I hear the chattering voices as soon as I get near the house, and so I follow them round the side terrace to the back patio by the pool.

Tash is curled up in Greg's lap on the patio sofa, her hair piled on top of her head looking tanned and sleepy.  Nick is lying flat on his back on a sun lounger by the pool using lots of hand gestures to make a point.

"Yeah but the problem is Tash, he never did anything he said he was going to do - Guantanamo being the prime example. He ended up being like every other politician on the planet, turning his back on the entire foundation of what he stood on. He did nothing. He let people down."  Nick sounds exasperated. Greg nods, agreeing.

"Yes but the point little brother," She sighs. "Is that a country still hugely divided by racism, elected a black bloody president! That's the point.  If you can't see the enormity of that paradigm shift then you're being a twat!" she's frustrated now. Nick always frustrates Tash when ever they discuss politics.

"Well of course I'm a twat Tash but that doesn't mean he should have used his race to get the black vote and then do nothing with it. Do you honestly think life for the ordinary black person in America improved in anyway whatsoever just by him becoming president? Arguably it got worse." Nick is sitting up now and the two of them are facing off.

Nick and Tash both have very strong opinions about things- all us Marlowes do I guess, but they get so riled up-especially when there is wine involved. When we were younger it used to be about silly things, like what we'd have for dinner, who had to stay home with me when mum and dad went out, who got the attic room when their friends stayed over.

Normally I just let them go at it. The winner of these bouts is roughly even to my count. Nick looks to be winning this one from where I'm standing but it's early yet.

Greg spots me as I come closer and he gives me a knowing smile. My sister's husband is an attractive, tall American and he looks very American - in that he's blonde, broad shouldered, plays sports and has a perfect white smile.

He grew up in Santa Barbara and works for a large law firm based in LA who came in to takeover Tash's smaller firm in London. They fell in love and he spirited her back to California with him where she now ran on the beach every morning and did pilates four days a week and lived the perfect life. 

I could almost hate him for taking her away if he wasn't so bloody perfect and lovely, and if he didn't worship her so hard.

"And you would know how the average black person in America feels because??" Tash asks him, voice high from wine and the frustratingly admirable way Nick has of arguing his point to the death.

"You guys really need to stay off politics. It's not good for this family." I smile as I come closer.

There are a few empty bottles of wine on the outdoor table and some fresh olives. God knows I'm full but I pop two into my mouth anyway. I'm an olive lover. Olives are one of those things that make my life better. People who don't like olives go down in my estimations immediately.  Actually I can't believe I never even found out if Jake was an olive lover or hater. Because yes, I could have dealt with the fact that he was some underworld drug kingpin if he'd liked olives.

"Oh its him Al, you know how he gets." Tash says, rolling her eyes. I smile and nod at her in agreement before turning to stick my tongue out at my brother.

"Only because your own argument is invalid and it kills you." He says lightly, calmly. Tash makes a growling noise and lifts a pillow from behind her and hits him with it.

"Alex why weren't you here to mediate? You're the sensible one." Greg asks, sounding bored.

"Becauseeeeee.." Tash drawls. "she was being romanced by the handsome French neighbour! Pierre... 'en chente.. Alex, est-ce que tu es aussi doux que tes yeux?" Her French is slurred and ridiculous but it makes me smile.

Nick smiles too but not too widely. The look he gives me is filled with some concern actually. Which I assume is because he saw me just after Jake, and although he doesn't know the entire story because no one does, he knows I'm probably not quite ready to be romanced just yet.

"It's Laurent actually," I correct. "Laurent Giresse. And he was very nice. Very French, but very nice. A television producer." I add, lifting my brows as I pop another olive in my mouth. Tash makes an 'ooooh' noise and turns her head to give wide eyes at Greg.

"So did you let him take you to bed and make mad passionate French love to you?" She asks, causing Nick to make a disgusted noise and squeeze his eyes shut.

"Tash please! She's our baby sister for christ sake I don't need the visual - shut up ." He groans. Tash laughs and sits up and looks around for another pillow I think.

"Well, I think that's my queue. I'm totally exhausted." I walk across to Tash and give her a tight hug and a kiss before moving toward Nick. "You know from all the passionate French lovemaking." I wink at Tash and she giggles loudly.

Nick groans again but I lean down to give him a hug and kiss on the head anyway.

"Night sis." He says, squeezing me tight.

"Night guys. Try and keep the political discussions for the daylight hours will you? My bedroom is right up there ," I point up to my room "and I need the window open to get any sleep in this heat."

"It's totally him Al, you know it." Tash shouts as I head through the house.

Once upstairs, I strip out of my dress and turn on the shower to lukewarm and step underneath. My body feels sticky from the heat, and my feet are covered in dust, the soles of my feet smattered with those miniscule pebbles that pin themselves to the soft flesh.  As I lean my head on the cool marble I allow myself to think about him.

I have to do that now - allot myself times when I allow thoughts of him to enter my head. The shower is where it's unavoidable, far too many Jake memories associated with the shower, same with the bath.  I also think about him when I'm at the sink in my kitchen, and in those moments before I drift off to sleep. And I think about him whenever I'm in London, when I hope and dread in equal measure that I'll see him somewhere.

Any other time though, thoughts of him are not permitted -  I berate myself if I break this rule. They're painful and tempting and I honestly don't understand or recognise my own mind in those moments. The moments where I think I could be with him despite what he is. That I could turn a blind eye to everything that he does and love him anyway because I have no other choice. Because I don't yet know how I'm going to live without him. Five weeks on and I'm still no further forward on that.

Tilting my head back under the spray, I rinse my hair and face and then turn off the shower and step out, ringing the water from my hair into the stall. Then I pad across the hard stone cold floor to my bed and climb in and under the sheet.  It's so warm here this summer, the warmest I can ever remember it being.

The house is old and antiquated, but mum and dad never wanted to wreck it by installing air conditioning so all I have is the huge noisy ceiling fan above my bed. Though it helps cool me a little, it keeps me awake too. Though it's not like I've been sleeping much anyway.

I turn onto my side and allow my thoughts wander to Laurent. Handsome French Laurent. He really has no idea what he's up against.  Who he's up against. The man who has my heart and mind and body. The man who broke into my life and stole all of it right out from under me.

Oh , who am I kidding, he didn't steal it - I handed it over to him more than willingly.

I hear a soft knock on the bedroom door and then it opens a crack Tash pops her head through, smiling.

"Hey." she says. "You're still awake."

She steps into the room and closes the door behind her. Then crosses toward me and plops herself down on the bed.   To make room I scoot over slightly and she moves up the bed and closer to me.

My sister is dark haired with a sprinkling of perfectly placed freckles and large brown eyes and looks more like Nick than me. She also turns a beautiful olive color in the sun - which Nick also does - giving her an almost Spanish look. She's completely stunning.  She's 5 years older than me but she doesn't look her age at all and I certainly never feel the gap when we're together.

"I feel like we've barely spoken since we got here." She says reaching down to brush my wet hair back off my forehead tenderly. I smile at her.  She's here to make sure I'm okay.   Nick.

"Yes we have. We've spent nearly a fortnight laughing at Nick's Bermuda shorts." I remind her.

"Oh god they are bloody awful though aren't they?" she covers her mouth to stifle a giggle.

I nod. "Christ, salmon is definitely not his colour.  I'm surprised he's still wearing them. Have to admire his tenacity."

Tash laughs harder.

"And his terrible fashion sense." She manages, before forcing herself to stop laughing. A serious look comes over her eyes. "I miss you so much do you know that? I feel like I've lost my best friend.  Come live with us?" she smiles, stroking her hand over my hair again. She's much more tactile under the influence of wine which I adore about her.

"Ugh I'd love to. Not much keeping me in the UK.  Well, apart from the rest of the family, and my job, oh and Fred. Nothing really."  I smile.

"Aw Fred. He's such a little grouch! How is he?"

"Grouchy. The neighbours have him just now.  Though I think he'll probably just stay there to be honest.  I've been much grouchier than him these days." I sigh, turning my head back to face the open window.   The white sheer curtain dances off the wall as the soft night breeze creeps into the room.

Tash says nothing more but when I look back round at her I find her studying me with a sorrowful smile. It makes me wonder if heartbreak is that obvious on the faces of those drowning in it.

"Tell me about him." She says. My heart flutters slightly with panic.

Tell her about him.

Tell my sister about Jake. Talk about him, out loud. I'm not sure I'm ready to do that, and what exactly could I tell her anyway without spilling all of his secrets? Also talking about him means thinking about him, and thinking about him is only allowed at specific times. Oh wait, this counts as a moment before I go to sleep. This is permitted.

I attempt a smile and shake my head. "I wouldn't even know where to start Tash, honestly. I'm trying so hard to forget about him, and to stop thinking about him because it's easier not to think about what I don't have anymore you know.  It's just...." That I want to think about him. I don't want to forget about him.  That's not what I want. I want him back. I need him back. I miss him. I love him.

I turn my head away from her again and close my eyes tight, to stop the run of tears that are hovering there. Tash puts a hand on my arm and squeezes softly but I only turn my head back when I'm sure I'm not going to cry.

"You can't just stop Alex. It doesn't work like that.  It just sort of fades away over time." She says.

Panic washes over me, sudden and suffocating. Jake fade away? God I don't want that either.   If I cant be with him then I still want the memory of him. The memory of his smile and his voice and his body as it breathed life into my own.

When I realise, I relax instantly: I will never forget him. He's impossible to forget about.

"Thats not going to happen either. Not with this one." I bite my lip hard and shake my head again.

The look that comes over my sister's face then is one of deep concern. "Christ Alex, What the hell happened?  Nick told me there was a guy and you were upset, but that you weren't seeing him very long.   I just assumed it wasn't serious, why didn't you tell me it was this serious?" She demands.

I was going to tell her. I was about to.  The very next day I was about to shout from the rooftops about how serious it was and about how much I loved him and about how he was everything. 

Then Mark came.

All of a sudden I feel breathless again. "You were in love with him."  she whispers, her eyes wide with the realisation. 

I bite harder on my lip and nod, and the tears spring back behind my eyes. Damn it. Damn them. Damn him. Damn me. 

"So what happened?  He hurt you?" she moves up the bed and places both hands over mine. Big sister stance. How can I fix this stance.  Tell me everything stance. That will never happen though. I can't ever tell anyone everything. She also can't fix this. No one can. 

Except maybe me. 

I shake my head. "I can't talk about it Tash, I'm sorry.   I'm ok.  I mean... I'll be ok. I just need to not think about him.  Or talk about him."

She looks sorry and sad and concerned all at the same time. Another sufferer of the Marlowe emotion myriad.

"I'm so sorry Alex.  I wish I'd been here for you when this happened. When Ben happened too. I'm shit," She shakes her head and looks down guiltily. "I'm a shit sister."

"You are so shit. How dare you move away with the man you love!" I hit her playfully on the arm and she lifts her head and smiles at me.  The smile doesn't reach her eyes though. "But seriously..." I take a deep breath and go on. "Ben was nothing compared to this... Ben was... a walk in the park compared to this. I feel like I'm going crazy. My brain never shuts down from thinking about it, about him. What if? Why? How? I honestly don't know what he did to me but it's like he's under my skin and in my bones and I swear I can still smell him everywhere I go." I shake my head again, and Tash purses her lips. "His scent is imprinted on my brain I think. Christ I sound crazy don't I? Jesus..."

She shifts closer and shakes her head. "No. Not crazy.  Just in love. So how about I sleep in here with you tonight and we can talk about guys all night.  You can tell me about every other guy except this one?" she bounces slightly on the bed, looking excited.  Doesn't she get it? There are no other guys except this one.  He's the only guy. 

I smile back. "No. You're the worst bedmate ever. You're a sprawler - never again. Those days are long gone.   No way.   Go to bed with your husband." I push at her to make her move. She resists for a moment and then her weight disappears.

"FINE. But we will talk about this at some point. I'm not getting on that plane home until I know you're ok." She hits me softly again and stands. "So what about our French friend next door? You like him?  Mum said he was 'very handsome'." she quirks a brow.

"He is very handsome, and very charming, and very French. He's a distraction though. Nothing more than that."

No one will ever be more than a distraction from Jake.

"Well, we all need distracting from something Alex." She says before leaning down to hug me tight. She smells of sun lotion and flowers - a smell that always reminds me of our holidays here - and I hold on to her tight for as long as it takes me to feel stronger.

"Well you can meet the handsome distraction yourself on Tuesday, I invited him over for dinner."

"Ooooh it is serious."

"Ugh. Hardly," I roll my eyes. "Now go make me a beautiful niece or nephew." I shout as she skips out the door. She looks back at me and throws me a cheeky wink over her shoulder.

As soon as Tash leaves I switch out the light and lie in the gradually cooling room and stare out the open window into the French night. From here I think I can just make out Laurent's favourite constellation, the little bear. If it even is his favourite. It's probably a line he uses to romance broken hearted English women. Oh so I'm back to being the cynical Alex I was prior to Jake. That's comforting.

***

Of course mum loves him. She's been laughing at his jokes all night and telling him how funny he is, and if I didn't know any better I'd swear she's flirting with him. My mother, in front of my father and her grown up children is flirting with a man half her age who was here because he wanted to bed her daughter.

Embarrassing really.

On closer inspection though, I don't think she's flirting with him for herself. She seems to be flirting on my behalf - on her single daughter's behalf. It's like she's trying to sell me to him by virtue of my every admirable quality. I'm basically in a Jane Austen novel.   And If it wasn't so sad and if I wasn't so sad then it would almost be funny.

I can see why she likes Laurent. He has an easy grace about him - he uses compliments naturally and smiles a lot and he has this thing of listening so hard when anyone is speaking that it gives the impression they're genuinely the most interesting person on the planet. All admirable qualities in a man.

Not being a drug dealing criminal is also an attractive quality.

I'd been growing more attracted to Laurent as the night had gone on and as we'd eaten and drunk and laughed. Though certainly, my growing attraction seemed to be in direct correlation to the amount of wine I'd consumed.

Well that and the fact that I'd had an extremely hot sex dream about him last night. It was so hot in fact, that when I saw him tonight I felt like a schoolgirl with a secret crush. We'd been on the dining table in his kitchen, the one where we'd had dinner the other night, and he'd lain me down on it and kissed his way down my body before slowly opening my legs and kissing his way up the inside of my thigh.  Yes, it was hot. 

"Oh Alex plays the piano." Mum exclaims suddenly, snapping me right out of my sex thoughts. "Alex darling, tell Laurent about how amazing you are." She says.

I turn to Laurent and smile. "Oh I'm amazing Laurent." I nod as I sip my wine. My brother chuckles and then Tash and Greg follow and mum rolls her eyes. Laurent however gives me a loaded smile, which causes a ripple of heat to wash over my body.  No more wine. 

"She is amazing." Mum tuts, turning her to me. "You are darling."

"Oh I know mum. I was agreeing with you."  She gives me a withering look and shakes her head, turning back to Laurent.

By my calculations I've had about two bottles of really good French white just by myself. Plus I fell asleep out in the sun all day, which is never a good thing for me. I was under the parasol in the shade but the temperature still affects my brain in the same way. I should have my own warning label that says that. In any case, Pale plus heat plus the desire to be inebriated and forget him, equals current state.

I need to drink some water. I reach over the table and pour myself a large glass from the pewter jug and sit back, knocking it back in a few long gulps. Water really is the best medicine on the planet, not in the homeopathy type of way as I didn't buy into that, but as in it did solve many a simple ailment.

When it's very late and there are at least 8 empty bottles of wine on the table, Laurent pushes his seat back and stands to leave.

"Well thank you for a lovely evening but I don't want to impose on your hospitality any longer." He says, sounding very much like a character from a Jane Austen novel in fact. "And, I think you may just have convinced me not to sell the 'ugly yellow house on the hill'. Although I may have it painted."

The table erupts into inebriated laughter and I stand - wobbling slightly - figuring that I should at least walk him out.

I grab a blanket from the chair by the door as Laurent says good-bye to everyone - waving politely at Tash, Greg and Nick who remain seated and wave back, but moving round the table to hug and kiss my mum and shake dad's hand.

When we're outside I realise immediately that the blanket was pointless, it's so warm tonight and there's the addition of a heavy opaque mugginess that gives the air a thick soupy quality.

Removing it from my shoulders, I dangle the blanket in front of me and we walk side by side around the house and up onto the grass towards the little brick wall that separates our house from his.

Laurent breaks the silence.  "So... the day after tomorrow you go home."

It's a statement rather than a question. He does that a lot I've noticed. States things like he's very confident that they're true. I like confidence in a man though.

Jake had that too, maybe too much at times but it grew on me.  The way he was so certain about things and the way he said things with confidence and power and strength.   Stop it.

I nod in the almost darkness. "I do, yes. My best friend is getting married on Saturday - I'm her head bridesmaid." I tell him for no particular reason.

He nods with a smile. "Well, I just found out I'll be in London in a few weeks from now. I can call you when I am in town - We can have dinner." Another statement.

"Dinner?" I turn to him and raise an eyebrow.

"Yes Alixx, dinner - and maybe some wine." We stop walking and he turns and reaches his hand up to my face.

This time, my body doesn't pull away from his touch like it did the last time he tried this. This time my body was co-operating. This time Laurent was working. "Okay and maybe more.  I'd still like to go to bed with you."  He says quietly before looking at his watch. "..and it looks like I am out of time here."

As his his thumb grazes my cheek I close my eyes and think about the sensation of his mouth on my inner thigh from my dream. His mouth felt nice inside the dream last night - more than nice.  I take a deep breath of the baked earth scented air around me and open my eyes and smile at him.

"You're not out of time yet." I whisper.

I feel mellow and relaxed and the closeness of a man after so many weeks without his touch is pleasurable.  Its preferable to being cold and alone too. It's what I need.  Maybe it's the only way I'll get over him.  You don't want to get over him, stop lying to yourself. Stop being a coward.

The side of his mouth lifts up and his gaze moves to my lips. Im the one who moves forward, leaning up on my tiptoes to press my mouth to his. As my lips touch his he pulls me into his body and moans softly against my tongue.

It happens fast then.  From me not him.

My body leans further into him and I drop the blanket and slide my arms up around his neck as the taste of him spreads across my tongue. I try and focus on what's happening right now and nothing else, no matter how hard my body fights me, or how hard my mind screams Jake's name at me.

Laurent is an exceptionally good kisser, confident and seductive and he moves his hands up to hold my head as his tongue strokes over my my own.  With his body he moves us backwards, and I take a few tentative steps until I feel the back of my legs hit the stone wall.

Moving his hands down my body to my behind, he lifts me up onto the wall and nudges my legs apart and steps in-between them. His hands are warm and sure and they travel up across the front of my dress, and across my breasts.

My mind is still screaming.

Jake! This isn't Jake! How would you feel if he were doing this same thing right now with another woman. He'd be perfectly right to do it too. Because you couldn't love him.  Because you're a coward. It's what you deserve.

Something tightens around my heart and I squeeze my eyes shut as Laurent continues to kiss me.  

He smells of clean linen and shampoo and my fingers dance across the thick dark lengths of his hair, hair which is far longer than his.    It should be him. Maybe if I imagine it's him..

I move my fingers down to the back of his neck which is soft and warm to the touch, but when I feel his hands travel up the inside of my thigh under my dress my body freezes.  Jake!

I can't fight the screaming voice anymore, so I decide not to. I decide to think of him and only him. 

Even though it's not an allotted time I allow myself to think about him and let him in. My body softens a little and I let out a soft breathy moan into his mouth. My brain is hot and foggy from wine and the idea that this is Jake and not Laurent seems wrong but it doesn't seem like something I can avoid even if I wanted to.   Which I don't.

His fingers are close, teasing me, stroking me, and grazing the outside of my underwear and I decide that I wont stop him if he goes to slide them inside.  I want him to touch me there, I need to feel something other than loss and need there.

As his mouth nibbles at my earlobe I feel my way down his body to the front of his trousers, and my hand finds something hard and warm through the soft rich linen. At my touch he growls quietly, like he would do, panting a little as I begin to move my hand across it.

"Alex...." He moans, the low tone making his accent more pronounced.

He needs to be quiet, not speak. It's easier to pretend when he doesn't speak. With my eyes closed I let my body enjoy the feel of his hands and his lips and the soft whisper of his tongue against my ear. Jake liked to kiss me there too.   This is Jake. As my hand curls around his length he curses in French and slides my underwear aside slightly.

"I want to feel myself inside you..." he pants against my mouth, his accent thick against my skin once more. My eyes fly open and my hand drops from him immediately.

What?

Those words.. Those words should make it easier to pretend but they don't. Those words only remind me of what I don't have and of who he isn't and of what I've lost.

I push at Laurent and he removes his hand and steps back out of my body, his bright blue eyes confused and lust filled as they gaze at me expectantly.

Like the words I don't want to hear from him, his eyes aren't the eyes I want on me either.   And as I look down at his hands, that also aren't those I want on me, I close my legs, feeling dirty and cheap and like I've betrayed him. Like I've betrayed the man I love.  Because I have. That's what I've done.

In fact it's what I've done since the moment I laid eyes on Laurent, but only now does the magnitude of that hit me.

What the hell am I doing?  I don't want this. I want him. I love him. I want to go to him and throw myself at his feet and beg his forgiveness. Not only for this but for everything.

But first I want to cry.    Pathetic. Stupid. Naive tears.

"I'm sorry... That shouldn't have happened. I shouldn't have let that happen..." I shake my head and slide down from the wall, brushing a hand through my hair and over my mouth.

"Non. You don't have to apologise Alex - you did nothing wrong." He states.   I look up and give him a small empty smile. Oh he knows nothing. How could he? I've done everything wrong. "But please tell me if I did Alex. Did I go too far, I'm sorry." He says, looking concerned now.

I shake my head as I feel the stupid pathetic inebriated tears well up behind my eyes. "No. You didn't... I did. I'm sorry, I led you on, I started it."   I shouldn't have been a cock tease. That's exactly what I'd been tonight.  The realisation that Jake was right about that only makes me feel worse. 

"No. You did not lead me on. Trust me, I wish that you had, but I am no victim here I assure you."

"Well, that's gentlemanly of you to say..." I say sarcastically.   "I should get back.  But I had a really pleasant evening in your company. Again. Thank you." Im embarrassed now and desperate to be away from him but as I go to move he stops me with a hand on my arm.

"I'd still like to see you in London." He says. 

He does?

What the hell do I say to that now?   I look down at my fingers, but then I remember that they were caressing his erection a moment ago and I feel the burn of shame wash over me again. It seems like a long time before he breaks the silence.

"You are very much in love with this man who is not important. Who you barely knew." He states, his tone is soft.  When I look up at him his expression is soft too.

"Yes... well.. I may have lied about that."

He smiles and nods. "About which part?"

"About all of it. I often lie to myself where he's concerned."  The ironic truth.   I lied to myself over and over again that I didn't know who he was.   Then I lied to us both when I said I couldn't love him.

"Love makes us do things that seem unnatural to us. The Ancient Greeks were the first to call love a type of insanity." He says.

I smile bitterly.  "Yes, well I agree with that entirely."

He steps close to me again and places his hand on my arm, in a comforting way this time, brotherly almost. "I don't know what happened to you with this man, but you are conflicted though about what I don't know." He says.   I say nothing and Laurent takes a deep breath and smiles.   "You are a beautiful woman Alex. You deserve someone to worship you and protect you, and someone who would never intentionally cause you pain."

"We all deserve that Laurent, I'm no exception."

He nods and runs his tongue across his bottom lip again. "Maybe." He nods. "But I hope he deserved and was worthy of you."

As the silence settles over us again I think about what he just said.   Someone who'll worship me and protect me and who would never intentionally cause me pain...

Those are all things that describe Jake. He'd always treated me like something precious that needed to be treasured. I know he would never let anything or anyone hurt me - he told me that.  I'll always protect the things I love Alex, and that includes you.    And I know he never wanted to hurt me, not intentionally.   He lied and hid from me because he didn't want to hurt me.

Of course I know there's a possibility I'm clinging to Laurent's words simply because they fit and they sound good and because they excuse so many other things.  But that didn't stop them bring true. He was worthy. Who he was when he was with me was the man I loved, and that man was more than worthy.

Distracted, I move in and give  Laurent a soft peck on one cheek and then the other.

"Goodnight Laurent.  Thanks for your words." I say. "Dinner when you are in London would be nice, I really do enjoy your company.  But it would be purely dinner & wine - it's all I can offer you.  You have my number if it is enough.."  I tell him.    He sighs but I can't tell if it's one of disappointment or not.

"I do have your number. I enjoy your company also. Thank you again for inviting me tonight. You have a very nice family Alex, a loving family - It was enjoyable to be around." A look of something sad flickers over his face before it's gone and he smiles again. "I'll call you in a few weeks. Hopefully you wont be so.. conflicted."

I smile.  I hope so too. "Goodnight Laurent."

I turn away from him and start down the path to the house.
Though the remnants of guilt are still trickling down my spine and my hands still feel a little hot from the shame, I decide it could have been worse.

Now I know.   I can't be with anyone else.  I don't want to be with anyone else. 

What it means for Jake and I I'm not sure yet, but there it is and it feels as though maybe all isn't quite as lost as it once was. And to evidence it, right there at the bottom of the dark bottomless pit that is my heartache there's now a bright little flare of hope.