Author's Note: So far I have written this story in episodes and only posted them on my own site, but since I occasionally have had problems with it, I decided to post this story other places as well. However, here Iīll wait until I have material enough for 5 episodes before posting, so if you think itīs too long between updates, check out my own site where Iīm posting an episode as soon as itīs been written. Which doesnīt mean it canīt take some time now and then, I might add. <s> Before I forget, thereīll be both sex and hurt feelings in this one.

Comments are welcome at: dayze11@hotmail.com

Copyright (c) 1999 by Day

Part 7

Episode 30

"Hey…"

I blinked, then smiled uncertainly, trying to see her face in the feeble daylight, "Hey."

"Slept well?"

"Um… yes, thank you."

Terri nodded, gave me a little smile and then continued to look at me in silence from her spot near the wall where I had noticed her sitting when I woke up only seconds earlier. When she had come into my room and for how long she had been watching I had no idea, but I vaguely recalled her wearing pretty much the same clothes the day before so it was possible she had been there all night. Not wanting to think about that, I sat up, suddenly feeling oddly self-conscious.

"What time is it?"

Terri glanced at her watch, "A little past seven, Alan and Jenny just left."

In the ensuing silence, our eyes met, but for once it was me who wasnīt comfortable holding her gaze and quickly looked away. Terri sighed softly, then pushed herself over to sit on the floor beside my bed. We both stared straight ahead at the wall for a long moment, then she asked quietly, "Are you very mad at me?"

I hesitated lightly, still looking ahead, then asked, "Why did you leave?"

"Leave… I didnīt…" Terri tasted the word, her voice pensive. "I guess I just… kinda ran away."

I turned to look at her while she kept staring at the wall, "Why?"

"I just needed to get away."

"From me?"

"No…" I could see a little, resigned smile flicker across her face then she finally raised her head to meet my eyes. "Not you. It didnīt have anything to do with you… I was just tired…"

I exhaled slowly, absorbing her words and feeling somewhat tired myself, then said, "Of what? School? Your mother? What?"

Terri smiled bitterly, "Myself." She shrugged, looking away, "Life… Things just get so complicated sometimes. I donīt know what to do. I…" She sighed, shrugging again, "I donīt know what I want anymore. Iīm not sure I ever did."

"Why didnīt you tell me something was wrong?" Although I hadnīt intended it, the hurt was still evident in my words and Terri grimaced, her fingers restlessly playing with her sleeve. "I didnīt want to… I mean, there wasnīt really anything I could say. You see…" She looked at me, her brow furrowing, "Itīs not something definite, something I can pinpoint, itīs… itīs more of a feeling. I donīt feel…"

"Happy?" I offered quietly.

"Yeah… happy…" Terri spoke the word like it was something vile.

We were silent for a very long time as I tried to understand what she was saying, doing my utmost not to take it personally. When I at last had gathered my thoughts enough to think of something to say, Terri beat me to it, her speech coming unsure and hesitant, "When… when I feel that way, I just want to be alone… I just want people to go away. I donīt want them around because I… Iīm not the most considerate person then, Iīm… I donīt really care about anything… or anybody. I know that I hurt people when Iīm like that, I know that Iīm being selfish and unreasonable, I know that they donīt understand because I never say anything, or give a reason. But…" She rubbed her forehead angrily, closing her eyes, "But how can I give a reason when I donīt know it myself? Sometimes Iīd wish that…"

"That what?"

At first I didnīt think she would answer, then she spoke almost inaudibly, "That I could be a little more the way I want to be. And not the way I am…"

I smiled faintly, reaching out to touch her hair with my right hand before absently beginning to massage her neck, "We all feel that way at times. We all want to be somebody else, but that isnīt a reason to run away."

"Maybe not…" Terri replied absently, bending her head to give my fingers better access. "But thatīs what I do. Itīs what Iīve always done."

"Has it ever solved anything?"

She let out a low laugh, shaking her head almost imperceptibly, "No, not really…"

I smiled wryly myself, continuing my massage, "Then perhaps you should consider adopting a different approach."

"Perhaps."

After a moment of silence, Terri eased herself away from my touch and got to her feet, "Well, Iīll leave you to get dressed. Iīll go prepare some breakfast in the meantime."

"Okay, but Terri…"

She turned around in the door, "Yeah?"

I looked at her, suddenly not knowing what to say. In lack of anything better I just smiled helplessly and said, "Iīm still mad at you. I still feel like I could strangle you. Iīm going to stay in London for a day or two to sort things out, and then Iīll go back home. What you do then is up to you."

Terri regarded me without speaking for a moment, then she nodded slowly, "I understand."

"What?" I responded immediately before she could walk away, eager to know what she was thinking. "What do you understand?"

She looked away for a second, then sighed and gave me a little sad smile, "That I blew it." She paused, then straightened up slightly, speaking impassively, "Well, Iīll go make tea. Take your time dressing, thereīs no hurry."

As she closed the door behind her, I was as motionless as I had been when I heard her answer to my question, three little words running through my brain again and again.

This is it… This is it… This is it…

I leaned back against the wall, pulling the covers up to my chin, my vision blurring slightly, then I closed my eyes.

Itīs over…

By the time I had finished in the bathroom and joined Terri at the breakfast table, a strange sense of calm, mixed with not a little resignation, had suffused me and the atmosphere between us was relaxed, albeit a little quiet. We were both lost in thought, eating our food without really tasting it, and what she was thinking I couldnīt tell, but I was beginning to wonder if Terri had meant what I thought she meant or if I had jumped to conclusions. To make matters worse, I wasnīt sure what I wanted her to have said. Did she think it was over? Did she expect to work things out? Did she think I believed it to be over, or what? Was she even thinking about us at all? The nagging questions were slowly driving me crazy and every time I thought I had reached a conclusion, found an answer that would satisfy me, I changed my mind and started all over.

I had come to London with the clear intention of getting an explanation from Terri and then reacting accordingly; a reaction I had halfway come to accept would mean the end of our relationship. But now I wasnīt so certain anymore, mainly because I didnīt know what I wanted. I knew I couldnīt, wouldnīt, continue down the rather bumpy road we had been heading almost from the day we met, but at the same time I was also painfully aware that in spite of all my sound reasoning, there was one minor factor I had left out of the equation. My heart.

My heart and my mind didnīt agree. And as much as each attempted to overrule the other it just wasnīt working, and it left me feeling more and more confused and unsure of myself and my feelings. Not to mention Terri. How did she fit into it all, and didnīt she have a say in the matter? Or did she lose that when she just up and left with no regard for me?

"Terri?"

She raised her head slowly, her eyes distant as they met mine. "What?"

"Why didnīt you tell me where you were? Why didnīt you at least contact me to tell you were all right?"

A pensive, troubled, slightly confused expression appeared on her face and her brow furrowed before she spoke slowly, giving me the impression that the words were barely thoughts before she uttered them, "I was afraid… how… how you would react. I knew that… that you would be angry and I didnīt know how to deal with that…"

"So you took the easy way out?" I commented, trying not to sound too sarcastic, but the anger I had believed more or less gone had begun to simmer and by the way Terri squirmed I could tell she knew it, too. "Let your brother do the dirty work for you?"

"No!" Anger flared in her eyes as they narrowed rapidly. "I never asked Alan to do anything, I never told him to interfere, he did that all by himself. In fact," she rose so quickly the chair almost toppled over, her voice growing hard, "that happens all the time, people make decisions over my head, think they know whatīs best for me. Alan, my parents, Nicola, even you!" Icy cold blue eyes bored into mine. "You come over here and donīt care whether I want you to or not, you donīt even ask me, but just announce your intentions and expect me to accept that and be happy about it."

I stared at her, rendered speechless by her outburst. Then my own anger suddenly flared and I felt adrenaline rush through me as my body prepared itself for the imminent confrontation, but then something happened and a strange, tired indifference came over me, chasing all other feelings away. "If thatīs how you really feel," I spoke very quietly, rising from the chair, "then we have nothing left to talk about, thereīs no point."

In a cool and frightfully nonchalant manner that surprised even myself, I swallowed the rest of my tea, put the cup back down on the table and spoke in a calm but firm tone, "Iīll go pack my things and be on my way. I shanīt bother you anymore. Goodbye, Terri."

I could see the shock in her eyes as I walked past her and knew she was just as stunned by the development as I, but I was wrapped up in my own hurt and couldnīt bring myself to care. She was the one who had brought this on, she was the one who had turned this into a disaster and now she would have to live with the consequences.

As I quickly closed the door behind me to escape the gaze burning into my back, I suddenly realized that she wasnīt the only one who would have to live with the consequences.

When I exited the room, Terri was gone, just as I had expected she would be. Taking a moment to write a small note to Jenny and Alan thanking them for their hospitality, I went outside and with heavy steps began to walk down the pavement towards the nearest Underground. I was halfway there, my eyes absently taking in the sight of St. Paulīs Cathedral towering at the end of the street, when I heard running footsteps behind me. Without turning around, or even slowing down, I continued until my path was blocked by Terri abruptly cutting in in front of me.

"Sarah!" she gasped, trying to catch her breath. "Where are you going?"

I looked at her, my feelings alternating wildly between anger and hopelessness, then I just shook my head slowly and walked around her, speaking over my shoulder, "Iīm going home, Terri, I told you I would as soon as a few things had been cleared up. And now they have."

"But…" She remained standing where she was for a second, then quickly caught up with me again, coming to walk beside me. "Look, Sarah, Iīm really sorry about what I said, I didnīt mean it like that. I was just in a bad mood. Please come back to the apartment with me, we still have a lot to talk about."

I paused mid step, giving her an incredulous look, "Now you want to talk? Gee, Terri, are you sure youīre feeling all right?"

Without waiting for an answer I picked up my pace and resumed my walk to the Underground. However, the Fates werenīt on my side that day and at the next traffic lights I had to wait, giving Terri plenty of opportunity to reach me again, even putting her hand on my shoulder to hold me back should the lights change before she was done.

"Sarah, please…" she spoke behind me, standing so close I could feel the heat from her body. "Iīm sorry for the way Iīve acted, for all Iīve done. Please donīt go yet, give me a chance to make it up to you."

In spite of all my good intentions and set mind, her softly spoken words brought tears to my eyes as the hurt inside me increased tenfold. I forced myself to keep staring straight ahead, ignoring all the curious looks from people walking past us, knowing that if I turned around I wouldnīt be able to walk away.

"Itīs too late, Terri."

"But I love you!" she objected almost petulantly, the grip on my shoulder tightening ever so slightly. "And you love me, at least thatīs what youīve said, but maybe that was just a lie."

That did it. Whatever Terri might have been able to achieve was lost now as the angry accusation in her voice tore through my heart, leaving it barren and cold. Turning around I met her eyes and spoke harshly, "This isnīt about love anymore, Terri, itīs about whatīs best for me. You know very well that I love you and I canīt believe you have the guts to suggest anything else. If it was-"

"But if you love me," Terri interrupted before I could finish my sentence, her eyes growing desperate as she began to realize that this time there wouldnīt be a happy outcome, "then why wonīt you give me a second chance? I know I screwed up, both when I left and this morning, but I promise I wonīt do it again. Please, Sarah, donīt go, I wonīt-"

"Terri," this time it was my turn to interrupt, "youīre missing the point." I reached up to the hand still clamped down on my shoulder and gently, but firmly removed it. "I know youīre sorry, I know that you mean it when you say that youīll never do anything like this again, but…" I faltered, but then continued, the words nearly falling over each other in their hurry to leave my lips, "Terri, youīre not good for me. I love you, but I canīt be with you anymore. I know you love me, but I canīt do this. I… I donīt know, maybe I need more stability, less second-guessing."

"I can change!" Terriīs hands moved restlessly as though she didnīt know what to do with them. "Iīll be different from now on."

I looked into the beautiful blue eyes I loved so much, my chest feeling like it was about to explode from the pressure inside it. Clearing my throat, I spoke hoarsely, having to use all my strength not to look away, but knowing I owed her that much, "Terri, how can I make you understand… itīs over. I donīt want you in my life anymore, it hurts too much. And I donīt…" I swallowed, my heart beating so frantically I was afraid it would burst, my already feeble voice fading away as I spoke the last few words, "I donīt want you… not anymore…"

Terri took a step back as if there had been a physical force in my last statement, her eyes wide open in shock and her face draining of all colour. "You… you donīt mean that… You canīt mean that, youīre different…"

"Iīm sorry, Terri," I choked out, fully aware that I had lost the battle and tears were running down my face. "But thatīs how itīs going to be, Iīm not going to change my mind. Iīm sorry." I spun around and ran away as fast as I could, incapable of looking at her for a moment longer. But as I fled, stumbling over streets and curbs, I knew, without a doubt, that I would never be able to forget the look of pain and despair I had seen in her eyes.

And the betrayal.

How the journey home was I donīt recall. At the time I hardly remembered anything except the final scene with Terri on a cold and wet March day with one of the biggest cathedrals in the world as our silent and dispassionate witness. The only reason why I managed to stay composed and calm in the plane and on the ride home in a cab was that I didnīt have the strength to cry. Or maybe I just didnīt have any tears left to shed.

By the time I locked myself into my apartment I was so exhausted and numb that I just let the bag slip from my fingers, barely making it to the couch where I fell down, curling up like a wounded animal.

How long I lay like that I donīt know, but the living room had become dark and cold before I slowly sat up, bringing my aching body into the bathroom. I turned on the hot water as high as it would go and spent a minute watching the water flow furiously from the showerhead, steam rapidly filling the cabinet shower. Then, fully clothed, I stepped inside, the instant pain from the scalding water hitting my senses like a steamroller and washing the numbness away. Just as the pain became unbearable, I added the cold water, then sank down to the bottom of the shower, wrapping my arms around myself and starting to cry quietly.

Three hours later, Paige came knocking on my door. Or maybe banging is more accurately. And she didnīt relent until I had dragged myself over and let her in. One look at my face told her all she needed to know and without a word she opened her arms, and I gratefully accepted the invitation, burying my face in her shoulder.

"Shh… hon, itīs okay… itīs okay," Paige cooed softly as she stroked my back. "Just let it out."

"Itīs over," I managed to squeeze out between sobs, my voice sounding like a strangerīs. "I told her I couldnīt do it anymore, I told her I didnīt want her in my life."

Paige only nodded, apparently fully capable of deciphering my rushed and frantic speech. As my crying started to cease, she gently led me over to the couch, pulling me down to sit beside her. Putting an arm around me, she reached into her pocket with the other and pulled out a couple of Kleenex, handing me one.

"Thanks," I said, smiling through tears. "Youīre a lifesaver."

Paige smiled faintly in return, commenting softly as she resumed the stroking of my back, "I seem to remember you doing the same for me on several occasions, itīs about time I return the favour."

"Yeah, well," I wiped my eyes, slowly starting to get my emotions under control. "This is one favour I could have done without. No offence," I smiled at her. "None taken," she returned my smile, giving me a fresh Kleenex. "This isnīt exactly something Iīve been counting the days to get to do. I always hoped itīd never be necessary."

"I should have listened to you, you saw it coming all along, but I was too blind! And too damn stupid!" Abruptly I rose from the couch, walking out into the kitchen.

"You werenīt stupid, Sarah, or blind," Paige spoke wearily from the living room as I opened the fridge to take out a bottle of wine. "You were in love and wanted things to work out."

Her words made me pause, then I put the bottle down on the counter and walked over to stand in the kitchen door. Meeting Paigeīs questioning gaze, I said quietly, "Iīm still in love, Paige."

She smiled sadly, suddenly looking a lot older than her thirty-two years, "I know, sweetie, trust me, I know."

"It hurts so much…" The hitch in my voice and moistening of my eyes were more than enough to tell Paige that I needed another hug, and she quickly got to her feet and walked over to put her arms around me. "I donīt know what to do," I whispered into her hair. "I hurt so much… I miss her… I donīt want it to be over."

"I know, I know…" Paige listened patiently to my ramblings until I had calmed down, then asked softly, "How did Terri take it?"

I sniffed a little, leaning back to see her face, "Not well. She was pretty upset."

"What did she say?"

"Well, she didnīt really have time to say anything," I spoke dryly, gently easing myself out of Paigeīs embrace to return to the kitchen. "Because I turned on my heels and fled like a coward the second I had told her."

"You-" Paige stopped herself, watching in silence as I walked past her to the couch, bringing the wine and two glasses. She continued to watch as I poured us each a glass of wine, then spoke thoughtfully, "Thatīs not like you, Sarah, youīre one of the bravest people I know."

I smiled bitterly to no one in particular, taking a small sip of the wine, "Maybe… just not this time. This time I bailed out."

"The way Terri usually does…?"

"Yeah…" The smile was gone, but the bitterness was still evident in my voice. "I guess for once I beat her to it…"

Paige sighed deeply, then came over to sit down beside me. Taking her glass, she emptied it in one big gulp, then poured herself another. Leaning back in the couch, she studied me for a moment then said, "I know it hurts right now, Sarah, and I know this isnīt what you want to hear, but itīll pass. Itīll get worse and then itīll get better. And…" She hesitated, then concluded gently, "And maybe itīs for the best. Maybe itīs good it ended before it got any worse."

I let out a humourless laugh, "I think itīs a little late for that, Paige, I donīt think it can get any worse than this."

Paige was about to respond, but was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. We both looked at each other, then at our watches. It was long past midnight. The prospect of talking with anybody now was more than I could bear and Paige, recognizing the reluctance on my face, got to her feet and went over to answer it.

"If itīs Terri," I spoke quickly before she raised the receiver to her ear, "tell her Iīm sleeping - no wait…" I interrupted myself, not wanting Paige to lie and knowing that Terri would see right through it anyway. "Just tell her that I donīt want to talk to her. Not tonight."

Paige nodded, then spoke into the phone, "Hello? No, Iīm sorry she canīt come to the phone right now…"

Whoever was on the other end apparently wasnīt going to take no for an answer and Paige was silent for a very long time, listening. Then slowly she covered the mouthpiece with her hand and turned around to look at me, the expression on her face very odd. "Sarah," she said quietly, holding the receiver out towards me. "I think you should take this call after all."

"Why?" I rose uncertainly, puzzled and alarmed by the sound of her voice. "Who is it?"

"Itīs… itīs Terriīs brother." Paige was staring intensely at the receiver, looking like she could drop it any second.

"Alan?" I took a step forward, conflicting emotions running through me. "What does he want?"

"Itīs about Terri, sheīs in the hospital."

"The hospital?" I stared at Paige in confusion, not having expected that answer at all and unsure what to do. "Why?"

Paige raised her head a little, meeting my eyes again, then said quietly, "Terriīs in the intensive care unit, Sarah… She… she tried to kill herself. If it hadnīt been for her brother she would have succeeded…"

Episode 31

Some say that there are events in your life that you will never forget no matter how much time passes - events that make a small nick in you, make you a little less certain and change you and who you are forever.

That happened to me the night Terri attempted suicide.

There are concepts too incomprehensible and too terrible to grasp, no matter how true they in reality are, and that was the feeling I was left with when, very late the next day, I arrived at the hospital where Terri was, and was met by her brother, who told me what had taken place. Or what they assumed had taken place, since Terri had refused to speak about it ever since she gained consciousness a couple of hours before.

"Iīm pretty sure it wasnīt planned," Alan spoke softly, gratefully gulping down the cup of coffee I had fetched from one of the hospitalīs vending machines. His face was drawn and his eyes bloodshot and I wondered absently when he had last slept. Probably around the same time I did. "I mean, I donīt think she decided to kill herself the moment you left. I know my sister, most of the things she does are spur-of-the-moment impulsive and spontaneous reactions without thought of the consequences."

"Yes," I managed to smile weakly. "That sounds like Terri all right."

Alan smiled palely in return, then gestured to two chairs placed against the wall opposite Terriīs room, indicating we should take a seat. I had had a quick peek inside when I first arrived, but Terri had been sleeping and her parents had been in there so I hadnīt wanted to intrude.

For some reason I had the feeling they wouldnīt be happy to see me.

"Are you here alone?"

"Um, no," I shook my head imperceptibly, trying to clear my mind of the conflicting thoughts racing through it. "A friend of mine is here, too, she is checking us into a hotel nearby so we have somewhere to stay."

"Good," Alan smiled again, slowly bringing his hand up to rub his forehead, his movements tired and absentminded. "Iīm glad."

We fell silent, both of us staring blankly at the floor, paying the nurses and doctors rushing past us no heed. Then I cleared my throat and asked the question I had wanted to ask ever since the fateful phone call the night before. "What did she do?"

Alan remained motionless for a few seconds then turned his head to look into my eyes, "She slit her wrists. Cut open the veins and tried to get deep enough to slice the artery as well." He sighed deeply, looking away again, "I guess she was afraid the blood would coagulate too quickly otherwise."

I closed my eyes trying to ward off the images his words had created in my mind, but it didnīt help and I began to feel sick. Taking a deep breath, I asked in a carefully controlled tone, "You found her?"

"Yes," Alanīs voice was as calm as mine, void of any trace of emotion. "I was home early, wanted to surprise Jenny by making dinner. I noticed Terriīs jacket on the kitchen table and I saw your note, and…"

I turned my head towards him, but he didnīt look my way, "And?"

"And I just… I donīt know… Just got this feeling that something was wrong." He was silent for a moment, then continued quickly, "I knocked on the door to her room, but there was no answer and when I opened there was no one inside. Then I noticed light coming from under the bathroom door."

I swallowed, too easily picturing everything, and my nausea was growing worse.

"There…" Alan cleared his throat a couple of times, his voice suddenly a little rusty. "There was a lot of blood. It looked very… well, like something you would see in the movies. Her jeans were soaked, she had just let… just… Anyway," he cleared his throat again. "She was lying huddled against the wall, her face was white as a sheet. I… I thought I was too late, that… that she was dead… Then I saw she was still breathing and I managed to find her pulse, and then called for an ambulance."

"For… for how long do you think she had been lying like that?" As much as I dreaded to know, I needed an answer as well. I needed to know exactly when Terri had made the decision to end her life.

"Some time, but not that long. If she had cut herself right after you left she would have been dead long before I got home."

I nodded to myself, biting my lower lip hard in an attempt to regain some control, control I was afraid I could lose any moment. "Did… Did Terri know you would be home early?"

Alan shook his head, finally meeting my eyes again, "No, she didnīt. It was a coincidence, I could have been gone for several more hours."

I acknowledged his words, trying to smile a little to convey my gratitude, but my composure was unravelling too fast and I could feel the beginning of tears in my eyes. "Sheīs going to be all right, isnīt she?" I whispered nearly inaudibly, wiping my eyes on the back of my hand.

"Yeah, she will." Alan stared at his hands, appearing to be far, far away. "Her heart stopped just as we arrived at the hospital, but she was quickly revived and aside from the scars there shouldnīt be any permanent injury."

"More scars," I shook my head slowly. "As if she doesnīt have enough already."

Alan looked at me in surprise, then realization hit and he gave me a little smile, "Yes, I know. Sheīs always been a bit of a wild one."

"Alan…" I tried to hold his gaze, but after a brief struggle I had to let go and looked down at the floor. "Do you think that…" I hesitated, feeling like I was about to choke on the sentence. "Do you think that I…" I faltered again, unable to continue. Alan let out a low sigh and reached out to put a hand on my shoulder, but before he could say anything I asked, "Why would she do something like this? Why? Why would she just give up like that? Why… why would she just… give up?"

"Well, Sarah…" Alan sighed deeply, moving his hand from my shoulder to slowly run it through his wayward locks. "Itīs a long story and Iīm sorry that you have to find out like this, but in my family, or more precisely my-"

"Alan!" a sharp voice cut off whatever Alan had wanted to say and we simultaneously looked up. "Do you know who the doctor who examined Terri was? I would like to speak to him."

"I believe it was Dr. Rosenbaum, Mum," Alan answered tiredly, getting to his feet. "Iīll go find him, he should still be here. Sarah…" He smiled briefly at me then made his way down the corridor, leaving me alone with Terriīs mother.

Unsure of what to do, but not comfortable remaining seated I rose, standing awkwardly in front of her. She studied me silently, her gaze unwavering. Her face was as exhausted and tired looking as her sonīs, but there was an inner strength, a hardness, which I hadnīt detected in Alan.

"Ms. Kingston…" she suddenly said, her voice very cool. "I heard you were here." Somehow she made it sound like an accusation and although I knew better, her words added to the already heavy layers of guilt I had been feeling from the second I heard what had happened. "Why is that?"

"I…" I tried to get my tongue to work properly, but the steely glare directed my way was making it very hard and I began to feel a strong urge to defend myself. The notion made me angry and I straightened up, saying firmly, "Iīm here because someone I care a great deal about is hospitalised."

"Oh yes…" Fiona Cavanagh spoke derisively, "Care... Well, Ms. Kingston, donīt you think your caring has done enough? My daughter came close to dying tonight because of you. If thatīs what happens to people you care about, then Iīd very much prefer it if you stayed the hell away from her. Terri doesnīt need someone like you in her life, she has problems enough of her own."

"Look, Mrs. Cavanagh," I spoke as calmly as possible, trying to suppress my growing anger. And guilt. "I understand youīre upset, I know what Terri did was terrible and it breaks my heart to think of it, but I donīt think itīs fair to-."

"Ms. Kingston." Never in my life had I heard such an icy and hateful tone of voice and I subconsciously took a step back. "I donīt care what you think! I donīt care if you think itīs fair or not. My daughter tried to kill herself because of you, because of the way you treated her. How could you!"

"Mrs. Cavanagh," I managed to get out, torn between wanting to strike her and flee from the hospital. "I love Terri! I would never do anything to hurt her. What happened wasnīt my fault. It was Terriīs decision, not mine." Even to my ears, my words sounded feeble and inadequate, and Fiona clearly wasnīt mollified.

"Oh? So you love her and would never do anything to hurt her? Well, Ms. Kingston, if thatīs true then why did Terri try to kill herself? Why did she quit university? Why did she flee to London if it wasnīt to get away from you?" She looked me square in the eye, her face hardening. "It seems to me that ever since you came into her life things have been going downhill. My daughter was perfectly happy with life before she met you, and I canīt believe you have the audacity to deny any involvement."

"Those were all Terriīs decisions," I spoke a little harsher than intended. "I have tried to be there for her from day one. It was Terri who wouldnīt-."

"Ms. Kingston," Fiona interrupted curtly, turning her head when she heard the sound of a door opening, "save your breath, Iīm not interested in hearing your explanations. All I want is for you to leave and never show your face here again."

"But-"

"Sarah…" a gentle, but very tired voice suddenly spoke and I looked over, seeing Terriīs father stand in the door to her room. "Maybe itīs better you leave."

"But…" I repeated helplessly, more or less having expected the reaction I got from Terriīs mother but not thinking that her father would share the sentiment. "I only wish to see her, just for a few minutes. I promise I wonīt stay too long."

Fiona stepped over to stand next to her husband, almost as if she wanted to make sure I didnīt try to force my way into the room. "Iīm sorry, but that isnīt possible, only family members are allowed access and last time I checked you didnīt belong to that category."

"Fiona," Patrick hushed softly, putting a calming hand on his wifeīs arm, "thereīs no need for hostilities. Sarah will leave now. And so should we, itīs late and we both need to rest. As does Terri, sheīs in no condition to receive further visitors tonight anyway."

I stared at him in disbelief, unwilling to believe my ears. I had thought we understood each other, had become friends when we met during Christmas. He had to know how I felt about Terri, he had to know that I would never intentionally hurt or upset her. And most importantly, he had to know that loving Terri wasnīt without its complications.

With tears stinging my eyes, I was about to throw all dignity overboard and resort to pleading, ready to do or promise anything that would grant me access to Terri, when Patrick, apparently reading my mind, shook his head imperceptibly and said quietly, "Sarah, please… I think itīs better for all involved if you just leave. Terriīs out of danger and is resting now, thereīs no need for you to stay."

I looked at him, trying to remember the last time I had felt such a strong and out-of-control hatred against any living being. Then I pulled myself together and nodded briefly, forcing myself to keep my voice even, "If thatīs what you want… Tell Alan I had to go and if Terri wakes up then… then tell her I was here, okay?" I met Patrickīs eyes, knowing Fiona would never fulfil my request. "Will you do that?"

"Iīll tell her," Patrick replied softly after a moment of silence, ignoring the angry shake of his wifeīs head and the exasperated look shot his way.

"Thank you." I held his gaze, willing him not to forget, then I turned around and walked away, the sound of their arguing voices fading in the distance as I left the hospital and stepped out into the cold and rainy night.

I had promised Paige I would call from the hospital with any news, but since there hadnīt really been anything new to tell I hadnīt done so. Although I knew perfectly well she would be pacing the floor of our hotel room by now and that I ought to at least call her and tell I was on my way, I instead began to walk slowly along the water-glistening pavement, my hands tucked deeply into my coat pockets and my head bent to shield me from the worst of the rain. I was too tired to really think and too exhausted to consider what I was doing, so for a long time I just walked with no goal or purpose, with fragments of thoughts, feelings, and images running through my mind in a slow but never-ending stream.

I was so far away in my head that I nearly continued walking when a voice spoke, "Miss? Is everything all right?" I looked up and then noticed that a cab had pulled up to the curb and a friendly, but slightly concerned looking cabby was studying me through his halfway open window. "Are you lost?"

"Lost?" I stared at him, momentarily stunned that he was able to read my mind. Then I realized he was talking about my geographical position and nothing else, and I gave him a little smile, "Nah, not directly, but if youīre free I wouldnīt mind hiring you. Itīs starting to get a little cold."

He smiled at me, revealing a missing front tooth which made him look oddly young although he was probably in his late fifties, and reached over to open the passenger door for me, saying pleasantly as I climbed inside, "You look cold, Miss. You shouldnīt be out at this time of night, especially not alone. This world can be a very nasty place to be at times."

"Yes, it can," I agreed with a tired sigh and then gave him the name of the hotel before sinking back into the seat, mindlessly following the windscreen wipers in their futile battle against the heavy raindrops.

I donīt know whether some taxi drivers are just not naturally talkative or if my driver just saw I wasnīt in the mood for talking, but for a long time we drove through the streets in silence, the only sound being the low commentary of what I gradually identified as a cricket game.

"Recorded," the driver informed me when he noticed me search for the radio. "I got all me favourite matches on tape." He grinned at me, "The wife thinks Iīm crazy, but I always say that either youīre into something a hundred and ten percent or youīre not into it at all. Thereīs no middle ground."

I pondered his words for a moment, then smiled, "Yeah, youīre probably right. Itīs all or nothing."

"Exactly," he gave me a big pleased smile, apparently glad to have met someone who seemed to share his opinion. We continued past a few blocks then he cleared his throat and asked, "So, what was the young lady doing outside on her own at this time of night if you donīt mind me asking? I can hear youīre not from here."

"No, Iīm not and I was just getting some air," I replied vaguely, unsure of what to think of his intrusion into my personal matters. "I have been visiting a friend in the hospital."

"Ay…" he made a few sympathetic sounds as we turned a corner. "Thatīs never nice. Is it serious?"

"You could say that. She tried to kill herself."

I donīt know if I said it because I wanted to shock him, to provoke him and force some kind of reaction, or if I was just trying to make everything that had happened seem more real to myself. However, if the former had been my intent it didnīt appear to have any effect whatsoever as he didnīt even blink, but just shook his head slowly, "Ay… that is a sad thing when people donīt want to live anymore. I hope your friend will be fine."

Suddenly I felt a lump in my throat and had to swallow a couple of times, "Yeah, so do I." Not completely sure why, I felt compelled to continue, "You see… sheīs very important to me… my friend. And I want to help, but itīs so hard because neither she nor her family will let me and I feel like Iīm constantly banging my head against a brick wall."

"Whatīs wrong with her?"

I had been about to speak, but the softly spoken question stopped me dead in my tracks and I turned my head to look at him. "I… I… donīt know." The frustration was more than obvious in my voice and he glanced at me quickly, giving me an encouraging smile. "I think that… that maybe…" I trailed off, angry with myself for not being able to properly convey what I was thinking, but then realized that the problem was I didnīt know what I was thinking. "I guess sheīs… sheīs just not happy," I finished quietly, unable to come up with anything else.

"Well, if you absolutely have to kill yourself," the driver spoke thoughtfully, coming to a halt in front of my hotel, "then I guess that any reason is as good as the next one, but not being happy is probably one of the better."

"Itīs the cowardīs way out," I retorted angrily, rummaging through my purse for the fare. "Itīs selfish and cruel, with no regard for all the other people involved. When you try to kill yourself itīs not just about you, about your pain and hurt, it affects everybody, everybody who cares for you and wants the best for you. And if you succeed you may find peace, but what about the rest of us? What about those left behind who can spend the rest of their lives wondering if there was something they could have or should have done? If you kill yourself you may end your pain, but for the rest of us itīs only beginning."

I tossed him the bills and was about to step out when he reached out and gently but firmly held me back, "Hey, Miss, wait… I didnīt mean it like that, I donīt approve of suicide in any way, I just meant that there are reasons more justifiable than others to kill yourself for." He smiled experimentally when he saw my anger lessen, "Iīm sorry if it didnīt come across that way, but thatīs what I meant to say."

I took a deep breath, letting his words sink in, then smiled apologetically, "No, Iīm sorry, I shouldnīt have blown up like that. Itīs just… itīs a rather sensitive subject for me right now."

"No wonder," he handed me my change, but I gestured he should keep it and he nodded his thanks. "I hope your friend will get well soon," he spoke out of the window as I stepped around the car and up onto the pavement. "And next time she gets a silly idea like that tell her that once youīre dead youīll never know what it couldīve been like."

I smiled involuntarily, turning around halfway to look at him, "Shall do."

"Good!" he shouted after me as I walked into the hotel. "And if that doesnīt help, sit her down and get her to explain in detail what makes her think she has the right to decide over life and death. That requires wisdom man doesnīt have, even if itīs only one life, your life… - because you canīt afford to be wrong!"

And neither can anybody else, I thought to myself as the doors swung close behind me, effectively silencing both the rain and my friendly cricket-loving taxi driver.

"Are you going to keep that on?"

I raised my head to glance at Paige, who was curled up on her side in the bed beside me, her eyes lingering on the ring I had been staring at for the last ten minutes. "I donīt know," I replied uncertainly, staring briefly at the ring again before looking back to Paige for advice. "What do you think?"

"Hmm…" She moved a little closer and reached down to bring my hand up to her face. "Itīs very pretty."

"Yes, it is." In spite of the darkness in the hotel room, the delicate ring still seemed to reflect light, causing small glimpses of silver to flicker across our faces.

"You could keep it in a necklace?"

"Yes, I could," I gently withdrew my hand and slipped it beneath the covers away from Paigeīs gaze.

I had arrived at the hotel a little past four in the morning and Paige had been slowly going mad from worry, even calling the hospital only to hear from Alan that I left there hours ago. Fortunately, ordering room service on my credit card had helped soothe a little of her displeasure and after a few heartfelt apologies she forgave me and changed into comforting best friend mode, something I was in great need of. We had spoken very little and then gone to bed, but after having heard me toss and turn for the hundredth time, she had slipped out of her bed and into mine, giving me a little smile and saying that you could never get too old for a sleepover. She had proceeded to ask me all the questions I had been avoiding or to which I had no answer. Whether I was going to try to see Terri again, if I thought they would let me visit her later, how long I would stay in London, if Terri might contact me herself, and, most importantly, what I would do next.

"I mean, itīs still over between you, right? As terrible as it was what happened, it doesnīt change anything?"

"No…" I shook my head. "It just makes me even more sure I made the right decision. I canīt spend the rest of my life guarding my words or actions out of fear what Terri might do, thatīs not a life, and itīs not my responsibility either."

"No, thatīs true." Paige searched my face in the dark for a few moments, then suddenly said, "Do you feel guilty?"

"What?" I stared at her, unpleasantly startled by the direct question. "What do you mean?"

Paige bit her lip, apparently looking for appropriate words, but then decided to keep it simple and clarified, "I mean, do you feel like youīre to blame? That it was your fault Terri did what she did?"

"Are you saying that it is?!" I sat up quickly, anger coursing through me. "Well, itīs not! Itīs not my fault Terri decided to kill herself. Maybe I had something to do with her decision, but in the end it was exactly that, her decision! Not mine!"

Paige attempted to speak, but I cut her off, "I donīt care what any of you think! I donīt care if Terri herself thinks itīs my fault! Itīs not!" At some point during my outburst tears had begun to fall, but I didnīt care and continued heatedly, "It was Terri who cut herself, not me! It was her hand with the razorblade, not mine!" All my anger and passion suddenly left me again and I looked at Paige in despair, finishing quietly, "Not mine…"

"All I asked was if you felt guilty," Paige spoke softly, reaching out and covering one of my clenched fists with her hand. "And I think you just gave me your answer."

"I…" My head dropped and I studied our joined hands on top of the covers. "If I hadnīt said what I did, if I hadnīt-"

"Hush," Paige moved up to sit back against the headboard, gently pulling me up to sit beside her. "I donīt want to hear such nonsense, Sarah. Youīre not to blame and donīt let anybody give you any stupid ideas. You have nothing to feel guilty about."

I turned to look at her, encouraged but not entirely convinced by her words. "But why do I feel so bad then? Why do I feel so guilty if Iīm not to blame?"

"Because itīs love and it sucks," Paige stated vehemently, putting her head down on my shoulder and snuggling close as though she was the one in need of comfort.

Despite myself, her gusto made me laugh, "Is that the scientific explanation?"

Paige smiled a little sheepishly, then said with a shrug, "Itīs the only explanation."

We sat in companionable silence for a couple of minutes, watching the numbers on the alarm clock moved forward mercilessly, then Paige shifted slightly and said, "Tell me something about her."

I had been lost in thought and responded automatically, "Who?"

"Terri. Tell me something about her I donīt know."

"Um…" I paused. "I think I have told you all about her already, there canīt be much left."

"There must be something," Paige objected, poking me lightly in the ribs with her finger. "Doesnīt have to be anything groundbreaking, just something I donīt know."

"Well…" I looked straight ahead, following the shadows on the wall as I contemplated her request. I was well aware that Paige was trying to get my mind off anything having to do with suicide or guilt complexes, but as much as I appreciated her efforts I wasnīt sure I had the energy to start reminiscing now. Still, I felt she deserved something for trying and searching my brain, I spoke hesitantly, "Sheīs the only one I know who reads as fast as I do, but she still hates it when I read over her shoulder. I have succeeded on more than one occasion in getting her to throw a newspaper or magazine across the room in exasperation."

"Really…" Paige let out a noise that clearly indicated what she thought of that annoying habit herself and I smiled inwardly, having expected that reaction from her.

"She also has the most schizophrenic sleep patterns. Sometimes sheīll stay awake until early morning, if she goes to bed at all, other times sheīll go to bed at nine and get up again to go running at five."

"Sheīs insane," Paige, whose only involvement with jogging was a constant guilty conscience, mumbled with conviction. "Getting up at such an unearthly hour to go running canīt possibly be healthy."

"No arguments here," I replied, fondly recalling many a similar conversation between Terri and myself. "Anyway, it wasnīt so bad. She was always careful not to wake me when she left and sometimes when she returned sheīd make me breakfast in bed."

"Nice." Paige lifted her head from my shoulder to look at me. "She would do that?"

"Yes." I smiled broadly, "Of course sometimes sheīd make me the main course."

Paige stared at me for a heartbeat or two, then commented with a sigh, putting her head back down, "I hate you, you know."

"Thatīs what friends are for," I answered with a grin, but inside I wasnīt so cheerful. Talking about Terri was bringing back all the good times we had had and as much as I preferred thinking about those compared to the later events, it was beginning to take its toil on me.

"So," Paige asked, stifling a yawn as sleep finally seemed to grasp at least one of us. "Once you had been sufficiently ravished, what then?"

"Well," I cleared my throat softly, hoping Paige wouldnīt notice the slight tremor in my voice, "it varied. If we had time we would stay in bed, not really doing anything, just being close together. Terri always enjoyed stuff like that, like counting beauty spots on my skin or listening to the small trivial things I had to tell from work or what you and I had been up to. Sometimes she would tell me things, often things she had heard of or seen which she felt strongly about for some reason, nothing personal as such more like issues, but it always helped me get a better understanding of her. I learned a lot more about her that way than I think she ever realized."

I cleared my throat again and continued, "If it was a weekday we would have to get up, but that was easier said than done as she enjoyed thinking up any excuse to get me to stay a little longer." I smiled faintly, "She was ruthless, nearly tackled me across the bed once, claiming that since I was late already I might as well stay at home."

"What did you do?"

I smiled a little wider, "Fortunately, Terriīs always been rather ticklish and I have never been above fighting dirty."

"Thatīs my girl," Paige mumbled nearly inaudibly and I knew she was already halfway into dreamland. But then she suddenly straightened up, her eyes serious as they met mine and her voice very quiet, "Iīm sorry I never got to know Terri better, Sarah."

I tried to brush it off, tried to say that it didnīt matter, that it was mainly Terriīs doing that they hadnīt been getting along, but I couldnīt. Instead I managed to smile a little and said softly, "Iīm sorry, too."

We didnīt speak anymore after that and Paige soon fell asleep whereas I remained awake, waiting for the daylight to arrive to announce the beginning of yet another day.

Episode 32

Around 10 a.m. Paige went out for a morning stroll and a newspaper - although I suspect she was just interested in checking whether the cute receptionist with the brown George Clooney eyes was still at the desk - and less than ten minutes later, it knocked on my door. I was still in a bathrobe, having just recently returned from a half an hour shower which I needed to feel just remotely human again, but thinking it was Paige I went over to open the door, muttering to myself why that woman never could remember to bring a key.

However, it wasnīt Paige, it was Alan, looking scruffy and unshaven, with dark circles under his eyes, and wearing the same clothes as he did the day before.

"Morning," he spoke, his voice hoarse and he coughed once or twice before continuing. "I hope I didnīt wake you up."

I didnīt find it necessary to tell him that I had been awake for the last several hours and only stepped back, allowing him entrance into the hotel room. "No, Iīm awake." I walked over to the trolley carrying Paigeīs and my half-eaten breakfast room service had brought by, finding a clean cup. "You look like you could use some coffee?"

He gave me a smile full of gratitude as he stood uncertainly in the room, fiddling with an umbrella and looking around as if he didnīt really know what he was doing there. "Yes, please, that would be wonderful."

I gestured for him to sit down and he did so with a low sigh, leaning his head against the back of the couch, bloodshot eyes staring at the ceiling. Pouring a cup for myself, I joined him on the couch, handing him the cup of coffee and watching in amazement as he gulped it down in a few seconds.

"Occupational hazard," he remarked dryly when he noticed my gaze. "Mere weeks from the moment you enter medicine school, you begin poisoning your body with caffeine and nicotine just to keep going and stay awake during night shifts."

I smiled briefly, taking a more controlled sip of my own coffee, "As a future doctor, shouldnīt you know better?"

He shrugged, his eyes slowly trailing forward and then to the left to stare out of the window, "Maybe. I guess being aware of the risks doesnīt necessarily make you heed them."

"No, guess not…" I waited a couple seconds, mainly out of respect and understanding that he needed a moment to himself, but then I couldnīt wait any longer and asked, "Is everything okay with Terri?"

He turned to look at me abruptly, almost as if woken from a trance, "Oh, sorry, yes, yes, sheīs fine. No change from yesterday, you donīt have to worry." He reached out to put his empty cup on the tiny table in front of the couch, speaking as he did so, "You probably wonder why Iīm here?"

"Well, yes, if itīs not about Terri…?"

"Actually it is." He leaned back in the couch again, turning slightly to face me. "We were interrupted last night in the hospital and I apologize for anything my mother might have said."

"Sheīs been under a lot of stress," I replied noncommittally, staring down at the brown liquid in my cup. "Itīs understandable sheīs upset."

"Yeah," Alan spoke to himself, and I was surprised to hear what I thought was just the slightest hint of bitterness in his voice. "Anyway," he shifted again, a slightly nervous gesture that reminded me of Terri. "Iīm here because I could imagine you might have a few questions and because I want to tell you that no matter what you feel, itīs not your fault what happened."

"I know that, but-"

"No buts," he interrupted gently, giving me a knowing look. "I have been here before, with my cousin, I know the thoughts that run through your head. I know how it feels."

He closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead, and I said quietly, "Iīm sorry you had to experience it again."

Alan didnīt react immediately and for a moment I thought he was asleep, then his eyes fluttered open and he studied me for a long time before speaking wearily, "Me too…" He smiled humourlessly, his face contracting slightly like he was in pain, "But itīs not really that surprising. You see, suicide runs in the family."

"It does?" I looked at him in surprise, trying to see if he was serious or just joking in a very bad fashion.

"Yes." He took a deep breath, folding his hands in his lap and staring intensely at them. Then he took another deep breath and began to speak, "We have a history of mental illness in our family, nothing too serious, nothing that canīt be treated, just depressions, various degrees of emotional instability and so on. It seems to be hereditary from my motherīs side, and nine out of ten times it only affects the women and sometimes not even then. Jason was one of the rare cases when a man was affected, or at least we think so. Nobody had noticed anything unusual with his behaviour and his death came as a great shock to us all. But we think he was depressed and just never spoke about it. Openness has never been a strong suit with us."

He fell silent, flexing his fingers nervously, waiting for me to digest the information. A few pieces suddenly fell into place and I recalled the great number of pill bottles I had discovered in Terriīs home when I was there for Christmas. Exhaling inaudibly, I asked very softly, "And Terri?"

"Terri…" he paused, looking up to meet my eyes before continuing quietly. "Terri has the disposition. Sheīs extremely volatile and prone to isolate herself and withdraw when thereīs something sheīs unable to deal with. But Iīm not sure to which degree to be honest. I think that whatever her state of mind is has more to do with our mother than anything else."

"Your mother?"

"Yes. Mumīs manic-depressive and that wouldnīt be so bad if only she would always take her medication, but…" He faltered, now looking extremely uncomfortable, and in spite of my curiosity and desperate desire to know more, I reached out and put my hands over his, giving them a light squeeze, "You donīt have to tell me if you donīt want to."

"I know," he smiled palely, "but I think you should know." He cleared his throat, speaking quickly, seemingly in an attempt to get it over with fast, "When Terri and I were children our father was rarely home. He was putting in long hours at the hospital and wasnīt there much to have an eye on things. Mum can have long periods of feeling wonderful, times when sheīs on top of the world, but it never lasts and because she often failed to take her medication we got to bear the brunt."

I frowned, asking in puzzlement, "How could she, a doctor herself, forget to take her medicine if it affected her life so much?"

"Iīm not sure she forgot," Alanīs eyes gleamed with a strange light and his voice was angry, but then all trace of being distraught vanished. Carefully withdrawing his hands from mine, his tone matter-of-fact, he went on, "Terri was very young when she learned of our familyīs medical history and ever since sheīs been terrified that the same will happen to her. I know that Jasonīs death shook her to the core, not just because she loved him, but because she saw it as sign that she was next. She and Jason were very alike in every way."

I was about to ask a question, but he held up a hand, not wanting me to interrupt just yet. "Mum and Terri have never gotten along very well, I donīt know why, but thatīs the way itīs always been. I have always been her favourite whereas Terri is Dadīs. He would usually step in when things got too bad, but he was so seldom home. When Mumīs depressed she doesnīt just shut the world out or lies paralysed in bed, she has a tendency to become cruel, and it was always Terri who got to feel it and with Dad away there was no one to stop it. And sometimes… Well, sometimes it didnīt help even if he was there. Terri may be his favourite, but nobody is more important to him than Mum. He loves her more than everything, even his own children."

This time I had no doubt. There was a clear, but also resigned bitterness behind his words and for a second I had a vision of a frightened boy, hiding in his room because his mother was crazy and his father wasnīt around to help.

"Are you serious?" I simply had to ask the question, unable to understand why someone could not intervene if their children were suffering, even if the one causing the hurt was their own spouse. Especially if the one causing the hurt was their own spouse.

"Yes." Alan spoke sadly, shaking his head as though he couldnīt believe it either. "Even when Mum was at her worst, even when she was self-destructive and hurting everyone around her, Dad would tell us to be understanding and patient. That she didnīt mean the things she said. I have always been stronger than Terri in that regard, I knew Mum was sick and as hard as it was, I tried not to take anything personally. Terri, however, wasnīt capable of the same. It was also harder on her because Mum for some reason always went after her. Donīt get me wrong, our mother loves us both, but there are times - or were - itīs not so bad anymore, when she was so wrapped up in her own pain and misery that she wanted the entire world to suffer with her. And Terri… well, being Terri, was always an easy target. She did what she could to please Mum, tried to change every single thing about herself she was told was wrong or unacceptable, but when she at last couldnīt take it anymore she just… went away… sometimes both literally and figuratively, and itīs been like that ever since."

"I have seen that…" I spoke thoughtfully to myself, focusing on that singular line of thought to avoid succumbing to the intense anger that was building inside me. I didnīt want to think of Terriīs mother now, or what I wanted to do to her. I would have to deal with that later. "Her going `awayī I mean. She just disappears into herself."

"I know," Alan said regretfully. "Sheīs been doing that since she was twelve years old."

"How did she ever bring up the courage to tell she was gay?"

He shrugged lightly, turning away from me again and staring straight ahead, "I think it was Nicolaīs doing." He was about to continue, but then remembering something inquired abruptly, "You know who she is, right?"

"Yes." I suddenly noticed that my coffee was cold and put the cup away. "I know who Nicola is."

He nodded in acknowledgement, going back to where he left off, "Anyway, Terri was in love with her, I think there might even have been something between them, Iīm not sure, Iīve never asked. But at a time they were very close and I know Nicola was furious with our mother, often trying to get Terri to rebel against her. Of course Terri never would, she even defended her. Then when Nicola went away something changed and Terri got very reckless, didnīt seem to care what Mum thought anymore, and my guess is she told her of her sexuality just out of spite. To provoke some kind of reaction on Mumīs behalf."

"And did she react?"

"Yes…" Alan hesitated, a look of worry and speculation crossing his face. "At least she must have. I donīt know exactly what took place because I wasnīt living at home anymore, but Terri has never wanted to speak of it to me. Soon afterwards she left home as well and I donīt think the subject has ever been mentioned again, not directly anyway."

"What does your father think about it?" Somehow I couldnīt imagine Patrick having as hard a time accepting Terri as his wife apparently had. "Didnīt he support her?"

"Not enough, and I know that really hurt Terri. Basically, I think he just wants to forget about it. Not because he has a problem with it himself, Dadīs never cared about such things, but because Mum is so against it. Iīm not sure, but I suspect Mum reckons Terri is just claiming to be gay to get back at her." He sighed and was silent for a while, then turned his head towards me and said quietly, "Iīd wish I had been there when she told them, at least I would have been able to back her up. But we were never that close and Terriīs not the kind of person to ask for support." He faltered, then said, "You know what she told me once?"

"No," I answered, patiently waiting for him to elaborate. I was trying hard to concentrate and pay attention to everything he was saying, but the more he said, the more my thoughts strayed to Terri, and my wish to see her and hear her voice was becoming nearly unbearable.

"She told me that she would never ask anybody for help, no matter for what or how much she needed it. She said that she knew in her heart that she wouldnīt be able to get the words past her lips - she was drunk, we both were," he interposed quickly when he saw the look of surprise on my face, "otherwise she would never have spoken so openly about herself, but I still remember it clearly. She looked me straight in the eye and calmly said that she had absolutely no doubt that one day she wouldnīt be able to pull it off anymore, and she would end up taking on more than she could handle. She was so certain…" Alanīs eyes were lost in memories, speaking softly to himself. "It was like she was only waiting for it to happen, waiting for the moment when she would finally find out if it would kill her or cure her. It was awful. There she was, my gentle and sensitive little sister, still only a goddamn teenager, and she was scaring the hell out of me."

He stopped speaking and averted his face, a heavy silence filling the room. I swallowed, not sure what I was feeling, whether I was even capable of feeling anything anymore. Then, after what have must been several long minutes, I spoke, not loudly or forcefully, but in a kind of tone that told I wasnīt going to take no for an answer, "I want to see her. Is there a time when your parents wonīt be there and Iīll be able to slip inside?"

"I donīt know." Alan seemed suddenly both irresolute and a little lost. "This morning they were trying to have her released to take her home, but I know Doctor Rosenbaum is very reluctant and would like her to remain under observation to prevent Terri from attempting something again. However, as a courtesy between colleagues he may fulfil their request. If you want to see her itīll have to be soon."

"Then I got no time to waste," I rose from the couch, heading directly for my still unpacked suitcase lying under the bed to get dressed. "If your parents take her home theyīll be able to keep me from seeing her for I donīt know how long, and even if Terri says she wants to see me, itīs doubtful your mother will let me. Iīm not going to take that chance."

Alan looked at me and he must have seen the grim determination on my face for he didnīt even try to argue or reason with me, but just got to his feet. "Okay. Iīll return to the hospital now and if my parents are there, Iīll see if I canīt persuade them to go out and get something to eat with me. That ought to give you enough time to see her. The nurse on duty is a friend of mine, Iīll let her know that youīre coming so she wonīt cause you any trouble."

He looked towards the door and it seemed like he was about to leave, but then he hesitated and looked back at me, speaking quietly, "Iīm sorry we had to meet under such circumstances, Ms. Kingston. You seem very nice and I wouldīve liked to have had the chance to get to know you better. But maybe next time." He walked to the door and opened it, but stopped abruptly in the doorway and turned around, speaking dryly as he met my eyes, "Welcome to the Cavanagh Family, Sarah, and may you never be bored again."

I dressed and scribbled a note for Paige in record time and less than twenty minutes after Alan had left, I walked through the doors of the hospital, gazing left and right to see if the coast was clear. I saw no sight of Terriīs parents and walking purposely, I set course for Terriīs room, hoping that if I looked confident enough nobody would inquire about my presence. In spite of Alanīs reassurance that the nurse on duty wouldnīt try to stop me, I wasnīt going to take any chances.

It wasnīt until I arrived at the door that I faltered, suddenly feeling uncertain. I wanted to see her, that I knew, but what then? What would I say? What would Terri say? And more importantly, what would I do once everything had been said and all there was left was for me to leave?

Deciding to deal with that when it happened, I carefully opened the door and went inside. The room was enveloped in a murky darkness, the closed blinds preventing any light outside from penetrating. Not that there was much light outside to begin with. The sky was grey and threatening and the clouds were black and heavy with rain. It looked to be another gloomy day.

Pausing just on the other side of the door, I tried to orientate myself, but just as my eyes had adapted to the darkness, a lamp was switched on. Blinking quickly against the sharp light, I saw Terri slowly sit up in the bed, her squinting eyes and tousled hair indicating that she had just woken up. Without a word, we both stared at each other for a moment, then Terriīs brow furrowed and she said hoarsely, "Sarah?"

"Yes," I smiled uncertainly, but feeling very happy just to see her. "Iīm sorry to wake you, but-"

"Thatīs okay," she interrupted, stifling a yawn. "I was only dozing anyway." She followed me with her eyes as I stepped over to her bed, coming to a halt an armīs length away from her. "What are you doing here? I thought you left London?"

"I did," I answered hesitantly, wondering how I could explain my reason for being here without ever touching upon her failed suicide attempt. As futile as it was, I just wanted to pretend it never happened and that it was for some other, harmless and insignificant, reason that Terri was sitting tired and pale in a hospital bed, silently waiting for me to speak. "But… when… well, Alan called me when…" I trailed off, unable or maybe unwilling to speak it out loud.

Terri only nodded slowly and didnīt speak either, her gaze straying to her arms resting on top of the blanket. My eyes followed, taking in the sight of her bandaged wrists, appearing eerily white against her tan skin. The sight did something to me, something inside me just came tumbling down with a resounding crash, and suddenly I heard a furious voice speak, "How could you do this?! How could you, Terri?! What the hell were you thinking?!"

It took me a couple of seconds to realize that the angry voice demanding answers was my own, but it didnīt stop me from continuing, although it a slightly more controlled tone when I saw how startled she looked, hiding her wrists beneath the blanket. "Terri, how could you do something like this? I know you were upset, but did it ever occur to you what you were about to do?"

I looked directly into her eyes, subconsciously taking a step closer and trying to ignore the hitch in my voice, "Do you know how close you came to dying? Do you know that if Alan had returned just a little later, you would have died! It would have been too late to do anything. Was that really what you wanted?" I was close to tears now, but didnīt even care. I was desperately trying to make her understand what she had done to herself. What she had done to me. "Did you really want to die? Because of me? Because of what I said?"

She looked away, mumbling something unintelligibly. But the matter was too important to me and I immediately reached out, turning her face back to me. "Was it, Terri? Was it because of me?"

She met my eyes reluctantly, searching my face, but for what I donīt know. Then she spoke nearly inaudibly, her gaze dropping to the bed, "Iīm sorry, Sarah. I never meant to hurt you. And no, it wasnīt because of you. It was… a lot of things were involved…"

I regarded her in silence for a long time, then my hand released her chin and she instantly turned her face away again. I knew she was lying. I knew that no matter what she said, I had been the main factor, I had triggered it, and being to blame or not, guilt or no guilt, it was something I would have to live with for the rest of my life.

"Iīm sorry," Terri spoke softly again, almost as if she was reading my mind. "I… I was very angry and upset when you left, and I didnīt know what to do. I tried to think, but I just couldnīt. My head was just too filled and I was so tired… I just didnīt care anymore. I wanted it all to be over. I thought it would be better that way."

I straightened up a little, asking simply and emotionlessly, "Did you want to die? The moment after you slit your wrists and watched the blood begin to flow, did you truly want to die?"

Terri raised her head, staring at something ahead of her, not even glancing in my direction, and then whispered, "Yes… but afterwards when I woke up in the hospital I was glad that I didnīt."

That, at least, made me breathe just a little easier. I had been scared out of my mind that the moment the doctors or her family turned their backs, she would try something stupid again. But the way she spoke convinced me that, in spite of everything, Terri was glad to be alive.

"Terri," I began, smiling weakly when she met my eyes. "I donīt understand why you-" But before I could finish my question, the door behind me swung open and the sound of footsteps came to a very abrupt halt. Then a strictly cool and professional voice inquired, "Ms. Kingston, what are you doing here? I believe you were asked to leave."

I turned around to look at Mrs. Cavanagh, noticing the unconscious tightening of Terriīs jaw as my gaze flickered past her on the way, her own eyes staring straight at her mother. Yet again before I had the time to speak, the sound of another pair of steps hurrying down the corridor reached us and seconds later, Alan appeared in the doorway, gasping for breath.

"Mum! I told you not to come here! You canīt keep treating-"

"Sheīs my daughter!" Fiona interrupted, her eyes shooting lighting bolts at alternately her son and me. "I happen to have her best interests at heart, and that woman!" By this she pointed an accusing finger at me. "Is not it!"

"Mrs. Cavanagh," I spoke pleasantly, trying to get everybody to calm down before the entire hospital was alerted. "I can assure you that-"

I was interrupted again, but this time it was by Terriīs father who had joined his son in the doorway, staring at the scene before him as though he couldnīt believe what he was seeing. "What is going on here? And Sarah, what are you doing here when you were told specifically to-"

However, nobody, it seemed, was allowed to complete an entire sentence that day, and the second he paused to take a breath both his wife and his son began arguing loudly. I tried to stay out of it, I really did - mainly because I was very capable of seeing how grotesque and silly it all was - but when my name was suddenly dragged into the argument by a furious Fiona, I was too enraged not to react and started defending myself before going on to tell her exactly what I thought of her and her concept of caring.

Iīm ashamed to admit that this argument very well could have gone on forever, or until we were all out of breath and things to say, but just as things were heating up for another round and the angry words spoken became more personal, Terri raised her voice. She didnīt yell or scream, she was terribly controlled and composed, her face void of expression, but her voice was so cold and yet so resigned and sad that we immediately shut up and turned our heads toward her.

"Please leave." Her eyes searched out each of our faces before moving on and never lingering on anybody. "All of you."

"But Terri-" We all said as one, but she just shook her head lightly. "No, go. I want you all to go."

I know we all must have felt like protesting, but for some reason neither of us did. Maybe it was the way she looked at us, maybe it was her voice that finally returned us to our senses, I donīt know, but one by one we backed down. As we started to file out of the door, Patrick first and myself at the end, Terri spoke again, causing us all to stop and look back at her.

"Mum, Dad, Iīm sorry for what I did, I know it hurt you, but that doesnīt mean you can just step in and take control of my life. I have spoken to Dr. Rosenbaum and told him that Iīm not leaving the hospital until he thinks itīs right and thereīs nothing you can do to change it. Iīm twenty-one and can make my own decisions, but should you find a way of bringing me home against my will, I want you to know that that will be the last time youīll ever see or hear from me again."

A stunned silence followed as she paused, waiting to make sure they knew she was serious. Fiona was about to object, but Patrickīs hand on her arm smothered the words on her tongue.

"And Alan," she smiled faintly, meeting her brotherīs eyes. "You have always looked out for me no matter how many times I told you to fuck off and mind your own business." They both smiled at that. "I want to thank you for saving my life, and I canīt tell you how sorry I am that it was you who had to find me like that. I didnīt think, I hope youīll be able to forgive me."

"Thatīs okay," he answered softly, clearing his throat. "Iīm just glad I got there in time."

They held each otherīs gaze for a moment, seemingly coming to some kind of understanding, then Terri nodded imperceptibly, slowly turning her eyes to me. I looked at her, forgetting the presence of the other people standing closely behind me. I knew exactly what she was going to say, and every fibre in my body was screaming out that it didnīt want to hear it.

"Sarah…" For the first time since she began her little speech, Terriīs voice appeared to waver and she looked suddenly uncertain, but only for an instant, then she smiled at me. "Thank you for coming to see me, and thank you for putting up with me all those months in advance. I know it canīt have been easy."

I know she expected some kind of reaction from me, maybe a smile, but I was unable to move or speak and just looked at her, waiting.

"Well," she began to fiddle with the blanket and I received the impression that she was having difficulties maintaining eye contact, but she immediately stopped her nervous fingering and continued, determinedly looking into my eyes. "I want you to know that being with you was the best time of my life and that Iīm sorry it ended the way it did. I understand now that you did the right thing, and… and that in fact I was lucky that you kept trying for as long as you did. I hope…" The slightest trace of emotion showed on her face, but it was thoroughly masked as she concluded quietly, finally giving up and looking away, "I hope you find someone to be happy with. Someone whoīs always there for you and treats you the way you deserve. Iīm… Iīm sorry it couldnīt be me."

I took a step towards the bed, and as I recall it now I donīt have the faintest idea of what I was going to say or do, but it doesnīt matter anyway. Terri never let me speak and just softly told me to go. Then she repeated it when we all seemed to be frozen, but it was me she was directing the words to and it was me her gaze followed as if by silent agreement, we all slipped out of the room, closing the door behind us. Alan turned to speak to me, but I waved him off. Nothing more needed to be said.

It was cold and wet when I left the hospital and Terri. It was warm and sunny when I finally laid my eyes on her again.

Seven years later.

Many things happened in those years. I steadily worked my way up, working increasingly long hours to avoid being alone and later it just became a habit that I continued. And eventually I began taking home the kind of money that, I must admit, was part of the reason I had wanted to study law in the first place. Paige was also doing well and met a man and nearly got married for the second time, but returned to her senses - as she put it - when she met his children. Myself I had my share of discreet and casual affairs, more often than not the woman in question was dark-haired and had blue eyes, but it was never serious and I backed out every time it looked like that might change. Always because I wasnīt interested, always because I wasnīt in love. Paige never commented when once again I told her a relationship was over, but only looked at me in that sad, knowing way of hers, before she would go out into the kitchen and fetch a bottle of wine and we would drink the night away. We were both drinking a little more than we ought in these days. At least I know I was.

Does a broken heart heal? Iīm not sure, but it definitely becomes less painful as time goes by. I was torn between wanting to forget about everything that had happened, and wanting to remember it all into the smallest detail. It was hard, the first couple of months, the first half a year, to walk past the places Terri and I had been together. It was even harder when a song on the radio reminded me of her and what we had done together. But nothing ever compared to the pain I felt every morning the first many weeks after my return from London when I woke up and Terri wasnīt there beside me, and I had no choice but to remember. I thought I had cried a lot while Terri and I were still together; I was wrong.

I wore the ring she had given me in a small chain around my neck for a year. And just as I was about to think I might be able to take it off, just when I was starting to think it would be okay to begin living again, something happened that brought it all back and made the last year I had spent trying to get over her seem absolutely worthless.

Terriīs first book was published by a minor British publishing company. And it was all about me.

It received positive acclaim considering her age, but I didnīt care about newspaper reviews and it was a long time before I began to pay attention to the world surrounding me again, spending night after night rereading Terriīs own account of what had taken place between us. Of course it was far from an exact retelling of the story of our relationship, Terri would never expose herself that way or reveal anything of such a personal nature, and the characters were, surprisingly enough - straight, but it was only too clear that it was about me. Us. And as much as I was happy for her that she was at last doing what she loved, at the time the book came out, I hated her for writing it.

From page one, the tone of the book was sad, frustrated, but as the story progressed it changed. It became more serene, more thoughtful and mature, but with that it grew less and less personal and towards the end I had difficulties finding Terri behind the words. Paige later informed me that most reviewers had picked up on the same and regretted that she hadnīt been able to keep it in the style she started it, but most had been confident that she would improve with age and experience. I didnīt respond, seeing Terriīs style of writing as a replicate of the way she had been with me. My father read the book as well and kept it in his private library, just as he did every other book she published after that, but we never discussed them or their content.

I learned through Nicola that Terri had never returned from London. She and I met by coincidence in a store and spent a few awkward minutes talking before I finally found the courage to inquire about what I wanted to know. I was told she was living in a small apartment in the North of London, writing during the day and working at night in a bar to make ends meet. Nicola had been to see her and she seemed to be content, living one day at a time and not thinking too far ahead. As far as she knew Terri wasnīt seeing anyone or seemed interested in that at all, by which I was secretly relieved, and whether she had any contact to her parents, she didnīt know. The subject hadnīt come up. Lastly Nicola told me that Alan and Jenny had married and were now living in a small country town a couple of miles from where Jenny was born. She offered me their phone number, saying that I could always contact Alan if there was something I wanted to know about Terri and I smiled and said that I would, but I never did.

Years later, Terri was slowly becoming more successful and her books were selling well. They were no longer about me, but I could still detect something in them, or a character would remind me of myself, but sometimes I wasnīt sure if it was only wishful thinking on my part. I couldnīt bear the thought that Terri might have forgotten me because as much as I had tried, I hadnīt forgotten her. Occasionally I could still make myself believe that I saw her on the street or in a window, but deep down I knew it couldnīt be her and I never said anything about it to Paige, not wanting her to think me as pathetic and sad as I did myself. Seven years is a long time to continue loving someone who isnīt there.

Thus time passed, slowly and relentlessly, and the skip my heart always made whenever I saw an article about Terri in the paper or came across one of her books on a shelf gradually and imperceptibly became smaller. But it never quite disappeared. And in a strange way, and despite the pain, I found a little joy in that.

For my thirty-fifth birthday, Paige bought me a trip to Dublin, inviting herself along. She had wanted to travel to Ireland in search of her roots for as long as I could remember, although I personally doubted there would be much, if anything, to find, but going to Dublin sounded great to me and I was more than looking forward to leaving.

We set the date for our departure in early July, but as the much anticipated day finally arrived, Paige was in the hospital having her appendix taken out. I wasnīt understanding at all, I had just abandoned another relationship and was eager to get a little distance between myself and my so-called spurned, and also not very understanding, ex-lover, and I was more or less convinced Paige had done it on purpose. Especially when I learned that the trip was non-refundable and couldnīt be postponed at such a short notice.

Smiling bravely from the hospital bed, Paige urged me to go by myself, and I think she was a little insulted when it took me less than thirty seconds to make up my mind and decide that that was exactly what I was going to do. However, after solemnly promising her to bring home something Celtic, she softened and even found the energy to wish me a safe journey.

Dublin is a beautiful city, small for a capital and with a very different feel from say London, but still itīs able to offer you whatever your heart may desire.

You just have to know when to ask for it and not to be afraid of the consequences.

Episode 33

The sun was shining and the weather was warm at a few minutes past five as I strolled down Grafton Street, one hand holding an ice cream, the other adjusting my sunglasses.

I was in a good mood and feeling perfectly touristy. It was hardly a wonder as I had used my first few days in Dublin visiting nearly every interesting tourist site. From the James Joyce Centre to the Book of Kells kept at Trinity College Library, I had seen it all, and it was with a subtle, but increasing feeling of "enough is enough," that I had decided to take a day off from being cultural and do something just as important instead.

Namely shopping.

I had promised to buy Paige and various family members a couple of souvenirs, but I had no idea what, and to be frank, I was more in the mood to get something for myself. Not that I had a much better idea of what to spoil myself with, although as most women I was - and am - of the opinion that you can never have too many shoes.

Walking past two street musicians, their enthusiasm and energy making up for everything they might lack in the talent and skills department, I caught myself missing having someone to share it all with. As much as I enjoyed the peace and quiet, and the possibility to be completely selfish when travelling alone, I longed for someone to discuss the things I saw with. Someone to comment on the sights, the food, the beer etc, and to keep me company when I needed it. Basically, I guess you could say that after three days in Dublin I was starting to feel just a little lonely.

Finishing my ice cream, I began to look around for suitable places to spend some money before returning to the hotel for the night. The hotel Paige had chosen was very nice, not exactly in the city centre so it required a bit of walking to reach it, but since the route let through a nice park called St. Stephenīs Green I didnīt mind, but rather enjoyed the walk. In fact, despite that I was feeling alone, I was quite at home and found most Irish to be friendly and less reserved than most of their polite British neighbours.

Just as I was about to give up finding anything interesting to buy, my eye caught the sight of a huge bookstore. It wasnīt really like I needed anymore reading materials, and it wasnīt like I was searching for anything I didnīt already have, but being my fatherīs daughter I was almost never capable of walking past such a store without at least looking inside. And that day was no different.

Walking inside I was absently speculating whether I would be able to come across a book my father might like, perhaps something about whisky, when I noticed that the store seemed unusually crowded considering the hour. People were milling about and I almost went back out, not in the mood waiting forever to pay in case I should find something I wanted to purchase. Still, the back of the store was close to being empty, and taking my sunglasses off, I quickly walked down between the aisles, searching for an appropriate place to start my browsing. Even when I was still a little girl, my father had solemnly taught me to be thorough and that it was in the most unlikely places you would find the best books or the biggest bargains. That aside, I liked taking my time.

The section I started with was filled with books about car engines, trains, aeroplanes and various mechanics, and it took me less than two seconds to realize that that probably wasnīt the best place to find something for Paige. Although I wouldnīt mind seeing her expression if I did. Trailing back towards the centre of the store, I came to an open space between two aisles, giving me a good look of the ground floor of the store. Not that it was a ground floor as such, more like a part of the floor lowered a few levels with two stairs on either side leading down to a circular area just big enough for a couple of tables covered with books.

Any other day the space was most likely used for special bargains or exhibitions, but not this time and I realized why people were lining up. There was a book-signing going on. One stair led people down to the table where the author was sitting, and the other stair was used as exit to avoid any confusion or chaos. I moved closer to the railing enclosing the circle, curious to see who the writer was and if it was anybody I was familiar with. If it was one of my fatherīs favourites I had just found the perfect gift for him.

Annoyed by the people who kept obscuring my view I leaned over the railing a little, finally catching a glimpse of red hair. However, when two young women who had been particularly good at hiding the author from my sight by practically hovering over her finally stepped back, I saw that the red hair didnīt belong to the writer, but to a woman in her late thirties sitting on a chair close behind. She was looking rather bored, her face turned halfway away as she spoke into a small cell phone, gesturing occasionally to emphasize a point. Losing interest, my gaze moved from her to the person sitting slightly in front of her.

A break had come in the line of people still waiting as the two who were next seemed to disagree on who had arrived there first, and the author used the opportunity to take a sip of water from a glass on the table, rubbing her forehead slowly as if she was in pain.

She was dressed in black from head to toe, the bad lighting made it difficult for me to see her face, and her hair was a little longer than I remembered, but it didnīt matter. Even from a distance, even after so many years, I would recognize her anywhere.

And I just had. In a bookstore in Dublin.

I donīt know how long I stared at her and I have no idea what I was thinking or feeling. Everything was just racing through me and for just a second, I felt like I couldnīt breathe.

Maybe if I had had the chance to prepare myself, had known she was there, I would have reacted less strongly. But the surprise, if not the shock, of at last seeing her again unprepared after so long left me dumbfounded.

As the next customer approached her, Terri looked up and gave him a tired and absent-minded smile while fumbling with her pen - a smile I recognized only too well - then I lost her from my sight as the man leaned in over the table to tell her something. In that moment I realized that if I continued standing frozen to the ground, odds were that Terri would spot me. I wasnīt directly across from her, but all it would take was for her eyes to waver just a little to the left and up and she would see me. The thought that she might not recognize or even notice me did cross my mind, but I pushed it away as ridiculous. I knew she would remember.

Filled with conflicting emotions, I remained paralysed for one more long, agonizing minute. I both wanted and didnīt want her to see me. I wanted to see her reaction, the expression on her face when our eyes met, but even as I thought that, I was turning away, intending to head for the door and walk away. In that exact moment Terri was done signing the manīs book and raised her head, catching the movement out of the corner of her eye.

I know I could have continued, that if I had walked steadily for the door, then she probably would have written it off as a trick of the light and soon forgotten everything about it. But I didnīt continue, something held me fast and I turned back, coming to stare directly into her eyes.

I held her gaze for about two seconds, then I did the mature thing - turned on my heels and fled.

Once I was outside the store I still had enough presence of mind not to run to avoid attracting unnecessary attention to myself, but I was walking mighty fast nonetheless. Not that it would have made any real difference as less than thirty seconds later, I heard running steps behind me and it was clear as day they were following me. Still, she didnīt call out my name before she was directly behind me, close enough to reach out and stop me if she wanted. She didnīt, though. I donīt think she dared.

"Sarah?"

From the moment I heard her follow me, I had gradually, and more or less subconsciously, been slowing down, and now I came to a complete halt. But I kept my back to her, momentarily not knowing what to do or if I even wanted to talk to her.

"Sarah? It is-"

Before she could finish I turned around, vaguely noticing the sign of relief showing on her face as she saw it was me.

"It is you," she spoke slowly with a warm smile, stepping a little closer before pausing hesitantly. "Thatīs a relief. I was afraid I was chasing a stranger down Crafton St. As if people donīt think Iīm crazy enough." She grinned briefly and reached out towards me as if to touch me and make sure I was really there, but then suddenly changed her mind and pulled her hand back and just said, "So… how have you been?"

"Fine…" I answered lamely, thankful that she hadnīt asked why I left the bookstore the way I did. "I have been just fine. You? And what are you doing here?" Somehow it seemed the answer to that last question was very important to know as I suddenly felt a strong stab of anger towards her, irrationally thinking that she could only be here to mess up my life again just as I had gotten everything straightened out.

Terri shrugged and obviously didnīt suspect what I was thinking, but just said she was fine and mentioned something about combining a holiday with a little business. But I received the impression she didnīt really seem to be aware of what she was saying and was as busy studying me as I was her.

It had been seven years and she would turn twenty-eight the upcoming November, but she still looked quite young. Obviously not the way she did when I first set eyes on her, but as I stood there, in the middle of the street, I saw that it wasnīt so much her physical appearance that had changed and matured. It was something else. As I fought to find a word that would properly describe her transition, she suddenly reached out again, this time lightly grasping my left forearm.

Smiling, she met my eyes without nervousness and spoke softly, "Iīve missed you, Sarah. Iīve often wondered how you were doing."

I swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump I felt in my throat. I wasnīt going to let her do this to me again. "Well," I smiled, feigning both relaxation and tranquillity, either of which I didnīt feel one bit. "I canīt imagine youīve had too much time thinking of me considering how busy youīve been making a name for yourself as a writer." I smiled again, this time for real, gently covering the hand still holding my arm with my own, "Iīm so very proud of you, Terri, and happy for you and what you have achieved."

"Yeah well…" Terri smiled slightly and shifted on her feet, looking a little embarrassed, but pleased by my words nonetheless. "It definitely suits me more than tending bars."

"And requires less social involvement as well," I supplied with a teasing but friendly grin, instinctively knowing that although Terri might have changed, she hadnīt changed that much. And the self-conscious grin she gave me in return told me I hadnīt been mistaken. "Yeah, that too."

With that it seemed like we had run out of things to say, or maybe we were just too engaged in looking at each other, because the conversation came to a halt and almost simultaneously we both noticed that we were still standing in the middle of the street, that our hands were still touching, and that we were receiving curious glances from people passing us by.

I removed my hand first, seeing how Terriīs gaze followed the movement, a strange, somewhat bewildered look on her face, but whether it was my reaction or something in herself that surprised her, I couldnīt tell. Then she released my arm and before either she or I had the chance to speak, another voice spoke directly behind us, "Excuse me, Terri, but what the hell do you think youīre doing taking off like that?"

"Iīm sorry, Caroline," Terri spoke tiredly without turning around and her eyes still meeting mine. "I just had some urgent business to attend to."

"Uh huh," came the very dry reply and a woman stepped around Terri and into my view, and I recognized the redhead from the store. "So I see…" She gave me an icy look, sizing me up in less than three seconds, before instantly dismissing me, speaking only to Terri, "People are not happy, Terri, you promised them three hours and they want you to come back again tomorrow to fulfil your part of the deal."

"There was only half an hour left!" Terri protested in exasperation, apparently forgetting about my presence as well. "How many fucking books can you sign in thirty minutes anyway?"

"Enough, and you know that," was the womanīs unfazed answer as she calmly checked her watch, not the least impressed by the look Terri shot her once she looked up. "There are about ten minutes until the store closes, so you still have an opportunity to make up for some of the lost time. Letīs go."

She gestured back towards the store, indicating for Terri to walk ahead of her, but Terri remained where she was, turning to me and saying without missing a beat, "Sarah, allow me to introduce Caroline Thomas to you, my charming agent, or babysitter, depending on oneīs point of view."

In spite of her words and her previous display of irritation, I didnīt detect any real animosity on Terriīs behalf against her agent, and the redhead didnīt even blink, so I assumed this was normal behaviour for them.

"And Caroline, this is Sarah Kingston…" Terri hesitated for just an instant. "An old friend."

Carolineīs eyes wavered briefly in my direction, "My pleasure." But already as she said that she was looking at Terri again, demonstratively holding up her watch. "Terri… the time… Theyīre expecting us and people are waiting to have their books signed. You know… the people who buy your books and pay your bills, " she finished blithely, giving Terri a pointed look.

"And yours, too," Terri muttered under her breath, but if Caroline heard she pretended not to. "Okay, okay…" Terri sighed and rubbed her forehead again, just like she had done back in the store, "Youīre right. Sarah…" she looked at me, appearing a little conflicted. "I have to go back now, but Iīd like to-"

"Terri, please…" Caroline was clearly very irritable now and Terriīs eyes narrowed dangerously by the sound of her agentīs impatient tone, and for a long tense moment they just stared at each other, then Caroline backed down. "Suit yourself, Terri. Iīm going back there now and youīd better not let me wait too long. Youīve already managed to get a reputation for being difficult and overly aloof, letīs not add unreliable to that list. Unreliable authors always tend to make publishers and booksellers nervous, and we donīt want that, do we?"

Without waiting for an answer, or even expecting one, she turned around and strode away, taking out her cell phone and dialling a number as she did so. Terri exhaled slowly and I could swear she was counting to ten on the inside, then she gave me a quick smile, "Sorry about that. Carolineīs usually not so... so…" She grinned suddenly. "Well, not so much anyway. She just hates it when I do something unexpected."

"Like chasing people out of bookstores?" I inquired, glancing for a second past Terri to see Carolineīs back disappear in the crowd of people further down the street.

"Something like that," Terri replied, still grinning, but then she grew serious. "Look, what I was trying to say before we got interrupted was that Iīd really like to talk to you some more if you have the time. And want to of course," she added hurriedly, searching my face intently. "So… I mean… if youīve got some time later tonight, then…?"

She regarded me questioningly and I could clearly see the look of anticipation in her eyes, in spite of her efforts to hide it, and I realized I would have to make a decision. After my initial shock, it had been nice to see her again and a lot less painful that the countless scenarios I had envisioned in my head over the years. Also, as far as I could tell she seemed to be content with life, happy, and if I had to be brutally honest with myself, that was all I really needed to know. It was enough for me to be able to wish her a good life and walk away with a clear conscience, comforted by the knowledge that she would manage just like always. I didnīt need to meet up with her again later and reminisce about old times or tell her about the things happening in my life. I didnīt need to tell her how much I had missed her and how much everything that had happened in London had hurt me, and I was afraid that if we did sit down and began talking, I might just end up telling her all that despite my firm resolutions not to.

As the last thought ran through my head, my gaze left her face of its own volition and darted to her wrists, both hidden in the sleeves of the black shirt she was wearing in spite of the warm weather. When I was finally able to tear my eyes away again and look up, I could tell from the expression on Terriīs face that she knew exactly what it was I had been staring at for so long, but she gave nothing away and an almost imperceptible clenching of her jaw was the only visible reaction.

"So…" she licked lips briefly, her voice even. "Do you have time?"

Naturally, I said yes. Just as I had known deep down I would all along.

Old habits die hard.

I told her where I was staying and we arranged for her to come by later that evening. However, just as that was settled, she remembered she had to go to an exhibition one of Carolineīs contacts was participating in, and taking her agentīs current mood into account, Terri thought it better not to break that arrangement.

"I donīt really want go," she explained apologetically. "Itīs a PR thing, and itīs usually incredibly tedious. Rooms filled with people all furthering their own interests and following their own agendas, and nobodyīs really listening to what anybodyīs saying anyway."

I told her not to worry, smiling inwardly by the thought of how extremely bored Terri was going to be, and then said she could call me at the hotel the next day and we would set up a time to meet.

"Okay." She smiled at me even as she was starting to back away from me, unwilling to turn around completely. "Iīm looking forward to it." She paused, looking at me in a thoughtful but appreciative way, that made my stomach do things it shouldnīt, and then said quietly, "You look good, Sarah." She smiled again, speaking more to herself than me, "Youīre as beautiful as ever… not that I ever doubted it."

And then she finally turned around and left, leaving me to experience a whole range of new and old feelings I wasnīt sure whether to welcome or to fear.

Getting back to the hotel, the first thing I did was to fix myself a stiff drink from the minibar. Then I collapsed down onto the bed and spent about an hour staring aimlessly ahead of myself, so far away in my mind that even after so long I wouldnīt have been able to describe the wallpaper pattern, or even the colour. Eventually the standstill of the moment became too much and I practically leapt to my feet, experiencing a strong need to do something, anything, to regain at least some control of the situation. For a second I was tempted to pack my bags and just leave to avoid having to deal with it all. But then I got a hold of myself, and with only my jacket, without any purpose or destination in mind, I left the hotel room and headed for the lift. As the lift slowly moved downwards, I finally started to be able to sort out my feelings and thoughts, and the state of confusion and uncertainty I had been in since speaking with Terri began, if not completely, almost to disappear.

As much as I wanted to, I couldnīt fool myself and claim that seeing her again had left me cold, or just remotely unaffected. I just had to recall my reaction in the bookstore to know how big an illusion that was. Parts of me wanted to write it off as being caused solely by the surprise of suddenly seeing her again after all those years, and while that was true, it wasnīt the only reason.

Walking through the lobby and past the restaurants despite my complaining stomach, I slowly resigned myself to fate. I was never going to have Terri completely out of my system. It just wasnīt going to happen. I would always carry some of my love for her in my heart, and that love would always have the potential of becoming alive again if I wasnīt careful. If I allowed it to happen. Which I couldnīt.

Oh, I was just as attracted to her as I had always been. That would be the most futile point to deny. The need to reach out and touch her had returned within seconds as if it had never been dormant. Her hesitant smile still made me weak and her eyes were still the most beautiful I had ever seen, but I couldnīt allow it to cloud my judgement.

Terri wasnīt good for me. She wasnīt what I needed. Last time I was forced to admit that it broke my heart, and I wasnīt going to let that happen again. I had enough scar tissue to deal with as it was.

She may have changed, an excited voice whispered seductively in my head. Itīs been seven years. Sheīs not the person she was, sheīs grown up. Things are different now.

"I have no way of knowing that," I answered my internal voice, not realizing I had spoken out loud before the couple that had just passed me in the lobby turned around briefly to give me an odd look. Ignoring them, I left the hotel and began to walk down the street, direction unknown. It was still warm and relatively bright outside and on any other evening I would have appreciated it, but tonight I didnīt care. I thought about calling Paige to get her opinion, but decided against it. She couldnīt tell me anything I hadnīt told myself already, but as I approached St. Stephenīs Green, walking around it instead of through, I admitted to myself that the reason I didnīt want Paige to know was that I knew what she was going to say. And most importantly, I knew I didnīt want to hear it.

You wonīt be able to stay away, will you? The same voice as before whispered, this time more mellow than seductive. And maybe a little resigned. Should anything happen, youīre not going to do anything to stop it. You may even be the one to take the first step if she lets you. Isnīt that so?

Isnīt that so…?

The annoying thing about internal voices is that they can be awfully hard to shut up or even ignore, and the voice in my head has always been particularly bothersome, but in that moment I saw something that made it fall deadly silent faster than it ever had before.

I saw Terri. She was standing maybe thirty or forty yards ahead of me outside a large and brightly lit building, and she was laughing. She and Caroline were saying good-bye to two men and a woman who were just getting into a taxi, and they were all in high spirits. As the taxi drove off I saw that Carolineīs arm was placed around Terriīs waist in what looked like a very proprietary manner, but Terri didnīt seem to mind or even notice. Instead she hailed another taxi just passing and as it made a large turn to come back to them, Terri leaned down to say something to her agent, who responded by laughing, lightly shaking her head. And then they kissed.

It only lasted a second or two because the taxi pulled up in front of them and put an end to it, but to me it might as well have lasted an eternity. And as they got in and the taxi drove away, I knew that the sudden pain inside me would last even longer.

Episode 34

You would think that being in a complete state of shock and disbelief would prevent you from feeling anything, but not in my case. As I slowly walked back to the hotel, my mind in some kind of haze, the one thing that kept making itself heard no matter how hard I tried to suppress it was how stupid I had been.

It had been seven years. Of course things had changed.

Just because I had been grieving the loss of what I felt was the love of my life, it didnīt mean Terri had been doing the same. Sure she had loved me once, or so I believed, but young hearts are fickle and heal quickly, and my so suddenly silenced inner voice had returned and kept whispering to me that I should be happy for her, happy that she had found someone else and wasnīt alone.

But I wasnīt. And as I reached my hotel and went inside, I didnīt know who I hated the most in that moment. Myself for being so stupid as to expect anything from our meeting, or Terri, for having the audacity to love someone other than me.

Of course, it was also possible that the one I hated more than anyone else was Caroline.

As I heard the door close quietly behind me, I stopped and stood motionlessly in the middle of my hotel room, staring absently at the furniture around me. I had returned with no plan or idea about what I would do next, and the feeling of bewilderment and uncertainty didnīt seem to want to leave my head and let me think straight. In a way I welcomed that because it also prevented me from thinking about things that would be too painful, but deep down I knew I couldnīt keep acting like nothing had happened.

Maybe itīs for the best… Maybe this will finally allow you to move on and forget about her…

Somehow I found myself sitting on the bed, my eyes now focused on the floor, finding it as fascinating as I had the wallpaper only a few hours earlier.

Itīs not like youīre really upset, is it? You were just carried away and then abruptly brought back to reality. Thatīs not so bad, is it? Youīll be fine in a moment.

As I buried my face in my hands, the voice in my head tried one last time, Youīre not really crying, are you…?

And then it fell silent.

Around noon the next day Terri called. I told her I wasnīt feeling well and that I would like to postpone our meeting to the following day. She sounded a little disappointed, but said it was fine and wished me a speedy recovery, and I put down the receiver and reached for my wine glass, not even wondering why it had been so easy for me to lie to her.

I had planned to leave Dublin that night, but when the time arrived I was too drunk to even contemplate such a complicated task, and some small part of me was also reluctant to break off my holiday and return before time. Paige would ask questions I didnīt want to answer but knew I would in the end, and it was the look on her face once she had heard my entire sad tale that I feared the most.

The next morning, while I still lay in the bed, feeling the consequences of too much alcohol and no food, Terri called again. This time I had no problem sounding sick and Terri began to sound slightly worried, asking if she shouldnīt come by just to check everything was okay. I told her no, saying it was nothing and it would pass once I had had the time to sleep, and she reluctantly relented, but gave me her cell phone number in case I needed something. However, what I needed she couldnīt give me, so I called room service instead, ordering another bottle of wine. While waiting for it to arrive, I did start speculating whether I actually intended to spend the rest of my days in Ireland in a state of complete inebriation, but then the bottle arrived and I quickly pushed the thought away. It wasnīt like I was going to drink myself into oblivion anyway, just enough to stop it from hurting.

I should have seen it coming, and maybe, in a way I did because when later that night I heard a firm knocking on my door I knew exactly who it was. Besides, room service had been there less than an hour before with the, so far, last bottle of wine I had ordered, and although I had done my best, that one still wasnīt empty and I hadnīt planned to order another just yet.

Tightening the belt of my robe a little more, I padded over to the door, not bothering to put anything else on. Opening the door, I saw Terri catch herself just as she was about to knock a fourth time and instead she let her hand fall down, speaking quickly, "Look, I know you said that you-"

She faltered when all I did was to turn around and walk back in, leaving the door wide open for her to follow. After a brief hesitation that was exactly what she did. "Sarah?" With my back turned I could hear her shut the door and step closer, her voice a mixture of puzzlement and concern. "Sarah, are you all right? Is there-" Abruptly she fell silent again, but this time I knew the reason wasnīt me, but the almost empty bottle of wine on the table and the other bottles from before I hadnīt bothered to throw away.

"Sarah, whatīs going on here? I thought you werenīt feeling well?"

I shrugged carelessly, although the timbre of accusation in Terriīs words did make me cringe inwardly. But I didnīt show it and just replied, "Iīm not."

"No wonder," Terri spoke a little testily and I could hear her walk over to the table and pick up one of the bottles, holding it in her hand for a moment before putting it back down. "With all youīve had to drink itīs a wonder youīre capable of standing upright."

"Not that itīs any of your business," I answered slightly sharper than intended, turning around to face her, "but those are old bottles. I havenīt been sitting all day drinking if thatīs what youīre thinking." Okay, maybe that wasnīt exactly true, but it wasnīt exactly a lie either.

Terri just looked at me and the expression on her face remained impossible for me to read despite all my attempts. "I…" her brow furrowed and she looked away as though she was trying to think, her gaze resting on the edge of the bed. A few seconds passed in silence, then she met my eyes again and said quietly, "Iīm not sure I understand whatīs going on here, Sarah. If you havenīt been ill then…" She straightened up suddenly and crossed her arms in front of her chest, her face hardening imperceptibly, but I detected more confusion than anger. "Have you been trying to avoid me?"

Several responses ran through my head, some more laughable than others, but I never seriously considered lying to her. I knew she would see right through me anyway. Also, a strange feeling was slowly but steadily suffusing me. It wasnīt exactly resignation, but it wasnīt a feeling of serenity or peace either. Pushing it aside, I answered softly, "Yes." And I think I might even have managed to smile at the absurdity of the situation, but inside I wasnīt smiling. "I guess I have."

"But why?" Terri stared at me and I could tell that although she had asked me the question, she hadnīt anticipated the answer she would get and was clearly taken aback. And hurt.

And suddenly I knew what it was I was feeling. Indifference. Not about Terri, not about my feelings for her, but the entire ridiculous situation. All the confusion and pain and misunderstandings - I just didnīt care anymore. In that very moment I was past that. I was tired of always being reasonable, considerate, and understanding. I was tired of always having to settle, of things never going my way.

And most of all, I was tired of never getting what I wanted.

Somehow I knew that the alcohol content in my blood played a very large part in my sudden feeling of carelessness, but nevertheless I relished it, welcomed it. And then I acted upon it.

"Because…" I slowly closed the distance between us, slightly amused by the renewed look of bewilderment on Terriīs face. "Because if I didnīt I was afraid I might do something I shouldnīt…"

"What do you mean?" Terri looked at me, obviously not following.

"This," I replied calmly, wrapped my arms around her, and kissed her.

I had expected her to react in one of two ways; one, that she would freeze up in surprise, or two, roughly push me away, and those reactions I would have known how to deal with. What I didnīt know how to deal with was her tongue slowly entering my mouth as she began to kiss me back, her arms slipping around my waist and pulling me close. That, I hadnīt quite expected.

Which didnīt mean I wanted her to stop.

She kissed me hard and relentlessly, her passion probably spurred on by her confusion and anger, but I did what I could to urge her on, skilfully remembering and taking into use all the small tricks I knew would make Terriīs blood race faster. And I soon learned that Terri hadnīt forgotten which of my buttons to push either, her hands already attempting to find a way up under my robe. Nevertheless, despite her forcefulness and greater strength, that night I was the one who called the shots and she never really stood a chance. From the moment I kissed her, I knew I had to have her and no force on earth was going to stop me from achieving that goal. Not my better judgement, not my conscience, not Caroline and, least of all, not Terri.

Fortunately, she didnīt mind.

Iīm not really sure, but somehow we ended up on the bed, our descent less than graceful, but neither of us could have cared less. She tried to roll me over, to take charge, but I was having none of it and soon she relented and let me be in control, maybe not understanding, but sensing that I needed it.

In a way it was like we had never been apart. Our bodies merged and fit together like those seven intermediate years had never been, and we moved together effortlessly, instinctively, with no feelings of awkwardness or hesitation. Before I could tell her or show her what I wanted, she would do it, and she barely had the energy to voice any wishes as I made sure she wasnīt neglected for even a second. I loved her fervently and reverently, but with too many haphazard thoughts and feelings running through me to be really gentle. We didnīt have time for that, at least I didn't - always fearing to wake up and have her disappear beneath my hands before I could satisfy my hunger. So I clung to her, as closely as the damp and tangled sheets clung to her back, and the only time I allowed myself to slow down was when I tenderly kissed her wrists, moving closer and closer to the pale scars visible there. At that point Terri froze and for the first time tried to move away, but I wouldnīt let her and silently dared her to break eye contact as I held her wrist against my lips, easily feeling the frantic beat of her pulse close beneath the skin.

I donīt know what went through her head in that moment, and as much as I tried I wasnīt able to read anything off her face or tell what she was feeling, but that she was indeed feeling something I knew without a doubt. She ceased resisting and remained quiet and passive as I moved to her other wrist, our eyes never leaving the otherīs face. We didnīt speak, in fact, not a single word of significance was spoken between us that night, and hours later, when Terri was lying fast asleep next to me, I plaintively realized that it hadnīt been like before after all. And it was with a sense of sadness, emptiness, not joy, I eventually fell asleep, locked in an embrace that didnīt belong to me.

I woke scant hours later with a feeling of being watched and as I slowly opened my eyes, I saw Terri propped up on her right elbow, studying me intently. In the early morning light it was hard to see her face properly, but I could tell she smiled a little, her free hand resting lightly on the blanket covering my hip. "Morning."

"Morning," I replied quietly, intending to smile in return, but for some reason wasnīt able to. "What time is it?"

Without looking away or searching for her watch, Terri answered, "A few minutes past six, itīs still early. You can go back to sleep if you like."

I was tired, to be honest I was completely exhausted and feeling drained both emotionally and physically, but as much as I longed to just close my eyes and postpone thinking about anything, I knew I couldnīt. I felt like I owed Terri some kind of explanation for my behaviour, an apology, but as the room gradually became brighter and Terri absently began to draw small circles on my hip, another thought struck. Why was she acting the way she did? Why did she seem so relaxed and calm, as if this was a morning like any other and not…

I sat up quickly, pulling the blanket up to make me feel less exposed, "Perhaps you should go."'

She removed her hand, which had stilled when I moved, and frowned, leaning back a little to look up at me, "What do you mean?"

I looked at her and suddenly wanted to strike her as I saw the look of what appeared to be genuine confusion on her face. I couldnīt believe she had become so callous, the Terri I knew would never have behaved like this. "Caroline," I spoke, amazed by the calm and emotionless tone of my voice. "Donīt you think sheīll be worried by now?"

"Worried?" Terri sat up as well, only bothering to cover herself when she noticed me avert my eyes. "Why? Why should Caroline be worried?"

"Well…" I was starting to get slightly annoyed now. Maybe Terri didnīt have a problem with what had happened between us, but I did. My recklessness from the night before had long disappeared and my conscience was doing an excellent job of telling me how selfishly I had acted, and it wasnīt making it better that I apparently had to spell it out to her. "You didnīt come home last night. Donīt you think thatīll make her worried?"

She just shrugged, searching my face for what she obviously suspected was the real reason for my sudden withdrawal. "I donīt know, I donīt think so. We didnīt have anything planned." She meant to say more, but suddenly something seemed to dawn upon her and her brow furrowed slightly, her eyes becoming almost suspicious as she stared at me thoughtfully. "Where are you going with all this, Sarah? If thereīs something you want to say then come straight out and say it, stop beating about the bush."

I regarded her coolly, my guilty conscience disappearing almost as quickly as it had arrived. Terriīs attitude was making me angry and the anger was a lot easier to deal with than the hurt I didnīt want to acknowledge. I was starting to feel that she was the one who had done something wrong, not me. It was true I had initiated matters, but I wasnīt involved with anybody, I was free to do whatever I wanted and it wasnīt as though I had seduced her. Terri had willingly joined me in everything I wanted to do, never once trying to stop me or tell me no. I knew had she really wanted me to stop, she would have told me so, regardless of her desire and lust, she would have made me stop. But she didnīt. So who was really to blame here? Who was it who ought to feel guilty?

With that thought in my head I rose from the bed and walked naked through the room, searching for my robe.

"Sarah?"

I found the robe where it had been thrown carelessly onto the couch and slipped it on, tying the knot securely as I turned around to face her again, "I think you should go now, Terri."

She didnīt answer and bit her lip lightly, meeting my eyes. I could tell that she was thinking about something, seemingly weighing the pros and cons, or debating with herself what to do next, then suddenly she said, "Look, Sarah, I donīt know what youīve heard or read about me and Caroline in the tabloids, but those are just stupid rumours. You know how people like to read more into-"

"I saw you, Terri," I interrupted softly and without accusation, not experiencing any real anger towards her anymore, but more like a warped sense of sympathy, wanting to stop her before she embarrassed herself further. "Last night, outside the gallery or whatever it was, I saw you together. Are you going to tell me the tabloids orchestrated that?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out and she slowly closed it again. Still, she recovered from the surprise quickly, only using a few seconds to think before saying, "I donīt know what you saw, Sarah, or believed you saw, but Caroline and I donīt have a relationship like that. We just…" She faltered, for the first time appearing a little unsure of how to continue, her eyes still locked with mine, waiting for my reaction.

"You donīt have to explain anything," I spoke, continuing in my calm, relaxed tone. I stepped over to draw the curtains aside and open a window, gratefully inhaling the fresh morning air. "It doesnīt concern me."

"But…" Terri spoke to my back, the confusion in her voice so evident that I could easily picture the expression on her face. "But if you thought… I mean, I thought that… when…" For a moment there was silence, an unpleasant silence, and I was sorely tempted to turn around and look at her, but something held me back. Then she spoke, very quietly, but her words were far from placid, "So was this some twisted way of getting back at me? Were you trying to punish me for hurting you all those years ago, or were you just in the mood for a quick fuck and knew where you could get it?"

"You think highly of yourself, donīt you, Terri?" I snapped, angrily spinning around. "Donīt you think I have had better things to do for the last seven years than coming up with ways trying to punish you? And trust me, should I feel like getting laid there are plenty of other places I could go."

Terri stared at me, then spoke in a voice cold as ice, "Of that I have no doubt." She got out of the bed and began to dress, quickly and without a word. I just watched, torn between wanting to go over and throw my arms around her, and scream for her to get the hell out of my room.

And my heart.

As she walked to the door, I experienced an incredibly strong sense of déjā vu, abruptly recalling all the times I had been through the exact same or similar situations when we were still together. But then Terri hesitated, her hand tightening around the doorknob but not turning. Without looking at me she spoke tiredly, "Iīm sorry about the things I just said, I had no right to feel upset. I understand if you think Iīve behaved like a jerk, but you have to believe me when I say that Caroline and I really donīt have that kind of relationship. We… we do end up in bed together occasionally, but thatīs all it is and usually only when weīve had too much to drink."

"You donīt have to explain anything," I said, repeating my words from earlier and feeling as tired as Terri sounded.

"Yes, I do," she said almost angrily, glancing at me. "I want you to understand."

"Why?" I asked simply.

"Because…" Terri sighed, then finally turned to fully face me, crossing her arms behind her back and leaning against the door. She sighed again and was silent for a few moments, then met my eyes and spoke quietly, "Because I donīt want you to think bad of me, Sarah. I donīt care what the rest of the world thinks, or what the papers write about me, but I canīt stand the thought of you thinking bad of me."

"Why do you care what I think?"

For a second it almost looked like she was about to laugh, but then she shook her head in a slow, resigned way, smiling faintly to herself, but her voice was sombre as she spoke, "I just do… okay." She pushed herself away from the door, hesitated for a split second, then resolutely walked over and gave me a gentle hug, whispering into my ear, "Iīm sorry things always seem to get messed up when weīre together. You have no idea how many times Iīve wished that it ended differently between us, or better yet, that it didnīt end at all." She moved away a little to look at me, but kept her arms loosely around me, giving me a small smile, "You helped me realize a lot about myself, Sarah, among other things that I couldnīt keep running away, or that not thinking about stuff wasnīt going to solve it. Iīll always be grateful to you for that."

She raised a hand to slowly tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear, but when that was done she didnīt move her hand away and just continued to speak softly, "Iīm sorry for what I did in London, it was an unforgivable thing to do and Iīm very fortunate that Iīm still alive."

I swallowed, an old pain suddenly feeling very fresh again as I replied hoarsely, "You scared me, Terri. I have never been so afraid in my life as on that plane going back to London."

"I know," she murmured, tenderly stroking my hair, the blue eyes as gentle as her touch. "Iīm so sorry, baby, I never meant to hurt you. It was rash and thoughtless, I didnīt think how it would affect you."

I leaned into her hand, so tempted to just close my eyes and…

And what?

"Terri, please…"

"Yes, baby?" Terri whispered fervently, her face so close to mine now that we were breathing each otherīs air. "What is it?"

"I canīt do this again…"

"What?" she froze inches from my lips, her entire body stiffening.

"Iīm sorry!" I blurted out, nearly stumbling as I tore myself away from her. "I canīt do this again, I canīt risk it!"

"But, Sarah…" she reached for me, but I took a step back, afraid that I would ravel should she touch me again. "Sarah…" Terri looked at me, an edge of desperation to her voice that was mirrored on her face. "You canīt mean that, not when we still have something. And we do, I can feel it!" She was going to say more, but faltered abruptly, searching for words before asking quietly, "Donīt you feel it, too?"

"Thatīs not the point!" I almost shouted, feeling closer to tears than I was comfortable with. "Yes, it is!" Terri answered just as loudly, closing in on me. "Thatīs exactly the point! If you still love me we can make this work. I wasnīt mature or stable enough seven years ago, but, Sarah…" She reached for me again and this time I didnīt attempt to move away. "Now I am… I can make you happy now... If youīll let me," she added almost inaudibly, her grip on my arm so tight it was painful.

We stared intensely at each other, the atmosphere in the room so tense that I felt like I would choke. "Donīt you understand, Terri…" I finally managed to whisper, sounding almost like I was pleading with her. "You broke my heart… I canīt risk letting you do it again…"

The lugubrious smile that flickered across Terriīs face cut straight through me and her words were full of bitterness as she exhaled deeply, "Donīt you think I broke my own heart as well? Donīt you think I have cursed the day I let you walk away? I even went to see you once when I couldnīt stand it any more. I waited outside your building for four hours, but when you got back you werenīt alone and I didnīt want you to know I was there."

"But why not?" I asked, completely floored by the information that Terri had actually come to see me.

"Because I didnīt want you to think me as pathetic as I felt."

"I… I…" I gave up coming up with a response and just asked, "When was that?"

"I…" It was Terriīs turn to hesitate. "I donīt know. A long time ago. Iīd just finished my first book and wanted you to see it before it was published. It was… well..." She smiled tentatively, "It was mostly about you, you know… about us…"

"I know," I answered softly, my gaze shifting from Terriīs face to her hand still holding my arm. "Iīve read it, Iīve read everything you have ever written."

"Everything?" she inquired, seemingly surprised, but also pleased by the revelation.

"Yes." I looked up again, giving her a smile. "Everything. Even that piece you wrote in The Times a year or two ago about Tori Amos being the 21st centuryīs answer to Sophocles."

"Oh… that…" Terri grinned a little embarrassed. "That was only meant as a joke. They wanted me to write something, but I had my own deadlines to keep and didnīt have the time to write anything proper." She grinned again, "Judging from the passionate īLetters to the Editorī they received a few days later not everybody appreciated the joke."

"No," I returned her grin. "I remember."

The change of subject had helped clear the tension between us, but we both knew that things were far from over. I could tell from the determined set of Terriīs jaw that she wasnīt going to let me get away without a fight. In an odd sort of way that made me feel good, but also afraid. Afraid that I would give in, or maybe - as I looked into her eyes, seeing the emotion there - that I wouldnīt.

Terri was the first to break the silence, "Sarah, I understand if youīre gunshy after all that happened, hell, I donīt even know if youīre seeing someone else or not, but I really want to try again. Itīs something Iīve thought about a lot for a very long time, and I know now Iīm not going to meet someone like you again." She paused, then continued in a rush, "In fact, I donīt want to meet anybody else, I donīt want anybody but you. Maybe you donīt believe me or think Iīm exaggerating, but Iīm not. I still love you. I loved you when you left me in London, and I love you now. I want you back, Sarah. Please say that I have a chance to make things right?"

"What… what about Caroline?" I asked, mainly to gain some time before having to answer. "Doesnīt she have a say in this?"

"I told you itīs not like that between us," Terri exasperated, and I could tell she was aware of my delaying tactics. "Weīre just friends who happen to find each other attractive and occasionally act on it. Itīs nothing! She doesnīt love me, and I donīt love her. Not like that. Besides, she already knows somethingīs up."

"Why? What do you mean?"

Terri let her hand drop from my arm, slipping it around my lower back instead and slowly drawing me closer as she spoke, "I got your name tattooed on my ankle, remember? It was kinda hard for her not to notice." She smiled a little, lightly tracing the contours of my face with her other hand, "To be honest, you have no idea how complicated having your name on my ankle has made my love life for the last seven years."

The thought made me laugh and I spoke without thinking, "Good, Iīm glad to hear it."

Terri smiled again, her eyes focused on my lips as her hand moved around to the base on my neck, and I knew she was going to kiss me now if I didnīt stop her or pull away.

I did neither.

Episode 35

"Did you know that my Dad has read all of your books?"

Terri paused just as she was about to dive in for another kiss, "Youīre kidding?"

"Nope." I grinned at the expression on her face, which was quite frankly a mixture of surprise, satisfaction and horror. "He keeps them in the bookcase reserved for all his favourites. You should feel honoured."

"Oh my God…" Terri flopped back down on her back beside me and I used the opportunity to sling a leg over hers and move just that little closer. "Thatīs terrible."

"Why?" I regarded her, fairly bemused by her reaction. "Donīt you want people to read your books? Or have I missed some crucial point here?"

"Well, of course I want people to read them, but your dad…" Terriīs gaze strayed upwards for a moment as she took in the sight of the ceiling and I could swear a faint blush had risen to her cheeks. "You know… some of the stuff is pretty… well, you know…"

"Hot?" I offered helpfully, suppressing a new grin. "Steamy? Sexy?" I leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially into her ear, "Moist…?"

"Oh God," was Terriīs only response as she hid her face in her hands. I laughed out loud, nearly missing her low mumble, "How am I ever going to look him in the eye again? Heīs gotta know some of that stuff was inspired by you."

Her words immediately wiped the grin off my face and I reached out to pull her hands away, looking at her very seriously as I tried to ignore the panic about to seize me, "What?"

"Well, you know…" Terri made a vague gesture with her hands and this time it was she trying not to smile. "Sometimes itīs too hard to come up with something so you just take stuff from real life. Slightly altered of course," she added quickly when she saw the reaction her revelation got. "Itīs not like I have been putting everything we have ever done down on paper and then had it published. I mean, itīs only been one book, okay two, the rest have just been mainly about straight characters and so."

"Oh God," I exclaimed as all colour drained from my face, subconsciously echoing Terriīs words from earlier. "I did think some of the situations seemed familiar when I first read them, but I just thought… Oh God… Those two books youīre referring to happen to be my Dadīs absolute favourites of your work. I even heard him commenting some time ago on how great the character interaction was."

That elicited a tremendous laugh from Terri while I in turn didnīt see the humour of it, and was instead wondering when the earth would open to swallow me up whole, and quite honestly hoping it would just about now. When I buried my face in Terriīs neck, she began to laugh so hard her entire body shook, "So he liked the interaction, did he? Now thatīs just sick! Reading about your daughterīs sex life. Eww!"

"Yeah well, Miss I-canīt-be-bothered-to-come-up-with-something-new, heīs been reading about your sex life, too, then." Each phrase was accentuated by a not too friendly poke in her chest, but Terri just kept laughing, apparently having recovered from her own embarrassment minutes earlier, and in response I moved away and sat up on the bed in a display of the proper righteous indignation.

"Now, now, come back here," Terri spoke with a smile, making a real effort to get herself under control as she pulled me down into her arms again, closing them firmly around me. "Donīt be so mortified by all this, sweetheart, your dad is probably like most dads, and in my experience they are quite capable of pretending that their daughters donīt have a sex life, let alone know thereīs such a thing as sex in the first place. If he has had the slightest suspicion you might have been one source of inspiration for some scenes, and I do mean one source of, not the only source, Iīm sure he banished that thought from his mind quicker than you can count to three."

"Hmm… perhaps…" I was about to allow myself to be mollified - after a suitable punishment for Terri of course - when something she had just said struck and, deciding to have a little fun, I asked dryly, giving her a look, "Not the only source, eh? So, tell me, who were the others?"

The question seemed to surprise Terri, or maybe she was just surprised by how serious I suddenly acted, because she didnīt answer at first and I could feel her body stiffen just a little. "Well…" she finally began, not really comfortable looking into my eyes, but making herself do it anyway. "Itīs not like Iīve… I mean… but…"

"Hey," I whispered quietly, breaking off any further words by kissing her softly on the lips for a few moments. "I was just teasing you, baby, you donīt have to say anything. I wasnīt being serious."

"Oh…" Terri was clearly relieved by that, but something still appeared to trouble her and from, a sometimes hard-earned, experience I kept silent, waiting for her to speak her mind. "Thatīs good…" she spoke at length, moving a hand to caress my face. "You had me worried there for a sec. But you know… even though I… I mean, obviously I havenīt been celibate all this time, but…"

As she trailed off, searching for a way to express herself better, I was surprised to feel just the slightest sting from her last remark. However, I did my best to hide it, recognizing the ridiculousness and futility of it. After all, it wasnīt like I had been celibate for the last seven years myself. Granted, I hadnīt exactly been making notches by the dozen in my bedpost either, but there had been a few and naturally Terri had to be aware of that, too.

"Even though it didnīt quite turn out the way I wanted it to," Terri suddenly spoke, disrupting my line of thought. "And even though it wasnīt… well… the best of break-ups back then, I never regretted it - I mean, I never regretted meeting you." She gave me a small pensive smile, her eyes running over my face as she continued quietly, "Iīm not gonna lie and say it didnīt hurt when you first left me in London, it did, but that doesnīt quite excuse my overreacting like that, and I know that at the end of the day I probably hurt you a lot more than you did me. I know this wasnīt planned," she indicated our entwined bodies with her hand, "and I want you to know that I totally understand if you donīt want to get too serious again, or even want to try again. But no matter what you decide, I still want you to know that although I have been with other people after you, no one ever came close to being as important to me as you. No one made me feel the way you did… and still do."

"What are you trying to say, Cavanagh?" I asked teasingly, purposely trying to block out the sincerity in Terriīs voice because I wasnīt sure I was ready to deal with that and desperately wanted to keep things light between us. If only for a little while longer. But then of course I had to ruin it by adding, in a tone bereft of playfulness, "Are you saying you still love me?"

Terri just looked at me, then sighed, sounding almost resigned, and said with a faint smile, "Yes. I still love you, Sarah, I have already told you that. But what really matters is, do you still love me?"

For some reason I swallowed involuntarily as both conflicting thoughts and voices calling out in warning filled my exhausted head, then I nodded quickly, but that wasnīt enough to satisfy Terri and she shook her head slowly, speaking softly, "No, I want you to say it."

As I looked into her questioning eyes, seeing both anticipation and fear, I knew I couldnīt lie to her, not even to protect myself. And maybe I didnīt really care to any more either because before I knew what was happening, I heard myself say, feeling and sounding so calm I surprised even myself, "I still love you, Terri. I never stopped loving you. Sometimes I wish I did; in fact, there have been several times in the past years I wish I did, but no matter how hard I tried I never seemed to be able to completely dispel you from my heart. You told me once that you always aim to leave a lasting impression… well, sweetheart," I gently traced her collarbone with my finger, speaking with just the slightest hint of a smile that belied the sudden sadness I was experiencing, "in this case you definitely succeeded."

Terri took in my words without a visible reaction and she didnīt speak herself, but the look in her eyes told me all I needed to know, and I sighed inwardly, feeling like I had just sealed my fate.

For the second time.

Terri and I spent a nice couple of days together in Dublin after that. Sort of. To be honest, it could have been better. It might have been more than nice, it might even have been very romantic, if Terri had actually had the time to be with me more than an hour here, an hour there. She did warn me beforehand that she had several business obligations to fulfil before she could allow herself to relax, and I didnīt mind that, but that didnīt mean I wouldnīt have preferred to see more of her - although that might have been the wrong wording because I did see quite a lot of her when we did manage to find time to be together, but that wasnīt what I had in mind. I was trying to get to know her all over again, to find out - even if I wasnīt openly admitting it to myself - whether there was a new chance for us, but since that required Terri to actually be present I wasnīt getting very far and had way too much time to speculate on my own.

If we went out to dinner or to some tourist sight, her cell phone would invariably ring - usually it was Caroline asking where she was and if she didnīt have time to make an appearance at some place or other - and even though Terri mostly declined, she didnīt seem frightfully bothered by the interruptions which, in turn, bothered me. There were even times when people would come over to talk to her, to comment on one of her books or just say hi, and though that did bother her, she kept it well hidden and I was only able to tell because I had long ago become an expert in reading Terriīs body language. It wasnīt that she didnīt enjoy their praise; she did, but she didnīt seem to know what to say in return except "thank you" and "Iīm glad you liked it," and she was always relieved once they left again.

One late evening just before dusk, while strolling slowly through the city, I asked her if she thought she would eventually get used to the attention and people wanting to discuss her work. But she just smiled enigmatically and took my hand without answering as we continued toward her hotel. Then after we had walked a few minutes in silence, she spoke suddenly, "I donīt mind the attention as long as itīs the good kind. If people are friendly or have something interesting to say it can actually be quite nice to talk to them, but if they just want to say that they hated every word or that the last book was so much better than the crap you just published, then itīs definitely something I can do without."

I turned to her, looking at her in surprise, "Do people actually say that to you?"

Terri shrugged briefly, answering lightly and with an indifference I wasnīt completely sure was genuine, "Youīd be surprised."

"What do you do when that happens?"

She shrugged again, her eyes following a lone car driving past us, "I usually say nothing and just sign the book. I mean, what can I say?"

"So," I said slowly, just to make sure I had understood her correctly. "People come over, tell you how much they hated something you have written, and then still have the nerve to ask you to sign something?"

"Pretty much."

"Jesus Christ…" I shook my head incredulously, staring at Terri who now seemed slightly amused by my indignation. "The next time something like that happens you have to promise me to tell them to drop dead or fuck off. Preferably both."

My heated words caused Terri to laugh quietly and she gave my hand an affectionate squeeze as she spoke wryly, "Well, I actually did that once, a long time ago."

"Oh?" I was suddenly curious. "What happened?"

Terri laughed again, "Caroline didnīt approve."

I wanted her to elaborate further and was about to ask, but didnīt have the time as she continued, seemingly even more amused than before, "But you donīt have to worry, Sarah, I can take care of myself just fine and sometimes it can be quite entertaining. I remember a couple of years ago I got a call in the middle of the night from a British tabloid that threatened to 'out me' if I didnīt give them an exclusive interview."

This information brought me to a complete standstill and I stared at her. "No? Seriously?"

"Oh yeah," Terri nodded, stepping closer and slipping her arms around my lower back. "They said that if I didnīt talk to them, my sexual orientation would be plastered all over the front page of next weekīs edition."

"What did you do?" I asked, feeling completely flabbergasted that someone would actually do something like that, and also a little puzzled by Terriīs devil-may-care attitude to it. "Did you threaten to sue if they went ahead with it?"

A small, but clearly self-satisfied smile appeared on Terriīs face, "No, not exactly…" The smile turned into a grin. "I told them I was sorry to break it to them, but they had to be the very last people on the planet who didnīt know I was gay, and that I couldnīt care less what they wrote about me. And then I hung up and went back to bed."

"God…" I shook my head, unable not to grin myself. "I can tell you havenīt been bored since we last saw each other. So, did they use the story after all?"

Terri didnīt respond at first and looked away, her good spirits suddenly having left her. Then, exhaling softly, she looked back at me and said with a tired smile, "They ran a story about my suicide attempt instead. Even tracked down Alan and Jenny trying to get all the gory details."

I was speechless, not knowing whether I should be angry or sad, but somehow I managed to get out, "Iīm so sorry, Terri… I donīt…"

"Itīs okay," came Terriīs casual answer and I knew that if I hadnīt just put my arms around her neck she would have shrugged yet another time. "It didnīt really bother me, but it upset my parents and those of my friends who didnīt know, and I was a bit angry about that. But what the heck… itīs all in the past now. No reason to brood over that any more."

"No… but still…" I objected, not quite ready to let go of the anger I was feeling on Terriīs behalf. "Such arseholes, they shouldnīt be allowed to get away with that."

"Yeah well…" was all Terri said and after that we dropped the subject and began to talk about more cheerful matters until we reached the hotel.

As I had halfway expected, but not seriously believed would really happen, the phone in Terriīs room started to ring the moment she closed the door behind us. I didnīt have to listen to Terriīs deep sigh as she picked up to tell it was Caroline and her impeccable timing on the other end. That woman had an unnervingly accurate sixth sense when it came to Terri and her whereabouts, and I was actually ready to believe she might have her tagged in some way to be able to keep so closely track of her. However, in that moment I didnīt mind too much, because I knew without a doubt there was no way Terriīs agent would be able to persuade her to go anywhere that night. I had only one day left of my holiday and Terri had taken great delight in teasing me all evening, whispering into my ear the things she intended to do to me later, completely unrepentant about the blush that would invariably colour my cheeks, and judging from her answering grin I knew she planned to follow up on each and every one of her promises.

Idly listening with only half an ear as Terri initiated the lengthy and laborious process of getting Caroline to understand the meaning of the word "no" and subsequently off the phone, I headed for the bathroom, intending to use the moment to freshen up a little. Lost in thought and already filled with anticipation of what would happen next, I quickly finished and was about to leave the bathroom again when I noticed something on the edge of the sink, almost hidden behind an extra complimentary bar of soap. My mind instantly recognized what it was and yet I hesitated, almost as if I was trying to make myself believe I hadnīt seen anything, but then I reached out slowly, my fingers closing around the small pill bottle.

I held it in my hand for almost a minute before I felt capable of studying the label, unwilling to have my suspicions confirmed. But there it was. Terri was on antidepressants, not an overly strong kind, and compared to the stuff I had seen in her motherīs medicine cabinet that Christmas long ago, hers was almost like candy, but even as I thought that I felt the first cold waves of fear wash over me. In all our time together in Dublin, she hadnīt said a word about this and although I couldnīt really blame her for not saying anything, I couldnīt help but feel that she should have. If Terri was taking these pills, it meant she was taking them for a reason and that reason I was really interested in hearing about.

It wasnīt that I had a problem with her taking the medication as such, and had it been anybody else I would never have given the matter a second thought. But it wasnīt anybody else, it was Terri - Terri who had once been so upset by our break-up and life in general that she tried to kill herself. And if there was just the slightest chance of something like that happening again… if she was still that volatile…

Closing my eyes, I clutched the pill bottle in my hand so hard it hurt. There was no way I would be able to go through that ordeal again. There just wasnīt.

"About time," Terri commented with a smile from her sprawled-out position on the bed. "I was about to go in and look for you. I thought you might have gotten lost. Now, come here," she patted the surface of the bed beside her, giving me her most ingratiating look. "I believe we had plans for tonight."

I did as she asked, but instead of lying down next to her like she wanted, I sat down on the edge of the bed, keeping a few inches between us.

"Sarah?" Terri studied me, first nonplussed then alarmed, and she sat up as well, her brow furrowed as she attempted to understand my sudden change of mood. "Whatīs going on? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no," I hurried to reassure her, smiling briefly. "Not at all..."

Terri regarded me carefully as I faltered, the expression on her face going from concerned to thoughtful. Then she gave me an almost imperceptible nod of encouragement, silently urging me to continue. That caused me to smile once more, surprised and pleased by how quickly we had become attuned to one another again and how well we seemed to communicate without having to use words. But as nice as that was, it wasnīt quite sufficient in this case and I sighed to myself, knowing that for me to learn all I wanted to know I would have to actually say something out loud.

Deciding we had been through too much together to want to beat about the bush, I spoke, keeping my tone even and matter-of-fact, "I saw a pill bottle with antidepressants in the bathroom, Terri, and even though I could tell it was some pretty mild stuff, I would like to know if itīs something I should be worried about? I know itīs none of my business, but I have to ask because I care about you and because of the history we have together. I need to know if… if…" Suddenly unable to finish the sentence I halted uncertainly, counting on Terri to read between the lines.

"You need to know if what took place in London is likely to happen again?" Terri asked quietly, but her question was mainly rhetorical; we both knew that was exactly what I wanted to know. Still, I nodded in confirmation, my gaze trailing away from her face and down to the bed. "That was a one-time thing," Terri spoke, even as she reached out and gently got me to lift my head and meet her eyes again. "I was young, stupid and theatrical. If I had stopped for just one second to think about what it was I was actually going to do, I would have realized how absolutely idiotic it really was. As it were, I was lucky to survive and I have been utterly grateful for that ever since. So no, Sarah, you have no reason to be worried."

"No?" I looked into her eyes, seeing a quiet confidence there I had never associated with Terri before.

"No." She smiled faintly and we held each otherīs gaze for a long time, trying to read the otherīs innermost thoughts and feelings.

I donīt know how much time passed that way, but Terri was the first to finally break the comfortable silence that had fallen between us as she let out a low breath, speaking very quietly, "I am what I am, Sarah, and nothingīs going to change that. I will probably never be quite the way you would like me to be and Iīm not likely to ever be like most people, I think we both know that by now, and I know I can be difficult to live with, but I promise you that I will do my damnedest to make you happy. I love you and I want you in my life. And if you give me that second chance…" Never severing eye contact, she reached down to take both of my hands into hers, almost as though she needed the physical connection, "If you allow me back into your life… I canīt promise you that youīll never regret it, but Iīm going to do my best that you never do."

It took a while before I was able to answer, and when I did, my voice was barely more than a whisper, "Itīs not that I donīt want to, Terri… these last couple of days with you have been wonderful and I have thought constantly about us getting back together…"

"But?" Terri inquired softly, displaying a near supernatural patience, which was something else I hadnīt associated with her before.

"But Iīm scared… Iīm scared that it might end like it did the first time around."

To my surprise, something that sounded a lot like a laugh escaped Terriīs throat, "Donīt you think Iīm scared shitless of that, too? Of course I am, of course I worry about that, too, but I also figure that we must have gotten a little wiser since the last time, and if only we work hard at not making the same mistakes twice then it can only get better. A lot better. Iīm not saying itīs going to be easy, but I really think itīs worth a shot. So…" She looked at me, losing some of her calm and appearing quite eager, but also very nervous all of a sudden as she tightened her hold on my hands. "What do you say?"

Continued in Part 8.