Florence, June 2016

He must have seen her while he had been driving because he turned exactly to where she was hiding. But he didn't walk over. Instead, he entered the house. She only popped her head out when he was inside and breathed a sigh of relief. She could make a run for it, right? Even if all her belongings were in the bedroom. Who needs a passport and money to travel?

She plopped back down on the dirt and stared at the sky.

How the hell did he find her?

A few minutes had passed and she was still not any closer to figuring out a plan. She could always just stay here, meld with the ground and maybe grow into a strawberry plant. Her skin prickled when she heard footsteps.

"I can see you behind the plant," he said flatly.

"No way. I'm invisible. Go away," she yelled back, hoping he'd skip both of them the torture, book a flight back to the U.S. and leave her alone.

"I just need to talk to you. I've spent two months trying to track you down. Talking to me is the least you could do."

She shot up to her feet and whipped towards the sound of his voice. Rhonda knocked back at how awful he looked. Almost as haggard as her before Helga came along in California. He hasn't shaved in days and had grown a stubble. His eyes were red as if he haven't gotten any sleep. There were large bags under them too. The shirt and pants he was wearing were extremely rumpled. They obviously haven't met an iron in quite some time. Except for his new haircut, this was the most unkempt she'd seen him.

"You look like hell," she spat.

"Thanks, I feel like it," he swiftly replied, brown eyes aimed at her. Then his gaze softened after travelling to her swollen belly. She pulled her sweater tighter to cover it.

"You shouldn't have come here."

Thaddeus shrugged, taking steps forward. He stopped three feet in front of her. "Last I checked, this was my grand-uncle's house. Imagine my surprise, when you were here," he drawled.

Her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously.

"You just said you were tracking me down."

"Yeah. Trust me, this was an accident. I never expected to find you here. I thought you'd be in Rome."

She tried to breathe and not to blindly follow her instinct which was to run as fast as her feet could take her. Firstly, she was sure he could outrun her and second, she might hurt her baby. She settled for crossing her arms.

He ran a hand through his short hair and let out a frustrated breath.

"I know it doesn't sound like it but I'm glad to see you," he said.

"That's a coincidence, I feel the exact opposite."

Thad's dark eyes studied her face. She turned to move towards the house and he was up close in a flash. His voice was low and serious. "We need to talk."

"I don't think so. Whatever we had to say to each other, we said in Chicago." She leaned in closer so he knew she meant business. "Please move."

When he didn't, she went around him but he stopped her by extending his long arm.

"I miss you."

She froze as if she'd been doused with cold water. She wanted to laugh at his face. He told her to go back to her husband. He was the one who asked her to go away. Now that she was asking him to do the same thing, he wasn't even giving her the courtesy of doing that.

"Get out of my way," she snapped. "Unless you want me to bite your stupid arm off."

"No. Not until you let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain. I've heard it all. Now, let me go while we're still civil to each other."

He gave a bark of mad laughter. He held his hands out as he asked and glanced around, "This is civil?"

Her temper flared. "Trust me, this is civil."

"I'll talk fast. If you could just listen to me."

She shook her head angrily. "I don't have to. I don't owe you anything."

"I've thought of nothing but you since I let you leave," he rasped.

That wasn't enough, Rhonda thought. She wasn't going to run back to his arms just because he suffered. She had suffered too. This wasn't right. She only had the strength to do one goodbye. Why was he putting her through this?

"You're not doing this here. I don't have to be here to listen to your mad babbling. As far as I'm concerned, we're done."

She walked away from him. This time, he didn't physically stop her.

"I want you back," he called out with a strangled voice.

Fuck.

She whipped around. He looked embarrassed.

"Are you insane? You want me back? Are you on drugs? What the hell are you on about?" she screamed. "You don't get to say that! You don't–" She breathed in, clutching her stomach. "Get out of here," she whispered.

"I want you and I'm not afraid to say it anymore."

Her mouth twisted bitterly. Her defence mechanisms were kicking in.

"I don't think you really want to be with me. I think you got bored. Haven't taken your Adderall lately?"

Rhonda hated herself for saying those ugly words and tried to snatch them back but he ignored her dig at his mental disorder.

"That's not true. I've wanted you even back then. It started two decades ago."

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Right. Of course, that's why you ended things when we had a chance in Rome."

She couldn't breathe. Why was he here?

"Rhonda, that doesn't–"

"Count? Why? Because you're the one who left? Never called for three fucking years and I had to be the one to insert myself into your life again? I get to be the piece of shit who leaves this time." She pointed at her chest. "It's my turn."

He didn't speak for the longest time. His chest puffed out as he took long drags of the Tuscan air. She began to head for the house again when his desperate plea landed on her ears.

"Can't you see? I ended it because I was scared you'll leave! I was scared you'd change your mind. I didn't want to trick myself into a false sense of security and happiness. Being with you was my childhood dream. If you were the one who ended things, it would have devastated me like it did in high school. It was better if I left first."

His voice broke. "Because that way, I won't get hurt. But I was wrong. Even when I was the one who ended things, it was still painful. And I've been fighting what I've been feeling for years thinking that I'd be happier. And I wasn't. I've been miserable. I've made us both miserable."

She watched it unfold before her eyes. He was opening up his soul to her. His mouth was twisted in a bitter scowl.

"I hated that you married Eddy. I despised it. More importantly, I hated that I didn't stop you. That day on the beach. Before your wedding. I wanted to–to tell you… to tell you what I've really felt from the very beginning. The moment I laid eyes on you. But you said… you said you loved him, and we were friends and I didn't want to screw that up as well. If we weren't, there wasn't a reason for us to spend time together anymore."

His brown eyes were pleading with her. Begging her to understand. But her heart had toughened up. The defences were strong and tall.

"Beautiful performance," she said flatly.

"It's the truth," he argued.

"That was such a long time ago."

"I know."

She turned her focus to the lines of strawberries in Alfredo's yard. They needed to be harvested since their season was almost over. The ripe, juicy, red fruits hang precociously off the ends of the branches. She picked one and let it fall to her feet.

"So, what did you want to tell me?" Rhonda questioned. "What's so goddamn important that you had to go looking for me now?"

"That I– I," the words were stuck in his throat. He took a deep breath then looked her straight in the eye. It was either her baby or her stomach that flipped. "I love you, Rhonda. I don't care if you're carrying his child. I don't care if you say no to me right now. I have to tell you. I have to. I love you. Even if you don't love me back, it's okay."

He inched closer towards her.

She shook her head, slowly stepping away from him. He was hurting. It showed on his face. But he can't do this. Not now. She was getting better. Getting used to the idea of being alone. She was surviving.

"You're just saying that. You don't mean it," she said fiercely.

"No! I love you. I'm in love with you. You have to believe me. I've wasted so much time." There was regret in his voice but she didn't want to listen to it.

"Stop it! It's too late," she insisted. "I deserve someone better."

He continued pleading, stepping forward. "I love you. You know that. But you're scared too. And it's alright,"

"Stop saying that! It's not true. Just leave me alone."

"I'm not leaving Italy without you," he said quietly.

Her fury burned hot and bright. She was a woman possessed. "Leave me alone. I don't want you here. I hate you," she growled, poking a finger at his chest.

He shook his head. "No, you don't."

"Fuck off," she lashed out before turning away and walking as fast she could away from him. He caught up to her, matching her pace.

"Not this time. I'm not letting you get away again. I'll fight for you."

She stopped, spun around, and threw a weak punch at him. He dodged it easily, leaning to one side.

"This is such bullshit," she yelled, her whole body quivering with anger. "You're not wanted here. Go back home, Thaddeus."

Her angry tears slid down her cheeks.

"Not until you come with me," he said, not willing to back down. She didn't understand how he could be so calm. "I'm done running away from you. This time, I'm the one who won't leave you alone. I'm the one taking action. You've done enough for the both of us."

She sank to the ground and cried. He slowly sat down and stayed by her side.

…

He kept his word. It had been nearly a week and he still hasn't left. He occupied the guest bedroom near the living room while she stayed upstairs. They didn't talk much and gave each other wide berth but they couldn't avoid each other during dinner. Most nights, it was Alfredo who would start the conversation. Rhonda would nod politely and give short answers. Thaddeus did the same.

Rhonda knew he didn't seek her out because he was waiting for her. He had already opened the dialogue, it was her turn to respond.

She spent most of her time out in the garden. He spent his in town. Sometimes, she saw him riding his grand-uncle's old bicycle around. One afternoon, when he got back from town, it just so happened that she was coming down to the kitchen to fetch herself some juice and the strawberries she'd picked. She discovered him kneading bread. Their eyes met but this time, she didn't look away.

"When are you going back to work?" she demanded.

"I'm on leave."

"Wow, the great workaholic Thaddeus Gammelthorpe, missing work. Did I miss something? Has the apocalypse began?"

"Maybe. Too early to tell."

She inspected her nails.

He sighed, continuing his work with the rolling pin. The flour flew in the air in puffy white smoke around him. "Brad's covering for me."

She smiled tightly. "Lucky him."

"Sure," he replied sullenly.

She walked past him to the fridge to retrieve the jug. Alfredo liked freshly squeezed orange juice. Rhonda did too.

"Your parents are worried about you," he finally said.

Only when she had a glass in hand did she speak. She took a slow sip before replying.

"Why? Are going to call them again like you did last time? Get mommy to fetch me?"

At that, he flushed red with guilt.

"Yeah, they told me before I left. Real heart to heart session. Funny, huh? How did my mother know exactly which apartment we were staying? Such a coincidence."

His jaw tightened. The dough suffered under a heavier hand.

"Your family loves you."

"Yeah, they loved me enough to force me to marry Eddy."

His brows furrowed. "You married Eddy on your own volition."

He got her there but she was too proud to back down. She wanted to draw blood. "I sure as heck wasn't going to ask you to marry me."

He placed down the rolling pin. "I don't want to fight you."

She pushed herself away from the countertop.

"Tough tits. I'm telling you, leave now or I'll leave."

"Rhonda–"

"I've had enough of this. This is a warning, Thaddeus. Don't mess with me."

She took the whole pitcher of orange juice and left him, already feeling emptier without his presence.

...

Even after her big threat that afternoon, Thaddeus showed no signs of leaving. He offered her the bread he had been making but she ignored him even though it smelled delicious and she was hungry. She ate oatmeal instead. Then snacked on some yogurt and potato chips. Alfredo returned at around dusk with a few bottles of wine and packed pasta. He'd visited his daughter Lucia, Thaddeus' cousin once removed. The relatives spoke in Italian, too fast for Rhonda to understand, as she read her novel on a hammock outside. It hung in between two trees and she enjoyed the breeze brought by the early evening. She saw the old man walking over after finishing his conversation with his grandnephew.

The sun had set but she could still see a strip of orange over the horizon.

"Good evening, mia," Alfredo greeted her.

She nodded at him with a smile. "How's Lucia?"

"Good, good." He gestured to the hammock. "May I sit?"

She adjusted herself to make space for him. "Of course. Join me."

The hammock tilted a bit when the old man sat beside her. They both looked at the house. The only light turned on was the one in the kitchen. Thaddeus was cooking and they could see him through the window. She turned away, unable to look at him for too long. Alfredo noticed this.

"You have to talk to him, bella," he murmured in his lovely Italian accent.

"I already did. I told him to leave."

Alfredo shook his head. "Avoiding him won't do you any good," he said gently.

She held the man's hand. "I appreciate everything you've done for me, tio, but I– I don't trust myself around him. I go crazy. I forget that I'm supposed to hate him."

"So don't."

She frowned and felt herself getting sad again. "It's not that simple. We already decided to be separate. Your pronipote and I are not good for each other."

He gave her a sceptical side-eye.

"How so? I've only seen him happy whenever he's with you."

"That was years ago."

Almost eleven to be exact. Not that she was counting.

"Nonsense. I saw you only a while back."

She forgot that they visited Rome together while they still had their affair. That was three years ago.

"It's not the same. We're…" How could she explain it to him?

For someone from an older generation, someone she had been expected to be conservative, Alfredo had been incredibly understanding when it came to her. He accepted her with open arms, no questions asked when she showed up at his doorstep.

"I know. It's difficile. When love is real and big, it can be quite painful," he commented.

She nodded. Biting her tongue so she doesn't cry.

"I'm not asking you to forgive him so soon, cara ragazza. Just hear him out. Listen to what he has to say. And if you don't like it, you can kick him to the curb. Even though I have to be honest, I'll be quite disappointed if you do. I'd like you to be part of my family."

She smiled at him.

"I can't promise you that," she said softly.

He sighed. "Listen to your heart, signorina, what does it say?"

It said that she does need to have a conversation with him but her stubbornness was getting the better of her. To humour Alfredo, she said what she knew he wanted to hear.

"Okay, I'll talk to him."

He squeezed her hand. The feel of his warm, paper-thin skin comforted her. "You have to tell him about your child, my dear."

This time, it was her who sighed. She knew that she had to but she had been dreading it from the moment he arrived. Rhonda stood up, dragging Alfredo with her.

"Come on, a mangiare. Let's have dinner and tell me more about Lucia. I have to visit her again soon."

…

She packed her suitcases that night. Rhonda knew she couldn't stay in Panzano anymore. Not when Alfredo was on Thaddeus' side already. Blood is thicker than water. At the stroke of midnight, she opened her door as quietly as she could, lugged her suitcases slowly down the stairs. There was a voice in her head that was yelling at her that she was being deranged. She quickly snuffed the voice out. With an elbow, she pulled down the doorknob, opened the front door and stepped out. It slammed behind her. It was dark out but there was something that caught her eye.

Thaddeus was sitting on the hammock watching her.

He was wearing a black shirt and dark pants. It made his face paler against the dark landscape. Only the front door's light illuminated him. Even from where she was standing, she could tell he had a big frown on. She dropped her suitcases in shock. They knocked against the stone floor.

So began their standoff.

"Leaving so soon?" he called out. A barn owl hooted in the distance.

She glowered at him, wishing she had the strength to throw one of her large Samsonites at his stupid, smug face. It was cold. Rhonda adjusted her red sweater. The leaves of the trees rustled, dancing to the midnight wind. She walked over to the hammock and gave it a swift kick. It tilted enough that Thaddeus stumbled out. But before he fell to the soil, he managed to pick himself up and stand straight in front of her. He crossed his arms, looking like a bored teenager. A strand of his hair blocked his left eye and she willed her hand to stay by her side and not to adjust it.

"I love you but you're starting to piss me off," he said in a low voice.

"Good," she retorted. "Were you just waiting for me to leave?"

He shrugged. "I had a feeling you were going to flee tonight. Turns out I was right."

"Or you heard me packing," she growled.

"That too," he admitted.

She placed her hands on her hips and tried to stand taller. It was no use. He still had three inches on her even with the boots she was wearing. She had to look up at him and it made her feel small and feeble. Instead, she opted for her meanest scowl.

"You might think it's cool or romantic that you're waiting for me in the dark but it's actually creepy."

"It's sort of my thing," he grinned, his teeth shining in the darkness. "Being a creep. I've been told since elementary that I'm quite good at it."

His flippant response further annoyed her.

"I was enjoying my vacation here in Tuscany but now that you've shown up, I can't stay here. You and your uncle are in cahoots." She pointed an accusatory finger at his face.

"Oh my God… and they call me crazy," he breathed.

He tucked his hands into his jean pockets. His lips were set on a tight line. There was something wild about his eyes that reminded her of their childhood. Like he was losing his patience with her. It was a familiar look that he wore all through their senior year of high school.

"He asked me to talk to you this evening. What have you been saying to him?" she whispered loudly.

"Nothing! You're the one with the big mouth who told him everything. The minute I arrived here, he scolded me for dallying with a married woman even though he did the same thing in his youth. What a hypocrite. I've heard the stories. My prozio was quite the ladies man back in the day. Before he settled down with my grandaunt."

She frowned. Curious to know more about Alfredo's sordid past but furious that Thaddeus had distracted her. "I'm leaving," she declared.

"No, you're not. You're five months pregnant. You're not going anywhere in the middle of the night. Who's going to give you a ride here in the middle the Tuscan countryside?" he asked snidely.

After hearing that, she gazed at the long road. Not one vehicle had passed by since she walked out of the house. People slept early in this part of the province. He made a lot of sense but she was too headstrong to listen.

"I'll find someone."

She walked back to retrieve her bags. He was in front of her in seconds, blocking her way.

"You're not going anywhere tonight. I won't let you."

"It will be wise of you to get out of my way," she hissed, trying to sidestep him but he was faster than she was. Not only was he an ex-athlete, she was carrying a watermelon in her stomach. After a few tries, she was panting. He grabbed her shoulders to keep her in place. The touch burned her.

"Will you stop?" he barked.

She stopped. She let out a huge exhale. Then made another run for it, which he prevented, of course.

"Let go of me," she wheezed.

He let her go, eyeing her warily. "If you move again, I will restrain you," he warned her.

"Fine."

He outranked her in physical strength. If he didn't want her to leave, she couldn't possibly fight him in her condition. She felt scrubbed raw. Exposed. In front of the man who already rejected her. She remembered something he said. "How'd you know I'm five months pregnant?"

"Edward told me," he said, confused why she chose to focus on that.

"What else did Eddy tell you?"

"Nothing else. Why?"

Edward had kept her dirty secret. That the child wasn't his. That the father had no idea he was going to be a baby daddy in four months.

"Rhonda?"

"What?" she snapped.

"You just look like you had something on your mind."

She shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing that I'd share with you."

His lips curled. "I figured." He faced away from her then walked away, dry leaves crunching underneath his feet. He picked up her bags. "I'm carrying these back to the house."

He nudged the door with a foot and went it. He carried her heavy luggage as if it was nothing. She hated him a bit more, glaring daggers at his back.

"I'm leaving first thing in the morning," she said tightly, following him inside.

"Of course, you are," he said over his shoulder.

He was humouring her but she didn't care. She suddenly felt tired. If she left in the morning, that doesn't mean that she had lost, right? They walked up the steps as quietly as they could, not wanting to wake up Alfredo. He placed her black suitcases by the foot of the closet. She sat down on the edge of the single bed and forced herself to calm down. This was a minor setback. She can escape tomorrow, with a plan, and never have to talk to him again. It'll be great.

He whipped around to face her and stared her down. Without looking away, he closed the bedroom door with one hand.

"Please do try more effective escape plans in the future. I can't wait to foil them."

"Please do try to have more sarcasm in your tone," she shot back. "I can't wait for you to get struck by lightning."

His tired eyes implored her. She had a crazy thought that maybe he had been waiting for her to try to leave for every day of the week. That he hadn't been sleeping just to catch her. She didn't know why the theory brought her so much joy.

"Rhonda, you can't run from me forever. I just want to talk."

"And I just want you to go away. Oh!" She widened her eyes in mock surprise. "It looks like we all can't have our wishes fulfilled."

"Why are you being so difficult?" he asked.

"Why are you being so difficult?" she mimicked his voice.

He appeared genuinely disturbed.

Okay, she was beginning to regress into a five-year old but she was seriously mad at him. And they were near a bed. A detail that had not escaped her notice. This only further irritated her but she squashed it down. When she divorced Eddy, she said to herself that she wasn't going to run from her responsibilities. She realised this was a cop out. She looked at him closely for only the second time that week. He was gazing down at her with concerned eyes, his dark brows furrowed. He stood firmly, thumbs hooked to his pockets, like he had all time in the world. Then it clicked.

"You're not leaving," he growled. "And I'm not leaving you."

Looking up at him, hearing the determination in his voice, she started to believe him. If she was going to leave, he was going to follow her. They had put each other through a lot and it was high time she told him the truth. If he could open up to her, it was only fair she did the same. No matter how hard it was going to be. The knowledge swept her worries away and everything felt right as though it was time.

She could say everything she had on her mind. He could say his piece. And like Alfredo had told her earlier that evening, if she didn't like it, she doesn't have to take it.

"I apologise for acting like a child," she said and she couldn't blame him for looking so surprised. "If you–" She cleared her throat. "If you want to talk, we can talk now. I've been acting crazy."

He considered her offer with a reluctant shift of his mouth.

"Can I?" He gestured to the bed, suddenly unsure.

"Yeah. Might as well." She made space for him and smoothed the comforter. "Sit down."

The mattress dipped under his weight. He sat further away from her than he usually would have so as not to make her uncomfortable. Thaddeus looked awkward on the small bed. His limbs were too long, and his knees were close to his chest. The bed's legs were really short.

She smoothed her pants that had bunched up when she sat down.

"So…" she heard him begin.

She put up a hand. "I need to speak first."

"Okay," he said quietly.

Rhonda glanced at Thaddeus.

"First of all, you didn't have to come down here." Disappointment flooded his features. "But I'm glad you did."

His eyes snapped back to hers. She quirked one shoulder to appear more indifferent. Her heart was pounding fiercely in her chest. The sounds of loud drums thumped in her ears. He was eagerly paying attention to everything that she said. It was so different from his laid-back, aloof mask. She made her tone as even as possible.

"After what happened in Chicago, I didn't want to face you anymore. I can't go through something like that again. So I ran. But, now that I think about it, when we were younger, I rejected you countless of times…"

"You were right to do so. I came on to you way too strong," he reminded her.

"Yes. However, you didn't hide, you didn't quit."

He seemed confused. "I don't think that was a good quality."

"It wasn't when the feelings weren't mutual but… with what happened with us– I think I'm also to blame."

Her pride was taking a serious beating but she pushed on.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his nose crinkled. He was even more puzzled which made her smile.

"I fell in love with you in Rome. A long time ago," she finally admitted. It was like a load had been lifted off her shoulders.

His head slowly turned to her direction as if he couldn't believe what he had heard.

"Don't look so shocked. Like you didn't know."

He shook his head wildly. His hands gripped his knees as he breathed deeply.

"Okaaay. Obviously, we both handled everything really badly but me? Even more so," she said.

That seemed to aggravate him. "What are you talking about? I was the one who ended things after Rome. I'm the one to blame."

She raised her brows. He stopped talking.

"Let's not point fingers. Yes, you tried to do the fade away but I could have called. I could have shown up at your university but I didn't. I took the coward's way too. And it sucked because I really missed you after that summer."

One edge of his mouth curled up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she said softly. "And I didn't do anything about it. Didn't say what I really felt. Not after years had passed. And when we met again, I was just so happy to have you back, so eager to have you in my life again that I didn't want to mess it up by moving too quickly."

"So you decided we should be friends?"

She nodded.

"I thought it was the best decision. You were dating other women."

"Because you practically spelled out we could only be friends."

"I know!" she screamed, then remembered Alfredo was just down the hall. She toned it down. "I know. But– seeing you with other women upset me. At the time, I didn't know why… but I was so angry, and sad. I didn't know how to handle my emotions. Emotions too extreme for me to comprehend at the time. I lashed out. I–"

He waited.

She gazed at him. Truly look at him, to get him to understand. She aimed for a smile but felt her cheeks wobble.

"I never really loved anyone in that way before… Before you."

Thaddeus dipped his head, trying to process everything she was telling him. "You never–you never said anything," he exhaled.

"Yeah. You know what happened. I met Eddy. And I had to marry him. In those days, I felt like who I was, my identity, was closely linked to my family's fortune. I'm not like the anymore. But, at that stage, I couldn't imagine going about it on my own and I relied on him. Eddy was my rock. And I was his. He understood. He came from that world."

Thaddeus' face twisted.

"What happens now?" he asked. "What do you want?"

"I want us to…" She paused. To truly think about it. After a while, she knew she had her answer. "I want us to stop playing all these games. You said you love me. And I," she swallowed her tears back. "I can't believe I'm saying this but I'm starting to believe you."

He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Rhonda, I'm sorry about what I said. Back in Chicago."

"I knew you were lying when you said it and that's what hurt. That you didn't fight for me."

She was crying then. Rhonda wiped her tears away with the sleeves of her cardigan. Thaddeus watched her, still keeping the space between them.

"That's never going to happen again," he said gruffly.

"Maybe. I don't know for sure. But I'd like you to try."

The earnest expression on his face was exactly what she needed.

"I was a coward," he said, closing his eyes. "You know that saying 'You never really forget your first love'?"

She rolled her eyes, sniffling. "Everybody knows that saying."

He chuckled. "Well, that's what I was trying to do in high school. Forget about you. There's only so many times you can say no to a guy before he finally feels like shit. Even so, I should have gotten the hint earlier. But you became an obsession. An addiction. I decided one day that it couldn't go on. As silly as it sounds, I kind of went cold turkey."

"You're comparing me to a nicotine addiction? It's not the most flattering comparison."

"Yes. And you're just as potent."

"Nice recovery."

"Thanks." He smiled and reached out for her hand. "I started getting involved in running and blocked you out of my mind when I was on the track. When I wasn't, I tried my best to avoid you. It worked. We graduated and I thought I'd never see you again. Then it came crashing down when we met in Rome."

She laughed. "So you had another cigarette."

"You could say that. And I had the worst relapse. I binged. I craved you. It was unhealthy. I knew I was falling back again so I tried to stop it early. Nip it in the bud. Never get dumped by you again."

He shrugged in defeat. "Look how that turned out," he said.

They both sighed. Finally aware of all the times they both messed up. They were aware of each other's flaws and weaknesses. The ability to admit it to themselves as well as to each other was a feat. Together, they were stronger for it.

"We're such screw-ups, huh?" she reflected.

"There might be hope for us yet," he replied.

She had to tell him.

"I have something else I needed to tell you. To be totally honest." She gulped. This is it. The fact that might make him run away. "The child's not Eddy's."

Thaddeus sucked in a breath.

"It's yours."

Everything within him stilled. Rhonda placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He must be terrified out of his skin right now. His breathing had become shallow bursts. His face had gone completely pale.

"You mean… I–" he cleared his throat. "I'm going to be a father?"

She nodded.

"I'm going to be a father," he said slowly. "Wow… I– It's– Are you sure? Are you sure it's mine?" He sounded choked up.

"Pretty sure," she confirmed.

"Is it– Will it be a boy or a girl?" he asked, his eyes were on the tiled floor.

"A boy."

She had found out some time ago in California when she visited an OB/GYN with Helga.

Surprisingly, her answer appeared to sadden him. He seemed to withdraw within himself. This wasn't what she was expecting. She expected him to be shocked, not depressed.

"Thaddeus?"

He clutched his shaking hands together between his legs, elbows propped on his thighs. His dark head bowed over. "You don't– Do you think he'll turn out like me?" he whispered. He shook his head. "I wouldn't want him to."

His reaction broke her heart. Instead of thinking about himself, he immediately thought of their child. She wrapped an arm around him and shifted to his side. She thought about the boy Thaddeus had been, manic and mocked. Wild and outcast. He had a tough time as a child.

"I'm sure he'll be fine. His father did just fine in the end," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. She let her arm fall so she could rub his back. "You know, a wise blonde girl once told me that there's no perfect parent. We all just have to try our best. I think she's right, don't you?"

He gave a jerky nod.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I cast you out of my apartment. You can bring it up whenever I screw up in the future, turkey sandwich," he whispered.

The future. She released a shaky breath. At the mention of his old ridiculous pet name for her, she knew everything will be fine.

"It's okay. From now on we just have to tell each other things. It'll save us a whole lot of trouble. Stop worrying so much, banana split."

Thaddeus gave her a long side glance before sitting a little straighter. He tilted his head, not looking away. The longer strands of his crisp haircut flopping to one side. Then he leaned in and kissed her. Fireworks exploded in front of her eyes. She missed his lips. The soft way they caressed against hers. The feeling in her stomach that reminded her of falling. The way he smelled of oranges and lemons. What was that smell? Was it his shampoo? She had to find out. She sighed happily before they broke apart, their foreheads touching, eyes only on each other.

"I love you. I'm going to make it up to you. Even if it takes our whole lives," he breathed.

Another kiss.

"How?" she gasped.

"One, I'm never telling you to get lost, ever again," he said, cradling her face. He planted on her cheek.

"Even when I've caught you watching porn and masturbating?" she joked.

"Especially when you've caught me watching porn and masturbating, you little pervert," he said with a wide smile. "Two, I'll give you more children if you'd let me."

She really started crying then. His thumbs wiped away her tears. He gave each eye a kiss each to stop her from crying.

"Thaddeus…"

He went back to her lips for another deep kiss.

"Three, I'm going to ask you to marry me."

Her lips stretched in the biggest smile. "I'd say yes." The troubled heiress struggled to remember when she had last felt so happy. She wrapped her arms around his neck, "For the record, I love you too."

Then she tugged on his shirt and tossed it near the door. They smiled at each other like fools. High on life and drunk on love. Thaddeus matched her wide grin and whispered, "I'm so glad we've finally figured it out."

They both laughed. Falling on the tiny bed. Thaddeus propped himself up on top of her, careful of her pregnant belly. He traced her lips with a finger.

"We have to be quiet. My uncle is sort of down the hall," he said before going down on her neck.

"This feels very high school," she pointed out.

He popped up. "You're not still thinking of leaving in the morning, are you?" he asked. "I'll sneak in the trunk of the car you're taking if you do. By the way, Brad's going to be happy we're making out."

Rhonda giggled. She crinkled her nose in mock disgust and smacked his bare chest. "You're bringing up Brad right now? You're such a weirdo."

"I'm your weirdo."

True. Rhonda thought and she couldn't be happier.