I do not own the characters or words in italics. Please enjoy!

She turned around to see his facial expression and offered a tear stained smiling face. Her smile faded as she found no one standing behind her and stared bewilderedly towards the door. She turned back to where Norman was standing next to Ardis' bed, and tried to mirror Rita's smile. She took a deep breath, a few steps backwards, turned and walked out of the room. Her eyes searched for him, thinking he stepped out to give Norman and Ardis a little privacy.

As she walked closer to where the twins and their mother were still conversing, she stopped. Through the rain soaked window, she could see a man's silhouette, a very familiar man. She took a few breaths watching him and reached for her umbrella. She walked through the door, opened the umbrella and saw the mailbox that he stood before, his hand holding the slot open. She felt her heart beat just a bit faster and felt it was a little harder to breathe. She wanted to do something, anything, but she knew he needed space because their words ran through her mind like a record that had been skipping.

It's funny, remember the day we first met? I had a letter that I was afraid to open. And now you have a letter that you're afraid to mail.

I'm not afraid to mail this letter.

Then what are you afraid of.

She thought of what he was afraid of, but what she was afraid of was playing out in front of her like one of Shakespeare's tragedies. The letter turned in his hand so as to not get the address any wetter, he hesitated. She held her breath and tried with all her might to quiet her loud, beating heart. The tears built up in her beautiful eyes, hoping this wasn't happening. One swift motion of his wrist, the letter was gone and the mail slot slammed shut. That sound resonated throughout her whole body. It was done; he mailed it, his future now property of the United States Postal Service. His letter sat somewhere in that box, in an envelope, with stamps, ready to be sent on a journey to a different country, to the mailbox of a woman that only became real to her when she saw the name he had written. The tears that she felt cloud her vision suddenly fell, only for it to become blurry once again.

He turned and looked at her; she saw the obvious pain and uncertainty in his face that had taken over him. In that moment, there was no air for her to breathe, no other feeling but blood coursing through her veins, no sound but the pounding in her ears, and a terrible ache in her heart. Suddenly, thoughts flooded her memory of Becky reminding her of her reputation with unavailable men, the way Oliver exploded when she told him that Holly planned to stay in Paris, and how a few moments ago he speculated that she invaded his privacy and read his letter. He looked down at the ground. More tears fell from her eyes.

Their eyes met again. Her latest thoughts were of the words or a poem written on a piece of paper, that she would never know what had been said. His kind, gentleman ways, the way she felt her heart beat faster when she stole quick glances of him in the DLO. The thought of his consoling hug in the bank vault when the uncertainty of Katherine's health hung in the midst, the end of the dance where she thought they might almost...

She went to move towards him, and he to her, she stopped. He continued to make his way in her direction. She wet her lips to speak as he came closer. He stopped beside her, turned only his head and starred into her eyes. His eyes were red-rimmed, more so than earlier that evening, the rain washed away any evidence of tears he may have shed. She lost all sense of thought and words had failed her as she tried to say his name. He turned his head forward; she watched as he swallowed hard and straightened his tie. He opened the door and gestured for her to walk in. She nodded, closed her umbrella and turned around only to be standing very close to him. He backed up, put his hands behind his back, looked at the floor and said in a shaky whispered tone, "I mailed my letter."

"So you have." Her voice almost mimicked his.

"Oliver, you're soaking wet!" Rita said loudly as she and Norman walked over from across the lobby. Shane quickly wiped her eyes and Oliver cleared his throat.

"Well everyone, it is getting late and we should be leaving as the hospital visiting hours are almost over." He still didn't look at her. Her heart was breaking and knew that his decision to not look at her was all she needed to know what was in that letter.

She took a deep breath, shook her head and smiled at Rita and politely said they should get going, since Rita's car was back at the Post Office. They said goodnight to Norman and Rita said goodnight to Oliver. The two women turned and walked into the pouring rain towards Shane's car.

"Are you alright? You didn't say good night to Oliver."

"Yes, Rita I'm fine." She lied. "Just forgot I guess, busy day." She held back every emotion she had been feeling.

"No, you don't forget, even when you two are arguing you still manage to say something to each other." Rita said adjusting her glasses and looking over at Shane.

"So glad that Ardis is going to be ok, Norman is probably so happy." She tried to distract Rita from the conversation, knowing that can be very easy to do.

"Oh yes, Norman is very brave to have let Oliver open that letter and find out that she wanted to meet him!" Rita said in her usual chipper voice. "Did you know she flew all the way from Papua New Guinea?"

All Shane could concentrate on was Oliver and if her suspicions were correct, it had to have been an 'I miss you, come home' letter. She thought about what would this mean for their friendship, or even just being coworkers? "Rita, could you pick out a radio station to listen to?"

Rita obliged and they sat in near silence, as Rita sang some songs off the radio. When they got to Rita's car, they said good night and Shane drove away. She turned the music off as her thoughts were overpowering everything. She got home, walked in the door, turned on a few lights and headed into the kitchen. She reached in the cabinet and took out a wine glass, opened a drawer and took out a corkscrew. She walked to the other side of the room and grabbed a bottle and walked back. She opened the bottle, poured a glass and headed for her bathroom to draw a bath. She wasn't the type to relax in the tub, but after everything that happened, she needed it. When the bath was ready, she set her wine glass and her iPad on the side of the tub, lit some candles, turned off the lights and got in. Once settled, she put some music on and took a sip of wine. The next song that played, she could not stop it fast enough. It had been a classical song that Oliver had said he enjoyed listening to while they drove to deliver dead letters. She selected another song, put her head back and closed her eyes. Like before, the very next song was another, more contemporary song that Oliver had enjoyed, and she swears he had hummed to it once. She turned off her iPad and sat there, she felt the tears forming in her eyes again and she let them fall. More came and went, followed by loud, emotional sobs.

When she walked in to the DLO the next day, Rita and Norman where already sorting the mail. She sat down at her desk that Norman built for her and powered on the computer. "Where's Oliver?" She asked nonchalantly.

"He called and said he'd be late." Norman said.

"He never is late; I hope he is feeling alright." Rita said concerned. "He was standing in the rain an awfully long time last night."

She smiled politely and turned back to her computer and started typing away.

"Hey guys, sorry this letter was processed but got stuck to the belt. It is still pretty damp, must've been in the rain last night, can't read a thing, except that it's going to France, I think." One of the postal workers said as he handed the letter to Rita and left.

Rita walked slowly trying to decipher what the words said. Norman walked over to look also. "Hard to figure out, the writing looks familiar."

She looked at it and thought it might be Oliver's. Of course his letter would come through the DLO.

"Good morning everyone, please excuse my tardiness. Miss McInerney, what do we have here?" He asked, seeing the letter on the corner of her desk. He didn't fully look at her, just quick glances.

She looked at him and then down at the letter that Rita had put down on her desk. She stood up and said, "Oliver, might I have a word with you?" Rita and Norman glanced at each other and shared a look of confusion. Shane and Oliver went into a private corner of the DLO. She looked at him and handed him the letter. He looked down at the letter and then at her. She thought he looked exhausted. "It got too wet Oliver and the address is illegible. I knew it was had to be yours."

"Thank you Miss McInerney for bringing my letter back to me so it could be mailed again, without the possibility of the address…" He cleared his throat. "Being soaked." He took the letter, opened it, put it in a new envelope, put stamps on it and sent it on its way.

"You figured out who the letter belonged too?" Norman asked.

Oliver stood in front of the mail shoot, turned around, put his hands behind his back and said "It was my letter Norman, to my wife." He looked at Shane and saw the hurt that was still in her eyes.