Chapter 31

She tilted her head as she watched him navigate the early weekend traffic. After their big discussion two days before he’d seemed to become even more inquisitive. Questions popped up at the oddest times, in the middle of a chord progression as he worked on a final song, right in the middle of cooking. Time or place hadn’t seemed to matter. And she’d answered each question in detail. That’s what trying was all about right?

It had revved up his trying to get her into bed too. Damn the man, horny seemed to be a perpetual state of being for him, but she’d had to refuse him, repeatedly. He hadn’t liked that until she’d finally, in exasperation explained about the contract. His only response to that was to fuck the contract, he wanted her. If anything was tempting to do, it would be that, but she’d held off and gotten torment for the payment. The man simply could not keep his hands to himself. He’d finally relented somewhat, AFTER getting her to agree to at least sleep with him. Ha, she hadn’t slept for two nights thanks to that agreement. Mr. Wandering Hands in his sleep had made sure of that. Thank God they were headed back to the city. She might could get a bit of sleep and get his cover done. She was past more than ready to give in. One more day at his house? She’d be nothing but mush. She just knew it.

She turned to watch him drive, the light in his eyes and that half smirk on his lips setting fires in the pit of her belly. He seemed so relaxed for someone heading back into the heart of the Big Apple. Had simply agreeing to try done that for him? A slight smile snuck onto her lips as she leaned back, her eyes closing. He was even humming, probably some dash of inspiration that would make its way into a song once he hit the studio again.

It was amazing at how quickly life changed. She’d left New York an unattached graphic’s artist and was returning in a semi sort of kinda relationship. Exactly what kind of relationship hadn’t been worked out yet. There were still the kinks involved with being under contract, and his needing to finish all he had to finish, but she’d given her word to see where it would lead, and that she’d stick too.

She couldn’t help herself. She WANTED to see where it would all lead. He defied description in so many ways, for the everyday Jersey guy he was. Hell he wasn’t just some Jersey guy, for all his protestations, and that was probably why he’d managed to wrangle all of her secrets out that night. Her heart warmed as the words flowed through her memories. He’d ended up finding out everything, about her limitations and medical background and none of it had phased him. At least it hadn’t yet.

For now she’d agreed to see what would happen, and if that one night they’d played with fire were any indication, she was in for an interesting time. Would he want to stay at her place? Would he want her at his? She could picture him all too easily sprawled out on her bed, the wisps of fabric just hiding him from view as she painted…. Her eyes popped open as the inspiration hit. She wanted to paint him, she hadn’t wanted to pick up a brush in years, but now it was there, throbbing in her finger tips, making her palms itch. She wanted at her oils and in the worst way, she could see the paint on the canvas even now.

The change in her was amazing to see. Her finger twirled a lock of her loose hair. That in itself was impressive. The fact that she even allowed him to see that softer side of her was a step in the right direction as far as he was concerned. "You gonna let me in on the smirk?"

Her head swiveled as his voice broke into her thoughts, one brow lifting quizzically. "You wouldn't believe me or agree to it more than likely."

"Depends on how much of it includes me and naked."

One hand lifted to push her frames up into her hairline. "Well it does include you, but not naked, at least not initially."

She closed one eye in a wink, "although it might fuel a fantasy or two." Her heart double stepped and sped up as the words escaped her.

"Hmm...initially, huh?" He flashed a grin at her, then back at the road. "I'm all about keeping naked on the table--so to speak." He cleared his throat at her delighted laugh.

"Yeah, there's definite nakey in my future."

He'd offered her so much, and the more she thought of it the more it hit her that he was offering more than a few moments of pleasure on some big bed. If she were right, he'd thrown his heart into the equation. And he wanted, god she could feel it radiating off of him even now. How would he handle being asked to wait until the contract was over? Hell Alex, one thing at a time. Start with the easy stuff, don't jinx things if you don't have too.

"Well," she glanced at him a moment before turning to watch the scenery, "I have this urge to paint, haven't had that in years really, for all the reasons you learned on bet night, but I can feel it, makes my fingers tingle with the need."

She turned to watch him again, "Ever had your fingers tingle with the need to actually ....well play? Or write? Its like that for me right now, just with oils, well, I'd like to paint you."

He lifted her hand to his mouth, his tongue flicking over the fragile skin of her wrist. "You just described the best part of me. The part of me that will always keep us on even ground."

She pulled away from the maddening flicks of his tongue, her finger trailing quickly along his cheek. "I want to try at least, try to show you the real me..." she took a deep breath and plunged in as far as she could safely go, "at least, try to. I've spent so many years killing that side of me I may not be able too."

He laced their fingers together. "Anytime you stifle that side of you--the creative side--it will eventually knock you on your ass." He leaned in and nuzzled her neck. "Delectable ass as it may be," he laughed when she pushed him back and complained that he needed to watch the road. "I've showed you mine--now you show me yours."

"You've already seen mine." Eyes widened as the teasing words left her lips. She hadn't teased anyone in forever, where had that come from? " I mean, you've seen my sketches, my place," her words faded off as they started sounding more like the come up to see my etchings, than a certified offer to sit for a portrait. "What have you done to me eh?"

"I've also seen that big, white bed that says Richie," he lowered his voice. "Richie...you could drop her in the middle of that bed and not come up for air for hours." When the blush went dark, he laughed long and low. "I could breathe you in, steal your paintbrushes and see just what else we can come up with. Ever played with finger paints?"

She felt the thrill of the words as the tingle of awareness reared into full blown madness. Leaning into his ear she first took a slight taste of his ear lobe before whispering, "I hear chocolate works better than silly old finger paints."

He watched the road from the corner of his eye, latching onto her lips. At her quick intake of breath, he slid inside her mouth until he could suck on her tongue for a moment. Just enough to feel the hiccup of her breath. "Chocolate, vanilla, fuck if I care if it's butterscotch. I just want to taste all that silky skin on your inner thighs...well, at least to start."

She pushed away, her heart falling right into the floorboard as she turned his face forward again. "Eyes on the road man, I wanna live to see the city." Yeah, make it out like your afraid Alex, you know if he keeps it up you'll have him pulling over and you so can't do that.

She sucked in a breath and managed to straighten in her seat. "and don't think you can get me off subject like that. Won't work Mister. Will you sit for me or not?"

"As long as I have something to do, I can sit forever. So I guess I bring my guitar." He smirked. "You're good enough to take it out of the painting if you don't want it in there."

She exhaled slowly, knowing she didn't need him there to paint him. The painting was already fulled formed in her head, her fingers itching to mix the colors that would reveal it to the canvas. "Just the guitar?"

"Is there anything else in this life?"Hhe gripped her thigh. "I'd love to see you just wearing my guitar."

"No you don't, you wanna see me sans clothes and you know that guitar wouldn't hide anything."

"I've seen you naked. I want to see you naked every day." He cupped the back of her neck. "Don't you forget that, you're beautiful."

She shook her head and turned her gaze back to the road. "Flattery will get you... most anywhere." She wondered then if he would just go for the seeing her naked, because she wasn't about to endanger her job to give him what went along with it. The contract was due to be over soon, she already had the mock ups for the album done. Could she hold out until then?

"I aim to please, darlin'." He glanced over at her, then pitched his voice lower. "In every way possible."

Chapter 30

Richie picked his way around the cobblestones that faded into the beach. After their dinner and Alex’s reaction to whatever it was that she didn’t want to share with him, he decided to give her a little time to get herself together. What could be so bad that she was so incredibly sure that he’d be dust as soon as he heard it?

He couldn’t imagine anything that would turn him off about her. Bad childhood? History with a man? It was so hard to tell. She kept to herself about just about everything in her life. The fact that he was willing to give up part of himself to another person was huge, but to a woman that barely gave him an inkling to her inner workings was stupid. Cosmically stupid, in all honesty—but he had to know.

He was tired of holding back, tired of mistrusting his instincts. He wanted more than just her body or the stingy pieces she let go on an odd moment. He wanted this. He wanted all of her demons to be out in the open. His sure as fuck were. Stuffing his hands in his pockets he headed up the steps.

Alex was curled into the corner of his couch—as usual—a sketchpad in her lap. Her long legs were twisted into a pretzel of comfort as he liked to call it. Her long legs crossed, ankles tucked together as she used her thighs for a desk. Colored pencils fanned from a knot at the top of her head. It amazed him that all it took were a handful of colors and she could make just about anything.

The long line of her neck bent in concentration called to him as he peeked over her shoulder. His house was there on her page. Sketchy and pretty, it seemed like a cottage on the edge of paradise. With just a few angles she’d captured the essence of his home and the water that called to him no matter the coast. “It’s beautiful,” he said, laying his hand on her shoulder. To her credit, she didn’t jump and his cock kicked against his slacks when she arched under the soft stroke of his thumb against her nape.

Her eyes closed as she felt herself move into his touch. [i]Enjoy it while you can you glutton for punishment.[/i]

"Thanks," she settled the pad next to her and fought the sudden case of nerves that started thundering in her heart. "Wondered when you'd get back." Of course he'd have to come back, he lived here.

She pulled away from his touch and stood, making her way to the large bay window. "Lots to think over?"

He sat across from her. "You haven't let me in on the big bad secret that's going to have me seeing just how fast my Jeep can go from zero to sixty."

The beauty of the night outside was lost to her as she closed her eyes. Damn him, when he went for blood he went. No cozying up to a big question with leading ones, oh no, not him. Fingers tightened into balls and she relished the tiny pain her nails caused as they dug crescents into her palm. Turning she forced her eyes open and met his curious gaze dead on.

"It's simple. I'm just not woman enough for anyone. So I've been told. Not artist enough either, but that’s another story. I'm bad news for any man who wants what most men want."

She winced and continued, "You've been beat up enough by those you trusted, so I can't let that happen to you now. You deserve the things you wish for, and I can't give them too you." She turned to walk to the bedroom, knowing she had been clear as mud, but it was clear enough. She was bad news.

"Alex," Richie kept his voice soft, but firm. "Walking away from me isn't the answer. Not to mention the fact that you’re welching on a bet." He knew there was more to her half assed confession, there had to be.

When she stopped in the middle of the room, he spoke to her back. "You're talking to a recovering addict, alcoholic, all around fuck up. There's nothing you've got that's going to scare me away."

She whirled, her back stiffening as anger warred with indignation. "So did not welch on a bet. Told you what you wanted. I'm bad news. So what if you're a recovering addict, at least you're real." She felt the anger leave her, felt the bluster work its way from her heart. "And you can give a woman everything. You act like you have nothing, like you’re a train wreck, all because you can’t forgive yourself, but you have SO much to offer someone. I have nothing to offer."

She straightened and met his curious gaze head on. He wanted it all, fine; she'd give it to him.

He watched her go still, her usually golden skin going pale, and when she turned to stare out the window, her voice a quiet monotone he took a step forward to hear.

“I was twenty four and fresh out of art school. Painting, it was my one love, my obsession. It’s all I wanted, to be the next great Matisse.” She felt the snort leave her, “Anyhows I moved to Soho, had a bit of money saved and decided to just paint.”

“That’s when I met Rafe.”

Richie shook his head, he’d known there had to be a man at the center of things, only love could turn someone as icy cold as his Lex had become. He took a step towards her, his hand moving to settle gently on her shoulder and wasn’t surprised when her shoulders were tight with tension. He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “I’m right here Lex.”

She felt the comfort of his touch and wanted to pull away, his quiet warmth and understanding were not helping her get the point across. She closed her eyes and forced herself to stand still and pushed the next words from the pit of her soul where they’d been locked for so long.

“I fell in love, totally crazily in love and before I even realized it I was married to him. Love would only make me a better artist, we’d live off of love and the emotion would make the painting better.” She shivered as the memories flooded her mind, her words moving faster and faster to keep up “All that happened doesn’t matter, but as time went on I started feeling tired all the time, and seemed to always be in pain. Rafe thought I was just trying to get out of hitting the scenes he did, that it was an excuse; that I didn’t want him to make it in the music scene.”

Richie’s brow quirked upwards as another puzzle piece slotted into place. Not only a man but a musician? [i]Please God don’t let him have played the fuckin’ guitar.[/i]

Her head tilted up, a slight smile flitting across her lips for a second or two at the look in his eyes and answered the question she could feel tumbling in his head. “He was a vocalist, and not a very good one, but to me he was better than Pavarotti, and it wasn’t that I didn’t want him to make it, something was going on with me healthwise. Finally I screwed up enough nerve to visit a doctor, and after what seemed like a million tests, the doctor started throwing around words like endometriosis and hydrosalpinx.”

“Big fuckin’ words that in its simplest form mean, no babies for you, not without a lot of grief and a lot of dollars for bigger better fancier doctors.”

“When Rafe found out, it was like some light switch flicked off. From the day I told him things changed. Suddenly I could do nothing right. My painting was wrong, choice of color was wrong, and he let me know it often and vocally. He made sure I understood I had no talent, no promise to be anything ever.”

“Of course every rant held the dig about how I couldn’t give him children, something he wanted one day it seems. He’d laugh and tell me no man wanted a woman that was only half a woman. After he left, I was alone again. Parents gone, husband gone and it hit me. I was meant to be alone. I put away the paint, the brushes and I went out to find a job I could do with the training I had.”

She let go of a sigh then and turned. "So now you know. I'm just not good enough. Not for you especially. Once you get over the forgiving yourself part, you'll want a real woman, and I hope you find her. You deserve that."

Richie lunged for her, twirling her back around until he could clasp each arm. "Don't turn away from me and don't pretend you know what I want or need in a woman."

Hearing her blame herself; the pain in her voice and the longing that seeped through her words made him want to drag her in closer. That wasn't what she needed now. Understanding could come later--when she let him in.

"Lex, just because you can't have kids, doesn't make you less of a woman. I swear it doesn't. This Rafe that told you otherwise is obviously an ass and you're better off without him."

She shuddered as his words washed over her. He wanted another child, he'd said that, and yet he was saying she didn't understand what he wanted?

She felt her eye twitch as a small tic formed, her sigh whispering from her. "Yes maybe he was an ass, I won't even argue that point."

She tilted her head, stubborn until the end. "What do you want then? What the hell can I offer to someone who has it all? My sparkling wit?"

His fingers gathered at the back of her neck, letting all that golden silk free as the pencils scattered around them. "A woman isn't defined by a baby, Lex. You of all people should realize this. Letting one man completely feed your fears for the rest of your life? Is that really how you want to live it?"

He caught her lips in a quick and urgent kiss. "This," he drew her in closer, letting them meet knee to knee, thigh to thigh and chest--no heart, to heart. "That's what matters. Something this good would be enhanced by a child--I wouldn't deny that, but there are plenty of ways to go about that if it was really what you wanted." When she stood stiffly against him, he tried again. Leaning in, he brushed his lips with hers.

"If anyone's a bad bet here, it's me. I wouldn't blame you for running, but I'm not going to give you the push." When her lips finally softened against his, he let the kiss grow.

She lost herself in the kiss, hands winding up to encircle his neck even as the doubts clawed at her gut. Breaking the kiss she pushed back and gave it one more try before she gave in. "I've failed at everything, don't you see? Failed at so much, I don't think I could stand failing you."

"The only way you could fail me is to leave now." He held onto her. "To not even give us a try doesn't match up to the strong woman I know you are."

Her brow quirked upwards as she felt herself actually smile. "I don't think you know what you're asking for there."

She leaned in, pressing her lips to his and let her kiss give the answer her heart had been clamoring for all along the way, the answer she'd fought tooth and nail against yet no longer wanted too.

Stopping them even before they had a chance to start was cheating both of them. And as he fell into her kiss, into the sweet smell of her skin, he hoped that he could convince her that they were worth a try.

She leaned in as he tugged her closer, her heart hammering, as it, for the first time in years, allowed itself to think on the what ifs. What if he was right? What if he was different? What if trying didn’t mean failure this time? What if not having children wasn’t the be all end all she’d made it out to be in her mind?

As those thoughts whispered through her brain, her heart and soul inched into her fingers as they twisted into his hair, and her lips opened to the simple flavor of his kiss. As the kiss ended she struggled to breathe, the very ability to remember how to lost in the darkness of his brown eyes. “Well ok, I’ll give ya that. It’s worth a try.”

Pulling her in tight, he pressed his cheek to her hair. Fear mingled into relief. God, could he be enough for her? He couldn't remember wanting anything quite that much in a long time.

When she locked her hands around his waist and lay her head on his chest, he sighed and let the faith he'd been missing wash over him. Maybe...just maybe.

Chapter 29

She tugged at the skirt, a frustrated breath huffing out to ruffle the hair she’d left hanging free. He’d wanted dinner out, someplace fancy no less and she had to play dress up. Wear something pretty. His voice still resounded inside of her memory just as his smirk had. He was going all out to collect on his bet.

Well she’d just have to go all out and find a way to answer without answering, or confuse him with feminine wiles.Hell what wiles do I have? She shook her head and pulled THE DRESS from her closet, the one he’d gotten all hot and bothered over the day they’d shopped. In for a penny, in for a pound.She reached for the last pair of glasses she'd managed to keep, then stopped, her hand hovering over the frames. No, I'll leave them off, he seems to dislike my glasses more than anything. One more thing to help me disarm the questions hopefully.

Giving herself one last cursory look as she straightened the ties and pleats she nodded at the completed look. Hopefully she could lessen the blow of her honesty, and if not, well she’d already packed.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening her bedroom door. Stepping down the hallway she slowly descended the stairs and for the briefest moment wanted her glasses to hide behind.Fuck.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she stopped on the bottom stair, looked into the living room and knew she'd be toast if he tried hard enough. God damn him, why'd he have to go and wear a leather suit? Is he psychic?

Plastering a smile on her face she coughed slightly, "well here I am."

The line of ruffles that snaked down her leg with each step she took had him buttoning his suit jacket. Goddamn it! Why did he want to take her in public?

Every part of him wanted to drag her back upstairs and see just where the ties started and the skin began.

"There you are, indeed." He brushed a hand down his belly to make sure the button stayed.

She stepped off the stair and made her way too him, the more fanciful part of herself feeling as if she were walking to her execution, while the more hormonal part of herself felt the knot in her belly doing a sudden slow burn.

Her brow arched as she caught a glance of his shirt, unbuttoned of course behind the jacket, its color a brilliant shade of purple. She bit back a groan and nodded. "You look nice for a semi suit."

He grinned. "Well, if you have to do a suit, it should be one you're comfortable in." He tried not to react to the long line of her neck or the curl of her hair along her breast. Tried not to notice the way it criss-crossed over her perfect handful of breasts.

He could feel the itch of her nipple in the center of his palm, remembered her under him, over him, arching into his touch. Not standing there like she was a block of ice. Touching him because she wanted to.

He shook that thought away and held out an arm. "Shall we?"

Her heart started hammering in her chest at the motion and knew if she wanted to make it through the night she'd have to give, at least a little. Sliding her arm through his she allowed herself a small moment to enjoy the heat and scent of him before speaking. "So where are we off too for dinner?"

"Ari's," he said simply. At her blank look, he laughed. "An old friend from the neighborhood actually opened up a shop about twenty minutes from here." His grin kicked up. "Seriously, the best Italian food you can ever have. When she leaned against him, he shrugged his shoulder to get her to face him, dropping a soft kiss on her surprised lips. "I'm going to ply you with wine and good food---then maybe I won't have to kill myself to learn everything there is to know about you tonight."

Her lip twisted into a semi smirk as she nodded. "Thanks for the warning."

At the arch of his brow she shrugged, "Maybe you'll end up disappointed, " and maybe I'll just stick to water.

He rubbed his thumb along her lower back. The day this woman disappointed him, was the day he stopped recording. "I kinda think that it's an impossibility. I don't care what's in your past, just that I get to see some of your future."

She shook her head as they stepped outside and he opened the car door for her. "You say that now."

Hell he didn't know, it was easy for him to say that now, but later? She was sure he'd be appalled, then try to make it better, men always did. They were fixer's the lot of them. But give them time, when they couldn't fix it, and they'd be gone. Knowing that, she'd figure a way to vanish before it happened. As it was, the parting was going to damn near kill her.

She stilled as she clicked the seat belt in place, her mind spinning at that very thought. When had he become that important to her? When had the thought of not seeing him made her tummy ache? Fuck.

"I mean it, Lex. If anyone has baggage, it's me." He leaned into her, when her breath hitched at his nearness he brushed his knuckles along her cheek. "Nothing you could say would make me turn away from you."

"Wanna bet on that one?"

He met her eyes. "Do you really want to lose another bet to me?"

She snorted then, "Never mind, I take it back. Once is enough thank you kindly."

She twisted in her seat and studied him a moment, the urge to lean into him overpowering in its intensity. "I don't think I could handle losing another bet to ya.” Lost enough to you already Mr. Sambora by losing my darned heart.

He gripped the back of her neck and dragged her in. The fact that she barely resisted told him how much she wanted a taste of him. He forced himself to keep the kiss as close to controlled as possible, but her taste exploded on his tongue. He dragged his mouth across her cheek into her sweet smelling hair until he found her ear. "If I have to win every bet I can think of, I will get to know you, Lex. I just wish you would let me in."

Pulling away from the kiss she managed a nod, her brain already short circuiting from his nearness. She turned to watch the ocean through the car window and murmured, "Maybe I'm afraid to. Losing someone like you would be a mighty big blow ya know."

She softened the murmur with a half smile, and let it sound teasing, but she knew to the core of her being how truthful it was. Nothing she'd lost so far in her life was going sting like losing him would.

He sat back in his seat. "You say it like it's a forgone conclusion." If anyone should be running it was her. He was a train wreck. Oh he'd started back on a reasonably safe route, but there wasn't a guarantee on his schedule.

She quieted as he pulled into the parking lot of Ari's and forced back the tendrils of dread that were starting to build in her belly. It was now or never, do or die. "I'll do the best I can to let you in. You’re a good guy, for all your mistaken belief in being bad news. I just hope you think fondly of me after you get what you wish for."

Resisting the urge to slam his door he rounded the car. "It's that defeatist attitude that pisses me off. I just want to be with you. The only one who's stopping this is you." He cupped her face, tracing his thumb over her cheek. "I'm the one that should worry about you running, not the other way around."

She slid from the car, a slight laugh escaping her. "Just protecting a very nice man from disappointment Mr. Sambora." She winked his way before looping her arm through his. "Shall we?"

The dinner was delicious and the talk was as light as Ari's cream sauce. She finally let him into her world--even if it was only a small corner of it. She even managed to laugh her way through the first two courses.

He allowed her to pretend and even encouraged her to give him the surface stories of the clients she'd worked with over the years. But there was a tension around her eyes that even her distracting belly laugh and length of her exquisite neck couldn't hide. She was trying too hard to steer the conversation into safe topics.

"So tell me about this father figure I'll have to contend with?"

She blinked as the direction of the questions took a sudden turn. The easy part was over with, she could tell it by the gleam of his eye, the way he had suddenly leaned in to her. Reaching for her wine, she took a quick swallow, more to settle nerves than enjoy its taste.

"Nothing to worry about there. They died, quite a while back really."

His hand crossed the table, covering hers. "God, I'm sorry. I lost my dad recently. It never gets any easier."

"She shook her head a moment, a half sad smile creeping onto her lips. "After twenty five years, I barely remember them. Sometimes, even looking at photos I have to stop and remind myself, that was mom or that was dad. Terrible of me huh?"

Like a Rubics cube a few of her colors finally made sense. She was used to being alone. God, at such a young age.

"No, not terrible. That's the beauty of photographs. We'll never quite forget."

Her head tilted, "Photo's are so one dimensional though. You're a lucky guy, you still can remember a laugh or a frown, a particular saying. Sometimes I try to do that and it's just not there for me."

She glanced down then, her finger playing in the water circle left by her glass. "Made me strong though, so I guess it was a good thing. In its own way."

"Making memories isn't just for those you're related to," he said quietly. "What if I want you to make some memories with me." He met her shifting gaze. "What if I want them to be longer than just a few weeks?"

Her attention was pulled from the water circles to his face, the intensity there alternately thrilling and scaring the living shit out of her. "No one stays around that long. Not after."

"What if I was different?" He leaned into her space covering both her hands. "Would it be so bad to trust someone again?"

She studied him as everything about him, each memory, each word he’d spoken flitting through her mind. What if he was different? Could she risk that knowing how he felt about his daughter and kids?

There was no easy answer. She trusted him, and in knowing all she did about him she trusted she'd get herself hurt in the doing of what he asked. Pushing the thought away she managed a brief smile. "I do trust you actually." Trust you to do just what any man who loves kids to do when it all comes out.

"I wish I could believe you," he said gently. He lifted her wrist to his mouth, kissing the side. "Maybe I can convince you tonight."

She felt the thrill of his touch winding through her dread. No matter what, his touch always managed to drive away the demons, at least for a moment or two.

Her voice grew whispery and intense as she offered up a single sudden prayer for this one time to be different, for her not to end up alone. "Maybe you will be. You'll be the first if so. They always leave in the end."