Chapter 16

He hated to ask. Hated that her tears had just stopped and now he was asking a question that might bring them back. Hated that he had to know, that he knew he had no right to ask but had to anyway. Part of him wished he could leave well enough alone; be happy, ecstatic, that she'd felt the way he had four years earlier. That even though he hadn't known it, he'd spent the last four years being loved. She hadn't deserted him for someone else, she'd left because of fear, and although the result was the same, it somehow seemed far easier to forgive. Lack of courage was, after all, the reason he'd waited too long to tell her how he felt all those years ago, the reason he hadn't called her even once in the past four years, the reason he'd tried to stay away from her when he first saw her there in that Shell station. Fear could be forgiven, had been the second she'd voiced it to him, but still, he had to ask about Michael. He had to.

He still held her close to him, where he'd pulled her soft warm body after not being able to look at her tear stricken face for even one more second. Her head wasn't against his chest any longer, but they were still sharing the same small place in his kitchen against his refrigerator, their chests moving as one, their legs intertwined. The fingers of one of his hands still tangled in her hair, his other hand around her back holding her close to him, and even as the question loomed in the air, he couldn't help noticing that they were absolutely perfect that way. He hoped they'd stand like that again in the future under happier, sexier circumstances.

"It's not what you think," she said quietly, looking up at him with red puffy eyes and a blotched face.

"Then explain it to me," he said quietly as he ran his fingers through her hair to the tips and finally dropped his hand. She didn't move, but he didn't feel trapped as he had earlier.

She smiled slightly at him, nodding. "Do you mind if I…" she gestured over her shoulder shyly. "Splash some cold water on my face first?"

His eyes widened just a little bit and he stared at her for a few seconds before answering. "Uh… sure. Go ahead."

She smiled bigger then and turned towards the entry from the kitchen to the living room. When she reached it, she turned back to him. "Could I maybe get some more water too?"

He nodded dumbly and watched her walk away before going into the living room for her glass, wondering if she was stalling, if she was coming up with a story to give him. He brushed off the feeling and took her glass into the kitchen, filling it with a few more ice cubes and some water, then went back into the living room and sat it down where it had been before. He looked around the room for several seconds after that before taking a deep breath and sitting uncomfortably in the chair at the end of the couch.

When she walked out of the bathroom a minute later he thought she looked better. Her eyes were still red and a bit swollen, but her face seemed better and she had a look as if the worst was over. He hoped it was.

She walked to her place at the couch and sat down, taking a drink of water before looking up at him. "Michael and I had a deal," she said simply, putting the glass back down on the coaster.

His eyes widened again as his mind jumped to ten different conclusions at once. "A deal?" he said in that non-flattering voice of his he hated.

She nodded once. "I'd get him through residency, then he'd get me through college. That was our deal."

"Your boyfriend was older than you?"

"I think that question is of a personal nature?"

"Donna, you were just at my desk, reading my calendar, answering my phone, and hoping I wouldn't notice I never hired you. Your boyfriend was older?"

"Yes."

"Law student?"

"Medical student."

"And the idea was that you'd drop out and pay the bills till he was done with his residency."

"Yes."

"Yes, I remember. What does that…"

"The deal wasn't contingent on our staying together," she said matter-of-factly.

"What?"

She shrugged. "Of course we thought we'd still be together, but the deal didn't hinge on it."

"So…"

"Michael's paying for my college."

He wouldn't have guessed that to be the case if he'd had a thousand guesses, and he was sure the expression on his face showed it. "Really?" he asked, absolutely dumbfounded.

"He wasn't a fan of the idea when I brought it up, but he got the good end of the deal, so he eventually agreed to it."

He felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. "How did you get him to do that?"

"Josh," she said softly. "I know you've spent four years painting him a certain way, but he's not a complete bastard. I paid for everything when we were together. Rent, utilities, groceries, car repairs… all of it. I asked him to pay only my tuition and he agreed. I wasn't for my undergrad, but I'm on a partial scholarship now, so that makes it even easier on him."

"And that's what the call was about?"

She laughed a little. "His fiancé's not the happiest about our agreement. Since next semester's my last, he wanted to know if I'd registered and gotten the bill so he could pay it and be done with it."

He nodded. "I can see where she's coming from."

She suddenly looked down into her glass. "Please don't," she whispered in an almost broken voice.

"Don't what?" he asked, confused.

"Don't be…" She stopped and looked up at him. "I'm not sponging off my ex. I'm not some weak girl who has to have someone else pay her way. This was our deal and he's getting the far better end of it. Please don't act like…" She looked over at the wall. "Like I slept with him for tuition."

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "I didn't mean…" He stopped abruptly. Someone at some point had told her that, he was sure of it. Someone had done their best to make her feel small and less than amazing; they'd told her she didn't deserve to go to college, hadn't earned it, was sleeping her way through it. He wished he knew who that was, wished he could've protected her from them, wished there wasn't a very small part of him who hated that Michael had anything at all to do with her education. But to think… he couldn't even wrap his mind around it. He stood up and walked slowly to where she was sitting on the couch and knelt down in front of her. "That's not what I meant. I would never, never think that about you."

She still didn't look at him, still kept her eyes on some unknown place over his left shoulder. "Then what did you mean?" she asked almost bitterly.

He hadn't completely understood the need she'd had a few minutes earlier to be touching him as she explained the reason she left the campaign, but he understood it now. As she sat there, hurt, weary, uncertain of him, his need to hold her was overwhelming. He reached out tentatively and took her hands in his own, looking down at the visual of her small pale hands in his larger, stronger ones. He was meant to protect her, to hold her, to make her safe. That was his job, at least, he wanted it to be. "It was a stupid thing to say and I'm sorry," he said softly, squeezing her hands. "I just meant that if you and I were dating and you were paying his tuition, I wouldn't care for it either."

Her head turned the slightest bit, still not fully facing him. "What if you and I were dating and he was paying mine?"

Part of him hated it. Hated that he was still part of her life at all, even in a small monetary way. But another part of him was glad, proud even. Proud that she'd demanded to be re-paid, glad that Michael hadn't been able to walk off with her life savings. He closed his eyes and took a large breath. "Honesty, right?"

She nodded.

"Honestly, I'd have mixed feelings." He managed a half smile then before adding, "I think I'd be glad there was only one check to go."

It was silent for a few seconds before she replied. "He paid it online Friday," she said, smiling back at him, a large smile that showed her teeth and made her look five years younger. It was the type of smile he dreaded seeing when she'd first reemerged in his life, a smile that would've sucked him unwillingly in again. Now he relished it.

"Even better," he said, his smiling growing to show just a hint of his dimples.

She leaned into him then, resting her forehead against his, and for the first time in a week, he felt like he wasn't merely existing and surviving. He was living. "Are we?" she whispered.

"Are we what?" he whispered back.

"Dating?"

He pulled back, not much, just enough to be able to tilt his head up and kiss where his forehead had just been. "I have this PTSD thing," he said quietly.

She sat up straight again, looking at him hard. "I don't care. I mean… I do care, but… I don't see it as a deterrent to dating you."

He nodded. "I have a pretty ugly scar on my chest you're probably going to have see sooner or later," he said, trying to make light of the scar others had winced at.

Her eyes squinted in confusion then grew wide in recognition. She stared at him for several seconds before trying to speak. "You don't know how…" Tears pooled in her eyes again and he berated himself for bringing it up in this game of honesty they were playing. She pulled one of her hands from his and laid it on his chest over his heart and shook her head. "You're not allowed to make fun of that from now on, ok?" she whispered in a shaky voice.

He nodded, gripping her hand with one of his, letting both of them rest there over his heart as time passed slowly and silently save for the sound of their breathing. When he couldn't take it even a second longer, he moved his hand from hers to her neck, pulling her close to him again and kissing her forehead then her cheek and finally, finally her lips where he could taste her fallen tears. She was like water to his mouth.

She sighed, leaving one hand on his chest and moving the other to his hair at the back of his neck. It felt to him like their first kiss all over again and he thought it fitting. But as it progressed, it became needier, more possessive, stronger, and he was sure they were telling each other those few implied but unsaid words.

She pulled back, taking his face in her hands and raining kisses on his cheek, his forehead, his nose and finally his lips again before sitting up straighter and looking at him with a smile. "You sure?" he asked her.

Her smile widened and he doubted he'd ever seen anything as beautiful as her. "Positive, you?"

He pulled her close to him again, close enough to feel her breathing on his lips. "For the last four years you've been my past," he whispered, his fingertips grazing over her cheekbone. "I need you to be my future."

She smiled and he leaned in the final inch to kiss her again.

"Josh, who's the girl in the back seat who says she's with you?"

"Donna Moss. Donnatella actually, but I'm going to be the only one who gets to call her that."

"Oh...kay… who is she exactly?"

"My new assistant."

"You hired an assistant?"

"I'm not exactly clear on who hired whom."

"Josh, we're on a very tight budget. You can't just…"

"She's a volunteer."

"Oh...ok. But...the volunteers usually stay in Manchester. Why's she on the bus?"

"I'm gonna put her in charge of finalizing the fundraiser. She's gonna be a huge help. Wait and see."

"How long has she been working for you exactly?"

"I don't know. An hour or so."

"And you already know she's going to be helpful?"

"She hired me an assistant. That was pretty helpful."

"Why does this scare me?"

"I need an assistant Leo, you know I do. And there's something about this girl. I'm not sure what it is exactly, but she's the one. She's the one I need."

Author's Notes: This completes this story. There is a 20 chapter companion piece called Stumbling Into Life that I'll begin posting on Friday.