When Robert reached the women, May asked, "Do you have everything?" Even though she was smiling, Robert could see a tension in her eyes that hadn't been there before. She knew something was going on between him and Georgie.

"Yeah," he said, feeling uncomfortable.

"Okay," she said, quickly glancing at Georgie before she turned and began to lead the way out of baggage claim, still holding her hand.

When Robert followed them, Marianne dropped back to walk alongside him. She asked him about his flights, how jet lagged he felt, and other general travel questions. While he answered her, he tried to ignore how quiet Georgie and May were. By time they'd reached the car, the travel chat had been exhausted. He put his suitcase in the boot and climbed in the back seat. Georgie got in the back seat as well. He looked out the window to avoid looking at her, but also to get his first proper look at the States.

It was jarring at first to be riding in a car where May, who was driving, was sitting on the left side instead of the right, and to be traveling on the wrong side of the road but it helped take his mind off the awkward tension between him and Georgie. Once they were on the motorway, there was quite a bit of traffic but they moved along at a fast rate of speed. May and Marianne spoke quietly to each other a few times, but other than that it was silent in the car.

It was a surprisingly short trip and it wasn't long they were driving through a neighborhood of nearly identical box-like one story homes. Robert was surprised how small they were, he'd always thought American homes were large. May parked the car inside a small garage next to one of the homes, and once Robert had his suitcase, they walked into the house through the back door, entering the kitchen.

With all four of them standing there, it seemed uncomfortably small. He looked around to avoid looking at Georgie who was standing next to him. It was a cheery room, painted a sunny yellow. By the looks of cabinets and countertops, Robert thought it probably hadn't been updated since the home had been built several decades ago. There was a small eating area which was dominated by an old green Formica and stainless steel kitchen table and four matching green vinyl and stainless steel chairs.

"Are you hungry, Robert?" May asked with a warm smile.

"I am, yeah," he replied gratefully. Even though he hadn't had much of an appetite for the last week, he was starting to feel the effects of not eating anything since the dinner he'd been served during his overnight flight from London.

"Good! We hoped you might be. Georgie, why you don't show Robert around and help him get settled while we start cooking supper," she suggested gently. Robert made eye contact with Georgie, then quickly looked away from her sad eyes.

"Um, okay," Georgie said quietly. She left the kitchen and Robert followed while May and Marianne began getting things out of the fridge.

They walked into a small sitting room and Georgie said quietly, "This is the living room," while motioning with her hand in a vague way. She waited while he looked around.

When Robert realized this small room was the main living space, he thought the house almost seemed smaller on the inside than it looked on the outside. There was a couch and a recliner against one wall facing a cabinet with small flat screen TV sitting on it. An upright piano was against another wall. He went to the piano, but resisted the urge to touch the keys. A quick scan of the books stacked on top let him know Georgie wasn't the only one who played. He saw some familiar titles but it was mostly older books, some classical music but mainly the scores of old musicals.

The room wasn't spare, but it was clear to Robert that home decorating wasn't something May put a lot of effort into. Except for some antique photos that Robert guessed were ancestors of May, the only other decoration on the walls was a generic landscape hanging behind the couch. Off the sitting room was a short hallway leading to the bedrooms and a bathroom.

Georgie quietly explained the largest bedroom was May and Marianne's while she led him to the smallest bedroom which had been made into an office. Robert looked around the tiny room. There was a desk with a sewing machine on it. A table was next to the desk, covered with cut pieces of brightly colored fabric. A bookcase was filled with books and more fabric, folded and neatly stacked.

"Marianne does quilting," Georgie said in a quiet, subdued voice when she saw where he was looking. He nodded without looking at her.

Then Georgie showed him the small bathroom. Like the kitchen, it looked as though it hadn't been updated since the home was originally built. It was charming in its own way with pale blue and white tiles on the floor and on the walls above a pale blue bathtub. The toilet and single sink were the same pale blue as the tub. She pointed out the small cupboard where he could find towels, all of them in shades of blue.

The next largest bedroom was Georgie's room. It may have been a guest room at one time but unlike the rest of the home, it was obvious May had made the effort to decorate it for Georgie. Robert was practically assaulted by the color pink as soon as he walked in the room. The walls were covered in a wall paper with large pink roses printed on it and some of the furniture had been painted pink.

He thought he saw evidence of Marianne's sewing skills with the pink floral frilly curtains that framed the window. The same floral print fabric was used in the quilt and mound of decorative pillows that covered Georgie's large bed. Once Robert's eyes rested on the bed, he couldn't stop staring at it. He realized with a sinking feeling, this was the only bed available for the two of them to sleep in.

While Georgie was pointing out the drawer in the painted pink chest she'd emptied for his clothes, he interrupted her, saying "Uh, Georgie?"

"Yes, Robert?" she said, turning toward him.

"I'll kip on the couch, yeah?" he said, finally tearing his eyes away from the bed to look at her. He saw a look of pain cross her face before she dropped her eyes.

"I'm sorry Robert," she said quietly. "I should've been more clear. I'm sleeping on the couch. You get this room to yourself."

"Oh," he said, feeling instantly relieved, and then guilty. "I don't want to take your bed. You should sleep here and I'll take the couch, yeah?"

"No, Robert. I'm sure," she said firmly, looking at him with sad eyes. "You sleep in here and I sleep on the couch."

"Alright," he said, quickly looking away.

"Well, I guess - I'll let you unpack," she said quietly, turning away from him. "I should see if May and Marianne need help in the kitchen."

"Alright," he said to the floor.

When he was finally alone with the door closed, he collapsed on the edge of Georgie's bed, avoiding the mound of pink floral pillows and slumped over, putting his head in his hands as despair washed over him.

What the fuck was he doing here? Why had he allowed Georgie to guilt him into this? Even if had made that fucking promise to her, he should've refused. The tension between them was almost unbearable. And it was clear she was just as miserable as he was. How the hell was he going to make it through next two weeks? He sighed deeply. He didn't have any other fucking choice, did he? All he could do was try to get through it as best he could.

With another deep sigh, he got up, put his suitcase on Georgie's bed and opened it. When he took an armful of clothes over to the painted pink chest of drawers, he noticed a few small framed photographs sitting on it for the first time. He picked up one and examined it more closely.

It showed a pretty young woman with pale skin and vivid blue eyes holding a little girl who looked to be about three or four years old. The little girl had her arms wrapped around the woman's neck and their cheeks were pressed together as they looked into the camera. The little girl had the same pale skin and vivid blue eyes as her mum, but instead of the same straight light brown hair, she had thick dark brown wavy hair that fell just past her shoulders.

Georgie's mum looked eerily similar to her, but there were subtle differences other than their hair. Her face was thinner than Georgie's, but they shared the same pointed chin. The bridge of her nose was a little less broad and her lips were fuller. But the thing that struck Robert the most was the expression on her face. She was practically glowing as she looked into the camera with soft eyes. How many times had Georgie looked at him with that exact same expression?

He knew the second picture he picked up had to be of Georgie and her sister, Frankie. They were quite young, wearing matching red plaid nightgowns with white lace trim and sitting side by side on the floor in front of a Christmas tree. This was Robert's first look at Frankie. She was a pretty little girl with darker skin, large brown eyes with long lashes, and long straight light brown hair. Georgie's dark wavy hair was longer than in the first picture, hanging down the front of her nightgown and framing her sweet young face. While Frankie was looking into the camera calmly with a serene smile, Georgie was wearing a mischievous grin, no doubt because she'd managed to get her hand behind her sister's head undetected so she could make bunny ears for the camera.

A third picture was of Georgie and her dad. He was a handsome bloke, obviously Italian with darker skin, brown eyes, and thick wavy dark brown hair combed up off his forehead. Robert could see Georgie's thicker eyebrows, wider nose, and more rounded face came from her dad. He was smiling proudly, with one hand on Georgie's shoulder and the other hand holding a football.

Georgie was older, perhaps around eight or nine, dressed in an orange football jersey, navy blue shorts, orange knee socks over shin guards, and black cleats. Robert was shocked. He'd had no idea Georgie played football when she was younger. Her dark brown hair was in two tight braids hanging down the front of her jersey. She'd obviously just finished playing because she had dirt and grass stains on her pale arms and legs, and a big smudge on her jaw. It must've been a good match, she was grinning like mad.

The fourth picture was a little larger than the others. It was taken outside and showed the entire family. They must have been attending some kind of formal occasion, perhaps a wedding. Georgie's dad was wearing a suit and her mum and both girls were wearing dresses. Robert thought it might've been taken not long before the accident.

Frankie had grown from a pretty little girl into a stunning young teen. She seemed to have inherited the combination from their parents that Georgie hadn't. Fuller lips, narrower nose, and straight light brown hair from their mother, and olive skin and large brown eyes from their father. Robert could tell she would have been tall like Georgie, she was already nearly as tall as their mum in the picture. Georgie's dark wavy hair was long and loose, framing her sweet pale face. Her vivid blue eyes were happy and she was grinning into the camera as though she'd just heard a joke.

Then he noticed a fifth picture behind the other four but turned round facing away from him. When he picked it up he saw a large group of girls, all wearing pajamas and squeezed together on a couch. He recognized the sitting room immediately because of the picture on the wall behind it. This was May's couch. There were eight girls altogether, some sitting on the other's laps, some on the arms of the couch, laughing and smiling as they crowded together.

Georgie was easy to pick out of the group because of her long dark brown wavy hair. She was sitting on another girl's lap and it looked like the girl was tickling her. She was leaning forward a little and laughing, the braces on her teeth showing. Robert knew this picture had to have been taken around the time of her passport photos, just before she'd lost her freedom. She would have been between thirteen and fourteen years old.

Robert felt a profound sadness seeing the pictures. The loving family she'd lost in a tragic accident, the good friends and happy life that had been ripped from her. He thought of the life she was living when he met her seven months ago, imprisoned in the flat, all alone in the oppressive silence with the endless cleaning and the sick, controlling bastard who got off abusing her. He tried to push the thoughts out of his head as he put the pictures back the way he'd found them, swallowing against the pain in his throat.

He put his clothes away in the drawer, then took the gifts his mum had him bring out of the suitcase and threw them on the bed. He zipped the suitcase closed and put it in the small closet, trying not to smell Georgie on the clothes. There was a knock on the door and he answered it, relieved it was Marianne.

"Supper will be in a few minutes and we thought you'd like to wash up first," she said, looking up at him with a warm smile.

"Alright, cheers," he said, smiling back. He noticed she'd said 'warsh' instead of 'wash' in her rich accent. He couldn't help wondering why Georgie didn't have the same accent as the two older women since they all came from the same part of the country.

He washed his face and hands in the small bathroom sink. While he was drying his face with a hand towel, he looked at himself in the mirror. He could see the tension in his brown eyes. He wasn't looking forward to dinner. It was going to be awkward as hell sitting at the same table as Georgie. He steeled himself before he left the bathroom.

When he joined the women in the kitchen, May and Marianne were busy putting food on the table and Georgie was pouring a glass of milk for him. There was a platter of homemade fried chicken, bowls of mashed potatoes, buttered green beans and a plate piled high with bread rolls. The food looked and smelled delicious, and he was grateful he was suddenly more hungry than nervous.

May encouraged him to sit and soon everyone was settled around the table, Georgie sitting opposite him. While they ate, May and Marianne kept up a steady stream of conversation, asking him a lot of questions about his family and life back home. It made it easier for him, since he'd never been good at chatting with people he didn't know well. And it helped cover how quiet Georgie was being.

She spent the meal slumped in her seat with her eyes on her plate, mostly pushing her food around instead of eating it. At one point, when Marianne was asking him which university he hoped to attend, he heard May quietly urging Georgie to eat. Even though he didn't try to watch her, he knew she only ate a few more bites.

When they were finished with their dessert of homemade apple pie, the two ladies insisted on doing all the clean up and urged Robert and Georgie to leave the kitchen, much to Robert's dismay. He'd much prefer doing dishes with them than be left alone with Georgie. The two of them wandered into the sitting room and stood awkwardly in silence, avoiding looking at each other. Then it suddenly hit him how tired he was. He hadn't been sleeping well for the last several days and hadn't slept at all during his two flights. Even though it was early evening in Chicago, it was quite late back home.

Just as he started to say, "I think I'll -," Georgie said, "Do you want -." They both stopped at the same time.

"What, Robert?" she asked quietly, looking at him with sad eyes.

"Oh, uh - I reckon I'll be off to bed now," he said, quickly looking away.

"Oh, right. It's nearly one o'clock for you." He didn't know why it irritated him she knew that.

"Right. Well, uh, see you tomorrow," he muttered to the floor.

"Night, Robert," she said quietly.

"Uh, yeah."

He walked into Georgie's pink bedroom and closed the door with relief. Then he saw the gifts he'd brought still lying on her bed. Shit. Why did his mum make him bring all that stuff? He sighed deeply as he gathered everything up to take to the women. When he walked back into the sitting room, it was empty.

He was almost in the kitchen when he heard May ask, "How are you doing, sweetie?" with deep concern in her voice.

"Um, I'm okay," Georgie replied with her voice breaking.

Not wanting the conversation to go any further, Robert quickly stepped through the doorway to the kitchen, but he wasn't quick enough. Georgie had her back to him and was saying, "He's just so -," when May noticed him. Her eyes widened and she said loudly, "Hello, Robert," obviously wanting to stop Georgie before she spoke further. Robert had no choice but to step into the kitchen. Georgie walked away from him, quickly wiping her eyes.

"Uh, my mum got some things for you," he said to May and Marianne, trying to pretend as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

He gave them the British linens, sweets and biscuits his mum had bought for them. They seemed genuinely touched and appreciative, asking him to pass on their thanks. He was still holding two wrapped presents for Georgie, but she was standing at the sink with her back to him.

"Uh, Georgie?"

"Yes?" she said tremulously, finally turning around and he quickly dropped his eyes. She looked like she was trying not to cry.

"My mum wanted me to give these to you," he mumbled to the floor, holding out the presents.

"Really?" she asked with sadness and wonder in her voice, as if she couldn't believe it. She slowly walked over to him and took them from him. He kept his eyes on the floor waiting for her to say something but she just stood there holding them.

"Why don't you open them, Georgie," May encouraged gently after a moment of awkward silence.

"Um, okay," she said with her voice breaking.

Robert already knew his mum had knitted a beret and matching mittens for her in fluffy pale pink yarn. When she opened them, May and Marianne exclaimed how nice they were but Georgie was quiet.

After another awkward moment of silence, she said quietly, "I love them," and quickly wiped her eyes. "Please tell your mom 'thank you' for me."

"Uh, yeah. Well, I'm off to bed. Good night," he said quickly to May and Marianne, anxious to escape. The two older women bid him good night while Georgie said nothing, continuing to look down at the mittens and beret in her hands.

Once Robert was in Georgie's bedroom, he slumped against the closed door with relief. Then he made himself get ready for bed, putting on a pair of boxers and a clean t-shirt. He gathered up the pile of pink pillows from Georgie's bed and threw them on a dressing table. He climbed in the bed, laid on his back and pulled the pink floral quilt over him.

He put the crook of his arm over his eyes, and sighed deeply as desolation overwhelmed him. He should never have come, he thought again with despair. It was like fucking torture being around her. And he had two whole weeks of this to look forward to.

He rolled over, pulling the quilt over his head and concentrated on his breathing so he could turn off his mind. Thankfully, he was so exhausted it wasn't long before he fell into a deep sleep.

****

As you can already see, these two weeks are not going to be an easy time for either Robert or Georgie as they're finally forced to deal with the fallout of what's happened between them. Also, having Robert in Georgie's 'home' for the first time is going to make things a lot more interesting. I hope you liked this chapter! I would love to hear your thoughts so far. And please consider supporting this chapter with a vote.

On a personal note, I live not far from Chicago, just a few hours drive. It's one of my very favorite cities which is probably why I chose it as Georgie's hometown. I spent a fair amount of time there growing up because I had an aunt who lived in the city. Her studio apartment is the one Georgie describes in Chapter 21 of Stolen Hearts. That's also the same chapter where Georgie makes Robert promise he'll visit Chicago. Maybe I shouldn't admit this but when I wrote that chapter, I didn't know Georgie was going to leave Robert, or that the promise was going to be such a big help to me in furthering the plot!