Marissa stood motionless, blinking rapidly as she stared at the door. "Marissa?" that voice…that voice…repeated, sounding concerned. "Just a moment," she called, willing her voice to sound strong and indifferent, instead of shaky and uncertain. She typed in the security code slowly, frantically trying to figure out what she was going to do. With a trembling finger, she pressed the last digit and ran to the bathroom, calling, "Come in, I'll be right out".

Leonard cautiously walked into the apartment building, frowning in confusion at the fancy alarm system inside the door. The Marissa Benson he knew had been adventurous, fearless. In the years that they had lived together, they owned no alarm system other than a deadbolt lock and a whole lot of trust. He flinched as a door slammed.

Pulling the door shut tightly behind her, she squinted at the mirror, assessing her reflection. Two and a half hours of sobbing had left red splotches across her face, and her eyes were red and puffy. Groaning to herself, she quickly brushed out her hair, and splashed cold water on her face. She opened the medicine cabinet, where she stored her makeup in childproof containers, and then paused.

While she was with Leonard, she would spend close to an hour every morning, emphasizing or concealing various facial features. After he left, she rarely wore anything but chapstick. Closing her eyes, she imagined leaving the bathroom, and falling into his arms again. As they shared a long, passionate, tearful, embrace, he would murmur words into her ear about how beautiful she was, and that he never stopped loving her.

Opening her eyes, she shook her head, clearing away the image. Equally as appealing would be marching out there, a completely independent woman, and screaming at Leonard. How dare he come by unannounced like this? How dare he turn her into this overprotective, aggressive, lonely old woman? Oh, so now that the hard part of raising a child is done, he wants to enjoy the incredible young man Freddie has become? Once again, he wants to make this beautiful celebration, Freddie's marriage, all about him? She took a deep breath, counted to ten, and left the bathroom.

Leonard had sat down on the couch in the living room, eyes roaming around the apartment, trying to understand what Marissa had become. Everything seemed very…safe. And sterilized. If it weren't for the many photographs of Marissa and Freddie, (in frames that appeared to be rinsed with bleach and pounded with a mallet?) this could have been anyone's apartment. Anyone with young children, who required everything to be child-proofed. This completely perplexed Leonard. Freddie didn't even live at home anymore. Was Marissa remarried? Did she have young children with this new man? The very thought formed a lump in his throat, though he really couldn't blame her. Just because he hadn't moved on, hadn't even seriously dated for the past twenty-something years, didn't mean that she hadn't. Although she was pretty old to be having children…

"Hi, Leonard," Marissa said quietly, walking into the living room. She was pleased that her voice was quiet, but cold. His eyes darted to her left hand as he stood, and he was relieved to find no wedding ring. Although that didn't necessarily mean…"Hello, Marissa. I'm sorry for dropping in on you like this. I know I should have called first, but I'm staying in the area and wanted to stop by. If you'd rather I leave, just say the word," he said, in that slow, careful way of his. Yes, she thought. Leave. I can't do this right now. Freddie and I have managed just fine on our own. Just go. But instead, she said, "No, it's alright. Here, have a seat. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"

They sat at the kitchen table, each cradling a coffee cup, in an uncomfortable silence. Small talk had dried up before the coffee had finished brewing; a short conversation about the unchanging rain of Seattle had lasted while Marissa poured the coffee. They each took a long sip. Reenergized by the caffeine, Marissa looked at Leonard for the first time. His thick head of hair looked exactly the same as she remembered it, but the salt and pepper flecks of gray and white were new. His clothes were starched and ironed, the collared shirt and pressed khaki pants that he regularly wore when not working. Although he looked thinner than when she last saw him, the muscles she remembered seemed to have softened into his body. An involuntary blush crept over her cheeks as she wondered what his appraisal of her was.

Years of living alone had left Leonard comfortable with silence, but he could tell that Marissa was [] trying to fill the pause in conversation. A lovely red flooded her face, masking the worry lines surrounding her eyebrows and mouth. Leonard was pleased (really, he was) to see the laugh lines fanning out from the corner of her eyes. He leaned slightly closer to her, trying to figure out what was making her blush.

She took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair. "Listen, Leonard. We both know that you didn't come here to discuss the rain," she said. "Why are you here?"