A number of shopping bags lay on the bed. Smiling at my flushed face, a patent success of his efforts to ease my anxiety, Liam tugs at his scarf and shuts our bedroom door. I smile back while taking off my boots, feeling happy and positive.

The day has turned out splendid despite the odds, and for that I'm grateful. A deep, audible sigh accompanies the slump on the bed as I sit down, physically exhausted but mentally energetic. Liam strides in, his eyes focused on mine.

"Tired?" he asks.

"Shopping is always tiring," I utter with all honesty.

It forever wears me off.

"I think I agree, and I never liked shopping before," Liam replies.

"Really?" I get up so I can take my clothes off. "Do you, now?" I shrug out of my blazer.

The room is warm enough and I know what else can add more to that.

"Very much." Liam strides over toward me, a playful smile on his lips. "I love watching you trying the clothes, and kissing you in the fitting room when you need my help to zip your dress. Oh, it always takes me back in time." He holds me close against his chest while kissing the hollow of my neck.

I giggle. "You mean . . . back in Montana when you barged in your mother's boutique and found me all alone in the fitting room? Oh, you were so crazy for me, Mr. Darcy, weren't you?" I let myself melt in his embrace, and his soft laughter is quite a sweet melody to my ears.

"Crazy for you? You wish, Mrs. Darcy!" he mutters over a kiss on my shoulder and I laugh loudly.

"Oh, so you are saying weren't nuts over me?" I quiz.

I know he was, and I was crazy for him, too. Ah, those were some sweet golden days!

"I probably was, but not as much as you believe," Liam says bluntly, but I can feel the lying undertone in his voice.

"Oh yeah? But my memory keeps telling me that you kept finding for every chance in the world to create a tryst between us. Whether it was in the library, or in the barn, or even in my bedroom at night, you always found a way to corner me in your territory," I murmur and it gets extremely difficult to smother a laugh.

Laughing, Liam wants to argue but a phone buzz interrupts him. "Hold on," he says, impelling me to move away from him as he searches for it in his jeans pocket. "It's Malik."

"I guess it's about work matters?" I probe. "I'll take these bags away from here." I proceed with my task and leave him to his call.

Alone in the dressing room I get the chance to contemplate about our doctor's visit today. Slowly I start unpacking, thinking of the treatment I'm about to start tomorrow.

"It'll be fine, Kira Jones," I breathe.

A moment later I step out of the dressing room.

"I have to travel tomorrow," Liam tells me as soon as I get back into the bedroom. I stare at him without a word, surprised. "Malik just called me. He was supposed to fly to Munich this evening but he's got an emergency. Roshni is going back to Australia."

"Okay, wait!" I stop him, for I hardly understand anything he says. "Maybe we should start with your trip and then you can tell me about Roshni. So what's it about and when are you going?" I saunter toward the bed and we both sit down.

Liam takes a soft breath. "I have to be in Munich by tomorrow. There's an important deal to seal and it can't wait," he replies.

"I see." As unpleasant as this news may be, I still have to be understanding. And what about Roshni? Why is she going back to Australia?"

"I think one of her family members is sick. Malik says he can't leave her alone right now, which means it's something serious," he answers while taking off his shoes.

"Oh? I hope it's not too serious," I mutter, worried about Roshni. "I'll give her a call later."

"Yeah, later." For the umpteenth time Liam takes a deep breath, eyeing me softly.

I respond by laying my head on his shoulder, and he kisses my hair swiftly.

"Munich like . . . In Germany?" I ask him. He nods his head. "Okay. And when do you plan to leave?"

I guess I should start getting used to this, right? He won't always be around.

"Ten in the morning." Liam replies in a low voice. "I was thinking . . . Maybe I should reschedule it for the evening instead?" He glances at me suggestively.

"Why?"

"That way I can go with you to the hospital for your first shot," he replies. "I want to be with you when you start the treatment, Kira. I don't want to leave you alone."

A very fond smile stretches on my lips. His eyes are shining in a luminous blue, adding much to his indisputable tenderness. He's just the best.

"Don't worry, Hubby. I can do this," I tell him matter-of-factly. "You don't need to change your flight for that matter because I'll manage."

"Are you sure?" He seems worried.

"Very sure," I insist. "I'm not as weak as you think I am, Mr. Darcy! Just make sure you come back before Sunday, you get it?"

I swear I won't be forgiving if he stays over there for more than three days. And I hope his trip doesn't require more than that. Does it?

"How long will it take?" I ask him.

"It won't take long. Two days at most," he replies and I sigh with relief.

The following morning turns gloomy as I watch my husband getting dressed. It suddenly dawns on me that this will be my first time being away from him since we got married. Living in my little bubble had me completely oblivious of being lonely.

"I've put everything you asked for in the bag." I zip his leather duffel bag. "Anything else?" I glance up at him.

"Nothing, baby. I'm not staying there for good, remember?" he replies while wearing his jacket.

"Yeah. I'll miss you," I purr.

Smiling softly, Liam leans over and kisses my forehead. "I'll miss you, too, dear wife. Stay well. I'll call you as often as possible.."

"Hmm." I stand up, trying to smile my displeasure away like an adult I am.

"Good girl. You don't need to walk me out. It's too chilly outside." He grabs his bag, kisses me once again, but I adamantly walk him outside.

Soon after breakfast I get myself ready for the hospital appointment. Thankfully Mr. Prescott is not here so I have the implied freedom to drive on my own. My personal space is all I desire right now, given how private this situation is for me.

My brand new Mercedes E-Class is awesome to say the least. I can't stop smiling at the luxury and comfort the little thing brings me as I drive out of Kensington, the morning a bit dull and grey as though the sun is defeated.

The Beatles do a great job intertwining me along the way.

Dr. Adams is waiting for me as I arrive at St. Thomas Hospital. She asks about Liam and my response makes her smile sadly.

"Don't worry, you can pull it through," she tells me.

"I guess. So what else to know before we start?" I ask her nervously.

"Relax, Kira." She chuckles at my restless heels that keep tapping on the floor.

The only thing said is the explanations on how to do the injection even at home, because it is not necessary for me to visit the hospital everyday for that matter.

"It works on the upper thigh, upper arm, on your stomach, and . . . the butt," Dr. Adams explains. "Most of my patients prefer doing it on the stomach. I suppose it makes them feel more positive that way, but any form can work." She smiles while wearing her gloves.

"I guess we can try on the stomach, too. Let's say . . . it feels more effective," I suggest and we both laugh.

God, this ought to go well. Please.

Dr. Adams starts giving me the shot and I manage to follow through until the needle pierces through the flesh of my lower abdomen, and the sting makes her squeak a bit with eyes shut.

Dr. Adams laughs briefly. "We're done, Kira."

"Oh?" I open my eyes.

"You're really scared of this, aren't you?" she teases while pressing a cotton gauze on my pierced area.

I hold it and free her hand.

"I tried but it's impossible to be friends with that monster," I reply musingly, but meaning it. "So, five times a week?" I inquire about the shot.

"Yes, Kira. Don't think too It's not as hard as it sounds; you'll get used to it as you go on," Dr. Adams says gently as she disposes the used syringe into a small trash bin, followed by her gloves. "And don't worry about doing it yourself. You can come here until you master it."

"Okay. I'll have to come back then because I don't think I can do it alone yet," I confess.

"No problem."

I drive back home with a lot in my mind. Liam being away is still fresh news and I can't deny the void. But anyways, I can pull this through just as I promised him. I've successfully taken my first shot and I'll have another tomorrow.

Roshni crosses my mind. I wonder how serious her situation is, so decidedly I give her a call, which directs me straight to her voicemail. Crap! Has she left already? To answer my question, I check on Malik, and luckily he answers after a few rings.

"Hey, Professor," he mutters in a low voice.

"Hey. Are you good?" I quiz.

"Not really. I'm just coming from the Airport right now."

"Oh? Has she left already?"

"Yeah. She sends her apology for leaving like that," Malik says unceremoniously, no mirth in his usually playful tone of voice. "But she'll probably come back. She said so."

I detect worry and fear coming from him, and it's now evident that he's already attached to her.

"I'm sorry to hear that, and I know you're probably going to brood at the sight of your enormous house without Lightness," I utter with an impish smile.

Malik chuckles lightly. "What is this, Professor? Are you rubbing salt to my bleeding wounds or something?"

"Not really. I think I'm feeling as down as you are . . . and as they say, misery loves company. So how about having lunch together if you don't have anything productive to do?" I suggest.

"Um . . ." Malik sounds hesitant.

"Only if you don't have other plans. Don't feel pressured, please," I contrive.

"I have an appointment with someone," Malik replies.

"Oh, okay. No problem." Disappointment is apparent in my voice.

"But I'll only take one hour on that appointment because there's no way I'm missing something yummy made from home," Malik says and my smile returns.

"Great. I'll tell Mrs. Prescott to prepare your favorite," I state, happy to make it work.

I think he's feeling down, and I can't say I'm any different. Plus, I missed having a lone moment with him, talking and laughing, just like the old times.

He's still my good friend and whatever happened between us in Miami can never change my feelings for him. He'll always be a brother I never had—the one who understands me so well.