This chapter contains an adult situation, although it has been edited down from the original version. It's not very explicit. For those of you who have been following this story, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.

Nancy had almost turned back, so many times. She had tried figuring it out, how the conversation would go with Frank, but actually saying the words I think I want to be friends with Ned again—oh, the words would not pass her lips.

She had been so, so afraid of being anywhere near him again, afraid of what she would do, afraid she would beg him to reconsider and take her back. She had told Bess and George and yes, Frank, so many times, that she hated Ned, and it was true. She hated him. She hated him for not saving her, but she knew, because she had seen into the heart of him, that the knowledge of his failure, the guilt of it, had eaten him alive.

She had lost herself, when he had broken up with her that cold night at Emerson. She had lost herself when he told her that things weren't working, that they hadn't been for a while, that they needed to be free—that he needed to be free.

He had believed it. He had believed that it was for the best. Death or other desires would part them eventually, and when it came to her, he couldn't bear it. Somehow, by some twisted logic, he loved her too much to let it end that way.

Let it happen now. If it must be, let it happen now.

And she had made herself believe it too. She had rent her heart in two and left the better half with him, forced herself to walk away, and given herself insurance. She had deleted his contact information, told her friends not to let her call him, that just the thought of him made her insane with anger, and it hadn't been a lie. He had taken all they had been to each other and dismissed it so easily; even with the breathing beating thread of that strange connection between them, he had been ready to leave her.

It would be easier with someone else. Easier with anyone else.

She had thrown herself into the relationship with Frank with a defiant zeal. For so long she had told herself she couldn't act on the mutual attraction between them, and every kiss she shared with Frank, every caress, was another step away from Ned, from the raw wound his rejection had left inside her. She told herself that Frank was everything she wanted, and part of her actually believed it was true. They were one mind, one indomitable will, and he felt almost like an extension of herself.

But he wasn't. Because she had found that. She had found her counterpart, and she had let him go. And no matter how grimly, how intently she focused on what she had with Frank, his love never made her forget what she had lost.

He would hurt her again. She had to believe that. Ned would hurt her again. Again and again and again. It would never work, no matter how hard she wanted to believe it, no matter how many nights she cried herself to sleep. Frank took her to his bed, knew her as no one else ever had, as Ned had wanted and she had reluctantly denied, and still, in the back of her mind, she could remember that night in the cabin with Ned, the tingle that shot up her spine when he had pushed her pants down, when everything inside her had told her to wrap herself around him and never let him go. She had given up her chance. She would never have it again.

Oh, God, she wished she didn't know what she had lost.

How could Ned love her if he could hurt her like that, so easily.

He couldn't.

She told herself that he never had.

And then he had come to her. Their skin had touched again and all that had been between them, all that she had been trying to forget, was alight again. He had lain himself open to her, let her see all that was within him, swore that he would do everything in his power to make it right again.

But she couldn't do it. She had told herself over and over that, when faced with this choice, if ever she would be, she would have to be strong. He would hurt her again. He would. Regardless of what he said or did, she wasn't good enough for him, she could not change herself for him, and it would take hours or days or years but he would leave again and take all of her with him. When she screamed at him, it took everything in her to do it, to shove him away from her.

She loved him. God, she loved him so much. When Frank held her, asked her if she was all right, kissed her tears away, oh, they were genuine. She sobbed like her heart was breaking because it was, again. Like it would every time she saw him again.

She never, ever, ever wanted to see him again. And it was all she wanted. She walked through her days seeing his face again, her skin tingling where he had touched her, wishing with all her heart that what he had said was true. Things could be different.

She loved Frank. She did. She always had.

What she felt for Ned was so far beyond that. She couldn't imagine going the rest of her life without ever seeing him again, even though the thought of seeing him filled her with pain. She had learned Ned, fallen in love with Ned for the first time, and, she feared, the only time. No one else could ever see into her so clearly or cut into her so deeply as he did.

how is this possible, how is it possible that you and I can do this and we're not together—

And she told herself, while she found his new address, her hands trembling, that she shouldn't. The girl Nancy had seen with Ned in her dreams, she knew on some level, was the girl he was seeing. The girl he would settle for and marry if she left him to himself, the girl he could bring himself to love. He didn't need her.

But oh, she wanted to believe that he did, that he needed her as much as she needed him.

If she walked in and found her there... she would leave again. Leave him forever.

She had almost turned back, so many times.

Then he had been standing in front of her, barechested, a grin fading on his handsome face—

If I touch you... baby, if I ever hold you again, I will never be able to let you go. Not ever.

She had raised her palm to him, and they touched, and she closed her eyes.

Never let me go.

She lost count of the number of times they fought, those first six months. Seeing into each other the way they could meant that when she was angry, a single touch gave her an infinite amount of ammunition, and the same went for him. Every doubt he felt, every flash of annoyance, every irritation, she knew. She knew when he thought to himself miserably that what Frank had said was true, that she was better off with him instead of Ned.

That night she had taken his laptop off his lap and slid on, wrapped her arms around him, touched her forehead to his, and let the euphoria wash over them both.

I thought he was what I wanted. I thought he was everything I needed that you weren't, and baby... as crazy as you drive me sometimes, you're what I want, what I've always wanted. I need the voice of reason, the person who will make me pull back and consider all the angles, the guy who cares so much about me that he's furious when I'm hurt. She smiled.

And God, she knew. She knew the roaring panic that had swept over him every time he had seen her injured, bruised and broken. His fear that she would never wake up, when she had been caught in that twilight after the terrible beating.

I always thought you hated when I was protective.

Part of me did. It was like you didn't trust me. But that's not what it is, at all.

Ned shook his head, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. I'll lose myself, if I lose you again.

They didn't tell anyone about it, the strange connection between them. She had no idea what the hell she would say, and at her checkups the doctor always said her test results were perfect. Gradually she spent more and more time at his place, in his bed, in his arms, and the euphoria that had scared her so much—when they approached that line and pulled back, pulled apart, they ached, like addicts going through instant withdrawal. She was afraid that if she and Ned did take that step, if he made love to her, they would have migraines for three straight days.

But it would feel amazing, in the process.

"I swear, Dad, if you make me late for dinner with Ned—"

"I won't, I promise. I just need to run an idea by you."

Nancy sighed, glancing at her watch as she merged onto the highway. "And you can't do it over the phone?"

"I'm sorry, I can't. I wish I could. You'll just be in and out. And have I mentioned what a great daughter you are?"

Nancy chuckled. "I'm your only daughter," she sighed.

While she hadn't officially moved in with Ned, she was only at her father's house for a night every other week or so. Her father had been quicker to accept her decision to date Ned again than her friends had been, but she understood their reluctance. She had tried so hard to burn her bridges; she had been too successful. Bess, George, Frank had done their best to convince her she was making a terrible decision, especially Frank—and she had hated hurting him, but she couldn't explain. They had seen Ned grab her and stare into her eyes, without speaking a word. They had no idea what had passed between them, what the simple brush of his fingertips against hers could do.

On the last case she had worked with him, a few weeks ago, Frank had limited his snarky comments to a handful, and for that, she was glad.

Frank had taken her virginity. He had been as close to her as a man could be to a woman, and he felt a certain superiority when it came to Ned. She could see it on his face. He thought that no matter what, he had a part of her that Ned could never have.

He didn't understand that just sleeping fully clothed beside Ned was more intimate for her than anything she had ever done with Frank.

Nancy shook her head, dismissing those thoughts as she parked at her father's house. The lawn of the Masters' house was clogged with cars; Nikki must be having another party.

The guard parked behind her. His presence made her father feel safe, made Ned feel safe. Intellectually she balked against it; emotionally, she couldn't help thinking that a bodyguard might have kept her from being so easily captured. She didn't entirely hate his being there.

Nancy glanced down at her outfit. She wore a strapless red chiffon cocktail dress and spiked heels. Ned had told her that their night would involve dinner and dancing, and she couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he saw her. She adjusted her top, then opened the front door, hoping her father wouldn't make some overly protective comment about what she was wearing. "It's—" she began to call.

Then she saw the group gathered in her father's living room.

"Surprise!" they shouted, and she laughed.

They were there, all of them, all her friends. Bess and George were there, Frank and Joe, her aunt Eloise. Hannah and her father, of course. Classmates and so many people she had known over the years.

And Ned. Ned, standing among those people who hated him for what he had done to her, who had no idea what had happened between them. He raised his glass in a toast, and he only had eyes for her.

Surprise, Nan.

I can't believe you managed to keep this secret!

It was tough, believe me. His eyes sparkled.

Her father had arranged to have a dance floor put out in the back garden, complete with a DJ. After Hannah brought out her cake, the surface a sea of flickering candles, they headed outside.

She slipped her arms up around Ned's neck and he wrapped his arms around her waist, and they swayed together, their gazes locked, smiling faintly.

You look amazing.

You don't look so bad yourself. Her boyfriend wore a pair of tailored pants and a crisp grey button-down. She brushed her fingertips against the nape of his neck, and he shivered, just a little.

Thank you, for keeping this a surprise. She smiled. I love you, baby. So much.

Ned's eyes were dark and intense, and she was so damn aware of him. I love you too.

During the next dance he went inside to get her a cup of soda, and that was when she saw Frank. He offered her his hand and she considered for a moment, then nodded.

"Happy birthday, Nan."

"Thank you," she said politely, keeping a few inches of space between them. "Thanks for coming. I can't believe you guys pulled this off."

"Me either," Frank admitted. "Nan... he's got a lot of guts, to show himself here with us."

She shook her head. "I'm glad he's here," she said. "I know what I said before, but I was angry. And I'm glad all of you are doing your best to... to be polite."

Frank chuckled. "We are," he said. "But... I want you to know, Nan, that if he hurts you again? Ever again? Just tell me, and I will end him."

Her lips curved up in a small, barely humorous smile. "I don't deserve such loyal friends," she murmured.

"And he doesn't deserve you."

That was when Ned tapped him on the shoulder. "Mind if I cut in?"

"I do," Frank said. "But she's the birthday girl, so she gets what she wants. Have a great birthday, Nan."

"Thanks," she said again, accepting the cup of soda Ned handed her. She swallowed half of it in one long gulp.

I seem to remember I was promised dancing.

Well, that and dinner... if cake counts as dinner.

Two out of three isn't too bad.

Two? I count one.

I was counting what you've got on under that dress.

Nancy made a face at him. "Oh, so you can keep secrets, but I can't."

Ned put her cup down on a nearby table and swept her up into his arms. "You can't," he confirmed, his lips brushing her neck. Not from me.

They stumbled into the apartment together near midnight, flushed and giggling. The night had gone well, considering. Bess and George had been friendly toward Ned. Frank hadn't stayed for very long, but at least a fight hadn't broken out.

They had held hands the entire way up to his door, and by the time he keyed inside, she was already tingling in anticipation. She tossed her purse onto the couch and Ned trapped her between him and the door, unzipping her dress, letting it pool at her feet. She slipped her arms up around his neck, leaving her dress there; she was going to have to take it to be cleaned anyway.

Happy birthday, Nan.

It's not my birthday yet, she reminded him as he leaned down, brushing his lips against hers.

Well, isn't that a shame. Guess I'll have to give you your present early...

Oh. Will you.

Yeah. She ran her fingers through his hair as he deepened the kiss, the tip of his tongue moving against hers. If you're interested.

Depends. Will I like it?

He picked her up and carried her with him to his bedroom. She felt energized, sensitive, euphoric at the touch of his skin against hers, and he loved the way she looked, and that made her feel sexy as hell.

I think so. I sure as hell will.

He kept one hand on her—maintaining contact was the key, they had found—and let his gaze slide down her body. You look incredible.

Got any surprises under there for me? she asked saucily, one eyebrow cocked.

Well, there is one...

She unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders, and he unfastened and stepped out of his pants. Together they slid onto the bed, twining around each other, always touching, ever touching. They kissed until their lips were swelled and sensitive, and then he began to kiss his way down.

She grasped his undershirt and pulled it up, moaning. Oh God, when they were this close she never wanted it to stop. Once his shirt came off she ran her fingertips down his back, arching, pulling him back up to her.

They rolled over, and when he began to push her panties down, she took her bra off. His underwear followed, and she sighed, arching as he ran his palms up and down her back.

Oh God, it felt amazing. Every single time, it felt so fucking amazing, to be so close to him. She leaned down to kiss him again, and when they were like this, there were no questions, there was no uncertainty. They knew what they wanted.

She wanted it. Fuck it all. She didn't care if she was in bed with a migraine for the next three days, the next three weeks. She wanted him.

"I know," he said, and he was smiling when she opened her eyes.

He knew she had been with Frank. She knew that he had been ready to explode for want of her since they first time they had tumbled into his bed, after.

They might have been with other people, they had been with other people, but it didn't matter. They were each other's only, and she felt like a virgin again.

They scrambled to each other, and she wrapped herself around him tight, their mouths meeting in rough desperate kisses. She shivered against him.

I love you. I love you so much, Nan.

She was flushing, and when he touched her, her mouth fell open. "Oh, Ned..." I love you oh God I love you so much oh God

"Fuck," Ned gasped out, sliding his arms around her and holding her close to him after. "Oh my God."

"Yeah," she whispered, resting her head against his shoulder. She kissed the side of his neck, tasting his sweat. "Oh my God."

It's never been like that...

I know. For me either.

She didn't want to let him go. She never wanted to let him go.

He nuzzled against her, kissing the point of her jaw, her earlobe. "I love you," he murmured. "I love you so much, baby."

"And I love you," she whispered, capturing his mouth with hers. He let himself fall back onto the bed, his hands buried in her hair, and they made out lazily, slowly. She didn't want to let him go, didn't want the pain, but she had to.

She moved back, slipped off the bed—

And when they weren't in contact, she could feel it, but the pounding, splitting headache she had been expecting was reduced to a soft warm throbbing in her head.

She returned to him, and they slipped under the covers together, naked, moving easily into each other's arms.

"Thank you," she whispered. For waiting so long.

Ned smiled and smoothed her hair back. Thank you, he returned. For waiting so long.

He had seen it, with Rachel. The white picket fence, the children. The life he'd wanted, that he'd never been able to see with her. The life Frank had told him she would never settle for.

But with Ned, it wouldn't be settling. Not at all. It would be perfect.

Ned stroked his fingertips down the side of her face. "We don't... have to rush into anything," he said softly.

"And we won't," she replied. But I want that. I want it with you.

He rolled over onto her, pinning her under him, and gazed steadily into her eyes. You do.

She ran her fingers through his hair, and nodded.

He couldn't smile, but she could feel it inside him.

She pressed her lips to his, softly. You are my home, Ned, she told him. You always have been. You always will be. And it won't be easy...

You're my home too, Nan. His brown eyes were dark as they searched hers. You are everything.

She smiled, then nuzzled against his chest, feeling his heart beat against her.

You're mine too, she said. "You're my everything too."