Hi. I know it's been a while since there was an update. If you follow me on tumblr, you'll know I've been dealing with a lot of personal stuff recently which has got in the way. I apologize for taking so long to update- I think a part of me just doesn't want to be done with story. There is one chapter and an epilogue after this, so we are nearly to the finish line. Can you believe it?

Chapter 19: Phase Nineteen- Win her Back

Mary emerged from the shower, dressed in sister's clothing, but feeling warm and less shaky. She navigated the corridor back to the main room.

"Auntie Mary," Marigold exclaimed, bounding up to her the moment she entered the room, "We made cookies!"

"Did you really?" Mary asked, as her niece tugged her to an armchair.

"We used the recipe that our cook used to use when we first moved to New York," Edith explained, as she brought Mary a cup of tea and a blanket. Mary smiled at tea, plain with a bit of milk, just like how she used to drink it as a girl, before her cappuccino obsession began. Regardless of their distant and frosty relationship, Edith knew Mary.

"Here are the cookies," Marigold said, delivering her a plate of fresh chocolate chip cookies. They were indeed a childhood comfort. Mary remembered the excitement of eating them when they first moved to the States. They'd had cookies in London, but these were American cookies. They had been new and exciting. Mary cherished that Edith still remembered it.

"Thank you so much, Marigold," Mary said, giving her niece a shaky, bent over hug.

"Good girl, now off to your nap," Edith told the little girl.

"Yes, Mummy," Marigold said, before trodding off.

"She goes like that?" Mary laughed, "I certainly hope that if I ever had children they are as well behaved as Marigold."

Edith blushed, "I'm really fortunate. She's has a gentle disposition. Her naps give me time to write in the afternoons. I have a local girl come to mind her in the mornings so I can write then too. She watches her when I have meetings and stuff with my agent. Or if I pop home for a holiday. That's why I'm not home often, I can't really be seen with Marigold and the Crawleys."

Mary gave her a rueful smile, "I'm so sorry. We're all at a loss for it. She seems so lovely. I'm sorry for all I've missed with her. I hope one day to make up for it."

"I'm glad you know now," Edith said, "And thank you for being so kind about it all."

"Don't thank me for being decent," Mary said, nibbling on a cookie, "You've been through so much without a family to help you. It's abhorrent. I don't envy you. And I don't blame you."

Edith gave her a melancholic look, before standing, "Would you like some soup? I put a bit on the stove for you."

"That would be lovely," Mary said, "I'm not sure I'll ever get the chill out of my bones."

"If you'd have called, I would have been home in time," Edith said, "We were just out at some shops."

"Would you have?" Mary said, "I'm not quite so sure."

Edith looked up from where she ladling soup, "That's probably true. I'm sorry. It's just that I'm supposed to keep this secret."

"But why?" Mary blurted.

Edith walked back with the bowl of soup in her hands, "Careful, it's warm. Let me grab you a spoon."

Mary nodded, as her sister walked back to the kitchen. There was a moment of silence between them.

Edith sighed, "I suppose it's time I told you everything."

She walked back to the living area, passing Mary a spoon and a napkin. She settled opposite from Mary on one of the armchairs near the fire.

"So I suppose it all started my final year at Princeton," Edith said. "I was selected to a creative writing thesis. You'd get to work on a project, mine was a novel, with a faculty member. I was paired with a young professor, a Michael Gregson, whom I'd never had as a teacher before. He was only 27, which is extraordinarily young for a professor. He was quite good looking, and very kind, but extremely talented. Have you read The Criterion? You know the novel about the posh restaurant in London and all the vignettes about the people who lived there?"

Mary wrinkled her forehead, before recalling a book she'd read the summer after she'd graduated from Cornell. She nodded. It had been quite good.

"Right well, he was my advisor," Edith explained, "And like any clever girl with a brilliant advisor, I was completely dazzled by him. We'd have these thesis meetings that were so engaging. He'd really take the time to read my work, but also respect it and my thoughts. He was great. Then these office hours turned into meetings at the coffee shop nearby, then they turned into lunch dates, then dinner dates. Three months into the semester, I found myself sleeping over at his apartment."

Mary couldn't stop her eyebrows from raising, her mouth opening to a little gasp.

"I'd never really done anything like that before," Edith explained, "I didn't have a lot of friends at the time. I was quite reserved in university. You were off living your life abroad. Sybil was this sweetheart at Barnard, getting all these glowing articles about her. I was in the perfect place to need somebody, and he was exactly the somebody I needed.

"I'm not saying this because I regret it," She qualified, "I don't. I still don't."

She took a shaky breath.

"By the time I went home for Christmas that year, I knew two things. One, that I was so in love with Professor Gregson. And two, that I was pregnant."

Mary swallowed and nodded. She wished she could have been there for sister. She imagined the fear and anxiety she went through as she tried to decide what to do.

"I didn't know what to do," Edith said, her voice was getting rough with that feeling that Mary knew well, from right before one is about to cry.

"I wish you had come to me," Mary said.

Edith frowned, "You know how things were between us then."

Mary nodded, she did. She felt the same feeling over and over. Regret. She regretted so much that her sister had been struggling through all of this alone because she was too busy, too distant, too petty to be trusted to help her bear the burden. Maybe the rumors were true, maybe she didn't have a heart.

"I spent all of Christmas break figuring out how to tell Michael about what happened. I rehearsed it over and over. So then when I went back for the new semester, I was ready to tell him everything and ask him to help me decide what to do next."

"When I went to his office my first week back, he was gone," Edith said, "I worried for the worst. I thought he'd taken off and left me, because I was pregnant and afraid of scandal. But he didn't even know I was pregnant, so that obviously wasn't it. I thought maybe he'd taken a longer holiday or switched universities without telling me. I was heartbroken.

"But that wasn't the worst of it. I wish it had been any of things," Edith continued, "I got a call a week later. His voice was wrecked. He didn't know how to explain it. He'd gone home for his Christmas holidays and found out that he'd been diagnosed with cancer. Not the sort that is easily curable, the sort that kills you very quickly and painfully. He wouldn't be returning to campus. He had three weeks left.

"So at that point, I didn't know what do," Edith said, "I went to Mother and explained it all to her- the affair, the pregnancy, the cancer. Then she went to father and it turned into this 'thing' like it always does with them. All they could think of was the scandals it could bring. I think they wanted to protect me from it, but I know that they also wanted to protect themselves, protect the family name.

"They forbade me from going to see Michael as he was dying. They said it would be too obvious, the press would follow. Mother came out to Princeton for the two weeks, fussing over 'the baby' but it was really to keep me from going to see Michael.

Edith heaved a sob, "It still kills me. Because I never got to say goodbye. I never got that closure."

Mary abandoned her tea and soup, and walked over to comfort her sister. She curled up next to her, squishing onto the arm chair and wrapped her in her arms.

"I'm so sorry," Mary said, "I'm so sorry you had to go through that. It's not unlike Matthew, you know. His fiancée died while he ill. He never got to say good-bye. I'm not sure he's going to talk to me again, but you could talk with him about it. I know it's been a really long road for him to get over something like that."

"It's okay," Edith said, "I've dealt with it now. I live in peace with what happened."

Mary nodded, but knew that wounds like that didn't heal lightly.

"But what happened after that?" Mary asked, "How did you end up here?"

"After Michael died, Father suggested that I end the pregnancy, save us from scandal. But it was the last thing that existed of Michael Gregson. He was a beloved author, a creator, and this was his last creation. I couldn't," Edith said, "I couldn't at all. I was quite pregnant when I graduated, but the papers were writing it off as weight gain. Father was still worried about scandal, so he didn't let me come home that summer. He thought it would be better if I became this sort of hermit. He bought this cottage and had it renovated for me a month before graduation, so I could move in right away. I was in too much pain and anxiety to stand up to him, to ask for something else. So I came here. I had a few literary agents who were starting to become interested in my work. I did all the business through e-mail or skype. I let most relationships grow distant. Sybil came that summer to be there for the birth."

"At first, Father really wanted me to give Marigold up for adoption, but I couldn't do that either," Edith said, "I remember the phone call, he ended saying, 'Fine! Live in that fucking cottage for all I care. You made your bed, now you've got to lie in it.'"

Mary's face wrinkled in pain, as she squeezed her sister tighter, "It's not fair. What our father does isn't fair. He can't go around dictating our lives. He can't decide our lives. We've got to make our own mistakes and scandals. And if we fuck up our family brand name, well then screw it. It isn't worth it. It isn't worth living a life of loneliness, forced to live in some countryside cottage in Yorkshire. Or having someone being paid to date you. It's insane."

"So, the rumors are true then?" Edith asked, "You were faking it the whole time?"

"Are we really doing this?" Anna asked, as she took her mobile back from Matthew.

"I do have to admit this plan is completely insane," Sybil concurred.

The two girls looked at Matthew. His bit his lip and then-

"I just can't stop thinking about Mary. How she is out there, well likely at Edith's, thinking over and over in her mind that I don't love her, that I don't trust her?" Matthew said, "And I can't stand it. I'm afraid if I don't chase after her now, I'll never get her back. I can't stand the thought of staying here while she's suffering, while I'm suffering. I can't stand the thought of going back to New York in my suit, sitting through UN meetings, and spending the rest of my life wondering what would happen if I hadn't been such a cad. What would have happened if I hadn't chased after Mary Crawley."

"That's quite the declaration, I suppose we must go through with this ridiculous plan," Sybil pipped up.

"Oh good, I was hoping we'd really do this, if only because I have a soft spot for teen dramas," Anna agreed, laughing, "I've googled it and there is a pizza delivery place in the area called Little Tony's. It's the only one in the area. Shall we try them?"

She pressed call and there was a moment of silence where they all waited to see if they would pick up. Sybil stifled a bubble of nervous laughter, as they all wondered if this crazy plan would actually happen.

"Hello, Little Tony's Pizza. This is Greg, how can I help you?" The voice rang from the phone, loud enough for the three of them to all hear. Sybil and Matthew bent in closer to the phone.

"Hi, yes, I was wondering if I could have, um, 2 medium pizza's delivered," Anna said.

"Great. What toppings would you like?" Greg asked.

Anna turned to Sybil, "What do you want?"

"Veggie," She replied.

"One veggie, and one with pepperoni," Anna told the man.

"What about me?" Matthew asked.

"You'll be hiding in the boot of the car, remember?" Hissed Sybil, "No pizza for you. It's your punishment for being rude to Mary."

They all suppressed a giggle at that comment.

"What address?" Greg asked.

"You know that hotel castle thing?" Anna asked, "Yes, there. But you'll have to come to back entrance because the front is surrounded by reporters."

"What? Who is this?" Greg asked.

"Not telling," Anna snapped, "Just bring us pizza, please."

"Your total is 23 pounds," The man said, "See you in around twenty minutes."

Then it was Mary's turn to let out a sob, "I wish. If it were all true, then I wouldn't be quite as miserable as I am now."

"I knew you couldn't be faking it," Edith remarked, "You looked far too happy in those pictures. It had to be the real thing."

Mary smiled at her sister was hugging her back, stroking her hair as tears trickled. She knew her well.

"Don't mind me being miserable," Mary said. She wanted to get back to Edith's story, so that it would distract her from the ragged pain in her heart when she thought of Matthew, "How are you now? Have you found friends, or love, or is it just you and Marigold?"

"Just me and Marigold for the most part," Edith explained, "We picked up a few friends overtime- the old lady who runs the bakery in town, the girl who works at the toy shop, just acquaintances really. But well, here's the thing. I've been doing most of my publication business over e-mail and skype, but I pop down to London every so often if it has to be done in person. So, over the last year or two, since I've been working on The Marchioness, I've been using a Bertie Pelham as my agent. And well, we're in love. Really in love."

Mary's lips popped into a little "o."

"But he doesn't know about Marigold," Edith explained, "Whenever he comes here, I have her minded. Whenever I visit London, she isn't there. I can't tell him. So, I'm not sure how much farther this can go."

"Oh Edith," Mary sighed.

The emotions were painted across Edith's face- the thrill of falling in love, the disappointment of having to keep this secret, the fear of it destroying her relationship.

"Why are we doing this then?" Mary said. "Just stop caring about Robert Crawley CEO and his silly secrets. Tell Bertie about Marigold. Tell your friends. Tell the papers for all I care. Stop letting these silly family rules stop you from living your life."

"Do you really think I should?" Edith said, "What if it ruins my book launch? What if Bertie rejects me? There are too many variables."

"Edith, you will literally always miss out if you hide yourself out here," Mary said, "And love is always worth following your dreams for."

"So, wait," Greg said, "You want me to stow Matthew Crawley in the boot of my car?"

"Um, yes," Anna responded.

"Are you serious?" Greg said, "This is fantastic. So, the news wasn't true? She wasn't lying to you the whole time?"

"No, she wasn't," Matthew said, "She loves me. I, uh, didn't respond the right way to the rumors and I was very unkind to her. I need to put it right."

"So, if I help you, I'll be helping to reunite a famous couple?" Greg said.

"Indeed," Sybil cooed, "Won't you feel so important? Plus we'll pay you 200 quid."

"Wow," He said, "Of course. Wait- actually- um, could you send out like a thank you tweet to me after you are successful? I need more followers."

Matthew laughed, "Sure. Anything. Let's just hurry, shall we?"

"Right," Anna said, opening the trunk, "Into the boot with you!"

Matthew eyed the small back portion of the car dubiously, wondering how a fully grown man would fit in. He began to crawl in, twisting and folding himself so that he could fit into the small area. Lying flat on his stomach, he just fit, abet for his foot sticking up into the small window in the back.

"No one will notice his foot sticking up, will they?" Sybil said.

"Probably not," Anna agreed, "It's the best we can do, so we might as well try it."

"Here's the cash, Greg," Sybil said, "Thanks for the pizza."

"Mary," Edith said, "Look at this."

Mary had been sitting curled up in the armchair, her eyes blinking on the verge of sleep, exhausted from the tiring, emotional day. Just like Marigold, she thought, she was ready for naptime.

"What is it?" Mary asked.

Edith passed Mary her phone, where an article was pulled up.

Breaking Gossip News: Matthew Crawley Caught Escaping Hotel After Crawley Family Erupts in Scandal. You'll Never Believe How He Did It!

Matthew Crawley, former boyfriend of Mary Crawley, who it was revealed this morning to have been paid off to date Mary. Even crueler, it appears that Mary was playing Matthew all along- letting him believe that she loved him, when really it was all a lie. This scandal comes on the heels of Sybil Crawley's disastrous failed wedding to American Congressman Larry Grey.

Early this afternoon, Matthew Crawley was caught leaving the hotel of the aforementioned wedding. He was escaping by hiding in the boot of a pizza delivery truck. He was only caught escaping because his foot was sticking up through the window (see photo below).

So what is the reason behind Matthew's secret departure? Is he trying to escape the Crawley family that has ruined his life? Or is he seeking out vengeance on them? Or, even craziest, maybe he is trying to find Mary Crawley who reportedly left the hotel earlier this morning on the family helicopter to go into hiding?

"This doesn't mean he's looking for me," Mary said, "He's probably trying to sneak back to New York with what little dignity we all have left."

"Or he realized that he's an idiot," Edith suggested.

"Even if he is looking for me, it might not be good," Mary said, passing her sister back the phone and pulling her blanket tighter around herself, "He was so hurt before. Nothing I could say was helping. If he is still that wounded, he won't be coming here to kiss and make up."

"Are you sure?" Edith said, "I saw the pictures of you. I saw the tweets and instagrams and tabloid articles. The look in both of your eyes- what you had was real. And real love, even if lost in a world of lies and scandals, it doesn't just go away."

"When did my little sister become so wise?" Mary mused, "But you should really take your own advice. It'll be the same with Bertie you know. If he really loves you, it'll last."

Edith bit her lip, "I suppose we'll see. I'm off to go write for a bit. Why don't you rest a bit? You look really tired. I'll wake you up when I start making dinner."

Mary wanted to object, but it was raining outside and she really was very quite tired. She wrapped the blanket and tugged it around her shoulders, settling into the softness of Edith's armchair and the gentle lull of the promise of rest.

It was hours later when Mary awoke to the sound of someone rapping at the door. She blinked opened her eyes to see the sun hanging low in the sky, the rain reduced to the laziest of drizzles. For a moment, she only felt the soft warmth of her armchair cocoon and the safe feeling of being with family.

"Mary, wake up," Edith said, "It's him."

Then it all came rushing back to her- the scandals, the pain in Matthew's eyes, her escape from the hotel in the rain, Edith's story, and the article they found on her phone.

Mary shot up from her chair, letting her blanket fall, looking at the door.

"He's here," Edith repeated, "Matthew. You should be the one to open the door, if you want to."

Mary wrapped her arms around herself, confused and half asleep, but also panicking and feeling as if everything was falling apart.

"I guess I can't leave him out there," She mumbled, reaching for the knob.

She pulled it open and there he was. He was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, which seemed a little too cold for bizarrely cold August day- even if the rain was letting up. There were drops clinging to his hair. His eyes looked as bright as ever.

She didn't know how to react to him there. She wanted to punch him. He hurt her. He didn't trust her, didn't trust her love for him. She wanted him to know how much his anger at her had destroyed her.

But she wanted to kiss him. She had thought she'd never see him again and there he was on Edith's porch. She wanted to feel his arms around her, his lips on hers. She wanted him to repeat time after time that he was never ever leaving her again.

She wanted to soothe the pain that haunted her from the last time she saw it in his eyes. She wanted to hold him close and run her hands through his hair and promise him that she has always, always loved him.

But instead, she couldn't bring herself to say anything. Instead, she felt tears pierce her eyes, her hands begin to shake again, her whole body begin to freeze up.

"Mary," He hushed.

He stepped forward and took her shaking fingers in his own. She was startled by physical contact, startled to feel his hands on hers. Had it really been just that morning that she'd said goodbye to him?

A lump settled in her throat, stopping her from being able to respond.

"Mary," He said again, lifting her hand to his mouth to brush a kiss onto them.

Her lip started quaking and she knew that she was just a moment away from full on sobbing.

"Oh my darling," He said, dropping her hands and moving to hug her, before pausing and asking, "Mary, is it alright to hug you? I don't want to startle you, if you aren't ready for it, but I just very much want to feel you with me right now."

She nodded, grateful that he always asked permission to touch her, and let his arms envelope her in his embrace. Her own arms wrapped around his neck. She let her sobs come out into his shoulder. He held her body tight, absorbing the shuttering of her shoulders. She felt his hands rub up and down her back.

"Mary, I'm so sorry," He said and she could hear that he was trying hard to hold back tears as well.

She sniffled and tightened her arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry too," She sobbed out, "For whatever I did that made you doubt my love for you."

"No, no, no," He said, "It wasn't anything you did. It was my own stupidity. Mary, I was so stupid. I'm sorry."

His words hit her like a drop of warmth, melting in her heart, then pushing through her veins in the most healing of ways. It wouldn't fix it all, she knew they had plenty to talk through, but it made her feel as if she wasn't breaking apart anymore.

All of a sudden, she felt a tug on her pant leg and looked down to see Marigold.

"Auntie Mary," She said, "Who's this?"

Mary laughed, as she watched Matthew look down at the small girl. Mary reached down and lifted the small girl into her arms.

"This is Matthew," Mary said, holding the girl up so that she could shake Matthew's hand face to face.

"And who might you be?" Matthew asked.

"My niece," Mary said, "Marigold."

"What a pleasure you meet you, Miss Marigold," Matthew said, giving Marigold's hand a squeeze.

"You too," She squeaked before Mary carefully lowered her to the ground.

"And this is my sister Edith," Mary said, turning to sister, remembering that she had been watching during their tearful reunion, "I don't know if you've met at all."

Edith moved over from where she was standing in the kitchen.

"I don't know if I've forgiven you yet for my making my sister cry," Edith said, "But I suspect you're here to repair that, so I suppose I'll shake your hand anyway."

Matthew chucked, taking Edith's hand.

"I wish I was meeting you looking less like a fool than I do now," Matthew said, "You are right. I am here to repair things."

"Well, I'm about to start working on things for dinner," Edith said, "And the rain is abating, so maybe you and Mary should take a walk and talk it out. Then you'll be back in time for a spot of supper. What is it our cook used to say? Nothing makes you more hungry or more tired than grief."

"She did, didn't she?" Mary laughed, wiping at the stray tears that were lingering in her eyes. "We should talk."

Matthew nodded solemnly, "Yes, let's go on a walk now- then when we come back I can have the Edith Crawley autograph my mother's book."

Edith rolled her eyes, "Don't even think about asking for an early copy of The Marchioness."

"I wouldn't dare it," Matthew said.

Mary found a pair of Edith's wellies by the door and pulled them. She didn't know how her sister did it. Mary wasn't much suited for country life, for mud and fields and animals. However, Mary could admit, as she took Matthew's hand and an umbrella and walked outside, that there was a different kind of beauty to the countryside. The mist hanging over the fields, the pink and pastel orange hues of the sunset, the sharp green of the grass- it was beautiful.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Mary asked.

"It really is," Matthew commented, "Edith's lucky to live in such a beautiful place."

"She didn't choose this," Mary said, not knowing how she would ever begin to explain Edith's haunting story with Matthew, "My father bought her these cottages and forced to her to hide out here as a hermit."

"Because of Marigold?" Matthew said, putting it together.

Mary nodded with a gulp, "That among a few other factors."

"It seems that your father likes to have control over your lives, your reputation," Matthew asserted.

"That's quite true," Mary said, "I've told Edith she should just stop caring, come out of hiding, tell the world about Marigold."

"I think you all should stand up to your father," Matthew said, "You Crawley women are too strong willed to not live the lives you want."

Mary laughed and then was silent for a moment. They turned into a path that led into a forested trail. She knew that needed to talk about it. They really needed to talk about what happened.

She let out a breath slowly, "I can't tell you that the e-mails didn't exist. He did send me those things. And to be honest, that second first date- the one in Central Park- I was trying to follow his rules. I was trying to make you fall in love me. But by the time I was waiting for you outside Hamilton, I knew it was all for not. I knew that I had feelings for you. It didn't matter what my father wanted, or what I wanted, or anything- because I was falling for you. And I tried to push you away, because I was so afraid of having feelings for you. You know this, we talked about this- it's not always easy for cold and careful Mary Crawley to be vulnerable. But loving you, it made me vulnerable. Enough that today, today," She stopped, her voice caught in her throat, "Today broke my heart."

Matthew stopped walking to face Mary, taking both her hands in his, and squeezing them.

"I just don't understand why you didn't tell me," Matthew said, "You could have told me at any time about the e-mails. Why would you keep them secret?"

Mary shrugged, still sniffling through tears, "I didn't think it mattered. They didn't mean anything to me. I was sure of my feelings. I didn't need to mention them because they didn't matter to me."

Mary lifted her hands slowly to cup his face.

"I wish I could make them never exist, but I can't. I wish I could give you some physical proof that I love you, that I've always loved you. But love is funny like that, invisible." There was a trace of a smile on Mary's tear stained face, "You have to have faith. That's the only thing you can do. You have to believe that I love you. You have to do it blindly. That's what love is- it's taking the risk anyway."

He pulled her into his arms. The heat of his arms warmed her, still chilly in the cold, damp air. He felt like safety and comfort, like he should. "Of course, I believe you, Mary. Of course, I know you love me. Of course, I still love you. I'm sorry. I'm really truly sorry."

She pulled back to look at him, letting her hands slip from his neck to rest lightly on his forearms. She needed to speak seriously with him.

"If you're in this for the long haul," Mary said, "Which I truly hope you are, you'll have to know that this won't be the end of it. There will always be scandals and you'll probably be dragged into them. Your name will be tabloid covers and gossip websites and tweets and facebook status. Some of them will be true, a lot will be pure lies. Will you be by my side through it all? I need to know this, Matthew. It's fine if you can't," the sniffle that escaped showed that clearly it wasn't, "It's fine if you can't say that, if you can't commit, but you have to decide now. Because I can't go through this every time Richard Carlisle or Larry Grey or whoever else comes out with a dirty story on me. Are you able to promise that?"

There was no hesitation.

"Yes, Mary, yes," Matthew said, "Yes, of course. I'm going to prove it to you. If it takes a month, or a year, or years upon years- I'm going to work to show you that I'll stick by you. I won't let this happen again."

"Are you just saying this? Or do you really mean it?" Mary asked.

"Well, I suppose I should tell you," Matthew said, "I really am in this for the long hall. I'm quitting the UN. I've put in my two weeks notice. It's probably for the best, I was starting to get dirty looks after all the time I've spent off of work lately. I've found an office space, that's what I was in London for. I'm moving to London to be closer to you. I'm opening up my charity as a proper one- after all I'll have 500 million dollars. I'm going to focus on it and grow it. I really like the collaborative project we did- so if you are interested in doing more of that work, maybe that could be a niche. What do you think?"

Mary could hardly contain her grin, dashing at the tears in her eyes.

"Matthew," she said, "I think that is the most brilliant idea I've heard in a long time. Except for perhaps my own." She smiled coyly for a moment, before divulging her secret, "I've been accepted to Kings College London to get my masters in International Development. I want to keep building on the work we did in Burjambura. This line, has been one of the most challenging, most fulfilling thing, that I've done in a long time. I want to learn how to help people in the most sustainable ways."

Matthew launched at her, pulling her into his arms and lifting her around. She watched the trees blur around her, his warm hands on her stomach, the residual rain drops tickling her face. And everything felt so very right.

Thanks again for your patience and understanding. Enjoy!