed her hands in farewell, but I couldn't kiss her face – hers was not the face I loved or wanted – needed to kiss.

I made my way through the meandering court corridors to go outside to look for Della. With Glen's comments ringing in my ear, my conscience told me that if she had indeed left court instead of waiting for me, then there was only myself to blame.

Opening the door, I was momentarily blinded by the low Denver sunlight but then I could see Della from behind, standing still at the top of the courtroom steps. Despite that watery sunshine, it was a very cold day and she must have been out there for some time and freezing. She was patiently waiting for me – as she always is – and I wondered why I should always be making her wait, and whether one of these days she will realise that I'm not worth waiting for and leave.

I felt a surge of emotions for her at that moment as I pictured how the courtroom had emptied, everyone had left the building and she was standing outside alone – and I didn't want her to feel alone for a moment longer. I could see that she sensed my presence and when I approached I could also see that she was trying to be nonchalant .

As I called her name she tensed a little, and as she responded bravely, readying herself for further disappointment, I drew my arm around her shoulders. Until that moment I had not faced her, but right then I needed her to know that I wanted her close to me, and as I gently squeezed her shoulder, I turned to face her and suggested that we go home. When she heard that, the look she gave me was one of sheer relief and joy and my heart nearly burst with love and gratitude for her.

Despite my reputation in the court room, I'm not very articulate in my personal life, but Della knew exactly what I was trying to convey in that one gesture and in those three words 'lets go home' She knew that I wasn't staying to defend Laura Robertson, that I hoped we were still together, and that my home was with her

I swear that despite any recent evidence to the contrary, I love Della Street. I may not have the sense I was born with at times, nor the right words to show her and the rest of the world, but she is and always has been the love of my life.

Actually, Della is my life and whilst she may think I have suffered because of Laura – my so-called 'lost love', I know that my only real tragedy would be losing Della's love. And this I will fight to avoid for the rest of my days