These characters don’t belong to me. I just borrowed them for a while.

Adult content.

It Was Always You

Part Six

by

Jan

"C.C., I think that’s about all for today," Max said without looking up from his desk.

"Maxwell, what are you talking about? We still have to meet with the set director this afternoon!" C.C. said perturbed. She was getting very tired of carrying so much of the load by herself on this new production. She knew Max was going through some kind of personal trauma, but she found it hard not to get exasperated with him these days.

"Can’t you handle that yourself? I think it will go much better without me. I really can’t keep my mind on work today," he explained, taking off his glasses and looking at her blankly.

C.C. started to protest, but then realized the uselessness of it. With the way Maxwell had been acting lately, he wouldn’t really be much help. "Fine," she said, gathering her things. "I’ll see you tomorrow." She left his office, trying not to let her impatience with him show.

Max waited until she left before reaching for the scotch. He thought for a moment about whether or not to even bother with a glass. Finally, he poured the tumbler full and put the stopper back in the bottle. He noticed it was nearly empty and made a mental note to remind Niles to stock up soon.

He took a large gulp of the scotch and stared into the glass as he swirled the liquor around it. It was only two o’clock in the afternoon, but he had a pretty good idea what his plans would be for the rest of the day. The only thing he had to decide was if he would stay there in his office or go sit on the living room couch to drink himself into oblivion.

C.C. stopped in the kitchen to drop off her coffee cup. "Leaving so soon?" Niles inquired of her.

"Yes, I have to go meet with the set director. Maxwell’s in one of his moods again today," she said, irritation evident in her voice.

"Oh, dear, I’d better get in there," said Niles as he began to scurry around preparing some tea.

As C.C. turned to leave, she said, "I hope he’s in a better mood tomorrow. We have a lot of work to do." Then she disappeared out the door.

Niles thought to himself that there wasn’t much chance of Mr. Sheffield being in a better mood tomorrow or the next day or any time soon as long as things remained the way they were. Within a few minutes, he had the tray ready. It was a little early for afternoon tea, but he hoped offering it to Mr. Sheffield would head off the afternoon drinking binge. He picked up the tray and headed briskly toward his boss’ office. As he came through the door, he could tell he was already too late.

Max sat at his desk with his head in his left hand and Fran’s picture in the other. He didn’t even notice Niles until he was standing next to him.

"Sir, I thought you might like some tea," Niles stated.

"What?" Max looked up at him. "Oh, yes, Niles, I’d love some, as long as it comes out of a bottle marked Chivas Regal." He held up the empty decanter and shook it at his butler.

Niles brushed aside his boss’ sarcastic response. "How about something to eat then?" he suggested.

"No, thank you, Niles. I’m not hungry," said Max.

"Sir, is there anything I can get you?" Niles offered helplessly.

Max took a deep breath. "There is something I want, Niles, only you can’t get it for me." His eyes returned to stare at the photo he held. He wanted to see that smile every morning. He wanted to hear that laugh throughout his house. He wanted to feel those arms around him. He wanted the fire, the passion, the joie de vivre that only Fran could bring to his life. He let out a shuddering sigh.

It broke Niles’ heart to see Mr. Sheffield that way. It was worse than after Sara died. That time, at least he’d had the children to keep him going. And then Fran had appeared in his life to make him whole again. This time, Niles could see no reason to hope. "Sir, why don’t you just call her?" he proposed gently.

Max shook his head sadly as he said, "It’s not that simple, Niles. I doubt she’d even talk to me. I said some awful things."

"Now, sir, I’m sure she’d forgive you," Niles reasoned.

"But I don’t want her to forgive me. I want her to hate me. I want her to never want to see me again so she can forget about us and be happy with her husband. I love her so much, Niles, I only want what’s best for her."

"Sir, if I may be so bold, does Fran know that Detective Sheehan came and spoke with you?"

"No. Why?"

"So, she has no idea that the two of you made this decision about her happiness?"

"No, and she never will, Niles."

"Don’t you think she deserves some say in what’s best for her?"

"No!" Max shouted, looking at Niles sternly. Then he caught himself. "I mean of course she does. I mean—oh, I don’t know what I mean." He paused for a few seconds looking back at down at those beautiful, sparkling eyes that gazed back at him from the picture. "All I know is I’ve never managed to give her anything but heartache. And she has a wonderful life with her husband. It’s obvious that he is the one she needs to make her happy. Besides, I gave my word as a bloody gentleman."

"But, sir…"

"Forget it, Niles. Now please get this damn tea out of here and bring me another bottle of scotch."

"Yes, sir," said Niles as he picked up the tray and headed out the door. He went into the kitchen and began cleaning up the dishes from the tea. Besides the fact that he had to deal with a boss who was in absolute shambles, there was something about the entire situation that just didn’t seem right, and that was the fact that the choice about who would make Fran happy had been made for her. If there was one thing Niles had learned over the years about Fran, it was that she was not one to allow others to run her life.

He started to reach for the phone. He’d just make that damn call himself. After all, he hadn’t given anybody his word. He’d have to be very careful how he worded things, though. She had a right to know the truth about why Mr. Sheffield had called things off between them, but he’d have to leave out the part about why. Detective Sheehan and Mr. Sheffield had agreed that Fran would never know about their talk, and even Niles couldn’t bring himself to tell her that her husband had learned about the affair. He could take matters into his own hands when it came to his boss’ welfare, but the other was going too far even for him.

He grabbed the phone book out of the drawer and looked up the number for Fran’s Finds Manhattan. As he dialed, he thought fleetingly that maybe he should have retreated to his own room to make the call so Mr. Sheffield wouldn’t stumble into the kitchen and catch him. Then he reminded himself that it was highly unlikely that his boss would pull himself out of his stupor enough to even be aware of anything happening around him for the rest of the day.

"Fran’s Finds," came that familiar nasal voice from the other end.

"Yes, Miss Fine, I mean, Mrs. Sheehan—" Niles stuttered. He was always at such a loss as to how to refer to her.

"Niles, is that you?" Fran asked surprised. "And, please, would you just call me Fran?"

"Yes, Fran. Thank you. I was wondering if you might have a few minutes."

"Yeah, sure. I always have time for an old friend. Just let me transfer this to my office and then we’ll talk."

While Niles waited, he started running through his head what he was going to say. It wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe it would be better if they talked in person. Then he heard Fran on the other end.

"What is it, Niles? Is everyone ok?"

"Yes, of course. Well, everyone except Mr. Sheffield, that is. In fact, that’s the reason I’m calling."

"Oh, my God, Niles, what happened? Is he hurt?" Fran felt a sudden panic grip her.

"No, no, nothing like that. It’s just that—well, I’d really rather not discuss this on the phone. Could we meet for coffee somewhere?"

"Niles, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong with Max?" Fran demanded.

Niles took a deep breath and said, "Oh, my, where to start? I’ve never seen him in such a state. Never. Not even after the first Mrs. Sheffield passed away. He can’t work, he doesn’t sleep, he won’t eat…"

Fran interrupted him. "Oh, that. Here’s a little new flash for you, Niles. He brought it all on himself, so I wouldn’t feel too sorry for him if I were you."

"Please, Fran. I’m very worried about him."

Fran looked at her watch and let out an exasperated sigh. "All right. I’ll meet you at the little coffee shop down the street in a half hour."

"Thank you. I’ll be there." Niles hung up and headed straight for Mr. Sheffield’s office. Seeing his boss in the same position as he’d left him, he knocked lightly and said, "Excuse me, Mr. Sheffield, but I’ll be going out now to pick up the Chivas. Is there anything else you want while I’m out?"

Without looking up, Max stated glumly, "I thought we covered that, Niles."

"Yes, of course, sir. I shouldn’t be long." As he turned to leave, he wondered what Mr. Sheffield would do if he had any idea that the real purpose of the errand was to try to get just exactly what it was he wanted so much.

Twenty minutes later Niles stepped through the door of the tiny coffee shop on 57^th Street. Looking around, he spotted Fran in the corner booth where the waitress had just set two cups of coffee on the table. He walked toward the booth, and when he got there, Fran stood up and gave him a hug. It was obvious that the two old friends had missed each other. Niles slid into the seat across from her, still unsure as to how he was going to make her understand what the situation was.

Not sure how to start, Niles said, "So, how have you been?"

"I’m doing great," she said brightly. "Very happy. How about you?"

"Oh, I’m doing all right, I suppose." He hesitated for just a moment. He had been very curious as to whether or not she had been experiencing any feelings of loss such as Mr. Sheffield had. Watching her intently, he said, "So, everything’s been going well for you these last few months?"

"Of course they have!" she answered without hesitating. "My shops are doing well, Jeff’s job is going great. Things couldn’t be better. We went on a cruise not too long ago, you know. I’ve got the life I always dreamed of. I’m so lucky."

Niles had to admit she sounded quite convincing. Maybe Mr. Sheffield had been right. Maybe the best thing for her was to forget him and pour her whole heart into her life with her husband. She said she was happy. And when he’d spoken to her on the phone, she had sounded as if she really couldn’t be bothered with any information about Mr. Sheffield’s current mental state. It certainly looked as though she had moved on with her life. However, he still had a strong feeling that she had a right to know about the crucial decision that had been made for her. He decided to forge ahead.

"Fran, thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me. Please promise you won’t tell Mr. Sheffield I’ve spoken with you. He would be absolutely furious with me if he found out."

Fran glanced again at her watch. "Look, Niles, I really don’t know what good you think it will do talking to me. I told you, he has to lie in the bed he made."

"Fran, please listen to me. There’s something you really should know." He took a deep breath and continued, "He didn’t want to do what he did. In fact, it absolutely killed him. That’s why he’s such a mess."

Fran’s eyes narrowed as she looked at him curiously. "Niles, what are you talking about?"

Niles hesitated. "Are you sure you won’t tell?"

"Yeah, yeah. Now dish."

"He thinks by letting you go you’ll eventually be able to forget him and give your love completely to your husband. He believes that you’re better off without him. He loves you so much that he’s determined to let you be happy."

Fran’s eyes widened as the impact of what Niles was saying hit her. "Niles, are you sure?"

"Absolutely positive," he declared.

Fran was astounded. She remembered thinking that day at the Russian Tea Room that it had all seemed so unbelievable. She sat there for a moment, her mind churning. "And all that mishegas about him feeling so guilty…"

"Was a lie," Niles pronounced.

"Oh, my God, Niles!" Fran said, just realizing something. "He knew what he was going to do that last night we were together, didn’t he? He made me promise I would always remember that night and how much he loved me."

"Yes, you should have seen him before you got there. He was a nervous wreck."

Her voice got quiet and she couldn’t keep her lip from quivering. "But he took it all back—everything we had together. He just took it all back."

Niles spoke gently. "Again—all lies. He didn’t take it back in his heart. He loves you so much."

Fran just sat there trying to process all that Niles was saying. She was having a hard time even comprehending it all. Why would Max do such a thing? She had half a mind to just march right over to his house and demand that he tell her the truth. Demand that he give it all back again.

But what good would that do, she asked herself? "I don’t even know what to think, Niles. I mean, I can’t force him to continue our relationship. If this is what he’s decided—" Suddenly, Fran felt a flash of irritation shoot through her. "Damn him!" she shot out. "Where the hell does he get off making such a decision without me! Don’t I have any say-so in what makes me happy?"

"Yes, I believe you do. That’s precisely why I’m here," Niles said, nodding emphatically.

"How in the hell did he ever come up with such an idea?" Fran wanted to know.

"I’m sure I don’t know." Niles began shifting nervously in his seat. They were drifting into dangerous territory here.

Fran looked at Niles intently. She could always tell when he was holding something back. "Come on, Niles, if I’m gonna have any chance of understanding this ridiculous scheme of his, then I need all the details. What made him decide to do this?"

"It’s not my place to say," Niles said uneasily.

Fran’s mind was turning a mile a minute trying to figure out what in the world had prompted Max to let her go. As she thought back through all the excuses he’d given her, suddenly she recalled something he’d said that day at the restaurant. It had struck her as a bit odd, but she was in so much pain and shock at the time that she hadn’t really processed it. Always before, his excuses were all about him. But he’d mentioned something about wanting to make sure that she never had to go through the same thing with Jeff. What the hell was that all about?

Suddenly a cold numbness came over her. She looked at Niles with huge eyes and a look of horror on her face. "Niles, you have to be honest with me now. Did Max come up with this on his own, or did someone else talk him into it?"

Niles couldn’t look at her. This had been a mistake. It wasn’t going as he’d planned. "I’ve said too much already," he said, shaking his head.

Fran reached across the table and grabbed his arm, forcing him to look directly at her. "Tell me, Niles. Was it Jeff? Did Jeff confront Max? Does he know?"

Niles started to plead innocence, but Fran’s desperate look made his heart go out to her. This was no time to play coy. She had a right to know what had been going on with the men in her life. He paused for just a moment, trying to decide the best way to break it to her. Finally, he took a deep breath and looked directly at her. "Well, all I know is that Detective Sheehan came to the house one day a few months ago looking none too happy and asked to speak to Mr. Sheffield. I overheard some very heated words between them, and then your husband left quite abruptly. Afterwards, Mr. Sheffield told me that he had to stay away from you. When I asked him why, he simply said because he truly loved you. It wasn’t more than a few days afterward that you and Mr. Sheffield had your last evening together there at the house."

Fran suddenly felt a shock wave hit her. Jeff knew? She just sat there staring in disbelief. Her mind starting running back through everything that had happened between her and Jeff over the last several months, ever since that last night with Max. Their cruise, the silver necklace—she couldn’t believe he had known all that time. She’d had no idea he was such a good actor to be able to hide his feelings so well.

"Fran, I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you all this," Niles said apologetically. "It’s just that I was so concerned about Mr. Sheffield. I’m sure if you could only see what a state he’s in, you’d understand why I felt so compelled to speak with you."

Fran still sat staring incredulous over what she had just learned about her husband. Niles’ last comment had barely registered with her. Finally, she blinked a few times and then looked at her friend. "What did you say, Niles?" she asked.

"I said I’m sorry to have to tell you all this," he repeated.

Still stunned, she stared at him blankly. "No, that’s ok. Thank you, Niles. I really appreciate it—I just have no idea what I’m going to do now."

Niles couldn’t help being a little disappointed. He had truly hoped that telling her would prompt her to go running to Mr. Sheffield and tell him how foolish he’d been. But maybe that was just too much to ask. Niles had nothing against Detective Sheehan. He seemed a very nice chap and he knew that Fran really loved him. But Niles had done everything he could think of for over ten years to get Fran and Mr. Sheffield together, and he just wasn’t ready to give up that dream yet.

Just then, the waitress came by their table and offered to refill their cups. Niles motioned for her to top off Fran’s and then stood up and tossed a few dollars down on the table. It was obvious that Fran needed some time to herself. The bomb he had just dropped was going to take a while for her to process. As he turned to leave, he spoke very quietly, "Please call me if there’s anything."

"Thanks," she said without looking up. She took a sip of her coffee as Niles exited through the coffee shop door. He glanced back at her, still unsure if he’d done the right thing. But at least now she knew why Mr. Sheffield had called things off between them, and maybe it would ease her broken heart a little.

Fran sat there trying to sort out the myriad emotions racing through her. She looked down and noticed that her hands were shaking, and she knew that was because of the panic that was overwhelming her. What if Jeff finally confronted her about why she had betrayed him? How could she possibly explain it? What could she say that could come anywhere close to accounting for her actions? Would he scream at her? Throw things? Or would he just break down and cry? However he reacted, he would be justified. She had thought many times over the past couple of years about how unscrupulous she had been to break her wedding vows, and no matter how many different ways she rationalized it, she knew she deserved whatever reaction she might get from Jeff if he ever found out.

The thing that totally amazed her, though, was that Jeff seemed to have already forgiven her. He hadn’t said a word to her and continued to act as if nothing had happened. God, she wasn’t worthy of a husband who loved her so much that he was willing to overlook her terrible betrayal. Suddenly, it became clear to her why Jeff had never demanded an explanation from her. He had known all along that she had never gotten over her love for Maxwell Sheffield, and he understood that she probably never would on her own. That’s why he had gone to Max instead of confronting her.

The realization of why Jeff had handled things that way made her feel worse than she thought possible. Her remorse was simply overwhelming. How could she ever apologize enough for what she had done? She was deeply sorry—she’d never intended to hurt him. But her love for Max was so powerful, that she had to be honest and admit that there was simply no possibility of denying it. Should she tell that to Jeff? Would that help him understand, or just makes him feel worse? God, she was so confused.

And all her remorse was tinged with just a little bit of anger—at both of them. They had conspired to determine her fate without consulting her. And even though she felt terrible for Jeff, she couldn’t help feeling a small amount of irritation at him for attempting to manipulate the situation rather than coming to her. And she was really angry with Max for giving her up so easily and for pulling a repeat of that taking back the thing business. She breathed a deep sigh. Well, that tactic had worked, she conceded.

Her feelings of anger at her two men seemed to clear her head a bit. She looked down at her watch and realized she’d been sitting there nursing that cup of coffee for nearly an hour. There was no way she could go back to the shop and concentrate on work that day. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, dialed Josh, and instructed him to go ahead and close up the store early. Remembering that Niles had already paid for their coffee, she walked out of the café and headed toward her car. But the closer she got to it, the more her steps slowed as she realized how apprehensive she was about going home.

By the time she got into her car and started it, she felt as though she was moving in slow motion. The weight of everything she’d learned that day was really pressing down on her. Home was going to be a different place now, knowing that Jeff knew about her and Max. How was she supposed to act now around him? Would he be able to read it on her face? And what if he was waiting for her, ready to pounce and demand an explanation? She wasn’t prepared for that. No words she could come up with would ever justify what she had done. And would she be able to look into his eyes now and read a deep hurt there? And if so, why hadn’t she seen it before?

As she turned onto her street, she recalled at one time hoping that she would never be faced with making the choice between Jeff and Max. Well, now the choice had been made for her, and she should just be thankful. Jeff was her husband and she loved him. Max was a mess and he’d given her up—again. Any way she looked at it, Jeff was the right choice. But was he the choice she would have made for herself? Of course he was. After all, she’d chosen him once before over Max, and she would definitely have chosen him again. Wouldn’t she?

Fran pulled her car into the garage and shut off the engine. Thank God Jeff wasn’t home yet. She needed some time to think before she had to face him. Her head was swirling—she needed to get a handle on things. She reached for her cell phone as she was getting out of the car and dialed Val.

"Hello?" came Val’s familiar voice.

"Val, what are you doing? Are you busy there at the store?" Fran asked.

"No, I just finished with a customer, and I was thinking about closing up a little early."

"Do it and come over to my house. I really need to talk to you," Fran pleaded.

"Fran, you sound frantic. What’s wrong?" Val inquired, concern in her voice.

Fran went on into the kitchen and dropped her things on the counter. "Val, Jeff knows about Max." Voicing the truth made all the sorrow and regret burst forth as her tears came in a flood. She collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table.

"Oh, my God, Fran. I’ll be there in a few minutes," was Val’s worried response.

By the time Val got there Fran hadn’t moved from her spot as she sobbed and mopped up tears. She looked up and said, "Thanks for coming, Val. I was gonna make us some tea, but…" Her shoulders began shaking as another flood of tears came.

"You sit, I’ll make," said Val as she grabbed the kettle and filled it with water at the sink. "Fran, are you sure he knows?" All Fran could do was nod. "How do you know? Did he say anything to you?" Val set the kettle on the stove and turned on the burner. She walked over and sat at the table with Fran.

Fran took a few seconds to get her sobbing under control. "Niles told me. He said Jeff came to the house a few months ago and had a talk with Max. Right after that was when Max started pulling away from me."

"You mean he’s known for a while and hasn’t said anything to you about it?" Fran nodded again. Val sat thinking for a minute. "Oh, my God, Fran, do you realize what that means? It means Jeff loves you so much he doesn’t want to risk losing you even though you cheated on him. So he went to Max instead of confronting you."

"I know, Val."

"And it means that Max still loves you and wants you, and all that business about taking it back again was a load of crap."

"I know, Val."

"Fran, what are you going to do?"

Fran looked at her best friend surprised. "What do you mean what am I gonna do? I’m gonna try to make it up to my husband for all the pain I’ve caused him. I’m gonna start being the wife he deserves."

"What about Max?" Val asked tentatively.

"Val, Max and I are over," Fran pronounced adamantly.

Val looked at Fran skeptically. "You still love him, don’t you?"

Fran got a pained look on her face. "Oh, Val, you know I do. I still love him so much, and I know I always will." Val just sat there shaking her head. "Wha?" Fran asked.

"Fran, you know Max still loves and wants you, and you still love him. Things are not over between you two."

"Yes they are, Val. He told me it was best if we stay apart, and he was right. I have to forget him and concentrate on my life with Jeff."

"Which you’re never going to be able to do until you talk to Max," Val argued. "You can’t leave things the way they are. You two need some closure if you’re gonna be able to really move on with your lives."

Fran sat there thinking about what Val had just suggested. God, it would be so hard seeing him again. She had told him good-bye twice before. Did she have another farewell in her? But deep down she knew Val was right. They couldn’t live the rest of their lives with the lie that was between them. "But I promised Niles I wouldn’t tell Max that he told me."

"Niles will get over it," Val said. "This is too important. Why did he decide to come to you in the first place? I mean, he’s known about this for months. Why now?"

"He said Max was a mess and he was worried about him. He didn’t know what else to do." Fran sobbed again.

"All the more reason to go talk to Max." Just then, the kettle started whistling and Val got up to pour the hot water into the mugs and add the tea bags. Setting Fran’s down in front of her, she said, "When was the last time you talked to him?" Val slid back into her chair.

"We ran into each other at the deli about a month ago." Fran took a deep breath, and wailed, "Oh, God, Val, I was so mean to him. I told him to leave, and I think I saw tears in his eyes."

"He deserves to know that you will always love him and that you understand what he did for you," Val said earnestly.

Fran took a sip of her tea and thought for a moment. "You’re right, Val. If I’m ever gonna be able to give myself completely to Jeff, I’ve gotta talk to Max. We’ve got to settle things once and for all. It’s just gonna be so hard. For both of us."

Just then, they heard the garage door going up. Fran’s eyes shot open. "Jeff’s home! Thank God you’re here, Val. I’d be a nervous wreck if I had to face him alone after everything that happened today."

"Calm down, Fran. He doesn’t know that you know. Just act normal."

Fran wiped her tears and took another sip of her tea. "How do I look, Val?"

"Like hell," her friend stated honestly.

Just then, Jeff came through the kitchen door. Fran suddenly let out a peal of fake laughter. Val looked at her startled for a moment and then joined in. "Val, stop it! You’re making me laugh so hard my eyes are watering!"

Val said, "Was that just too funny or what?"

"What’s so funny, you two? Hi ya, Val," said Jeff as he walked around the table to give Fran a kiss.

"Hi, Jeff. Oh, I was just telling Fran about this weird customer I had today. It’s a long story—I’ll tell you another time."

"Ok," he said. Then, turning to Fran, he said, "Honey, I’m really tired. I’m going to hit the shower before dinner."

"Oh, ok, honey," Fran said, tossing a look of relief toward Val. "Gee, I guess it is time to start thinking about dinner, isn’t it?"

"Yeah, whatever you want is fine with me," Jeff said as he left the kitchen pulling his tie from around his neck.

Fran looked at Val. "Do you think he bought it?"

"Yeah. Although…"

"Although what, Val?"

"You’ve got to get yourself together, Fran. Or he’s gonna figure it out."

"I know. Val, will you stay for dinner tonight?" Fran pleaded.

"Fran, you’re going to have to face him on your own some time," Val told her.

"I know, Val. But not tonight. I’m still trying to sort out everything Niles told me today. Please?"

Val took a deep breath. "Ok. As long as you’re not cooking."

Fran let go a small chuckle. The lighthearted moment felt good amidst all the heavy emotions she’d been dealing with all afternoon. "How about we order a pizza?" she suggested.

By the time Jeff was out of the shower, the pizza had arrived, and the three friends sat around the living room chatting and catching up. While Val was relating a humorous story about one of the guys who had made a delivery at the shop, Fran took the opportunity to steal a few sideways glances at Jeff. She tried not to stare, but the more she looked, the more she thought she could detect something. She soon realized that she wasn’t imagining things—it was definitely there. A hint of sadness in his face, a trace of deep hurt lurking in his beautiful blue eyes. Why hadn’t she noticed it before?

Finally, Jeff pulled himself up off the floor and started cleaning up the mess. "Well, if you two lovely ladies don’t mind, I think I’ll go watch the Rangers game."

"That’s fine, honey. Just leave the mess. I’ll take care of it," Fran offered.

"You sure?"

"Sure I’m sure. Go watch the game."

As Jeff walked by Fran, he stopped to bend over and give her a little kiss on the top of her head. She and Val stood up, picking up the empty pizza box and dishes and heading into the kitchen.

After getting things put away, Val turned to her best friend. "Are you gonna be ok now?"

"Yeah, thanks, Val."

"Ok, I’m gonna go." She started toward the door before stopping and turning back to her best friend. "Fran, did you see..?"

"Yeah," Fran interrupted her. "I saw. Why didn’t I ever see it before?"

"You couldn’t see a lot of things before. I guess things are gonna be different now."

"Yeah, I got a lot of making up to do to him. Thanks for everything, Val."

"Goodnight," said Val. "I’ll call ya tomorrow." After Val left, Fran stood in the kitchen leaning on the counter and staring off into space. God, what a day! She had been in shock all afternoon since learning why Max had ended things and that Jeff had somehow found out about the affair. But now that the initial surprise was beginning to wear off, she was getting a clearer picture of what she needed to do, and the end result, she hoped, would be that finally her divided heart would become whole again.

*****************

Fran paused for a moment before pushing open the door to Nello’s. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. She had been going over in her head all day what she was going to say, but she was afraid that one look at those green eyes and all coherent thoughts would just fly out of her head.

She opened the door and stepped inside. Giving her name to the maitre d’, she asked if the other party had arrived. Upon being told no, she breathed a quick sigh of relief, thankful for the few more minutes it gave her to prepare. She was shown to a table and ordered a bottle of Dom Perignon, smiling to herself at the memory that it was Maxwell who had introduced her to the exquisite champagne so many years ago.

After the maitre d’ seated her, she thought back to the look on Jeff’s face when she had told him that she and Val were going to have a girls’ night out—dinner and a movie. Thank God it was the last lie she would ever have to tell her husband about her whereabouts. And even though he said it was fine with him, ever since she’d learned that he was aware of what had gone on between her and Max, she always wondered if he still held any suspicions every time she left his sight. A powerful wave of regret washed over her as she realized that no matter how hard she worked to rebuild a sense of trust between them, he would probably always harbor some misgivings about her. And she couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of mourning for the permanent damage she had done to their marriage.

She glanced at her watch and noted that Maxwell was a few minutes late. That was so unlike him, it made her wonder if he was going to show at all. He had sounded very reluctant on the phone when she had called and asked him to meet her. She should have expected it, though, knowing how much he hated to talk about his feelings. They both knew it would be a very emotional evening, but she had managed to convince him that they really needed to talk.

Just then she was startled out of her reverie by that unmistakable British voice saying, "Hello, Fran." Looking up, she reached out her hand and felt a small surge as he took it in his and lightly kissed the back of it. As he sat down across from her, he said, "Sorry I’m late. Traffic."

"That’s ok. It’s good to see you," she said, smiling a bit uneasily.

"It’s so wonderful seeing you," he said, looking at her directly with a reflective look in his eye.

There was an awkward moment before the waiter showed up with their champagne. Grateful for the reprieve, they both sat in silence while the bottle was opened and their drinks were poured. After barely perusing the menus, Fran and Max both settled on the fettuccine, knowing that it was quite unlikely either would have the appetite for it.

The waiter left their table, and Fran leaned forward and looked at Max earnestly. The combination of longing and utter loss she read in his eyes made it difficult for her to speak. "Maxwell, thank you so much for agreeing to meet me tonight," she finally managed to say.

"Of course." He forced a slight smile. "You sounded on the phone as if it were rather pressing," he told her.

"Well, I think it’s really important that we talk." She paused, taking a deep breath. How in the world should she start?

Sensing her discomfort, Max picked up his glass and held it toward her. "How about we begin with a toast?" he offered.

She smiled her gratitude and held up her glass. "What shall we toast to?" she asked.

"Well, as I recall, the last time we toasted to old friends and new beginnings."

Fran felt a small lump form in her throat. Swallowing, she said quietly, "How about just to old friends?"

Max smiled at her wistfully and repeated, "To old friends." They each took a sip and Fran set her glass back down on the table while Max stared into his, spinning the stem back and forth in his fingers.

"Max," Fran began, "I know this is hard to talk about, but there are some things I want to clear up with you."

Max set his glass down and looked directly at her. "All right."

"Well, first of all, did you know Niles and I had a talk a few weeks ago?" she asked.

"Yes, and I wasn’t very happy with him when he told me about it."

"So he actually admitted to you that he blabbed?" she asked with eyebrows slightly raised. "That’s so unlike him."

"Well, when he found out we were having dinner together this evening, I guess he figured he better come clean," Max explained.

Fran repressed a small smile as she pictured Niles standing in front of Max’s desk spouting his confession. "I hope you weren’t too hard on him. You know he only did it because he cares about you."

"Yes, I know. That and he can’t keep from meddling in other people’s business. He’s such a yenta." Max couldn’t repress a wry little half-smile at his use of Yiddish. It was only one tiny example of the impact Fran had had on his life.

Fran allowed herself a wistful smile before it disappeared while she shook her head sadly. "Poor Niles. I think he wanted us to get together almost more than we did." Fran dropped her eyes as a nostalgic look passed over her face. Then she looked up at Max. "Niles said that Jeff came to see you."

Max simply nodded.

"That must have been hard—for both of you. Did he say anything about how he found out?"

"No, he just mentioned something about an evidence trail. I guess we were pretty foolish thinking we could keep it from him. He is a detective, after all." Max took a deep breath. "Has he said anything to you?"

"No—not a word. He’s kept it all inside, but I can see in his eyes—" Her words caught in her throat and she couldn’t finish the sentence. Max studied her closely and felt a huge flood of regret wash over him for all the pain he had caused both her and her husband. Finally, Fran found her voice again. "What did he say to you?"

Max wanted to spare her the painful details. "He just made me see how much this love of ours would end up hurting you." He looked at her intently. "And he was right. Fran, I love you so much, all I truly want is for you to be happy. I don’t think you’ll ever be happy as long as I’m around."

"And that’s why you took it all back again?"

He nodded again. She leaned forward and reached out to grasp his hand. "And that’s the main thing I wanted to talk to you about. I just want you to know how much I appreciate what you did. I know it hurt us both terribly, but it will be better in the long run. I don’t think I would have ever had the strength to leave you on my own, so—." The lump in her throat made it impossible to speak. Finally, she managed a raspy whisper, "Thank you. Now, I can focus on my marriage and put my whole heart into rebuilding what Jeff and I have."

"You’re welcome," Max said with a deep sigh. "You know, it seems our timing has always been off. I guess you and I were just never meant to be. It took me a long time to realize that." As he sat looking at her intently, his eyes moved downward until they landed on the silver heart pendant hanging from her neck.

Fran followed his eyes and reached up to finger the pendant tenderly. "What?" she asked. Just then, their meals arrived and they sat in silence until the waiter asked if there would be anything else. Max shook his head as he continued staring at the necklace. After the waiter left the table, Fran repeated her question. "What is it, Maxwell?"

"I see you’re not wearing the floating hearts."

"No."

"I guess it’s only right that you should wear the necklace that Jeff gave you. It’s just that—"

"Max, I took them off when you told me you were taking back your love again. What did you expect?"

"But I’m telling you now that all that was a lie. I still love you more than I can possibly express to you, and I just want you to be reminded of that every day. Remember, that’s why I bought the necklace for you in the first place. In case I wouldn’t be able to tell you myself, and now it’s come about. Tonight is the last time I’ll ever be able to say those words to you."

Fran reached across the table and took his hand in hers. "Maxwell, I promise that I’ll always remember that you love me, but I just can’t wear the necklace anymore. Surely you can understand that."

Max took a deep breath and nodded almost imperceptibly. "Of course," he whispered.

For the next several minutes, they each turned their attention to the food that sat in front of them. They took a few bites here and there, but mostly just moved it around on their plates. As they expected, neither was much in the mood for eating.

The waiter came by to ask if there was anything they needed. Max set his fork down and looked at Fran. She just sat there, unable to speak as she sat back in her chair and looked away from his gaze. "Just the check, please," Max said to the waiter.

While they waited, Fran thought about the last thing she wanted to make sure he understood. Gathering her resolve, she said, "Max, there’s one more thing." He looked at her, and seeing all the pain in those gorgeous green eyes made it hard for her to find the words. "I can’t begin to tell you what an important part of my life you’ve been. We tried being friends, we tried being lovers, and even though nothing ever really worked out for us except being boss and nanny, I just want you to know that I will love you for the rest of my life. I told you that in Paris, and I meant it. I still mean it."

Max was too overcome to say anything. To live the rest of his life loving her so much and knowing that she loved him too was going to be more painful than he could have imagined. Even more painful, he feared, than overcoming Sara’s death because this time, he knew he had only himself to blame.

He paid the check and they left the restaurant in silence. The two of them stood in the warm night air with the bright lights and vibrant New York atmosphere all around them, waiting for the valet to bring Fran’s car around.

Fran turned to him and reached up to run her fingers tenderly through the streak of gray that she loved so much. Her palm pausing on his cheek, she said, "I’ll always love you, Max."

He bent down to place a warm, tender kiss on her cheek. Then looking deeply into those shining chocolate pools that had captured his heart so long ago, he said, "And I’ll always love you."

Slowly, their heads drew together until their lips met in a feathery kiss. Oblivious to their surroundings, they stood locked into each other’s gaze as a million unspoken thoughts passed between them.

It was well past midnight before either of them would sleep that night, the memory of that final kiss still lingering on each one’s mind. Max sighed deeply as he rolled over in the huge bed that seemed so empty without her. He knew it was only the first of many sleepless nights. Fran sighed too as she rested her head on her husband’s chest and felt his arms snug around her. Even in his sleep, he was set on keeping her close. And while she relished the feel of Jeff’s loving embrace, she knew deep inside that no matter how hard he tried, there was one part of her heart that he would never be able to claim.

*****************

Fran sat at the kitchen table sipping her coffee and looking over the morning paper. She set the Arts and Entertainment section aside, willing herself to ignore it. She knew it would contain a full-page ad for Max’s new show, and seeing his name in print would just bring back too many memories. She found herself fighting those memories more and more often these days.

Just last week she’d overheard a couple of customers in her shop talking about it, and she’d had to retreat to her office to get herself under control. The show was a smash hit, and there was talk of it all over town. She had thought about calling him and offering her congratulations. She was absolutely ecstatic for him, knowing first-hand how much he deserved his success. As she sat there in her kitchen, she couldn’t help imagining what the premier had been like—the lights, the excitement—and then memories of all the opening nights she’d spent with him came flooding back to her.

But it didn’t really take anything as exciting as a hit Broadway play to make her think about Maxwell these days. For several months after their dinner at Nello’s, she had felt really confident that she was moving on with her life. She and Jeff were doing so well, and she truly felt as though they were growing closer every day. They went out to dinner, had friends over and had even taken a couple of weekend trips. In fact, she had just started toying with the idea of suggesting that they celebrate their seventh anniversary in Paris. Enjoying that beautiful city with Jeff would be a sure sign that she had put all she’d had with Maxwell in the past. Whenever she looked into his blue eyes, she saw all the love he held for her, and the hint of sadness for the deep hurt she had caused him was definitely fading. She had thrown herself wholeheartedly into their relationship, and Jeff appeared happier than he’d ever been.

But now it seemed the slightest thing could trigger a wave of nostalgia. She truly felt as though her heart had moved well beyond Max, but then something as simple as overhearing a British accent in a crowd of people or driving anywhere near Park Avenue and within minutes she would find herself missing him and wondering what he was doing. Damn! This wasn’t the way it was supposed to work. Time away from him was supposed to help her forget.

Time. That was part of the problem, she knew. She just had too much time on her hands these days. Both of her shops were doing so well they practically ran themselves. Val was handling nearly everything at the Great Neck store. And when Fran had moved Josh up to assistant manager, he had proved to be very capable of taking care of things at the Manhattan shop. Yes, she just had too much time to think these days. And all that thinking had brought her to a realization. And it was just about time to share it with Jeff.

Without really being aware of it, her hand reached over and pulled that section of the newspaper toward her. She thumbed the pages until she saw it. "Maxwell Sheffield presents—"

"Good morning, sweetheart," Jeff said as he walked over to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup.

"Good morning, honey," Fran said, having to clear the lump from her throat.

"You ok?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Your voice just sounds a little funny."

Quickly, she closed the newspaper, and glanced up at Jeff, hoping he hadn’t seen what she had been staring at. But when he looked away quickly and let his shoulders slump, she knew she’d hurt him again. Just like the other day when he’d come into the bedroom and found her standing in front of her jewelry box clutching the floating heart necklace in her hand and gazing at it. She had dropped it quickly back into the bottom of her jewelry case, but she was almost sure he had seen what it was.

Fran pretended not to notice the hurt look on his face. "I’m fine, sweetie. In fact, come here. There’s something I want to talk to you about."

Jeff glanced at his watch. "I’m running a little late for work," he said. He just stood there drinking his coffee. It was getting harder and harder for him to hide his feelings. She’d had plenty of time, and he’d done everything in his power to help her get over Max, and for a while it seemed she had. But lately it appeared as though they were moving backward. What in the hell was it about Maxwell Sheffield that held such power over her?

Fran got up and walked over to where he stood near the counter. She took his coffee cup out of his hand and set it down. She wrapped her arms around his middle and drew him to her. For a moment he couldn’t bring himself to respond. Then she reached up and kissed him, gently at first and then with more and more passion, and it didn’t take long for him to put his arms around her and return the fervor of her kisses. No matter how much she’d hurt him and how much these little wistful episodes of hers upset him, he still loved her overwhelmingly, and could not resist showing her just how much.

Finally, she broke their kiss and reached up to run her fingers lovingly through his hair. Looking directly at him, she said, "Sweetie, I’ve been thinking about something, and I want to talk to you about it."

He sighed deeply. "Sure, honey. What is it?"

"Well, you know both of my shops are doing really well now, and I’m not having to work nearly so hard to keep them going."

"Yes, I know. You’ve done a great job with your business."

"So, I got time now to think about some other projects."

Jeff’s forehead furrowed and his head tilted as he wondered what she could be talking about. Then his eyes widened as it dawned on him just what "other project" she might have in mind. Could it be that she was finally ready? No, he didn’t dare hope that she was going to tell him... He had been dreaming about them having a child since they had gotten married, but Fran always wanted to wait. And having a baby was such a special thing between two people, could this mean that she was finally ready to dedicate herself completely to their marriage?

He was almost afraid to ask. "So, what other project did you have in mind?"

"Well, it’s gonna take both of us. But if you’re willing to help…"

"Sure, baby, I’d be glad to help. What is it?"

"Funny you should mention the word ‘baby,’" she said with a grin spreading across her beautiful face.

Jeff’s heart started pounding so fast he could hardly breathe. "Honey, are you sure?"

Fran couldn’t stop smiling at the look in his eyes. She kissed him and said, "Yes, sweetie, I’m sure. In fact, I stopped taking my pills Monday."

Jeff’s face literally lit up. He wrapped her up in his arms and hugged her tightly to him, lifting her off the floor. "Oh, honey, you have no idea how happy that makes me. How about we go out and celebrate tonight?"

"Ok," she smiled at him jubilantly. "Then, afterward, maybe we could have a little rehearsal. We’ll have to be careful for a month or so, but I figure a little practice couldn’t hurt." She gave him a coy little smile.

"Mmm. How about a lot of practice?" He kissed her passionately and held her close. He wondered if she had any idea how much this meant to him—in more ways than one. "Honey, I love you so much. Thank you. Hey, let’s go to that little bistro on Third Avenue tonight. Remember when we used to go there all the time?" He looked quickly at his watch. "Damn, I don’t want to go to work now, but I have to."

He slugged down the rest of his coffee and headed toward the garage. Fran walked over and stood in the doorway watching him get into his squad car and pull out of the driveway. When he turned and waved good-bye to her as he took off down the street, she thought back to the other times she had seen such a look of sheer joy on his face. There was the night in the Poconos when she first told him she loved him, and that evening not too long ago when he’d jumped up from the dinner table to get some wine and to give her the heart pendant. She hadn’t known at the time exactly what it was all about, but it didn’t take much to figure out that Jeff was celebrating the fact that she’d taken off Max’s necklace.

And now she had him grinning from ear to ear by telling him she had decided she was ready for motherhood. God, Jeff was so easy to love—so easy to make happy. Why hadn’t she been able to do a better job of it?

As Fran stood leaning in the doorway of her dream home, she wondered why she even bothered to ask such a question. She knew the answer, and unfortunately her loving, devoted husband knew it too. And the answer was printed in boldface type all across the page in that newspaper lying on the kitchen table.

**********************

Fran pushed the down button in the elevator and took a deep breath. Jeff had asked her to call him as soon as she got out of Dr. Reynolds office and let him know what she had found out. But she hesitated before pulling out her cell phone. It was all good news, and she should be anxious to share it with her husband. Dr. Reynolds had declared her perfectly healthy and had given them the ok to go ahead and start trying to get pregnant. Fran should be ecstatic.

And, really, she was. Jeff was so happy that they were finally beginning their family. He’d been lit up ever since she’d talked to him about it that day in the kitchen a little over a month before. And it had given her such joy to see him that way. After all the pain she had caused him, it was so wonderful to look at him and see that twinkle in his eye and that spirited love he’d always shown her before—well, before she had devastated him.

So, what the hell was wrong with her? Why wasn’t she chomping at the bit to call Jeff and give him the good news? The elevator dinged as it reached the ground floor, and the doors opened. Fran stepped into the lobby and walked across it and out into the warm afternoon sunshine.

Who was she kidding? She knew exactly why she was putting off making that phone call. She just kept thinking back to when she’d had that false alarm. As Dr. Reynolds had suspected, as soon as Fran had relaxed a little, she had gotten her period. But the one thing she couldn’t shake was the sense of disappointment she’d had felt when she learned she wasn’t pregnant with Max’s baby.

Well, she should just be thankful that she hadn’t had to face a terrible dilemma. Now, she and Jeff could plan this child together and take joy as a couple in every part of the process. Of course she wanted to have a baby with Jeff. He was her husband, and she loved him. He was going to make such a good daddy. And surely all her years raising Maggie, Brighton, and Gracie had given her the skills she needed to be a good mother.

She got into the car and pulled out her cell phone before starting the engine. Jeff answered on the first ring.

"Fran? What did the doctor say?" he asked anxiously.

"She said you better pick up a bottle of champagne on the way home from work," she told him with a coy little tone to her voice.

"Dr. Reynolds said that?"

"Well, those weren’t her exact words, but I think you get my drift."

Hearing nothing but silence for a moment, Fran realized that he was too overcome to speak, and she was touched by it. Finally, he said very quietly, "Honey, I love you so much. We’re gonna make beautiful babies together."

"Babies? Let’s not get carried away here," she quipped, attempting to lighten the moment. "I think one will be plenty for starters."

She heard Jeff chuckle before he said, "I’m gonna try to get out of here a little early tonight."

"Ok, sweetie. I love you," she told him.

"I love you," he replied.

By the time Jeff got home from work that afternoon, Fran was all ready for their big evening. She had stopped and picked up some of her favorite scented candles and bubble bath. And she had her favorite Barbra CD in the stereo. One quick poke of a button would allow that stunning voice to provide just the right romantic atmosphere. She had made linguine for dinner—the same dish she had cooked the first night they’d made love, only by now she was good at it and could handle it on her own.

As she was setting the salads on the table and lighting the candles, she heard the garage door go up and felt a little surge of anticipation shoot through her. Although she and Jeff were both rational enough to know that it wasn’t likely she’d get pregnant on the first try, still they were both well aware of what this evening meant in their relationship, and they wanted to celebrate that. She was so intent on making it a perfect evening that all thoughts of Max seemed very far away, and by the time she looked up and saw her husband coming through the door, she had only one thing on her mind.

Jeff came toward her with a bottle of Dom Perignon in one hand and a dozen yellow roses in the other. He kissed her thoroughly and then smiled lovingly into her sparkling brown eyes. "Hi, baby." How ya doin?" he said.

"Hi. I’m doing good. What’s this?" she asked, looking at the bouquet.

He held the flowers toward her as he said, "Well, I had a sneaking suspicion that you’d have Barbra on the stereo, so I thought I’d play Nicky Arnstein to your Fanny, Frannie."

Fran laughed out loud as she took the roses from him and held them up, inhaling their glorious fragrance deeply. "Thank you, sweetie. You know me so well."

Jeff smiled at her as he reached up and brushed his thumb tenderly across her cheek. He gave her a light little kiss and a look that conveyed all his love as well as his deep gratitude that at last they were beginning such an important stage of their lives together. Breathing a thankful sigh, he said, "How about you put these in some water while I open the champagne? Then I’ll help you get dinner on the table."

"Ok," she replied.

Jeff slid his tie and jacket off and started working on the champagne while Fran went off to find a vase for the roses. She opened the china hutch and started to grab a beautiful French antique that she had bought in Paris, but her hand moved quickly over that one and took out a pretty yellow one that she and Jeff had picked out together when they’d gone souvenir shopping on one of their weekend trips. The color of it complimented the flowers beautifully, she decided.

Fran filled the vase with water and placed the flowers in it. Then she went to set it on the table and saw that Jeff had already served up the linguine and poured the champagne. She grabbed the remote and instantly Barbra’s beautiful voice filled the room. Jeff held Fran’s chair for her and then sat down and picked up his glass. He held it toward her and said, "To my beautiful wife and our beautiful baby."

"To the three of us," Fran said as they clinked rims. They each took a sip, and Fran felt an overwhelming sense of contentment that after all they had been through, they were finally at the point of complete dedication to each other and their lives together.

Jeff took a bite of his linguine and declared it absolutely delicious. "You know, I think this is my favorite dinner," he told her.

"I know," she said. "That’s why I made it for us tonight. It’s mine too."

"I hope she has your brown eyes," Jeff declared.

Fran was a little surprised at the sudden change of subject. "She?"

"Yeah, I’m hoping for a little girl who looks just like her mother."

"What if it’s a boy?" Fran posed.

"Boys are good too. But we’ll just have to keep trying until we get a little girl who looks just like her mother," he said, winking at her.

The rest of the dinner conversation consisted of suggestions for baby names and ideas for decorating the nursery. When they were finished eating, Jeff poured the rest of the champagne into their flutes and handed Fran’s to her.

"Honey, would you mind if we put some different music on?" Jeff asked.

"Sure," said Fran. "I’ve got lots of other Barbra CD’s."

Jeff just laughed and shook his head. "That’s ok."

He took her by the hand and led her into the bedroom. They each took a sip of champagne and set their glasses down on the nightstand. Jeff pulled Fran to him and began kissing her, tenderly at first but with increasing passion. Immediately, Fran felt that old familiar tingling sensation as Jeff’s kisses continued across her cheek, behind her ear, and down her neck. She let out a soft moan as she caressed the back of his neck.

He began slowly undressing her, never stopping the trail of nips and light kisses. She unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off, allowing her hands to massage his muscular shoulders. He put his hands on both sides of her hips and drew her up against him. When she felt him begin to grow hard against her stomach, she pulled away gently. "Whoa, there, sweetie," she said. "I know you’re anxious, but we don’t want to leave out any of the fun stuff."

"I thought we were doing the fun stuff," he grinned at her.

She gave him one of her gorgeous smiles before scampering into the bathroom and starting the water in the Jacuzzi. She poured in a generous amount of bubble bath and turned on the jets as soon as the water line was high enough. The room instantly filled with the aroma of warm vanilla sugar. Fran breathed in the sweet fragrance and called out, "Oh, sweetie, I’m naked in here!"

Jeff appeared immediately, carrying their champagne. He set the flutes down on the edge of the Jacuzzi and quickly got rid of the rest of his clothes while Fran lit the candles and turned out the light. Jeff stepped in first and then helped her in. They settled against one end of the tub, with Jeff leaning back and Fran nudging in between his legs and resting her head on his chest.

They took their time luxuriating in each other’s bodies, taking turns using languid strokes to wash each other and caress each other’s skin. Each movement was punctuated by tender kisses and loving smiles. When they finished, they stepped out and patted each other dry with one large, soft towel.

Fran took her husband by the hand and led him back into the bedroom. Their earlier playful mood had turned into one of more serious purpose as they became wrapped up in the idea of pleasing and loving one another. Fran pulled the covers back on the bed and lay down, pulling Jeff down on top of her and capturing his mouth in a passionate kiss. He responded wholeheartedly as he moved his hand up and down her side, relishing her perfect body and feeling his love for her well up in him to the point that he thought his heart would burst.

Fran ran her fingers through his hair and allowed them to slide down and massage his upper back. They continued the passionate kisses, and Fran couldn’t repress a deep moan at the sensations she was feeling. She loved everything about her husband, and the notion that they were about to create a living, breathing expression of that love gave her a warmth she’d never known before.

Jeff moved lower and took her breast in his mouth, sucking gently at first, teasing the tip with his tongue and then pulling harder on it until the near-pain his mouth was causing made Fran suck in her breath. When he looked up at her to smile at the reaction he had prompted, he was a bit surprised at the look on her face. Instead of seeing her beautiful smile in return, her eyes were tightly closed and her eyebrows drawn together. Immediately concerned, he asked, "Honey, did I hurt you?"

Fran’s eyes flew open and met his. She couldn’t tell him that the sensation had brought a sudden memory rushing back to her, and she was trying desperately to keep it pushed away. "No, sweetie. I love it when you do that," she explained quickly. She stroked his hair and guided his mouth back up to hers to capture his lips, plunging her tongue into his mouth.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and began rocking her hips against his hardened manhood. She was feeling an unexpected sense of urgency to become one with him, to make this happen before—before what? Before she backed out? This was the first time in her life she had made love without any precautions, and the implications of it were beginning to press on her.

What was the matter with her? She was ready for this, wasn’t she? Of course she wanted a baby—Jeff’s baby. She reached down and grabbed his hips, encouraging him to plunge deep inside her, to create a union that would bind their spirits together forever. "Do it now," she pleaded in a low, raspy tone.

"Baby, I don’t want to rush things—"

"Please!" she begged.

Unable to deny her, Jeff pushed into her and watched her head go back at the sensation of it. He held himself up on his elbows so he could watch her beautiful face awash in passion as he always loved to do, but he was disturbed by what he saw. Her eyes were clinched shut and her face turned away from him.

Fran lay there relishing the feeling of Jeff’s rock hard manhood plunging and withdrawing over and over, and while the physical sensations of it were wonderful, she felt a growing dread of the moment when he would release inside her and give his essence the chance to create a new life within her. Involuntarily, she slowed her movements hoping it would prolong the inevitable. The vague sense creeping over her was one she had felt before. She wanted a baby, but whose?

Slowly, the tears welled up in her eyes, and she kept them shut tightly hoping to stem the flow. There was no way she’d be able to hide them from Jeff, his face only a few inches above hers.

She felt his strokes slowing until he stopped. "Fran?" he said.

She couldn’t hold off any longer. She turned her face toward him and opened her eyes, displaying the tears that filled them.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes.

"Nothing, sweetie. I’m just so happy. Come on, let’s make a baby," she said, suddenly wondering who she was trying to convince.

Jeff didn’t move. He knew her well enough to read what she was thinking, and it was obvious to him that she was fighting this. "Fran, I know you. Those aren’t happy tears. If you don’t want to do this, I’m not going to force you."

Fran took a ragged breath. She didn’t know what to say to him. She had been so sure that this was what she wanted, but now she found herself torn. Damn! When were her head and her heart ever going to get together on this matter?

Jeff pulled himself from her and stood up. He reached for his boxers and slid them on. Then he grabbed a pillow from the bed.

"Honey, wait!" Fran cried desperately. "I’m sorry. I really want to do this. I do!"

"Forget it, Fran," he spat out without looking at her.

"Come back to bed, sweetie. Let’s at least talk about this," she pleaded.

The look on Jeff’s face pierced her heart. "I can’t talk to you, I can’t make love to you in that bed when there’s another person in there with us," he declared. Then he turned and stomped out of the bedroom.

Fran started to get up and go after him, but something stopped her. She had never seen him so crushed. She knew that once again she had hurt him deeply, and it was probably better to give him some time to calm down. She lay there filled with remorse, her tears pouring down her face.

She could hear him pacing back and forth in the kitchen. God, he sounded like a caged animal in there. His pounding footsteps went on and on, each one driving a knife deeper and deeper into her heart. She clamped her hands over her ears, willing the stomping to stop. Suddenly, a jolting thud rattled the house, and she knew he was letting out his furor by slamming his fist against the wall.

Then the wailing began, and she lay there listening to his sobbing and crying as he let out his sheer anguish. She jumped out of bed and started to run to him to wrap him in her arms and comfort him. She needed to assure him of her love and tell him over and over how sorry she was. She needed to give him her solemn vow that it would never happen again, but she knew she couldn’t do that. No matter how hard she tried, Maxwell Sheffield would always manage to work his way between her and Jeff, and any promise she made to him now would be an empty one.

So, she lay there, listening to the pacing, the crying, the slamming. It went on for hours. At long last, an uneasy silence fell on her ears, and she closed her eyes and pictured her husband sitting there, exhausted and spent. Her heart went out to him, but she knew there was nothing she could do or say at that moment to console him. As she lay there filled with deep remorse for the agony she had caused him, she found herself finally drifting off into a restless and fitful version of sleep.

****************

As soon as Fran’s eyes opened, she felt a sick feeling in her stomach as what had happened the night before came rushing back to her. What they had planned as a wonderful, romantic evening together had disintegrated into the most horrible, heart-wrenching scene imaginable. She didn’t even have to look over to see if he had finally come to bed with her. She knew his side would be cold. She held her breath and listened closely.

Hearing nothing, she dragged herself out of bed and put on her robe and slippers. Hopefully, he had left for work already and she wouldn’t have to face him again until that evening. At least then she’d have a little time to think and come up with some way to apologize and make it up to him. Maybe she could explain it some way so that he would understand, and then they could give it another try that night. But what could she say? It was nearly impossible for her to grasp, and she had no idea how in the hell she could ever explain it to him.

She padded on into the kitchen and was startled to see him standing there. He glanced at her but said nothing as he continued making the coffee. "Good morning," she offered, but got no response from him. She shouldn’t have been shocked at his appearance, but the truth was he looked like hell. It was obvious he hadn’t slept all night, and it made her feel somewhat guilty that she’d been able to doze off at all, even though she couldn’t claim to have gotten any restful sleep.

Fran looked up at the clock and said, "Aren’t you late for work?"

Ignoring her question, he stated woefully, "I can’t do this anymore."

Fran felt a sudden panic grip her. "Can’t do what?" she asked apprehensively.

He turned and looked at her squarely. "I can’t pretend anymore that things are all right. I’ve done everything I can think of to win your heart completely—to deserve all your love. Please just tell me what more I can do, and I’ll do it in an instant."

Fran felt tears coming to her eyes and pain clutching at her heart. "Sweetie, it’s not you, it’s me," she argued earnestly. "You are a wonderful husband, and you’ve done everything you could possibly do to make me happy. I know I don’t deserve you, and I’m so sorry that I’ve hurt you this way. I know it’s not fair of me to ask, but if you could just give me a little more time."

"How much time?" he shot out.

She was disconcerted by his question. "I—I don’t know," she stammered. "I truly thought I had put all of that in the past, but I guess it’s gonna take a little longer."

He just stood there, studying her face intently. "Come on, Fran, give me some idea. Take a guess. How much longer until Maxwell Sheffield is completely out of your heart?" Hearing Jeff say Max’s name like that cut her to the quick. She had prayed they would never have to have this conversation, bring it all out in the open like this, but here it was, staring her in the face and she realized that no matter how much she had wrestled with everything, she still wasn’t sure what to say. She couldn’t answer him. There was no way she could put a time estimate on it. The truth was she’d been trying off and on for nearly seven years to stop loving Max, and she wasn’t completely sure she was any closer today than she had been the day she realized she’d fallen in love with him.

"Honey, I’m so sorry," was all she could think of to say.

He sighed resignedly. "I know you’re sorry, but that isn’t enough. I just wish to God I could stop loving you so much." He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Jeff, I do love you," she told him, almost in a whisper.

"I know you do, but that’s not enough either. Fran, do you have any idea just what it is that you want?" She could hear the little quiver in his voice.

She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. She squeezed him to her, but he just stood there with his hands on his hips, not responding. She tried kissing him, but his lips remained motionless. He was simply numb all over, unable to move. She looked directly into his eyes and said earnestly, "Yes, I want you and our marriage and this life we’ve made together."

Unable to look at her anymore, he turned his head away. "Why?" he asked. "Because I’m a sure thing? Because you know I’ll always be here giving you everything you want? Because you need me to fall back on when Max breaks your heart again?"

Fran was horrified by his assessment. She opened her mouth to tell him just how unfair it was, but nothing came out. She had never admitted it before even to herself, but the small kernel of truth in what Jeff was suggesting hit her hard. She couldn’t meet his eyes. "That’s not true," she whispered in a half-hearted protest, looking down at the floor as she pulled away from him.

Jeff turned back to her, but she still couldn’t look at him. "Fran, I love you more than I ever thought I could possibly love anyone. You are my whole life. Everything I am is about loving you and making you happy. But we just can’t go on like this anymore." He paused and swallowed hard. "I can’t go on like this anymore."

Suddenly, what Jeff was leading up to dawned on her, and she felt a panic grip her. God, she had prayed so hard she would never have to face this. Please, she thought, all she needed was a little more time and she would be able to give him everything he was asking. "Jeff, please don’t," she begged.

He just stood staring at her. It was going to take everything he had in him to voice his next question because he was absolutely terrified of her answer. He felt sick to his stomach and he could barely breathe. "Fran, who’s it going to be? Me or Max?"

"No, Jeff," she said, shaking her head. She felt a cold numbness permeate her entire body. "Please no."

"Fran, this can’t go on. It’s just too painful—for both of us. You have to make a choice."

"Jeff, please," she implored. "I just need a little more time."

"No," he stated resolutely. "I need to know now."

God, her mind was a blur. She couldn’t handle this. She couldn’t make a choice. How in the world could she possibly decide between the two men she loved so much? Who did she love more? She couldn’t answer that. Which one made her happier? She couldn’t answer that either. She was in the exact position she had prayed she would never find herself.

Then, through the fog of pain and guilt, she heard a familiar voice and she realized that it was her own. She recalled the sentiment she’d spoken to Maggie years before. "Always remember to follow your heart," the voice was saying, and somehow she knew she had to follow her own advice.

Suddenly, it was crystal clear, but she couldn’t halt the tears from streaming down her face. Slowly, she backed away from Jeff and looked at him with huge, sorrowful eyes. Barely able to speak, she peered into his sad blue ones. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hardly form the words. Finally, her voice hoarse, she declared, "Then I choose Max."

Jeff stood motionless staring at her. His heart was literally breaking in two. He drew in a ragged sob as his eyes filled with tears. He looked around desperately searching for some clue as to what to do next. He spotted his car keys on the counter and reached for them as he turned toward the door. He made it there in three long strides and then froze. Without turning around, he simply stated, "I will love you with all my heart for the rest of my life." And then he was gone.

Fran couldn’t control her quaking body. The pitiful wail that tore from her throat sounded like nothing she’d ever heard before. Never in her life had she been the cause of such anguish, and she knew the look on Jeff’s face just then would haunt her for the rest of her life. She wasn’t sure how she made it over to the table and managed to pull out the chair before her legs gave out from under her. Laying her head on her forearm, she cried the bitterest tears she had ever known.

****************

For three days, Fran did little more than sit at her kitchen table staring off into space. Periodically, she’d get up to make herself a cup of tea, and that was about as much as she could manage to do. But while her body remained nearly motionless, her mind was churning, replaying that final scene over and over, reliving the hurtful exchanges between her and Jeff and envisioning that devastated look on his face when she’d spoken the words that sealed their fate: "Then I choose Max." She heard herself saying them again and again and hoped it was the last time she would ever have to witness such unqualified agony in anyone’s eyes.

She was desperate to arrive at some understanding of how her life had come to that point. So, she spent hours going back over all the events of the last twelve years—all the way back to the day she had rung the doorbell carrying her Shades of the Orient cosmetics case. It seemed like a lifetime ago. She kept wondering what she could have done differently to make Max love her enough to keep her from walking away from him seven years before. She dwelled endlessly on how much pain and heartache it would have saved if he had just said those three simple words that day she presented him her "Now or never" challenge. But now she fully understood what it felt like to be backed into a corner that way and forced to make a decision she didn’t feel ready to make. The irony of it all was not lost on her.

And she grieved deeply for the misery she had caused Jeff. He had been such a wonderful husband and had made her so happy. She reminisced about all the marvelous things they had done together, the way he had supported her in her business and made sure she got her dream home. She was humbled by the profound and generous way he loved her so much—she knew she didn’t deserve it. And she had loved him too. In fact, she still did and knew for certain that she would love him for the rest of her life. But, as he’d put it so bluntly that night, her love for him and her remorse for what she’d done just weren’t enough.

As she sat there, she still wasn’t sure why she had chosen Max so resolutely. She just knew in her heart that he was the right choice. No question, no hesitation. In fact, she realized that she had probably known that all along, and that was why she had always been so terrified of being put in the position of having to decide. Deep down, the one she truly loved beyond measure was Max, and when forced to choose she knew he would be the one—had always been the one—and she had dreaded all the sorrow that choice would cause. And now it had come about, and the pain of it all was nearly unbearable.

It had taken Fran a whole day to work up the nerve to call her mother and tell her the news. Sylvia had come over immediately, and Fran had been so grateful that she had been nothing but supportive and comforting, assuring her that things would eventually work out in the long run. And for once in her life, Sylvia had held back asking the most obvious question: "Why?" But Fran had been most thankful that she hadn’t gone on and on about the shame of having the first divorce in the family. She wasn’t ready to even think in those terms—it was all too new, too raw.

And thank God for Val! She had stepped in and made sure that both stores kept running smoothly so that Fran didn’t even have to give them a second thought. And she spent hours there with Fran in her kitchen, making her tea, forcing her to eat a little something here and there, but mostly just providing a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on. She listened for hours on end as Fran tried to get a handle on things by going over all the events that had led up to that tragic scene between her and Jeff. And, being the best friend that she was, Val knew when to ask just the right question to help Fran gain some insight on all that had occurred.

But Fran was most grateful that Val had been there when a knock at the door had brought with it a certified letter from Jeff’s lawyer. For almost an hour it lay on the table between them before Fran could work up the courage to open it. She kept asking Val what she thought it was, and Val was very patient with her, realizing that the official looking envelope most likely held something that signaled a finality to things. While the horrible events of the last few days still had a surreal feel to them, that envelope was a shot of reality.

At last she gave Val permission to open it and read aloud to her that Jeff had filed for divorce.

Fran just sat there staring at Val in disbelief. She felt a cold numbness moving through her body. "But it’s only been a few days. Why would he do that so soon?" Fran asked through tears.

Val reached over and squeezed Fran’s hand. Soothingly, she said, "Maybe it’s because he knows in his heart that it was over long before now. And seeing his lawyer was just a formality."

"But we were married for almost seven years. Don’t you think it would take him a little longer than a couple of days to bring himself to end it legally?"

"Ya wanna know what I think? I think it’s his last loving act toward you. You told him you were choosing Max. Jeff loves you so much that he’s letting you go so you can do something about it. He just wants you to be happy," Val explained.

Fran poured out a fresh set of tears for the sweet and loving man that she had forsaken. "Oh, Val," she wailed. "Do you really think so?"

Val watched her best friend sobbing and mopping up tears, and her heart went out to her. Just then, she noticed a small lump in the bottom of the envelope. She picked it up and peered inside. Then she looked up at Fran and said, "I know so." She reached into the envelope and pulled out the double floating heart necklace, holding it out for Fran to see.

Fran’s eyes opened wide. "Val, that’s the necklace Max gave me."

"I know. How do you suppose it came to be in this envelope?"

Fran jumped up from the table and ran into her bedroom with Val right on her heels. Lifting the lid on her jewelry box, she rummaged through her necklaces, but the floating hearts weren’t there. She turned to Val. "Jeff must have taken it out of here when he realized who gave it to me. I guess he wanted to make sure that I couldn’t wear it anymore."

"And now he’s giving it back to you. He’s setting you free to love Max with your whole heart." She handed the necklace to Fran.

Fran held it in the palm of her hand and gazed at it. She thought back to the day in Paris when Max had placed it around her neck. Two hearts—forever intertwined. Then she sighed deeply and laid it gingerly back in the bottom of her jewelry box.

"Aren’t you gonna put it on?" Val asked, surprised.

"When I’m ready," Fran replied.

"When’s that gonna be?"

"I gotta figure some things out first," she said.

Val thought for just a moment. "Like when you’re gonna tell Max?"

Fran closed the lid of the jewelry box and turned to look at Val. "Yeah," she said quietly.

"You know, you made a huge decision about you and Max," Val reminded her. "He deserves to know about it."

"I know he does, but it’s too soon. It wouldn’t be right," Fran told her.

Val just looked at her incredulous, and Fran knew exactly what she was thinking. She had carried on with Max when she was still married to Jeff. And now that she and Jeff were split she was worried about what was right? "I know. It doesn’t make any sense, but I just can’t tell him yet. I’ve got some serious thinking to do."

"Ok," said Val sympathetically.

The next day, Fran managed to get herself dressed and go into the Manhattan shop for a few hours just to check on things and make sure they were running smoothly. It felt good to get her mind on something else, if only for a short while. When she walked back in the door of the beautiful Great Neck home that she and Jeff had shared, she could tell instantly that something was different. There were a few things missing and when she walked into the bedroom, she saw that all his clothes and personal items were gone. One more tangible sign that their life together had really ended, and it brought about another stage of grieving for what had been lost.

She plodded into the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea. She sat at her kitchen table, sipping tea and waiting for Val to close up the Great Neck shop and come over. She felt numb as the realization that her marriage had really ended began to press on her. The beautiful life that she and Jeff had built together was over, and in its place she could feel a huge emptiness settling over her. She knew just who could fill that awful void in her life, but she felt immobilized when it came to taking that first step. There were too many questions to be answered yet.

Why wasn’t she running to Max’s arms? Jeff’s returning the necklace made it clear that she was free now to do just that. She had told Val that she had some things to figure out first, and the first thing was to try to understand why she had so many doubts. She had spent many years dreaming of her and Max being together as a loving couple—what if the reality didn’t measure up to the dream? What if she had forfeited her marriage for a dream that would never come true?

And what if their love wasn’t enough to overcome their differences? After all, she and Jeff were so well matched, and their marriage hadn’t been able to survive. She and Max were worlds apart—surely they had even less of a chance. And was she even capable of being a true and faithful wife? What about Max? They had accused each other once before of being untrustworthy. Maybe it was true.

Her marriage to Jeff was destroyed because she couldn’t give him her whole heart. She’d always held back a part of it for Maxwell. She was absolutely certain she would continue to love Jeff for the rest of her life. Would her inability to give one man her whole heart destroy anything that she and Max might build together?

And she still grieved profoundly for the hurt she had caused Jeff after the way he loved her and everything he had given her. She doubted if she would ever be able to forgive herself for breaking his heart. She just didn’t feel worthy of any man’s love at that point in her life. She knew she didn’t deserve Jeff’s love. The truth was she probably didn’t deserve Maxwell’s love either. Maybe she was destined to never find true happiness in her life.

It seemed the more she tried to get a handle on things, the more confused she became. Her thinking ran the gamut of every painful emotion, and each one brought with it countless questions.

And to complicate things more, just as she found herself wondering if she would ever find her way back to Max, Gracie called to ask if they could have lunch together one day soon. It really caught Fran off guard. She had to make an excuse, realizing there was no way she could accept the invitation. but it did serve as a powerful reminder that there was more waiting at the end of the daunting path before her than the love she and Max shared. There were also three beautiful children she loved as her own and who loved her as a mother. That phone call made her even more determined to navigate her way through all the confusion back to Maxwell.

Her routine every day for the next month and a half was always the same. Dragging herself out of bed, going through the motions at work, and coming home to a cold, empty house and staring at the phone. A few times, she even managed to open her cell phone and allow her thumb to hover over the button for Max’s speed dial number, but that was as far as she got.

At this rate, she thought to herself, she would never be able to bring herself to go to Max and tell him she was ready to love again. She probably would have been surprised to learn that at that very same moment, Maxwell was reaching for the phone to call her, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to press the button.

He had no idea how to express to her what he was feeling. How could he possibly describe the emptiness he felt inside? The success of his play was a dream come true, the crowning glory of his life’s work. But it held no significance for him because the love of his life wasn’t there to share it with him.

He sighed deeply and looked at his calendar for the next several days—talk shows, photo ops, publicity appearances. God, how he yearned for Fran to be at his side during all of it. After all, she was the one who loved and supported him during his years of struggle. Always there with a smile and a cheerful word of encouragement to keep driving him on when he felt like giving up. And not to mention how she had taken care of his children so beautifully while he focused on his work. Yes, Fran should be right there with him, taking every bow and basking with him in the limelight. But mostly he wanted her there because he loved her so much and he longed to look into her beautiful brown eyes and see how proud she was of him.

At the same moment, Fran’s thoughts were focused on Max. She wanted so much to see him, but she just couldn’t bring herself to make that call. Out of respect for Jeff and their marriage, she would wait an appropriate amount of time, she told herself. And hopefully, in whatever amount of time that was, she would be able to come to terms with all of the decisions that had brought her to that point in her life and get a firm handle on whatever it was that was holding her back.

Val’s knock at the door brought Fran back to the present. She came into the kitchen and just stood there staring at Fran for a minute. "What have you eaten today?" she asked like a mother hen.

"Uh…," Fran stammered, trying to recall if she’d even thought about food that day. Val just shook her head as she went to the refrigerator and started looking for something to prepare.

After she had made them both some sandwiches and salads, Val set them on the table and sat down with Fran. She was about at her wit’s end with her best friend. She understood completely that she had been through an emotional wringer, but Val knew that no matter how complicated this love between Fran and Max was, the two of them were destined to be together, and it was painful to see them still so far apart.

"Here, eat," she said, shoving the salad toward Fran. After taking a bite of her sandwich, Val asked a bit exasperated, "Why don’t you just give him a call?"

"Who?"

"Whaddya mean who? Who else would I be talking about? Who else do you ever think about? Max!"

"Val! You’re starting to sound like a broken record."

"Yeah? So are you. Look, why don’t we get out of this house and go do something?"

"Like what?" Fran moped, chewing her salad listlessly.

"I don’t know. We could go to a movie or something." Val thought for a minute. "I know, why don’t we go to a Broadway show?" Fran looked at her dubiously. "Fran, let’s go see Max’s play. Everybody’s talking about it. It’ll do you good to get your mind off things."

"By going to Max’s play? How’s that supposed to get my mind off him? Besides, I don’t want to see him yet," Fran said, shaking her head.

"Come on, Fran. It’s not likely that he’ll be there. Look, when you were still his nanny, how many times did he go to one of his own plays after opening night? Huh?"

"There’s no way we’ll ever get tickets. It’s the hottest show in town right now."

"Just let me handle that. Will you go?" Val urged.

Fran sighed as she realized that the only way to get Val to back off was to agree to go. "Ok," said Fran believing there was no way in the world Val could ever come by a couple of tickets to that show.

A quick phone call to Niles took care of getting two tickets to Thursday night’s performance. Of course, Val had to swear Niles to secrecy and beg him to deal with Miss Babcock rather than going directly to Mr. Sheffield.

As Fran looked into the mirror to check herself before leaving for the theater Thursday evening, she had to admit that it did feel good to get dressed up and have a night on the town to look forward to. Val had been right about that. But she was very apprehensive about what kind of feelings going to Max’s play was sure to rouse in her. The lights and the excitement of a hit Broadway musical could only make her yearn for her days as part of Max’s star-studded life, and she was reasonably certain that was exactly Val’s purpose in suggesting the outing.

She took another look in the mirror. Her hair, swept up off her neck with a few wispy tendrils framing her face, looked better than it had in weeks, and she had spent almost an hour getting her make-up just right. She wasn’t sure who she was dressing for as it was a certainty that Max wouldn’t be there, but she had been a little concerned about her overall appearance. She had noticeably lost weight from not having eaten much during the last several weeks, and she couldn’t seem to get that sorrowful look out of her eyes no matter how much make-up she painted on them.

When she and Val arrived at the theater, Fran suddenly became nervous and started to realize that this might not have been such a good idea. She scanned the crowd constantly, praying that even if he were there for some reason, they wouldn’t come face to face. There was no way she was even close to prepared to have any kind of encounter with him. As she and Val made their way through the lobby, Fran did notice some activity off to one side where a small crowd was gathered with paparazzi flashing cameras in someone’s face. She stole a quick glance in that direction, but could only see reporters’ backs. "Come on, Val. Let’s find our seats," she said nervously.

If Fran had caught the green eyes locked on her from across the lobby, she would have understood the strange feeling that had suddenly come over her. Max’s answer to one of the reporters hung in mid-sentence as he watched Fran making her way through the throng of people. He felt his heart begin to race as he fought the urge to sprint across the floor and pull her into his arms. "What the devil is she doing here?" he thought to himself. Suddenly, Max’s attention was drawn back by a reporter’s repeated question, and as he spouted some innocuous response, he couldn’t help but wonder why she was there with Val instead of Jeff.

The next day, Fran sat at her kitchen table going over the accounts for the Manhattan store. She couldn’t manage to drag herself into the shop, but at least she was doing something constructive. She stared at the monthly reports in front of her and realized she had been looking at that same page for nearly a half hour. She just couldn’t get her mind off the wonderful show she had seen the night before. The audience had gone wild, and Fran was so happy that Max had such a big hit on his hands. She had heard that there was already talk of a Tony. She knew she really should give Max a call and congratulate him on its success. After all, they were still friends even though things between them were extremely complicated.

Just then, her cell phone rang and she picked it up and flipped it open. Her heart skipped a few beats when she saw the read out. "Oh, my God," she thought. "This is just uncanny." Pressing the button, she spoke tentatively, "Hello?"

"Fran!" Maxwell’s upbeat voice belied the uncertainty he’d been dealing with all morning about calling her. "How are you?"

Fran hesitated. He had really caught her off guard. She didn’t know whether or not to tell him she’d seen his play. She couldn’t be sure as to what kind of message that would send him. "Uh, fine," she lied.

Max noted the hesitation in her voice. Maybe calling her wasn’t such a good idea. She obviously felt uncomfortable talking to him. He decided to forge ahead. "Well, I just wanted you to know that I saw you at the theater last night, and I wanted to thank you for coming. I hope you enjoyed it."

Fran felt a slight sense of panic wash over her. He had been there? "Oh, yes, it was wonderful," she said trying to recover. "In fact, I was just getting ready to call and congratulate you. I understand it’s a huge hit, and I know you deserve all the praise you’re getting for it."

Max shifted uncomfortably as he thought about the acclaim that was being heaped upon him because of the play and how little it meant to him without her being there to share it. His thoughts flashed back to years before when he’d earned the Tonies for "The Widower," and he realized that it was probably the closest he would ever come in his life to having the professional success he craved and the close support he needed from the woman he loved at the same time. Why in the hell couldn’t the two most important aspects of his life ever get aligned to provide him the complete happiness he yearned for? At that moment he knew with absolute certainty that he would forfeit every ounce of professional glory if he could just have Fran back in his life. "Thank you," he finally said. "It seems it really is the runaway hit of the season." He paused and took a deep breath, unsure where to take the conversation next. "So," he suddenly offered, "I guess Jeff was working late last night? I saw that you were there with Val."

Fran was at a loss. She knew he had a right to know the decision she had made. This was the perfect opportunity to let him know what had happened between her and Jeff. But she still had too much to work out in her head, and she was concerned that if Maxwell knew, he would put undue pressure on her, and she didn’t need any of that clouding her thinking. She needed more time, and, besides, such momentous news shouldn’t come over the phone. "Uh, yeah," was all she could manage. She took a deep breath. "Well, again, congratulations. Val and I both really loved the show."

Max couldn’t believe she was ending the conversation. He wanted to keep talking to her, wanted to listen to her voice, hang on to that connection to her, tenuous as it was. But it was obvious that she had nothing more to say to him. At last he told her, "Thank you. It means so much coming from you." He paused, but there was only silence from the other end. "Well, thanks again. Good-bye." As he hung up, he couldn’t help being struck by the odd tone in her voice. She just didn’t sound herself. Something was wrong, he could tell.

Fran sat there holding her phone in her hand and staring at it. Knowing she’d been in the same room with him last night and now hearing his voice brought a rush of emotions to her. God, she loved him so much, and she realized that she had to do everything in her power to make her way back to him. Surely, they were destined to be together. And she knew in her heart of hearts that he loved her too. She couldn’t just sit around hoping that one day her head and her heart would come together enough to go to him and tell him she was ready to give herself fully to him forever. She had to figure out a way to stop grieving over the past and focus her attention on the future—a future with the man she loved more than life itself. As long as she stayed there in the house she’d shared with Jeff, she would never be able to get a clear handle on her life. She knew she had to get away.

Suddenly, she knew exactly what she was going to do. Getting up from the table, she went to look for her passport to make sure it was still valid. Finding that it was, she pulled out a suitcase and began selecting clothes She was so resolute that she was doing the right thing, it was as if someone else—or something else—was directing her actions. She had to get to Paris—back to the place where their love had first flourished. She knew she couldn’t help but walk through the streets of the city that belonged to her and Maxwell without coming to a full understanding of the power and destiny of their love. In Paris, she would be able to put all of her feelings—both positive and negative—about Jeff in the past. She would be able to bury all the doubts she harbored about how much Max loved her or how right they were for each other or whether or not he would love her forever. She would find the cleansing she craved in order to fully dedicate herself to her love for the man of her dreams.

As soon as she finished packing, she called Val to tell her of her plans and swear her to secrecy. Even Sylvia wouldn’t know exactly where she would be. She was going to Paris, and she was going to turn off her cell phone. She had to go on her quest alone, without distraction or influence from anyone else.

By noon the next day, her bag was packed and she had reservations for the afternoon flight. Glancing at her watch, she noted that she would need to leave for JFK in a half hour if she was going to make it on time. She walked over and stood in front of the mirror to check her make-up, and as she stood there staring at her reflection, she knew in her heart she was doing the right thing. She knew she was taking the first step of her journey back to the man she was meant to share her life with. She took a deep breath and said out loud, "Well, it’s now or never." She surprised herself at the irony of that admonition. They were the exact words she’d handed to Max seven years ago, and now she was saying them to herself.

But there was one important thing she had to do before she left. She walked over to her jewelry box and opened it slowly. There they were, lying in the bottom amidst all her other necklaces. She reached past the silver heart pendant and lifted the floating hearts delicately out of the box. Opening the clasp, she took both ends of the chain and put them behind her head. Suddenly, she stopped and brought her hands back around to the front. She held the pendant up and gazed at the way the two hearts interlocked. Then she took a small, velvet drawstring bag out of her jewelry box and dropped the necklace into it, drawing the string tight. Somehow she knew in her heart that she would know the right moment to put the necklace back on. But not now. Not today. She slipped the tiny bag into her purse and said a small prayer that the necklace still held the same meaning for Maxwell.

******************

Max reached over and pressed the intercom button. "Niles, would you come into my office, please?" he said. He sat at his desk with his eyebrows drawn together as he wrestled with a growing concern. He needed to talk to Fran, and she wasn’t answering her cell phone. Ever since that odd conversation the other day when he’d thanked her for coming to his play, he just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something going on with her. Her odd tone of voice, the way she had abruptly ended the conversation. And why in the world hadn’t she sought him out that night at the theater? It would have been wonderful just to see her again, but it seemed she was avoiding him. He had been trying for a couple of days to get a hold of her just to make sure she was all right, but he’d gotten nothing but her voice mail on her cell, and she hadn’t returned any of his messages.

Just then, Niles came into the office. "Yes, sir?"

Max looked up at his butler. "Niles, when C.C. gets here, please tell her that I need her to handle the interview with Gloss Magazine this morning. There’s something I have to go take care of." He stood up and started gathering papers and putting them away in his desk drawer.

"May I tell her where you’ve gone?" Niles asked.

"No, this is a personal matter, and it simply cannot wait. Bring my Porche around directly, please." He strode out of his office and went to the closet to put on his jacket. Suddenly, a sense of urgency came over him. He simply had to see Fran—had to talk to her and make sure she was all right. Forget trying to call her, forget leaving messages. He had to see her, had to look into her eyes. He didn’t care that she didn’t belong to him. It didn’t matter right now that he had vowed to stay away from her. He loved her beyond words, and he was not going to let that disturbing tone in her voice haunt him any longer.

As he fought through the heavy Manhattan traffic, he toyed with the idea of calling her store on 57^th Street just to make sure she was there. Then he thought better of that, fearing he would scare her off. For some reason he couldn’t fathom, it seemed she was trying to evade him.

He pulled up in front of her store and was relieved to find a parking spot right across the street. He hopped out and darted among the traffic, reaching the front door out of breath. He looked inside and saw Josh standing behind the counter.

Opening the door, he headed straight for Fran’s office. "Uh, may I help you?" Josh asked.

"I’m here to see Fran," he announced.

"She’s not here," Josh told him.

Max stopped dead in his tracks. "When will she be back?"

"I don’t know." Josh continued to stare at him. It was obvious he’d been warned not to give out any information about Fran’s whereabouts or when she might return.

"Is she at the Great Neck shop?" Max demanded to know.

"I don’t know. Look, I’m sorry. Would you like for me to tell her you came by?"

"No thank you," Max said curtly. He marched back out the door, knowing he shouldn’t have been so short with the young man. After all, he was probably just following instructions.

Max got back into his car and turned in the direction of the Long Island Expressway. He was on a mission now to find Fran. He just had a feeling inside that it was absolutely imperative that he see her. He glanced at his watch and calculated how many minutes it would take him to get to Great Neck. As he pulled out onto the highway, he pushed the accelerator to the floor. He didn’t even glance at the speedometer—it didn’t matter. He’d gladly pay whatever fine was necessary. Seeing Fran as soon as possible and assuring himself that she was all right was worth the risk.

As he took the Great Neck exit, he didn’t back off much on the gas. He knew he was driving too fast through the narrow, residential streets, but something was spurring him on. Then he heard the siren behind him. "Damn!" he shot out, the only thought crossing his mind was that he was being waylaid from getting to Fran.

Max slowed the Porche and pulled over to the side of the road. He looked in his rearview mirror and was stunned to see who was approaching him from behind. He opened the car and got out. "Been busted down to traffic patrol, Detective?" Max asked sarcastically.

"No, but as an officer of the law, I’m obligated to put a stop to any criminal behavior I see," Jeff declared authoritatively.

"Funny, I would think you’d have better things to do with your time that worry about someone going a few miles over the speed limit."

"Well, you know how it is, Sheffield." Jeff came to stand right in front of Max. "You start letting creeps get away with stuff, you never know what damage they might end up doing."

Max just glared at him. Finally, he spat out, "Just write me the ticket and I’ll be on my way."

"On your way to where? What’s the big rush?" Jeff demanded to know.

"I don’t believe that’s any of your business," Max retorted.

"Oh, but you see, you make it my business when you come into my town and break the law," Jeff declared.

Max didn’t see any way out of it. He was desperate to be on his way, and he didn’t have time to stand there exchanging barbs with Jeff. He took a deep breath and said, " I need to speak to Fran. I’m sorry, Jeff, but…"

"Sorry? Not much of an apology considering all the wreckage you’ve caused." Jeff didn’t even try to hide the accusatory tone in his voice.

"What are you talking about?" Max asked as his eyes narrowed.

"Like you don’t know. Doesn’t it bother you at all to know that you’ve destroyed two marriages now?" Jeff glared at him.

"Two?"

"What? You’ve forgotten about your own already?"

"Of course I haven’t. What are you talking about?"

Jeff just stood there amazed. He couldn’t believe that Max didn’t know that he and Fran had split. He wondered briefly why Fran hadn’t gone running into Max’s arms the moment he’d set her free. Suddenly, the pain of losing the love of his life to the man standing in front of him threatened to overcome him, and he knew he had to get out of there.

Jeff spun around and headed back to his squad car. He opened the door but paused before getting in. Looking at Max, he spoke very quietly. "You can go now. Just please be careful that you don’t hurt anyone."

Max stood dumbfounded watching Jeff pull away from the curb. He still wasn’t completely sure what that exchange had all been about, but what Jeff had said about destroying two marriages had jumped out at him. If Jeff and Fran were separated, no wonder Fran had acted strangely. She was hurting, and Maxwell felt a renewed sense of urgency to get to her. He jumped back into his car, and within minutes he was pulling up in front of Fran’s Finds.

He walked inside and looked around, spotting Val stocking one of the shelves in the middle of the store. He walked toward her as he said, "Val, is Fran here?"

"No," she stated.

"Do you know where she is?" he asked.

"No." She set down the vase she’d been holding and turned to face him. Max studied her expression and knew instantly she was withholding information from him.

"Val, have Fran and Jeff separated? You’ve got to tell me," he pleaded.

Val wavered for only a moment. She recalled her promise to Fran, but she was so taken in by the desperate look in Max’s eyes. "More than separated, Mr. Sheffield. They’re getting a divorce."

Instinctively, Max’s heart leapt at the news. Then a sudden thought sent a current of apprehension through him. It was understandable that Jeff believed it was Max’s fault. But what if Fran blamed him too? She had made it clear that last day in Paris as they sat on the park bench together that she loved her husband and wanted to stay married to him. And now she and Jeff were divorcing. Would she hate him for destroying her marriage? Max’s heart ached for her and all the pain she must be going through. No wonder she hadn’t sounded herself on the phone. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to hold her in his arms and tell her how sorry he was. He wanted to soothe her until her tears stopped and she felt whole again. He simply had to know where to find her and he’d stop at nothing until she was in his arms.

"Is she at home? Is she at her mother’s?" he asked anxiously.

"She doesn’t want to see you," Val informed him.

Max felt heartsick. What if she couldn’t forgive him? What if she never wanted to see him again? Living with the pain of seeing her married to someone else was torment enough, but this would be worse. "Val, I understand your loyalty to her, but you’ve got to know how much I love her. Please. I must talk to her."

Val hesitated another minute. Then, she simply stated, "She went to Paris."

"What? Alone?"

"Yeah, she said she was looking for something, and that was the only place she could find it."

Max felt his heart begin to race and his breathing quicken. Paris was their city, and if that’s where she’d gone, he could allow himself a glimmer of hope. Max turned and headed toward the door. "Thanks, Val. And I won’t tell Fran you told me."

Val stood there smiling as she watched him running to his car. She knew in her heart that telling him had been the right thing to do. They belonged together, and Val could see that even if they couldn’t.

As soon as Max was on the highway back to Manhattan, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed home. When Niles answered, he instructed him to start packing his bag and to make flight reservations.

"You’ll be staying with your brother, I presume?" Niles asked.

"Yes," Max told him. "Please call him and let him know."

"And how long will you be staying?" Niles inquired.

Max took a deep breath. "As long as it takes," he vowed.

********************

Fran had been in Paris for a day and a half, and each passing hour had brought her closer to an understanding of her feelings. It seemed as though every time she visited a place that was special to her and Max, she was able to peel away another layer of confusion. The Champs Elysees, the Eiffel Tower—each spot created a clarity in her heart about the issues she’d been wrestling with. Now, as she sat on the park bench where she had once told Max they had to stay away from each other, she was able to zero in on the one definitive thing that was still keeping her from running into his arms.

She now understood that her fears about how well matched they were and whether or not they would be able to put complete trust in one another and if she would ever be able to give him her whole heart had only served to cloud the issue. The thing she knew that was holding her back could be summed up in one word—guilt. She had struggled with it from the first moment of her affair with Max, but now it pressed heavily upon her. She had broken her wedding vows, she had betrayed the sweet man who loved her so and she had broken his heart. And she wondered if she would ever be able to move beyond that guilt to love Maxwell the way she wanted to love him, giving him every last measure of her heart.

She looked around her and took note of the beautiful scenes—children playing and couples strolling among the colorful flowers and lush trees—and came to realize that there was only one thing that would save her from her burden, and that was the pure and powerful love that she and Max shared. She could now admit to herself that her love for Jeff, strong as it was, was no match for the unbreakable bond that held her and Max together. She loved Maxwell Sheffield deeply, with a love she never even thought herself capable of. But she knew her love for him would only take her part way in getting past her guilt. She needed Max to love her well beyond what she deserved from him. She knew he loved her—he’d even loved her enough to set her free. But did he love her enough to lift her above the debilitating guilt that was weighing her down?

There was only one way to find out, and she knew at that point that it was time to go to him. She had to let him know that she was free now legally to be with him, but more importantly, she had to find out if his love for her was enough to free her emotionally.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the setting sun and then stood up. Tomorrow morning she would be on her way back to New York, back to Maxwell to learn her destiny.

She walked briskly along the park paths, resolute now in her plan. Tonight, she would go visit Nigel at his club. He’d be surprised to see her—she hadn’t even told him she was there in Paris. She would try to relax and gather herself a little before facing the most important crossing of her life.

*****************

Max ran his hands through his hair anxiously as he took one last look in the mirror. He stared at his reflection for a moment trying to see if he appeared as nervous as he felt. His stomach was churning and he couldn’t quite seem to catch his breath. In just a little while, he’d be standing in front of Fran, laying his heart on the line and hoping with all he had in him that she was able to give him her whole heart in return. Her answer would determine their fate. He’d know in just a few hours if he was bound to continue living with this constant heartache the rest of his life.

He just prayed that the magic of Paris had helped her see that the love they shared was more powerful than any of the demons she’d been wrestling with and that they were meant to be together forever. He took it as a good sign that already fate had stepped in and told him where to find her. As his plane had landed earlier that day, he had been laying out his scheme to search her out in the huge city. He had planned to start first thing in the morning at the Ritz. Then he would have tried the Champ Elysees, knowing it was her favorite spot. The Eiffel Tower, the Montecristo at lunchtime… But one phone call from Nigel made all that unnecessary.

Max recalled how his heart had skipped a few beats when Nigel had told him, "She’s here at the club, bro. She just walked in."

"Oh, my God, Nigel. Don’t let her leave. I’ll be there straight away," Max nearly shouted.

"I can’t tie her to the chair. You better get down here. She looks—" Nigel paused for a second before his voice became very serious. "She looks like she’s hurting. You better hurry, Max."

That phone call had been followed by the fastest shower in history. And after he’d pulled on her favorite cashmere sweater, he’d splashed on an extra measure of Aramis. He was leaving nothing to chance tonight. Just before running out the door, Max grabbed his suitcase and reached into the side pouch and pulled out the CD.

Thankfully, Nigel had sent the limo back to the house to pick him up, and within minutes he was on his way to the club.

Max asked the driver to pull around back. Jumping out of the car almost before it was stopped, he slipped through the back door and looked around for one of the staff. "Excuse me," Max had told the waiter in French. "Would you please find the owner and ask him to step back here for a moment?"

The young man nodded and went in search of Nigel.

Max peeked out from his spot partially hidden behind the small bandstand. Fran sat alone at a tiny table near the dance floor. She looked so beautiful, it took his breath away, and he could hardly keep himself from running out there. As he watched her for a few minutes, he could see what Nigel had been talking about. There was something about the look in her eyes—a need that was unmistakable. Max watched her take a sip of her drink as Nigel approached him.

"Just in time, bro. She told me she wasn’t staying much longer."

"Nigel, how long before the band goes on break?"

"Should be just a few minutes. Why?"

"Do me a favor and pop this in when they do." He handed Nigel the CD.

"What is it?"

"Just do it. Please. Track one."

"Sure, Max. Whatever you say." Nigel slipped the CD into his pocket and headed back out to his customers.

Max watched as Fran reached into her purse and pulled out what looked like a small pouch. He saw her open the drawstrings and pour the contents into the palm of her hand. She sat gazing intently at what she held. Just then, the band leader announced that the band would be taking a short break.

Max stood staring at Fran as he tried to slow his breathing and keep his hands from shaking. Just then, the haunting melody of the Bonnie Raitt song began, and Max noted the wistful look in Fran’s eyes as she recognized the beautiful guitar strains.

He said aloud to himself, "It’s now or never," as he stepped out from behind the small bandstand and walked across the dance floor toward her. As she looked up and saw him, her eyes got huge just before they filled with tears. Without a word, he reached out his arms to her and she stood and then fell into his embrace. He pulled her tightly to him, encircling her in his arms determined never again to let go of her. She sobbed as she laid her head on his chest and put her arms around his neck. Slowly, they began swaying to the music.

The song ended and Fran lifted her head from Max’s shoulder and looked directly into his eyes. His mouth slowly descended upon hers in a tender kiss that portrayed all the deep and powerful love he held for her. Their two hearts beat together in a perfectly timed rhythm as their two souls kissed deeply. Kiss followed passionate kiss as they stood wrapped in each other’s arms, oblivious to all the activity around them.

Reluctantly, their lips pulled apart. Max looked into those glimmering chocolate pools as his heart pounded so feverishly he feared it would come out of his chest. "God, I’ve missed you so much," he told her, sincerity making his voice catch.

He reached up and with his thumb gently brushed away a tear that threatened to spill down her cheek. "Fran, I’m so sorry for all that you’ve been going through. I heard about—well, I heard, and I just want you to know how sorry I am. I just pray you’ll forgive me for being the cause of all your pain."

She reached up and stroked his cheek tenderly. "Sweetie, there’s nothing to forgive. It’s not your fault that I love you so much." Then she dropped her eyes down and let her tears flow as the bitter memory of the heart-rending scene with Jeff came rushing back to her. She stood there trembling and no words would come. Max held her lovingly, caressing her back and soothing her until she could finally catch her breath. Still, she couldn’t look at him. "Oh, Max, I hurt him so much," she cried.

"What happened?" he urged her gently.

"He told me he couldn’t go on the way things were. He couldn’t keep pretending not to know whenever I was overcome with thoughts of loving you." She paused and took a cleansing breath before she could continue. "He said I had to make a choice." She looked up at him with her water-filled eyes and, unable to find her voice, whispered, "I chose you."

Max’s green eyes opened wide and he started breathing rapidly as the significance of what she was saying hit him fully. She chose him? She was his? Finally, after all these years of loving her and longing for her, his dream had come true? He swallowed hard and tried to calm his pounding heart.

Suddenly, the overpowering joy he felt at learning that she was finally his was tempered by a rush of remorse for all the anguish they’d caused both Jeff and Laura, and Max was struck by the magnitude of what Fran had been going through.

She drew in a ragged sob before saying, "He was so wonderful and loving to me. I didn’t deserve his love." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I wonder if I deserve anyone’s love."

"Sweetheart, it doesn’t matter if you deserve my love or not. You have it anyway—always and forever," he told her. She looked at him warily as he continued, "Fran, listen to me. I’m sorry for the way we hurt Jeff and Laura. But the truth is there’s no way to deny this love of ours. It was meant to be. It’s dreadful that we hurt other people along the way, and just look at how we hurt each other through all of it. But the real tragedy would be if we let all that keep us from experiencing the joy that such a powerful love can give us." He kissed her tenderly and then added, "Fran, punishing yourself for the past won’t do any good. It will only bring heartache. I know what I’m talking about here—please don’t make the same mistake I made."

She looked up into his eyes and saw the earnestness there. "Oh, Maxwell, I love you so much. I don’t think I even realized how much until right now. I just need to know that you love me enough to help me get beyond this terrible guilt."

"However much it takes, I love you so much more than that," he said sincerely. He kissed her passionately, pouring every ounce of his deep and powerful love into his kiss. Pressing his forehead to hers, he said, "Sweetheart, I’m not dismissing all the terrible pain you’re feeling, but you’ve got to focus on the most important thing, and that’s our love."

Fran looked intently into his eyes as she zeroed in on what he was saying. The words from the song came to her: "Isn’t it love that keeps us breathing? Isn’t it love we’re sent here for?" She realized then that she had already taken the most important step toward the lifetime of happiness that their love would bring. She brought her hand around and opened her fingers, showing him what she’d been clutching. She watched his eyes light up as he recognized the beautiful pendant that served as the symbol of their abiding love.

Max lifted it delicately from her palm and opened the clasp. He put both ends of the chain behind her head and closed the catch, sealing their eternal love. With shining eyes and a sweet little smile, he said, "You know, you don’t really need this necklace as a reminder anymore, because you’re going to have me telling you a hundred times a day how much I love you." Then he slid both arms around her and pulled her snugly up against him.

Fran took a deep breath and relished the loving warmth that enveloped them. It felt so right—as if everything was just the way it was supposed to be, and her hope for their future together lit up her heart and overwhelmed her.

Max reached up and brushed his thumb lovingly across her cheek. "Fran, it pains me to think that you’ve been going through this alone. Why didn’t you tell me?"

"I had to figure some things out first. That’s why I came to Paris." A sudden thought struck her and she narrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head. "How did you know I was here?" Max just looked at her, unsure how to answer. "Let me guess," she said. "Val, right?"

"Don’t be mad at her," he said, giving her a little wry smile. "I was extremely persuasive." Then he turned serious. "She told me you came to Paris looking for something. I hope you found it."

She drew in a deep breath just before her mouth turned up into one of those gorgeous smiles that made his heart race. "I did," she proclaimed.

"May I ask where?"

"Right here. In your arms."

"And I’m never letting you go," he declared resolutely.

Their mouths came together in a passionate kiss that sealed their loving vow to dedicate their hearts to one another fully and completely for the rest of their lives. They could hardly believe that, at long last, their arduous journey had finally brought them together, and they both knew beyond certainty that each step they took from that moment on would be as one.

Finally, Max broke their kiss and brushed his thumb lightly across her cheek. "Darling, I want to make sure you know that it’s always been you that I wanted, and it will always be you that I love." He gave her a feathery kiss as he whispered, "It was always you."

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