Daniel's House. Orlando, Florida.

'The water isn't as cold as it was last night,' Rebecca judges, hands splayed across the simmering surface of the river, beating the water about her giddily. She waddles through, searching her memories for swimming lessons her father taught her when she was eight. Swimming has never been her favorite hobby and even now, it isn't but her father loved it, and fishing. He used to say if he hadn't been born into a family that deals in industrialization, he would've been a fisherman or a swimming athlete to which her mother always made a point to display her disapproval and disgust.

Between her and Fergal, it's her brother who shared their father's passions. But after he passed away, her brother had forsaken all of it and even his dreams, for the company and to ensure their family maintain their glorious status in the stock market. If ever her brother has accepted his forced role in this life or not, she doesn't know. But she does know their once upon a time happy family, ever since their father died, has been reduced to a hollow shell of its former self.

Shaking her head against the memories, she swims on until she's in the middle of the river before plunging in, arms and head sinking into the cool sensation of the water. 'Water is every person's friend,' her father used to tell her whenever she'll make a face about swimming and complain to her brother about how boring it is. They'd tease her and claim she's still a baby for being scared of the same water she drinks and baths with. Their little antics always annoys her to the point where she'll stomp off, angry. But her father always managed to appease her; whether it's sneaking into her room at nights to give her mint chocolates in secrecy to avoid her mother giving both of them lengthy lectures in the morning about diets and healthy living, or just simple words of affection of how she'll always be his little princess.

She misses him more than words can say. It doesn't matter how much time has passed since his death. Her father is always in her thoughts, day and night and it's particularly in times like these she wish he's still alive. Her life has once again spiraled into the messy web of love but this time, it's her desires against reality. The only thing keeping her worries from swallowing her up is the water which also provide a refreshing respite from the scorching blaze of the sun above. 'A friend indeed.'

Rising up to the surface, she cups a handful of the water and begins cleaning the dirt and sweat that has clung to her body from the night before. She runs her hands through her hair next, pulling away leaves and finding knots. With all the tugging and tossing around last night, she's surprised there isn't that many knots tangled up in her hair. She makes quick work of them, pulls them free and splashes water onto her back and the nape of her neck, fingers brushing over the red marks Colby had left there, wincing at the little pain each cause. The dull ache between her legs is a different story but it's nothing she can't handle.

'Her first time was much worse,' she tells herself, swimming to the bank of the river, her eyes glued to Colby lying on his stomach at the shore. He's naked, save for the blanket she'd used to cover him around his middle, arms and legs sprawled lazily on the soft grass. Despite the sun shinning brightly at where he sleeps, it's rays casting flickers of golden light on his brown skin, he's still deep into sleep. He's everything attractive and glorious in this world, gleaming like a forbidden fruit on a tree. She guess he must indeed be forbidden in a way. For he doesn't belong to her.

He doesn't belong to her in the way she'd like him to. His heart—the one thing she wants more than his body—belongs to someone else. It belongs to Mercedes; to the woman who made him cry last night, the woman he claims has caused him several heartaches. He still cares enough to cry over her and even if he doesn't admit it, it's pretty obvious he longs for things to be different with her. And she understands.

She'd been in a similar situation with Jeff. That man broke her heart, left her standing like a fool at the church in front of hundreds of guests and inquisitive journalists; in her white bridal dress with tears and makeup smeared on her face. Jeff hadn't only left her with a shattered heart but also with a tarnished image. For months she'd been the talk of gossip shows and entertainment sites, a laughing stock of the entire city and when he sent her a wedding invitation card, when she should've thrown it out of her car and moved on with her life, she'd driven to the wedding avenue. The plan was to ruin the wedding, shout to the world how much of a lying bastard he is and slap him, maybe twice or thrice. But her brilliant plan collapsed the moment she saw him and all she'd done was make an even more embarrassing scene of herself. She begged the man who left her for another woman to come back to her.

That might have been love or maybe not? Looking back at her life and the feeling she once called love, it seems more of stupidity than the wonderful feeling called love. It made her blind, desperate and foolish and she swore the moment she slid the shard of mirror across her wrist, that if she ever comes back in another or survives in this lifetime, she never want to experience it again. But she failed. She has failed miserably. She has fallen. She's fallen for a man who loves another woman. 'Why ever in all the sense of the world did she think it was okay last night?'

She can't very well decide yet if last night is a mistake. It certainly isn't in the general sense. After all, people have sex all the time and one night flings are more common in this day and era than ever before. And it isn't like Colby and her are complete strangers who met at a club, decided they are both horny so they'll fuck. Whatever occurred last night is completely right in the sense that they are both man and woman, clouded by wine and loneliness, both needing some sort of intimate companionship. Accepting last night is a mistake is hard; much harder than when her mother was teaching her how to eat with chopsticks. 'How can something so wonderful and special be a mistake?'

She still remembers the heady kisses and frantic touches, the feel of his hard body in her arms. They stand vividly in her mind in all their vibrant colours and relevancy, as if they happened just a few hours ago. They still make her toes curl beneath the water, cause her heart to race as if she's ran a marathon. But it isn't just the sex. It's so much more than that. It's him. It's Colby.

He's the one affecting her like this. He's confusing her, making her wish for things which are well beyond her reach. He's broken through her walls in just a day. She has forsaken all of her rules for him. He made every right and wrong in the world seem irrelevant to her last night. She has become attached to him now more than ever, so much so that she couldn't even bring herself to leave his arms when she woke up this morning. The comfort and security she'd felt in his arms were enthralling, a kind of serene peace and happiness she assumed she wouldn't feel ever again. The assumption there's someone there to love, care and protect her is something she feels when she's with him but he doesn't feel the same way. He doesn't, so what's the point of nurturing and growing all these emotions when the other person doesn't feel the same way?

She has to forget him and whatever happened last night. Their time here; in their seemingly endless paradise, ends today after they say their goodbyes and go on their separate ways. She wants to know so much more about him; she even wishes she knew where he lives. She never bothered to ask all this time they were together but where ever that place may be, it certainly isn't Los Angeles. Her twisted, wicked fate won't let it be so. She has allowed her emotions to get too carried away. 'She gets attached too quickly and she's going to pay the price for it.'

Stepping out of the river and onto the grassland, body soaking wet, she searches for her green dress which Colby had ripped apart the night before. She finds it among the trees as expected. She hadn't cared last night; she wasn't even thinking straight when she told him to tear it, but now looking at the empty holes the buttons of the dress used to be and the large tear at the front, she mourns the fate of her dress just like she mourns her own fate. They are both tattered beyond repair. The dress though is useless for wearing so brushing the dirt off it, she folds it up neatly and then uses it to wipe the droplets of water off her body. She hums softly along with the chirping of the birds, the only sounds which can be heard in her surroundings apart from Colby's gentle snoring. Finding a clean patch of grassland near where he sleeps, she sits cross-legged, squeezing water out of her hair.

She gazes at his face all the while, carving the memory of it in her mind so she won't forget him but a large part of her knows forgetting him is a near impossibility. He has become too important, too beautiful, too much of a vital part of some of her recent best memories for him to be forgotten so easily. He'll never be forgotten, and unlike Jeff, Colby will be remembered for all the smiles and passion he brought back into her life.

Her eyes are still on him when he starts to stir, a small yawn escaping his lips as his eyelashes flutters open. She laughs a little at the ridiculous look which drapes his face as his eyes tries to adjust to the sunlight. When he turns to his side, his gaze settles at her sitting at his feet. He looks at her up and down and Rebecca instinctively closes her legs. He doesn't make a remark about him seeing everything there's to see already but then again she thinks he's probably going to ask her what happened last night. "I never knew one can meditate naked. You're full of surprises, Rebecca."

'There goes the compliments and sweet talk,' her traitorous heart warms. 'At least he seems to recall what happened last night.' But that's a small comfort. "I've never meditated in my life." As a matter of fact, she has. Numerous times if truth be told with her brother and father. It's the only thing she misses doing with her brother. She won't tell him that though. The time for jokes and flattery is over. She wipes the water off her faster, eager to leave. "I'd taken a quick bath in the river and thought of towelling myself with what little is left of the green dress you destroyed."

"Nope. You told me to tear it and I simply followed your orders," he shakes his head on the grass, flashing her a crooked grin. "You and your habit of blaming anything and everything on me."

She rolls her eyes at his playfulness. He doesn't seem to notice her brooding mood. She shrugs nonchalantly, "Whatever you say Colby. You should probably take a bath too. It's time we head back to the house."

He slowly sits up and stretches his arms. His puffy hair makes him look weird and strange, as strange as the nervousness that curls inside her belly when his eyes starts to roam over her body, brown eyes shining. She keeps herself from feeling any sort of hope and elation at the longing she sees in his eyes. He wants her. That much is quite palpable, but what man won't lust after a naked woman in his presence? Colby is a man after all and as they say, 'men have needs.' "I thought you'll be gone by the time I wake up," he says abruptly, gaze bashful as if he's confessing one of his darkest secrets. "You didn't leave."

"I couldn't leave." She'd contemplated it when she woke up but combined with not having anything to wear apart from maybe the shirt he was wearing last night, and not wanting to deal with questions from him about why she left and other things, she decided to stay. She guess the fears were mutual for she was afraid he'd leave too if he woke up first. Would he? It doesn't look like it. Colby isn't the coward type. "My dress isn't exactly appropriate and mostly though, I don't want to face Daniel alone. It will be kind of embarrassing."

He chuckles, "I'm sure Daniel knew what we were up to when we didn't come back to the house last night. You can have my shirt by the way." He scoots closer to her with a thirsty look in his eyes. She pauses toweling herself, posture rigid and body frozen in place. His warm hand settles on her cold thigh before it wanders up to her waist, gripping her there tightly and leaving a hot trail wherever his hand touches. He cups her cheek delicately, "After we talk."

"Is this your idea of talking?" She asks, her breathing growing heavier as his mouth draws nearer to her lips. Her mind is already foggy, her shield crumbling.

"Not really. But why not," he inquires with a hesitant smirk, as hesitant as the hand cupping her cheek. He holds her gaze, searching her eyes for some sort of confirmation. She doesn't give him any. She can't see her face but the puzzlement on it must be severe for he leans back, regarding her with concern. "Rebecca, what's wrong?"

This isn't how she'd envisioned her morning to go. She'd expected him to wake up, tell her it was a mistake that happened because they were both drunk and apologize for it. But this? Wanting to sleep with her again? What does he think of her? "I can't. We can't."

His grip wavers on her waist but he suddenly tightens it, as if afraid to let go of her. "What are you talking about?"

She tosses the green dress aside in frustration. "What. . . . what do you want Colby? What is it you want from me?"

His perplexed expression unnerves her. He looks confused, speechless. But she knows. He wants sex. Of course that's what he want. He must be thinking; 'last night was wonderful. I'd so many orgasms and I want many more. Rebecca is here, so why not?' It's just sex for him but the sex meant so much more to her than finding pleasure. She'd given herself, not just her body but her heart and soul, everything she has to him but he doesn't know. Doesn't realize it. If he did, he wouldn't be so dumbfounded right now. The notion alone infuriates and saddens her. "Rebecca I. . . . we. . . . I know we've to talk about last night—"

"You don't have to say anything to justify last night, Colby. It was consensual," she gently pries his hands off her and clambers to her feet, suddenly feeling dizzy. "If you're concerned about the implications, don't fret. I'm on birth control," she finds his shirt caught among the trees, still clean enough for her to wear. She shrugs into it quickly. It barely reaches her knees but compared with her torn dress, the shirt is more than appropriate.

He's silent for a moment and although her eyes are cast down to stare at the grass while she brushes tiny leaves off the hem of the shirt, she can still see his hands twitching nervously at his sides. "Rebecca, I really don't want things to be awkward between us and—"

"It's fine," she cuts him off and blanches, realizing she isn't letting him speak. She wonders if she's being hasty and presumptuous. "No explanations needed. Like I stated, it was consensual. People have one nightstands all the time anyway."

His shoulders sages in. . . . disappointment? She can't quite tell. "Is that how you saw it? A one nightstand?"

The whisper with which he says the last words fills her with sadness, as if she's committing a crime and dismissing his feelings about how he really felt about last night. 'What she wouldn't give to know what he's thinking right now.' Since she can't read his thoughts, she'll continue to assume with her mind and right now her mind is telling her to guard what little is left of her heart. "Why," she asks coolly, "am I supposed to think of it any differently?"

His head cocks back as if assessing something in his head but it's obvious by the expression on his face that he has nothing to say. "Ah, well. I'll head back to the house. As you said, Daniel knows whatever we were doing last night so I think that fix the embarrassment part," she takes the empty bottle of wine and opener from the grass in a frenzy before giving him a forced smile. He looks like he wants to say something—what she doesn't know—but she's certain it's something that will probably end up hurting her. So she takes off through the trees, leaving him behind at the river.

'What I am doing is right,' she chants in her head as she enters the house, pausing to greet Daniel and place the empty bottle of wine in the trash bin and the wine opener on the kitchen counter. Daniel doesn't ask any questions nor look up at her from his bacon frying in the pan, so she diligently turns away with her burning face and heads to the room for a quick shower. Colby enters the house when she's done, scrutinizing her for a moment before dashing to the room. Rebecca sits at the table with Daniel for breakfast, dressed in the tight leggings and tank top she'd worn on the night Colby and her became friends, with her damp curls of hair cascading down her back. She apologizes to Daniel for her failure to bring back his daughter's green dress, fabricating a story of how she suspects a coyote may have taken it when Colby and her were taking a swim in the river. But as usual the old man brushes it off as nothing, a little knowing smile spread across his face.

Daniel reminds her so much of her father. Even Colby does too. That's why they were all able to get along so well when she finally stopped whining about her problems. With Colby, a bit too much of getting along. From somewhat enemies, to friends, to lovers in the same week. 'Can anything else get so messy?'

Ashley calls shortly after Colby sits down at the breakfast table in a navy blue shirt with white pants, his damp hair tied into a man-bun. Her friend informs her they are a few hours away from reaching Orlando and it will probably be suitable for them to meet at one of the bus stations so they can find her easily. Rebecca agrees. The prospect of seeing her friend again fills her with excitement and not even the sidelong glances from Colby can dampen her mood.

"The friend brought the ticket this morning. Thank goodness for that," Daniel says, handing them to Colby. "The bus to Los Angeles will be leaving tonight. And here is your wallet. The notes are a bit hard but it will do."

The cup of coffee in Rebecca's hands suddenly feels cold, the rim of the cup pausing at her lips. 'He's going to Los Angeles? Why didn't he tell her before?' Her gaze abruptly swerves to him sitting across from her and at the same time his eyes meets hers. She holds his gaze for a minute, jaw working but no words spurring out of her mouth. In the end, she gives up, returning her attention to the bacon on her plate as she drinks her cup of coffee.

She keeps her questions to herself throughout breakfast. She feels his eyes on her every now and then but she doesn't look at him again lest the questions she has for him blurts out of her mouth this time. Since she has nothing to pack, Rebecca only takes a bottle of water from the fridge and two apples, already biting into one the moment she stepped outside. Before she can open the door of the van, Colby is already at her side, sliding it open for her.

"Can I have an apple," he whispers to her, standing too close for her to breathe. Daniel is still in the house and now would be the time for her to ask him why he didn't tell her he was going to Los Angeles. But she doesn't. She feels angry and betrayed he didn't tell her. Perhaps he didn't want her to know he was going to Los Angeles. Perhaps he felt it wasn't that important at the time or it's just that she wasn't important enough for him to care whether he sees her again or not after they depart. Whatever the reason is, she still feels angry about it. She'd even mentioned Los Angeles once or twice in the conversation with Ashley yet he didn't tell her. He isn't obliged to but still. . . .

She gingerly steps inside the van and without a word, throws the other apple at him. He catches it effortlessly, before he steps into the van too, sliding the door close. "Are you alright," he inquires, reaching for her hand but Rebecca jerks away, shifting to the window and keeping a distance between them.

"I'm fine. Just thinking."

He draws in a sharp intake of breath as if she'd just told him the world is about to end in two seconds. "What are you thinking about?"

Now he's starting to get on her nerves. His overprotective side is back and as much as she hated it back then, she hates it now ten times more. "Things you shouldn't concern yourself with Colby, and for the last time, I'm fine. Please stop asking."

He slowly nods, his gaze somber when she peeks a look at him out of the corner of her eye. The atmosphere in the van is tense and awkward as Daniel returns from the house and starts the van. Fortunately, Daniel engages them in conversation throughout the journey, especially her, over why she should visit the hospital and get her wrist checked to prevent any unexpected complications when she gets home. Rebecca barely felt any pain at all when she was bandaging it after her shower, but she still nods. Daniel and Colby both start laughing and chatting about random things her far away mind doesn't bother to register.

"What would you two like to have? There's a cafe across the street. If you like I can get both of you coffee and some donuts." Daniel offers when they arrive at the bus station and he parks the van somewhere safe.

"Nothing for me," Rebecca says, clutching the bottle of water as she waits for Colby to get out of the van first. "I'm certain my friend will arrive anytime soon." She hesitates for a moment before reluctantly taking his hand, stepping out of van and into the bustling bus station. She quickly wriggles her hand back. Colby just smiles but there's clear restlessness in his eyes. "Thanks for everything Daniel," she says, hugging him tight.

Daniel returns the hug warmly, rubbing her back. "There's no need, my dear. It was a pleasure. What about you Colby? Coffee?"

Rebecca doesn't hear his reply for she strides away from them, eyes searching around the bus station thronged with people for any signs of Ashley and her brother. She doesn't doubt her mother will tag along. Her entire family will be here any moment with all the questions she isn't ready to answer. She wonders what they'll ask first and who will do the interrogation. It will definitely be Ashley and if it is, she wouldn't mind. She can handle her friend and even her mother. But not her brother.

"Rebecca." She turns around to find Colby standing right behind her. His voice is low and tentative, rid of the teasing tone it had once held. He has his hands in his back pockets, swaying on his feet, looking nervous and indecisive.

She thinks of ignoring him and walking away but his frayed posture alone keeps her grounded in place. "Yes?"

"I don't want things to end like this."

That's the last thing she'd expected out of his mouth. "What are you talking about?"

He takes a deep breath in through his nose and stutters, judging and testing his next words. Without a doubt, he has her full attention now. "Do you. . . . do you believe what we did last. . . . night is a mistake?"

Cornered. Trapped. Is exactly how she's feeling right now. Telling him the truth—the truth about her feelings—is too much of a risk but saying no also closes doors she's isn't willing to shut. He's serious now. Which actually means he has something important to tell her unlike this morning when all he seemed to want was sex. "Do you?" She retorts back to him.

He looks at her for a long while. It feels like an eternity for her. "No," he finally replies, making goosebumps prickle on her skin. She feels her heart hammering, ready to burst any moment. "What we had last night," he takes her free hand into his grasp, holding them so delicately it seems he's scared she'll break when held too tight, "was beautiful. It was wondrous and I feel it doesn't deserve to end like this; so distant, cold and indifferent. Especially not with regrets."

'Beautiful. Wondrous. What we had last night.' So he doesn't think it's a mistake. 'It doesn't deserve to end like this,' meaning he probably wants something more like she does.

She doesn't want to think anymore about whatever happened in her past or the ex-girlfriend he may still love back at Los Angeles. She lets the bottle in her hand slide to the ground and cups his face. Things may not end the way she wants them to but if she doesn't take the risk now, when will she? What more does she have left to lose? 'It's now or never,' she thinks as she pulls him down and kisses him.

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Author's Note: This chapter is especially dedicated to TheManandTheMessiah who reminded me of a point I'd forgotten to write about. Thank you so much and to all my wonderful readers, this is for you since I know it has been a long time since I updated. Thank you all for your understanding and patience ❤❤❤❤