My So Called Life 1. Chapter 1

**I'll admit now I have no idea where this is going, I just seem to have time on my hands at the moment!**

**I don't own My So-Called Life. **

The library was a strange place at night. All those words like trapped there, stuck together in silent argument: religion and science; history and modernity; love and tragedy. It was almost entirely silent but if you really thought about it, the Carnegie Library was probably the noisiest building in Pittsburgh.

Angela walked slowly down the long corridor from her office, her bag heavy as always on Friday. But she didn't mind her slow pace; she was in no hurry to get home tonight.

"Goodnight Mikael,"

The middle-aged security guard, sitting behind his desk with his feet up, looked up from the television, "see ya Miss Chase,"

Angela smiled to herself. Ever since she moved to the main library from the Mt. Washington site six months ago Mikael had most often been the man left to care for the building overnight. He was the sort of guy who watched so many documentaries on National Geographic that he knew almost everything there was to know about almost everything. He never took out a book though, despite working in the greatest centre of knowledge in Pittsburgh. Angela often wondered whether he could read at all, or maybe he was just dyslexic or something.

As she exited the building it began to rain, she hurried over to her car and was grateful to get the door unlocked and climb inside before she got too wet. She glanced down at the clock on the dashboard, six-thirty, just enough time to get home, take a shower and get ready.

The smell of roast beef wafted out into the porch as Angela unlocked the front door of the modest house in the suburbs of Pittsburgh. It was a deliciously disconcerting scent. She loved his cooking but she had the feeling the food would be the only truly pleasant aspect of this evening. It wasn't as if she hadn't met his parents before, and they were actually okay as people to like talk to or whatever. It was just something about the way this whole evening had been planned, like just between him and them, like some kind of plot. Something was going on, and Angela didn't like it.

"Hey," Ben appeared as if from nowhere, wearing an apron over his suit, he checked his watch, "you're cutting it fine,"

"Sorry. I'm gonna grab a shower,"

He nodded and smiled. He smiled the same way on their first date at college; he took her to the movies.

Angela looked at the array of clothes hanging in her wardrobe. Gone were the plaid shirts and leggings of her youth, in their place were smart dark suits, conservative jumpers and … is that a twin-set? She can't quite put her finger on when exactly this swap occurred. They had only been out of college for two years and suddenly she had transformed into a suburban housewife - without the wife part.

--

"Ben this looks absolutely delightful. Trust me to raise a son who's a better cook than I am," Evie Simmons laughed at her own joke.

Bowls of vegetables were passed around the table politely and conversation focussed on careers – mainly Ben's career as Angela was assumed to be content "in her little office at the library."

"Of course Angela we have to consider," Evie Simmons twirled her fork in a way that drove Angela mad and looked up at her from lashes thick with mascara, "you may not be at the library all that much longer, hmm?" She used that tone of voice that older women use when what they're really talking about is children.

Angela indulged her with a diplomatic smile, "what do you mean Evie?"

"Well-," her eyes drifted toward her son.

"Mom," Ben chided, "don't make Angela uncomfortable,"

"Yes Evie," Bob Simmons continued, "leave little Angie alone, and let's just enjoy our dinner,"

But a subject like that, once raised, doesn't just go away. The dinner continued in almost complete silence with the shadow of Evie's allusions hanging over the sombre quartet.

As Angela collected together the dishes at the end of the evening she could hear whisperings coming from the hallway. She tried to ignore them, instead focussing on spooning left over potatoes into one bowl. It wasn't as if she hadn't been anticipating it for some time now, they had been together for three years after all – it's only to be expected surely. Yet for some reason the idea filled Angela with terror. Not the idea of being married _per se _but the idea of being married to Ben. But that sounds cruel. It's not as if he wasn't a good man, an honest man, a man she had truly fallen in love with at college. Just that he wasn't the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. He had been a mature choice, but perhaps she had finally outgrown her maturity and blossomed into a coarse twenty-something to whom twice a week after the world news – Ben's paperwork permitting – was no longer sufficient to quench a newly discovered zeal and a life lived on the quiet side no longer a life lived to the full. She stabbed the final potato with a butter knife in frustration at her inability to face up to her own feelings.

"Woah, did it say something you disagreed with,"

Angela looked down at the potato impaled on the knife and flushed, "I wanted to make sure I wouldn't drop the knife on the way to the kitchen,"

"Rather a knife and a potato?" he smirked, "messy,"

Angela lifted the collection of dishes, plates and cutlery she had assembled into two modest towers and headed toward the kitchen, "do you think your parents had a good time?"

Ben followed her carrying wine glasses, "mostly at your expense I fear,"

"They don't mean anything by it," she replied vaguely, "my mom is the same – sometimes,"

She set down the plates on the worktop and moved to open the back door to let the cat in, his scratching was becoming deafening, like an overly pretentious metaphor for her own life.

"I thought my father's ideas for the practice were interesting," he poured another glass of wine, only his second of the evening. Angela was on her fourth. "He seems to be hinting he might want to take a back seat from now on,"

"So he should, he should be enjoying his retirement by now, not still rushing around those offices,"

Ben nodded thoughtfully, "he's talked about maybe making me a junior partner, more responsibility," he moved toward her, his wine glass made a clinking noise as he lowered it to the granite worktop, "financial security, more disposable income, maybe a bigger house,"

Angela felt compelled to pass comment, "great." She felt him settle behind her, his hand sweeping the hair from her neck, a gesture she used to find intoxicating.

"It also means I wont have to worry about spending so much money on this," he produced a small box, holding it before her, opened to reveal a diamond ring.

It had always seemed stupid to Angela how women inevitably gasped at the sight of an engagement ring and yet … she gasped. Ben came around to face her, looking up into her eyes with his wide genuine blue ones.

"Well?"

Angela scoffed, trying desperately to maintain the appropriate appreciative smile, "Ben!" she exclaimed.

He looked suitably proud of himself to have elicited such a reaction, "do you like it?"

"Of course," she laughed, "wow,"

Ben took the ring from the box and Angela felt her stomach turn over. Why didn't she do something about this situation earlier? Marriage? No way back. A life lived in the suburbs with a good man and probably a family eventually. God she must be so selfish, how many people find themselves in a situation like this? She's lucky isn't she? He held up the ring to her.

"Angela Chase, will you do me honour of becoming my wife?"

She smiled, the most genuine smile she could have mustered. She remembered the first time they met in the library at college; he was a business major and she was struggling through an English literature degree. She sat next to him at a reading desk and he offered her a piece of chocolate if she would test him on a case study he had to memorise for class. She was struck by the blue of his eyes and his openness, his parents were big news in Pittsburgh society but he was down to earth then and refreshingly normal compared to the other weirdoes she had encountered. After just a few dates she was certain that she was smitten and settled into Ben's routine of upmarket restaurants and revision sessions. He was hesitant when it came to intimacy, knowing Angela was still a virgin and being a virgin himself. Their first time was tentative and tender but as Angela stared into those blue eyes she found her thoughts were not exclusively of him.

But she had pushed any doubts to the back of her mind, certain that they were fruitless and that she should be happy with Ben because he was all that any woman could hope for. He always dressed smartly; he was handsome in that well-bred kind of way, and intelligent. He could offer her everything; security, loyalty, love. There were days when he would do things that she found so wonderful her heart would ache for him, like the day she started her job at the library and he wrote _I love you _on the first page of her notebook and left a pressed flower in her purse. But other days, like today, she felt suffocated by him, by his need to control everything.

But then, how did she know this wasn't as good as it got? Her parents compromised their entire marriage; they had even survived an affair for God's sake. They quite clearly despised one another at least ten percent of the time but made up for it by loving each other devotedly for eighty-eight percent – and the remaining two percent of the time Graham had spent fucking Hallie Lowenthal. But maybe that was reality; stories of perfect marriages were most often footnoted by infidelity followed by divorce or violent homicide right? So maybe Ben was the one for her, the one she should settle down with, start a family with, be with for like, forever. She did love him after all.

She pressed a palm to her heart as she stared into Ben's eyes, "yes," she said simply.

Ben's face lit up, "yes?"

She couldn't bring herself to say it again so she nodded instead. She felt herself enveloped by Ben's arms and lifted off her feet, his joyous laughter ringing in her ears. Wrapping her arms around his neck she buried her face in his neck and inhaled his safe scent. Swept up in the infectious ecstasy of the moment she made no hesitation in allowing herself to be carried upstairs … before the world news.

--

Angela liked Wednesday mornings; she didn't have to be in work until the afternoon so she had the house to herself all morning. On the breakfast table was a note from Ben, _don't loose it!_ She smiled; it seemed to her to be both thoughtful and crude at the same time, so she screwed up the note and threw it in the bin. Unfortunately there was some work to be done, a small stack of children's books sat in the corner of the sitting room ready to be transported to a kindergarten downtown by 1pm. After indulging in a long bath and a cooked breakfast Angela relaxed in front of the television for a black and white film. As the credits rolled she packed the books into a box and set off in the car for Sunny Days Kindergarten.

The kindergarten was noisy and painted in bold colours, small children gathered around Angela as she entered.

"Everybody sit down on the round mat please!" the assistant shouted, she smiled at Angela apologetically "sorry about the craziness, it's the end of the morning session so we've got parents coming in to collect kids. I'll be with you in a minute, take a seat,"

Angela sat in the corner next to a painting of an elephant. She pulled open the lid of the box and inspected the books the library had leant them, part of a scheme Angela herself had helped organise.

"Holly Campbell," the assistant reached out a hand to a little girl sitting on the round rug as her parents appeared through the main door.

The assistant pointed at the remaining children and they all spoke in unison, "goodbye Holly Campbell!" The little girl waved as she left.

Angela flicked through one of the books in the box on her lap. She looked down at her hand as it held one side of the book, and at the beautifully set diamond that now adorned her ring finger. Wasn't she supposed to like shiver in excitement every time she looked at it?

"Jordan Catalano," the assistant's voice rang in Angela's ears and for a moment she thought she must have misheard. "Goodbye Jordan Catalano!" the children's voices were unmistakable.

Angela looked up to see a boy of about four stepping off the round rug and heading for the door. Her view of the door was obscured by a cupboard and try as she might to lean as far forward as she could without falling off her plastic chair, she could not see around it. A hand extended out to the small boy and Angela held her breath, it had to be a coincidence.

She stood up, almost dropping the box from her lap in the process. The children and the assistants looked over at the flustered young woman struggling to control a box of reading material standing in the corner of their kindergarten, "I have to go, I'll leave these here, just make sure they're back in two weeks," she quickly made for the exit, feeling more than a little embarrassed. Angela's heeled shoes made a swift tune on the polished floor of the corridor but as she turned the corner to the exit of the building she was brought to a sudden halt by warm body. She dared herself to look up.

"Woah," his first word to her in five years, "don't shoot I was just on my way back to pay it," he held out a fistful of dollars toward her.

Angela was struck speechless.

"He'll be in for the morning again tomorrow and then full day on Friday,"

Angela took the money from his hand, noting the silver band that encircled one finger like always. Had she really changed that much? She would always know him - sadly. Slowly she looked up into his face, there was no mistaking it, not that Angela wouldn't have trusted the tingling in her fingertips to tell her as much.

"Okay," the second part of the word was extended; he seemed to frown a little, "bye,"

She watched him turn away, collecting the boy, and disappearing out of the exit.

Angela walked out slowly to her car and sat in silence for a few moments. It was him, she wasn't mistaken, he even smelled the same. How could he not have recognised her? She hadn't changed all that much; her hair was no longer red, instead restored to her original dark blonde, but apart from that she looked almost the same as in high school.

She settled down at her desk in work and started on the paperwork that had been piling up for days. There was a message for her from the main desk to say that Ben had been trying to contact her. She dialled his number and waited for an answer. There was a knock on her door.

"Yes?"

Debbie from the main desk appeared in the doorway, "someone here from Sunny Days,"

"Oh," she frowned, remembering how she had behaved, "send them in,"

Debbie stood aside to allow the person into the office.

"I'll be with you in a moment," she assured, still looking down at the array of paperwork spread over her desk and at the telephone, still rining with no reply.

"Okay," came the reply.

Angela, recognising the voice instantly, slammed the phone down in shock and looked up.

Jordan smiled, "hey,"

Confusion would be an understatement at this point. Only a few hours ago he hadn't known who she was.

"Can I help you?"

"Angela,"

His voice speaking her name sent a familiar shiver up Angela's spine, "Jordan," she whispered. Clearing her throat she continued, "I thought you didn't recognise me,"

He smiled a little, "I didn't want to say anything in front of Jay,"

"Your son?"

He nodded, monitoring her reaction. She was relieved to find she could actually keep her emotions under wraps and not just dive under her desk and hide until he left, which was seeming like such a good option at this point.

"So I just came to say hi, I felt bad after for not saying anything so-,"

"Okay. Hi,"

"Hi,"

"So what are you-,"

"I asked at the-,"

They both stopped and smiled.

"You go," Jordan prompted.

"So what are you doing now, like job-wise?"

"I'm doing a course at the Arts Institute,"

"Like painting?" Angela asked, impressed.

He shrugged, "some. Mainly product design, chairs mostly … I like chairs,"

She smiled, "chairs?"

"I just finished one, for Jay, shaped like an egg. It hangs from the ceiling in his room,"

"Wow. What is he-, is he like four?"

"That's right,"

There was an awkward silence, that terrible silence when there are so many questions just hanging in the air to be asked at some point but which neither party has the courage to address.

"He looks like you. He has your nose, does he get his lighter colouring from his mother?"

"I guess,"

"Do you still-,"

"She moved away, she's living in New York now,"

Angela raised her eyebrows, "popular choice, according to Rickie that's where Rayanne ended up too,"

"I know." He spoke the words deep as if to ensure they reverberated around her mind, and just to be certain his eyes branded her with them, "she left just after Jay's first birthday,"

Angela desperately fought tears, anger and despair. She clung to the edge of her desk, displaying to Jordan, for the first time, her engagement ring. Rayanne had pretty much lost her battle with alcohol by the time they finished high school, she fell behind and although the Principal gave her the chance to take the last year again in the hope of getting a college place somewhere she refused. Angela lost contact with her after that, mainly because she was so busy with college herself but also because she found it too painful to watch her friend's decline. Rickie updated her occasionally but even he didn't see her all that often once he started at drama school. But Rickie had told her nothing about a child, let alone a child with Jordan of all people. Perhaps he was trying to protect her, knowing she and Ben were together now and to all intents and purposes happy.

"It was-, I mean we were never really together. We were just-,"

"Yeah," she interrupted him, "I remember what you and Rayanne were "just," I remember very well,"

Angela could feel the heat rising in her face and a knot forming in her stomach, the room was suddenly torrid and her chair uncomfortable.

"Is that," he indicated to her ring, "an engagement ring?"

"I don't believe this, what is your point?" Angela automatically went on the defensive.

"Nothing," Jordan replied, a little surprised by her tone.

"I think you should leave now. Why did you even come here?"

He gritted his teeth, "I forget,"

His shoulders were broad, she had always liked that, when he used to wrap his arms around her she felt safe and warm against him. His hair was shorter than it used to be but it framed his face well, a face that was now more defined than in the past. He was altogether more maturely dressed and his air was one of a more refined man as opposed to the stumbling teenager she had known.

The door opened and Debbie reappeared, "Angela, the people from the audio department are here," she smiled and closed the door.

"Saved by the bell," Angela commented before shuffling the papers on her desk and standing, "I have a meeting,"

She attempted to pass him but he reached for her wrist as it brushed his side, "tell me where you live," he whispered harshly.

With Angela unable to summon the strength to stop him, Jordan pushed her back toward her desk. Within moments her paperwork was scattered across the acrylic carpet and she felt the hard edge of the desk against her lower back. His mouth was all over her neck and his hands all over her body as he clumsily lowered her down on to the desktop. She wrapped her legs around him as he lifted her skirt and took a fistfull of the cotton that made up her underwear. She reached down to unfasten his belt, hands shaking …

"No,"

Jordan released her wrist but remained where he stood with his back to Angela as she opened the office door.

"Thank you Mr Catalano," she began, in her most professional voice, "I'll bear your thoughts in mind," then waited sternly for him to vacate her office.

As he passed her he gave her one of those heated glances, the sort that medieval heroes gave to maidens after they had saved them from some peril or another, but who wanted to maintain an air of mystery … for some unfathomable reason. Angela forced herself not to watch him walk away down the long corridor, she knew her resolve was not that strong. Had it ever been all that solid when it came to him? She could almost have laughed at the irony of it all, a matter of days after her partner proposes, the love of her life reappears without warning. What's more he reappears with a son in tow, a son he had with her best friend, and as if that wasn't enough crazy for one person to handle, he actually seemed to still want her. It was too much and Angela felt a headache coming on.


	2. Chapter 2

Angela turned back into her office, unable to resist a quick glance at the dark denim-clad ass disappearing through the doors at the end of the corridor. She noted that all of her papers were still in their original untidy piles on the desk, yet she was certain she could taste him, could she not even trust her own imagination when she was around him?

"Angela, the audio people are waiting in the conference room,"

Debbie's voice broke off her thoughts.

In the end the meeting lasted over an hour, it seems putting said meeting off for nearly two weeks had allowed the audio department to summon yet more issues for Angela to sort out than they originally discussed. It was pretty much lunchtime by the time Angela returned to her desk. She took out her pre-packed lunch, being totally averse to anything served in the library canteen, and spun her desk chair around to take in the view of the street from her window. But something made her turn back, something that had caught her eye due to it seeming out of place. She turned back to the desk and picked up the odd yellow square of paper that stuck out amidst the slightly disorganised array of white headed. _32 Wendsley Ave. Lawrenceville. _

"Shit," she uttered.

There was a knock at the door that made her jump, it seemed as though the world and his wife were in the mood for interrupting Angela Chase today.

"Yes?"

One of the work experience girls from reception bustled into the office wearing the sort of self-assured smile that only girls of that high school age can wear.

"It's Betty's birthday so we're having cake, I brought you a slice since you never come to the canteen,"

She looked down at Angela with a smile that made little wrinkles across the bridge of her nose, a smile so sugary Angela could have vomited right there and then – with or without the cake.

"Thanks," she responded gratefully, attempting to return the grin … but just looking stupid.

"Hey who was that guy this morning?"

"Hmm?"

"You know," she prompted, in that whine only high school girls can use when discussing boys with their girlfriends, "the guy with the dark hair and the cute butt,"

"I don't know any guys with cute butts,"

"I thought someone said he was seeing you about the Sunny Days scheme. Mr Cantrato or something. I was just wondering if you knew like who he was and more importantly if he's-,"

"Shouldn't," Angela interrupted, "you be helping Betty celebrate, I'm sure you'll be missed if you hang around here much longer?"

The smile slipped as Angela's attempt at sounding sincere failed, and the girl shuffled out of the office, probably off to tell the other work experience morons that Angela Chase was like a total psycho bitch from hell.

--

Whether by some strange twist of fate, some message from the universe or maybe just a random warm front, the sun came out just as Angela parked her car at the bottom of Wendsley Avenue. She was totally clueless as to what she was actually doing there and even more clueless as to why she had felt to need to park somewhere other than in front of the house. What could possibly be wrong with a newly engaged woman dropping by the house of an old school friend?

Wendsley Avenue was a smart enough street, comprised of long rows of dark red brick terraced houses. Number 32 was about half way up, its dark wooden door was adorned with a wreath wrapped with a red bow ready for the speedily approaching festive season. Angela pulled the collar of her coat closer around her neck to keep out the chill. An image flashed through her mind; glossy tears falling from eyes rendered a startling blue from emotion. She forced the image from her thoughts and rang the bell.

Jordan stood in the doorway; a slow, knowing smile crept across his features, "I thought you might not find it in all that mess,"

"Jordan, the paper was bright yellow,"

"I stole it from Sunny Days,"

Angela mock frowned.

The smile widened a little, "you wanna come in?"

She could only nod.

The house inside was more like an art studio, large canvases rested against walls, papers pinned to the doorframes flapped in the draft and unfinished items of furniture, both wood, metal and plastics, littered the floor.

"We mostly live upstairs," Jordan said simply, noting her wide-eyed inspection of the ground floor, "this way,"

She willingly followed him up the curved wooden staircase. All the way up the wall was covered with pictures, some framed others not, of Jordan and Jay in various comic poses. In one, Angela could just make out the Sydney Opera House behind the pair gleefully pulling tongues. In another Jay sat on Jordan's shoulders overlooking a city that Angela could identify with some surety as Paris. Another showed the father and son pair in the basket of a hot air balloon over an African plain. She realised after a few moments that Jordan was observing her from the top of the stairs. She vaguely indicated to the pictures with a wordless questioning.

"My dad passed two years ago. He left me everything," he shook his head.

Angela recalled the icy relationship between Jordan and his father; she remembered the countless times she had fetched the camp bed and extra pillows when Jordan had had to stay over because of some fight or another.

"I figured, before Jay started kindergarten, we could see some of the world,"

Tears sprang into Angela's eyes, she wasn't sure why, as she looked up at another of the pictures, of Jordan holding Jay up in the air with the orange form of Ayre's Rock in the background.

The upstairs of the house wasn't exactly orderly, but it was more of a home than the lower floor. The living room was small and cosy, with a battered leather couch and armchair, and a stout wooden coffee table. Every shelf was cluttered with knickknacks, serving as a gift shop diary of their travels; a snow globe from Chicago, a bust of Alexander the Great from Greece, a wooden carving from Africa.

"Look, I only came because I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier, I had no right to be angry with you. It was just-,"

"A shock?"

"Yeah, you could say that,"

Jordan took hold of her hand, taking her breath away in the process, and led her to the leather couch, "can I get you a drink?"

She hesitated; sitting down, having a drink – it was the slippery slope, and her grip was faltering. "I should really get home,"

"To your fiancé?"

She shrugged.

Jordan lowered his gaze, instantly regretting having raised the subject and risked Angela leaving even sooner than she would have. He ran his finger over the piece of jewellery, thinking it a little too extravagant for Angela.

"He must be doing well,"

Angela withdrew her hand from his and tucked her hair behind her ear, "we're very happy," she said, as though it was a line she had practised often, even she cringed at the robotic tone. She promptly sat down.

Jordan, sensing words were unnecessary, left to fetch some drinks. Angela tried to relax into the soft leather beneath her but found herself tense beyond measure. She felt guilty, though she hadn't done anything to be guilty about – yet. The room, small to begin with, felt as though it was shrinking further still around her. She had often thought about Jordan, about bumping into him in the street one day, or spotting him in a crowd at the train station. What she would say. What she would do, if she had the freedom to do it.

They had parted as friends when Angela left for college. Well, more than friends. Somewhere in between friends and lovers - a strange place. They would still hold hands, still exchange secrets only with each other, still occasionally meet in the boiler room. Angela had been more open with him than with any other person, she flushed at the memories of lying side-by-side just whispering. Things she never dreamt she would share with anybody. She never asked if he slept with other girls, she tried not to think about it. They never went all the way, but she had gone as far as she dared. The night before she left for college he shed tears, she wasn't sure why.

"I found some cake. It's a bit stale, we kinda forgot about it,"

Angela couldn't help but smile at his relaxed candour. He seemed freed now of the burdens that used to weigh him down, less confused at the world. She took the plate offered to her.

They both smirked as they bit into the cake and found it more than a little hardened. Jordan finally broke into laughter, closely followed by Angela.

"Sorry,"

"No, it's really okay, quite tasty in fact," she laughed.

Jordan put his plate down on the coffee table and sat next to her on the couch. His choice took her by surprise; she had expected him to take the armchair. She immediately tensed, feeling his warmth against her leg.

"Is this weird? I can move,"

She felt him shift, as if to stand, and reached over to place a possessive hand on his leg. He looked up at her, sultry and confused. Frozen by his gaze, it took a few moments for Angela to remember the location of her rogue hand and she quickly removed it back to her own lap.

"This was a bad idea," she utters.

He shifts again, this time turning toward her, his face tilting toward her neck; his words register only as warm breath against her skin, "was it?"

His mouth etched closer to her neck as his hand ventured, dangerously low, across her abdomen. She felt herself take a ragged breath as his lips finally found the sensitive skin and stole a kiss there for the first time since high school. He lingered.

"What is that perfume?"

Angela, a little confused replied, "it's French, Ben bought it for my birthday,"

The hot breath ceased and Jordan pulled away, "I don't like it," he muttered.

"Oh, I'm sorry, maybe next time I'll get my fiancé to consult you first before buying me gifts,"

She took the opportunity to lean forward and set her plate down on the table with sufficient force to indicate her irritation.

"Sorry," he muttered, "it's been a while since there was a woman in the house,"

Angela felt the tension ease on hearing his confession, "you're telling me there hasn't been anyone, not since Rayanne?"

He shrugged, "there was this one girl," he glanced away toward the hallway as if shy to talk about it, "I met her at the supermarket," he began, "she was great but she wasn't up for the whole guy with a kid scenario," he smirked, "she just wanted me for sex,"

Angela snorted; glad to see the old Jordan hadn't been totally deposed by this new mature father figure. She looked up into the blue eyes that had captivated her as a teen, and for a moment allowed herself to be transported. The urge to explore his body like she used to was becoming almost uncontrollable but at the same time her hands were frozen at her sides. It was left to Jordan to make the first move and before she knew it he was lifting her chin toward his face and his mouth was on hers with an urgency that seemed to take both of them by surprise.

"Jordan," she gasped as his lips moved to her neck.

"Uh huh?" he gasped back, taking her ear lobe between his teeth and then sucking at it eliciting a groan from Angela.

Angela could feel her body responding to him, it was a long time since she had felt this way with Ben, and never with this intensity. The heat of Jordan's mouth was now moving along her jaw line leaving a trail of damp skin that cooled all too quickly, whilst his hand was roving over her body, grazing her breasts and rubbing along her collarbone. Without thinking she was arching into his touch, wanting more whilst all the time knowing that it should stop.

His hand rested against her shoulder, inching her back onto the couch. Before she could protest his body was draped over hers, his lips working their way down her chest toward the scooped neckline of her jumper. Her hands found their way under his shirt and all over his back; his skin was warm and soft. She yearned for more; to see him, to feel more of him, to have him closer. She could feel his passion against her inner thigh and pressed down against his buttocks to push him harder against her, he growled against her chest and pulled the neck of her jumper down to expose her bra.

They both knew they were quickly approaching the point of no return. Angela's understanding of how she had let it get this far was hazy; all she knew was his scent and the way his fingernails felt lightly against her skin.

"Jordan," she gasped as he mouthed her breast through the fabric of her bra, "really, stop,"

His mouth ceased its attack, instead he simply rested his forehead against her chest, "sorry," he uttered.

Angela felt her heartbeat slow and the voice in her head gave her some peace, instead she thought she heard laughter. She looked down at Jordan; he was gently stroking her arm and mustering a breathy laughter.

"All we've done since meeting again is apologise to one another," he looked up, smiling.

Angela conceded and laughed.

Jordan sat up, allowing Angela to right her clothing.

"Angela Chase," he sighed, "the things you do to me,"

She watched him rub his face and brush back his hair. She could feel the fabric of her bra was damp from his mouth, and as the damp cooled it was sending goose bumps across her chest.

He turned to her, his eyes darkly serious, "what are we gonna do?"

"We spent years pretending to be friends,"

"Yeah but in private it was different, we weren't so good,"

Angela smiled but the weight of the situation quickly returned, washing away the memories of their high school behaviours, "I'm getting married Jordan, I shouldn't have come here," she stood up quickly.

"I'm glad you did," he joined her, pressing his body against her and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Jordan," she whispered.

"Can I see you again?"

She shook her head.

"Okay maybe not here but maybe we could go out somewhere,"

Angela stood, pulling her skirt straight, "I have to leave now." She made for the door and was surprised to find that Jordan did not follow her immediately, but as she quickly descended the stairs she heard the door close behind her and footsteps on the landing.

"Angela, wait a minute,"

She paused at the front door as Jordan dashed down the staircase.

"There's this new gallery in town showing some of my drawings. It's nothing big but they're having a party the day after tomorrow for the opening. No pressure, I just thought maybe you could come. I'd like you to see some of my work,"

It was quite clear that this was a bigger deal to him than he was making out, the pride that radiated from his eyes was enough to melt Angela's heart despite his efforts to conceal it. A long suppressed urge to encourage and protect him surfaced, bringing to mind the nights spent enthusing about Residue following one of their gigs with Jordan convinced they had blown it.

"A gallery?"

The shy smile that Angela always found so alluring crossed his otherwise sullen features, "yeah, it's a new place opposite the cinema on Falloway. It's a start,"

She smiled, "what about Jay?"

"Mrs Harvey next door, she looks after him sometimes. He likes it there, she has dogs,"

Angela smiles, "all right,"

"Can I pick you up from work,"

"Ha! No chance. I'll meet you in the supermarket car park,"

"Seven-thirty?"

"Okay,"

He took a step closer and lent in toward her. She did nothing to stop him, unable to resist the temptation to have one last kiss, a kiss to savour. He pressed his lips against hers, chaste but no less passionate for it. The way he ghosted his hand up her arm as if afraid of the consequences if he were to touch her again, the way he lingered after the kiss, eyes closed, just … savouring.

"Seven-thirty," he whispered.

--

Angela walked back down the hill to her car in a daze. His scent was still dominating her senses, the skin on her neck could still feel his touch, and other areas were also still sensitive from Jordan's passion.

She waited in the car for several minutes before venturing into the house. Ben's car was also on the driveway so she knew he was home, but she couldn't face him until she was certain he wouldn't be able to tell. Not that she had anything to hide, not really, but she felt guilty nevertheless. In her mind she had betrayed him.

Their home seemed more orderly and soulless than ever compared with Jordan's eclectic residence. She found Ben reading in the kitchen. He liked history; the spare bedroom was full of books about the American civil war, the British monarchy, the Industrial Revolution. Angela approached him slowly, afraid that something about her would give away the fact she had spent the afternoon with another man.

"What's that smell?"

Her entire body tensed.

Ben's solemn face opened into a warm smile, "you're wearing the perfume I bought?"

She nodded, trying to conceal the relief she felt.

He reached out to wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her to his side whilst keeping hold of the open book with his other hand, turning over the page to continue reading. Angela ran her fingers up his neck and into his hair and dipped down to kiss his temple. Her other hand made its way down his chest, "we could go upstairs," she whispered.

"Mmmm, what's brought this on?"

Angela unbuttoned his shirt a little way, "is it a crime to want to go to bed with my fiancé?"

Maybe it was because she craved intimacy. Maybe it was because she wanted to prove to herself that Jordan Catalano was not the be all and end all of mankind. Maybe she felt guilty because that was exactly how she felt at that moment.

"Aw Ang, I was just grabbing a few minutes before getting back to the Marburgh account, I'm really snowed under. Maybe this weekend we'll have some time to ourselves," he smiled.

Angela tried not to allow her smile to betray too much of her disappointment. In truth it was the answer she had expected, she just wanted to have it confirmed. How could she marry a man who was already married to his job? When they were at college there were days when Ben would suggest they ditch classes and drive out into the country. They would take a picnic and spend hours sat by lakes and in forests. But as college got more serious and work followed, those days had become few and far between.

**Hope everyone had a fabulous Christmas. So this is kind of taking shape in my head, I think Angela is going to be a little more daring in this story than I have written her before but we'll see how it goes xx**


	3. Chapter 3

Thursday passed in a blur. Angela spent the majority of the day sifting through job applications for a new supervisor. She found only three people out of more than forty applications who were anywhere near what she was looking for, she wondered at why the rest had even bothered filling in the form. One had spelt supervisor three different ways in one paragraph.

On her return the house smelled Mediterranean. Ben's car was nowhere to be seen so Angela made her way through to the kitchen feeling a mixture of curiosity and anxiety. Evie was sitting at the breakfast bar reading a gossip magazine, behind her steam rose from saucepans on the hob. She looked up to the doorway over thin-rimmed spectacles.

"Thank goodness, I was worried dinner might spoil if you were much longer,"

"Evie, what are you doing here?"

Evie removed her glasses completely and set them down beside the magazine on the bar, slipping off the stool to stir one of the saucepans.

"Ben rang me, he's going to be in work until late. I said I would come around to cook for you, let you put your feet up,"

Evie bustled over to a cupboard and took out the spaghetti drainer.

"Why didn't he call me?" Angela hated the way she made her feel like a guest in her own home.

"He didn't want to bother you at work. You go through to the dining room, I'll bring it through in a minute, then we can have a nice chat,"

Angela's stomach turned at the thought of it. A "chat" with Evie Simmons generally meant more talking on her part and Angela nodding at the appropriate moments. Reluctantly she walked through to the dining room and took her usual place.

She looked up at the family portrait that hung on the wall above the fireplace. Her parents were notably absent; Evie and Bob had subtly squeezed them out of their social circle, secretly Angela suspected it was because Ben had told them about her father's affair. It concerned her that things she confided in Ben inevitably seemed to find their way into his parents' knowledge in the end.

Evie shuffled in with two plates of steaming pasta and sat next to Angela at the head of the table.

"A young man in Portofino gave me this recipe. You would love Portofino Angela, next time Bob and I take a vacation there you and Ben must join us, there's plenty of space in the villa,"

Angela smiled, quickly returning her focus to the spaghetti she was twirling on to her fork. She was disturbed when Evie reached across to take hold of her hand and inspect the engagement ring.

"I knew it would be the perfect setting," she looked up into Angela's face, "nothing too elaborate but not so plain as to fail to make an impression,"

Angela gently reclaimed her hand and Evie set about eating her meal.

"Ben tells me you plan to marry in the summer,"

"We haven't actually talked about a date yet,"

Evie apparently didn't hear her, "a summer wedding is always pleasant, and social engagements in the summer are more relaxed than in the winter so you and Ben can be introduced in a more leisurely way to the rest of Pittsburgh. You won't have to worry so much about the formalities straight away. Ben will join Bob at the club and you can become a patron of the charitable society with me,"

"You have it all planned,"

"Best to be prepared,"

They continued for a few moments in silence but Angela sensed it might be the calm before the storm.

"My work with the society does take up a significant amount of time," Evie continued, "if you are going to become involved then it might be best that you gave up your job,"

"I'm happy at the library, I don't see why I couldn't do both,"

"Do both, as well as looking after the house and any children that might come along? That's a lot of work. I have been a housewife since the age of twenty two Angela, it's always suited me quite nicely,"

Angela shuddered at the thought, " I quite like a degree of independence Evie, perhaps we're a bit different,"

Evie's face displayed her displeasure with acute clarity.

--

After work on Friday Angela went out to her car. Her dress for the evening hung inside, along with a bag containing her shoes and makeup. She changed quickly in her office and applied some subtle make up at the mirror in the corner. The dress was plain, like everything in her wardrobe these days, but nevertheless her favourite, black, knee length with a bateau neckline and some detailing along the hem. She slipped into the sexiest shoes she owned, burgundy with a stiletto heal, the last time she had worn them was on a date with Ben in college. She had told him she was spending the evening with some friends from the library.

Leaving her car at the library she crossed the street to the supermarket and waited. At length a car pulled up alongside her and the door opened. She climbed inside.

After adjusting her skirt so as not to crease it she looked up and realised Jordan had been observing her.

"You look nice,"

She smiled and reached across to brush a thread from his jacket lapel, "so do you. Are you nervous?"

Jordan smirked and looked down at his lap, "fucking terrified,"

Angela felt an ache in her chest, she reached out once again to squeeze his shoulder. He placed a hand on top of hers, shifting it until it was pressed against his cheek. He held it there, leaning into her touch for a few moments before abruptly dropping it and starting the engine.

"So is there like a theme?" Angela asked as the car pulled out of the parking lot.

"Huh?"

"To the exhibition, is there a theme or is it just all sorts?"

Jordan frowned in thought, "it's sort of about the city,"

"Pittsburgh?"

"No, lots of different cities. Just people I've seen, or views, or skylines, streets, that sort of thing,"

Angela nodded.

The gallery was small but the clientele were distinctly highbrow, and wealthy. They stood in small groups around the gallery space discussing the various pictures and asking questions of the curators. When Jordan and Angela entered and young man in a smart suit quickly dashed toward them with his hand outstretched.

"Jordan,"

"Robert,"

They shook hands.

"This is Angela,"

Robert offered his hand to Angela and she shook it, "nice to meet you Angela," he turned back to Jordan, "two sold already, and plenty more interest,"

Angela absentmindedly took hold of Jordan's hand and squeezed it, "congratulations,"

"He's a very talented young man Angela, you hold on to him,"

Jordan quickly freed his hand from Angela's "oh no, we're not-, we're just friends,"

Robert nodded before turning away to attend to the guests.

Angela looked up at Jordan, "are you going to show me around?"

He smiled and led her over to the first of the pictures, a beautiful pen and ink drawing of a Parisian street. They laughed and whispered to one another as Jordan took her right the way around the gallery, introducing each piece of work and watching Angela's reaction to it, inevitably admiration and praise.

"He was right," she began, as they moved from a Greek island scene to the imposing dome of St Paul's Cathedral, "chairs may be your true passion," she smirked, "but you have a gift for art,"

Jordan chuckled.

"How much for this one?" Angela asked, fingering the frame.

Jordan moved closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing his face close to her neck, "dinner,"

Angela inhaled his scent, "you drive a hard bargain,"

"If you want it, you have to pay the going rate,"

"Robert said you had sold two already, if dinner is the going rate for all your patrons, are you sure you can fit me in?"

She felt his grip around her waist tighten, his hand now resting on her stomach while the other drew a line down from her ear to the edge of her dress. She glanced around in case anyone else was watching but the gallery was so full, and everyone so enamoured with Jordan's work that no one else seemed concerned with them.

"Always," he whispered.

Angela whimpered softly as his lips brushed her neck.

"I have thought about you every day," he continued, "every day,"

"Me too," was all she could muster, barely able to contain either the passion or the pain she felt at Jordan's confession. She felt him sigh, hot breath against her neck, followed by the withdrawal of his arm from around her waist. Angela turned to face him, caressing his cheek lightly, "what's wrong?"

He hesitated, "I just wish I could go back in time. I would have told you properly how I felt about you before you left," his eyes sparkled, "and I would have got you into bed,"

Angela's jaw dropped at his tone, his words laden with lust. Again she checked around them for anyone in close enough proximity that they might hear. Yet it was as though the two of them were invisible, trapped in some sort of tear in reality into which no one else could see.

"I would have given you a first time you'd never forget," he raised an eyebrow.

"Jordan," she whispered, placing a finger over his lips, "you can't say any more,"

He reached up and took hold of her finger between his own, opening his mouth and sucking gently on her fingertip. She quickly drew it away, gasping at the sensation the warmth of his mouth sent through her body.

"Do you love him?"

A young woman carrying a tray of champagne glasses passed close to them and Angela took the opportunity to step away from Jordan to pick one up. She took a swift sip of the champagne and pretended to be admiring the work on the other side of the gallery. She felt a warm hand grasp her arm and tug her back.

"Answer me," Jordan urged, his voice deep and husky.

"Why would you ask me that?"

"I have to know,"

Angela wondered how she had gotten into this situation. She had always played by the book; kept her virginity until college, met a sensible man, got a sensible job, settled down in the suburbs, learned to cook, entertained the in-laws, why now was she faced by this dilemma? Why her?

"Okay, put it another way," he reasoned, "did you ever love me?"

Angela sipped the champagne but Jordan seized both her wrists to prevent her from lifting the glass to her lips a second time.

"Angela,"

"Yes," she whispered, his face so close her nose brushed his, "yes," she repeated, "every day,"

The ten or so minutes it took for Jordan to swiftly navigate them out of the gallery, back to his car and back to his house passed in flashes of indistinct shapes and colour. Angela couldn't be certain whether it was the champagne or just the Catalano effect but by the time she regained focus she was ascending the staircase at Wendsley Avenue, her steps punctuated by Jordan pushing her back against the wall and kissing her so deeply she feared loosing her balance and falling back down the stairs.

Jordan pushed the door open into the bedroom with Angela following close behind, holding tight to his muscular arm as though if she let go some force would propel her away from him back to her chair at the dining table alongside Evie for an eternity of mindless chatter.

The bedroom, in contrast to the rest of the house, was uncluttered and minimalist, dominated by a large wooden bedstead that looked as though it had been carved from some exotic tree.

Jordan swiftly shrugged off his jacket and threw it on to the armchair in the corner. Angela did likewise, laying her coat over his before allowing herself to be pulled against him.

He tenderly pushed her hair back from her face, kissing her forehead, "you smell nice today," he muttered, burying his nose in her hair, "familiar."

Angela closed her eyes, relishing his gentle nuzzling, allowing her head to fall forward against his chest. Slowly, she ran her hands up his body, feeling the hardness of his abs and the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. Her hands continued on their journey until she was wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself even closer to him. She heard Jordan take a shaky breath as the bulge in his pants met her thigh, "Angela," he gasped.

She drew her head away from his chest and covered his mouth with hers, seeking entry with her tongue into the mouth whose taste she had savoured since their last kiss in the hallway. Jordan responded with enthusiasm, meeting her tongue with his and then sucking on her top lip. He guided them toward the bed, falling down on to the soft covers with Angela on top of him.

They giggled as they became entangled in clothes in their efforts to swiftly undress, wanting to touch and caress each area of skin as it was uncovered. Angela fought hard to retain her position on top of Jordan batting away flailing arms and legs, she wriggled down his body to rid him of his boxers and he laughed as she triumphantly lifted them above her head before throwing them across the floor.

Taking advantage of her having freed his upper body Jordan quickly sat up and pulled Angela down on to the bed beside him, kissing all over her breasts before turning his attention to her panties. Slipping his fingers under the waistband he began to pull them down whilst Angela lifted her hips to assist him. Once they were down past her knees Angela slipped one foot out and then kicked the slip of cream silk across the room to join Jordan's boxers, laughing like a teenager.

They both gradually brought their giggles under control, Angela stroking the gentle curves of Jordan's face as he massaged the skin of her inner thigh. She felt his hand move closer and closer to the part of her she thought only Ben would ever touch again, squirming with pleasure when his fingers finally reached their destination. As he slipped first one finger and then two inside her Jordan lowered his face into her neck, kissing and nibbling his way down to her chest before returning to kiss her deeply and stare intently into her eyes as if searching for any hint of rejection or regret.

Angela felt the passion building inside her from the work of his talented fingers. She tried to keep her eyes open, reluctant to break the intoxicating focus between them, but as Jordan rubbed his thumb across her clit she lost the battle, shut her eyes and arched her back, gasping and clutching at Jordan's shoulders as he thrust his fingers into her one last time. As his movements slowed Angela regained control of her breathing and opened her eyes. Jordan grinned down at her as he sucked his fingers clean and moved so that he lay comfortably between her legs, propping himself up on his elbow to stroke her neck just like in high school.

"How did I ever resist you Jordan Catalano?"

He smiled, "as I remember, you didn't always succeed completely,"

Angela flushed.

"If only the world knew just how dirty little Angela Chase could be,"

She smacked him jokingly on the chest, "shut up and fuck me,"

Jordan shut his eyes for a moment, her words doing indescribable things to his already rock hard member. He reached over to the bedside table but Angela stayed his hand.

"No, it's okay,"

He turned back to her "are you sure?"

She nodded, having been taking contraceptive pills since college, she reached under the covers to caress the soft skin of his thigh in encouragement. Jordan needed no further incitement, taking her mouth in a breathtaking kiss and clasping her hand above her head as he pushed into her.

In her mind Angela envisioned a whirlwind passing through her sedate living room, knocking over lamps and side tables, tearing down curtains and smashing Simmons' heirlooms. She imagined the doors of her wardrobe opening and the pastel knitwear inside flying out to be ripped apart by the turbulence. A few days ago her life had seemed like a prison cell, but as Jordan moved inside her she felt as though someone had handed her a key.

Above the sound of her own erratic breathing Angela could hear Jordan whispering words of passion, love and nostalgia into her ear as his body began to tense. Wrapping her legs around him, Angela rode out her own climax, her toes curling with the intensity. She heard Jordan cry out her name as he gradually stilled, resting his head against her chest, unable to move thanks to her legs pinning him in place. She ran her hands through his hair, the ends wet from perspiration.

"I always knew you'd be spectacular," Jordan uttered, lazily stroking her arm.

Angela mustered a throaty laugh as she released Jordan from her grip, allowing him to roll off her, settling instead on his side walking his fingers slowly up her chest and swirling around her nipple. She reached up to touch a scar she had not noticed before, stretching down his side from just below his armpit to the middle of his ribs.

"What's this?"

Jordan didn't flinch, focussing on chasing the drops of moisture adorning Angela's collarbone.

"A fight,"

"With what, a velociraptor?"

"Close," he smirked, "a drunk Rayanne Graff,"

She thought she must has misheard, "what?"

"It wasn't exactly all flowers and love hearts,"

Angela caressed the pale line, slightly raised, that marred his creamy skin. Jordan lay back down on the bed allowing Angela now to be the one to prop herself up and explore his body, though the scar was now safely hidden from her sight by his arm. As she looked down at his relaxed features, his long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, she couldn't imagine what would possibly cause someone to do harm to this man. She wanted to ask questions but at the same time didn't want to spoil the moment any further.

"Don't shut me out," she whispered against his chest, "you don't have to say any more,"

A smile spread across Jordan's face as Angela kissed and licked her way down his torso in an effort to recapture the playful immaturity of earlier. Apparently she succeeded since Jordan was quickly pulling them out of bed, ignoring Angela's gleeful pleas to remain, and bounding across the room in the direction of the bathroom.

He filled the deep pedestal bath with steaming water, pinning Angela against the wall while they waited. He loved how perfectly her figure had filled out since high school; her soft curves were enough to drive him crazy.

They sank into the water together, Angela leaning back into Jordan's arms and resting her head against his shoulder as he cupped handfuls of water and drizzled it down her body. The soothing warmth of the bath served to bring them both slowly back to reality.

"I wish you could stay here forever," Jordan uttered.

Angela turned around, sending water over the sides of the bath. She smiled, picking up a bottle of shampoo from the shelf beside the bath and tipping some into her hand. Jordan tipped his head forward obligingly, allowing Angela to shampoo his hair whilst he giggled like a schoolboy and complained about soap in his eyes. Cupping water in her hands she managed to rinse out the lather, rejoicing in the sight of his fringe slick to his face and dipping into his eyes. With a fiendish grin Jordan proceeded to shake his head vigorously, sending water splashing across the bathroom and over Angela who raised her hands to try and protect herself. Both eventually succumbed to hysterics.

When the water finally cooled, the pair wrapped up in thick jumpers and sat down at the kitchen table with mugs of hot chocolate. Angela looked up at the wall clock, knowing the time was fast approaching when Jordan would have to drive her back to her car.

"Stop looking at that wall clock," Jordan noted.

"Sorry,"

"I've got my eye on it," he leant toward her, "I won't keep you too late,"

Angela scoffed, reminded of evenings spent in Jordan's room kissing and stroking until the last possible moment for Angela to be back home before her curfew.

"Although," he continued, "if I could keep you here all night, I would,"

"We have to accept the reality, it's not that simple,"

"Isn't it?"

"Of course not. I have a fiancé, you have a son,"

"He'd love you," Jordan added quickly, smiling, "I can't imagine a Jordan Catalano not loving Angela Chase,"

Angela wrapped her hands around her mug, half for warmth, half for comfort. "I can't risk what I have for the sake of taking a chance on a high school infatuation,"

Jordan looked hurt, "infatuation? What do you mean by that?"

"Well you read about it all the time, people who find themselves in a difficult situation and they believe that by turning to the past everything will be okay, but some things only really exist in the past, you can't like expect them to be the same now,"

"So you don't love him," he stated flatly.

Angela realised she had said too much, her voice wavered, "I didn't say that,"

"But you're not happy, not with him,"

Why wouldn't she be happy, Ben is everything she could ever wish for? She had been happy at some point, hadn't she? Maybe this was just a temporary glitch.

"Stop it Jordan. Don't ruin tonight, don't-,"

"You're happy with me," he interjected, "you were happy in bed with me I could see it in your eyes. I could always tell when you were truly happy and when it was just a mask,"

"Can't we just not talk about this?" she pleaded.

"You started it,"

"Okay, I shouldn't have,"

--

Jordan drove her back to the supermarket parking lot in silence. It felt just like the night before Angela left for college when Jordan drove her back to her house for the last time. They had agreed it was best that they should break up – not that they were ever officially together – since Angela would need to focus on her studies. Secretly Jordan felt obligated to let her go, to let her be free, seeing as he was stuck in Three Rivers for the foreseeable future with no prospects. Since Jordan had never made clear to Angela the depth of his feelings for her she assumed he was ready to finish the relationship at the end of high school.

Angela climbed out of the car when they reached the supermarket. Jordan joined her between their two cars, snaking an arm around her waist to draw her in for one final kiss.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Me too," she replied, nestling her face in the crook of his neck.

"When can I see you again?"

"Sunday," she replied quickly, "Ben plays golf, he'll be gone all day,"

"Where can I pick you up?"

"Merton Street, opposite the park, say eleven thirty?"

"Got it," he confirmed, then hesitated "Jay goes to a music group on Sunday afternoons, his friend's mom picks him up at midday,"

"Okay, we can make it later,"

"It's not that I-, I just don't want him to get confused. I mean any more than he already is what with his mom and everything,"

"I totally understand, honestly,"

"Okay, so twelve thirty?"

She nodded.

**Thank you for the reviews! xx**


	4. Chapter 4

She showered again when she got home, despite the bath she had shared with Jordan, and threw her clothes straight into the washing machine. Climbing into bed she hoped she wouldn't wake Ben since she didn't feel prepared for the necessary lies quite yet. But in spite of her efforts he stirred and rubbed his eyes.

"Angela?"

"Yeah," she whispered.

Ben turned to check the digital clock next to the bed, "it's three in the morning,"

Adopting a joking tone Angela began to spin the tale, "just because we work in a library doesn't mean we don't like to let our hair down once in a while,"

Ben laughed, "all right, no problem, it's just some of us have paperwork to do tomorrow and have to be up early,"

"Sorry, I was as quiet as I could be,"

He laughed again and patted her arm, like a breeder might pet a prized greyhound, as he settled back down with his back to her. Angela did likewise, turning to face her bedside table and the framed photograph of them at one of Ben's office parties that sat upon it. They looked so happy, but Angela had felt lonely that night, surrounded by people she didn't know and who seemed to have little desire to know her, just smiling and making polite conversation. She imagined falling asleep looking at a framed picture of her and Jordan, with his warm arms wrapped around her and his lips kissing the back of her neck. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

--

By the time Angela opened her eyes Ben was gone. He would be downstairs already sifting through the mountain of paperwork that sat permanently on his desk in the study. She pulled the covers over her head and tried to block out the light, tried to go back to sleep, but the telephone rang.

"Hello?" she answered wearily.

"Hello," replied the voice indignantly, "Angela it's Sharon,"

"Oh, hey,"

"Why the shock Chase face, it's Saturday,"

Sharon rang her every Saturday. She was living on the other side of Pittsburgh with an architect she met whilst at college. Sharon worked as a freelance event planner and had occasionally helped Angela organise events linked to the library.

"Sorry, late night,"

"Yeah? Did you and Ben go out somewhere?"

Angela scoffed sarcastically, "Sharon this is Ben Simmons we're talking about, he hasn't been out on a Friday night since college,"

"Right. So what's new?"

Angela could picture the scene. Sharon would be sitting in her favourite chair in what she called her sunroom – a room with French doors out to the garden – probably sipping a cup of coffee and struggling to cut the crusts off her toast with one hand. She had been a tower of strength for Angela when Rayanne started to go down hill at high school. She never said I told you so.

What would she say about Jordan? Would she try to persuade her it was all a terrible idea, that she should say goodbye and never call him again, that she should forget him. That she should accept her life as it is now and stop yearning for the past.

Or maybe she would be happy for her, encourage her to follow her heart for once rather than her head. After all Sharon had done it herself. At college she met a boy from New York, Johnny, with whom she had a whirlwind romance. They were very quickly engaged and moved in together. Then Sharon met Alex at a student council party, he lectured occasionally at the university and was more than ten years her senior. Angela remembered Sharon's phone calls, explicit detail of her meetings with Alex behind Johnny's back, "he does things to me Angela, makes me feel things I never dreamt I could feel." A few months later Sharon ended her engagement and moved in with Alex. She never spoke to Johnny again.

"Not much I guess," Angela replied.

"You guess, so there is something?"

Angela winced but perhaps subconsciously had meant to be vague so that Sharon would ask that very question, "Sharon, are you free for lunch today? I'd rather speak in person,"

"Yeah I'm free, meet you at Jacques at one?"

"Great,"

--

She saw her from a distance, her now dark red hair blowing across her face as she stopped to cross the road. Angela sipped her coffee, her second cup. The door of the restaurant opened and Sharon joined her at their usual table by the window.

"Sorry I'm late, the cat was sick,"

Sharon swiftly removed her coat and took her seat opposite Angela, picking up the menu to take a closer look – though she always ordered the Niçoise salad.

"I think I'll have the Niçoise," she mused.

Angela smiled to herself, it seemed that Sharon's order at Jacques was one of the few things in her life Angela could rely upon to be unchanging.

"So," Sharon began, pouring herself a glass of water from the jug in the middle of the table, "what's up?"

Angela took a deep breath, "shall we order first?"

"Okay,"

Sharon beckoned the waiter over, the same waiter who was normally there most days they went for lunch at Jacques. He was tall, with dark hair, green eyes and a stern expression, though he was perfectly cheery once he got talking. They gave him their order, which he hardly needed to write down since it was the same almost every time they came, and disappeared into the kitchen.

"Come on, something must be bothering you for you to suggest lunch on a Saturday. Don't you usually go shopping on a Saturday?"

"Groceries can wait,"

"And this can't, must be serious?"

Angela leant toward her and lowered her voice almost to a whisper, "I saw Jordan,"

Sharon's face lit up, "Jordan!" she exclaimed.

"Shhh," Angela urged.

"What? Just because you've obsessed about him since tenth grade doesn't mean everyone in Pittsburgh knows who Jordan Catalano is,"

"Jordan Catalano?"

The pair looked up in unison at the familiar waiter standing beside their table holding a collection of cutlery.

"I have one of his pieces in my kitchen," he began, setting the cutlery down on the table.

His comment was met with blank, slightly startled faces.

"His chairs, he makes chairs. Jordan Catalano," the waiter explained.

"Yeah," Angela said weakly.

"Good designs," he concluded, crossing the restaurant to serve another table.

When the shock had subsided Sharon was the first to break the silence, "okay, maybe not," she lowered her voice, "Jordan designs chairs?"

"Yeah, he's like an artist or a designer or something,"

"A good one by the sounds of things,"

"I guess so, I mean he took me to this gallery the other night where they were-,"

"What?" Sharon hissed, "you've been out with him? Like on your own?"

"Just once,"

"When you said you'd seen him I thought you meant bumped into him randomly at

the mall, spotted him at a traffic light, not actual premeditated meetings,"

"Meeting, singular," Angela corrected.

The waiter returned with their dishes, offering them a shy smile. Both women stared into their salads as though there were answers and explanations hiding amongst the leaves. Sharon could sense there was more to the story, she knew Angela too well; she was twisting her fork slowly in her salad.

"So he took you to a gallery?"

Angela looked up at her, knowing Sharon would need very few clues in order to piece together the whole story.

"Oh,"

"Yes, oh," Angela repeated.

A smirk formed on Sharon's lips, "was he-, I mean was it how you imagined?"

Angela smiled in spite of herself, unable to contain the delirium she felt at the memories of her evening with Jordan.

"Do you remember," Sharon whispered, "when we used to sit in your room and talk about him, I mean when you and him started messing around?"

"It was incredible Sharon, I've never felt-, I mean I never thought I could feel like that,"

Sharon grinned knowingly.

"But it's complicated,"

"Look, Angela, Ben is a nice guy, sincere, nicely set in his job, but you can't honestly say that you love-,"

Angela interrupted her by placing her hand on the table next to Sharon's salad, the engagement ring catching the winter sunlight coming through the window.

"Is that what I think it is?"

Angela nodded and the smile disappeared from Sharon's face.

"When?"

"A few days ago,"

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I didn't want to tell anyone, I didn't know how, it seemed so unreal,"

Angela watched Sharon push a cherry tomato around her plate. She needed a straight answer, she needed someone to tell her what she should think, what she should do. But she was terrified of Sharon giving her the wrong answer, if there was a right answer.

"It was only once though," Sharon began, "I mean you had a weak moment no one has been hurt. It was nostalgia, just nostalgia, you could put it down to a lapse in concentration,"

"Except," Angela began, "I've arranged to meet him again tomorrow,"

"Angela,"

"But you wouldn't believe it Sharon, how mature he is, how great he is with his son, but still with that vulnerability, you know?"

"A son?" Sharon's eyes were wide; hardly able to believe the story could have gotten even more complex.

"Yes, he has a son now,"

"Oh my God Angela, this is too much, I mean is he in a relationship too?"

"No, it's just the two of them." Angela decided it would be a step too far to inform Sharon that the mother of Jordan's child was Rayanne Graff.

"Angela,"

"What? You were ready to tell me to go for it earlier. I mean you did,"

Sharon looked down at her bare ring finger that once wore Johnny's engagement ring, "I was young Angela, impulsive, getting engaged to Johnny was a mistake. I was meant to be with Alex,"

"Maybe I want to be impulsive. I mean what have I ever done that's been crazy or daring? All I've ever done is be mature about things, be sensible. I carried on dating Ben after college because people said he was safe, he was steady and reliable. What about passion, adventure?"

Sharon sighed, "it seems like you've already made your decision,"

Angela looked up, "but I don't want to hurt Ben,"

Sharon raised her eyebrows and shrugged as if to convey to Angela the inevitability of someone getting hurt by her actions. Deep down Angela knew stories like this rarely ended well for either party; resentment, anger, regret, she couldn't possibly hope to believe that she could conduct an affair with Jordan without hurting either him or Ben in some way, not to mention Jay.

Angela left Sharon at the restaurant and headed to the supermarket to pick up the groceries. She wandered around in daze; unable to remember whether or not she needed tomatoes, washing powder, paper napkins. Did Ben use the blue-topped toothpaste or the green top? Her head felt fuzzy, all she could think about was meeting Jordan on Sunday, wondering what they would talk about, and what they would do. As a result she returned home with a hotchpotch of shopping, flustered and frustrated.

"Erm Angela, since when do we buy apple and raspberry tea?" Ben lifted the item out of the bag and showed it to her.

"Oh, sorry I guess I was a little distracted,"

"Everything okay?"

She nodded, "uh huh, just a headache,"

"Why don't I make us some lunch?" he asked, moving toward her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

She rested her head against his shoulder, "thanks but I ate out with Sharon,"

Ben moved away, so fast Angela almost lost her balance. He disliked Sharon, for no apparent reason other than that she shared such a close relationship with Angela.

"We can have dinner together tonight,"

"I just thought it would be nice for us to have lunch together since we never get the chance during the week,"

"Maybe next weekend?"

Ben seemed not to have heard her, leaving the room. She heard the door to the study close with some force and knew she would most likely not see him again today. He had these flashes of anger occasionally. He never had them at college, at least not that Angela ever experienced, but recently he had begun getting angry more often, seeming to swing from affectionate to exasperated in record time. It was as though he was gradually becoming another person, someone Angela didn't altogether recognise. Her heart ached when she thought back to their time at college, how quiet and unassuming Ben was, how safe she felt with him. She cursed life and its complications.

That evening Angela was sitting up reading when Ben finally came to bed. He entered the room sheepishly and climbed slowly into the bed beside her. She could sense he was trying to think what to say, she pretended not to notice looking only down at the pages of her book. After a minute or two of silence he reached across placed his hand upon hers.

"I'm sorry,"

She turned and smiled at him, rubbing the edge of his hand with her finger.

"It's okay, I should have told you I was meeting Sharon. We can have lunch next weekend, or maybe we could go out for dinner one night this week if you're not in work too late,"

He sighed and lay down, turning away from her. She toyed with the idea of stroking his back, the lightly tanned skin looked soft and she imagined how warm it would be to lie close to him. But she knew it would only end in rejection, she had tried before to be affectionate toward him but when he was in this sort of mood he usually viewed it as an annoyance.

--

On Sunday morning Angela watched Ben's car pull out of the driveway. It felt as though a host of butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach and for a moment she felt queasy. Ben had apologised again in the morning and promised he would make time to take her out for a meal the next week. He kissed her forehead before leaving for his weekly golf meeting.

She walked back upstairs slowly, clinging to the handrail for support. Once in her bedroom she relaxed, lying down on the bed and closing her eyes. Was it that she really loved him? Or was it just that she had known nothing else for so long that the possibility of unsettling the status quo frightened her? Whatever the answer she had already gone too far for it all to simply go back to the way it was. Jordan Catalano had found his way back into her life, and she into his.

With a strange sense of trepidation Angela changed and began the walk to Merton Street.

She waited on the corner, shivering in the winter breeze, and watched the parents pushing their children on the swing and standing arm-in-arm as they mounted the little climbing wall.

She recognised Jordan's car as it turned the corner of the street and pulled up alongside her. The passenger door opened and Angela quickly glanced around before climbing inside. She was greeted with a wide smile and a hand on her knee, warm and comforting after the chilly street.

"I wasn't sure you'd be there after-,"

"I said I would be didn't I?"

"I thought maybe you would change your mind or something,"

Once again struck by his innate ability to seemingly read her thoughts, Angela found it almost impossible to conceal her worries, "no." Almost impossible. "So what do you have planned?"

He grinned, "wait and see,"

Just like that, with a smile and a glance that could melt stone, everything seemed right again. Angela relaxed back in her seat and watched the wintery cityscape pass by until it turned to countryside and finally the car came to a halt.

"Oh my God," Angela smiled as she recognised their destination.

"Do you remember?"

"Of course I remember,"

She climbed out, her feet meeting frosty grass. Before them flowed one of the three rivers that gave their childhood home its name. At the edges the water was frozen and plants leaning too far over the riverbank found their lowermost leaves and twigs captured in the ice. The trees that bent over the water were lightly covered with the snow that had fallen the night before and a sole picnic bench sat beside the banks was also gently dusted with white.

The place was familiar to both of them. Jordan had come here as a child with his parents and fished in the river when it flowed freely. He had brought Angela here years later and they had sat together on the picnic bench and talked about things that neither of them ever expected they would divulge to anyone.

As Angela remembered that time years ago she felt a hand grasp hers and allowed Jordan to lead her to the picnic bench, bringing with him a bag of food and a bottle of wine.

"Wow, we got sophisticated," Angela laughed as Jordan took out the wine, "I seem to remember last time it was hotdogs and beer,"

Jordan grinned before producing two bottles of beer from the bag too, "I got all the bases covered,"

Angela laughed as he brushed the snow from the bench with his coat sleeve and indicated that she should sit down.

"What else you got in there?" she asked, curious, pulling the edge of the bag down to sneak a peak inside. She raised her eyebrows, "how long are you planning on staying?"

Jordan lent in toward her placing a gentle kiss on her neck, "forever, " he whispered.

"You should have got more beer," Angela scoffed.

Jordan took the bottles and opened them by hand, passing one to Angela and taking a long drink from the other. She watched his throat swallow down the cool liquid, how his hair fell against the collar of his coat.

"You know my mom would die if she knew you were taking a drink before driving me home,"

Jordan lowered the bottle and rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth, "It's just one, and anyway they'll be time for it to wear off." He wrapped an arm around Angela's shoulders and pulled her against him. "Do you remember the last time we were here?"

"Of course,"

"I told you things Angela then that," he sighed, "I had never told anybody,"

"I did things here that I never thought I would do with anybody," she scoffed.

Jordan let out a throaty laugh, "I remember. I was kinda hoping for a repeat performance,"

Angela looked up at his smirking face and slapped his shoulder playfully, "it was summer then,"

"My car has a heater,"

"What about the food?"

"Call it working up an appetite,"

Jordan slid down off the bench, pulling Angela with him as she feigned protest.

"No, I like it out here," she laughed.

Jordan pulled harder, pleading with her to come to the car with him. But his pleas only led to further playful denial from Angela. Eventually she managed to free her hand from his, but having been using his weight to try to pull her off the bench, Jordan lost his balance and tumbled backwards off the edge of the riverbank and into the water.

Angela immediately jumped off the wooden bench and to the water's edge, "oh my God, Jordan!"

Jordan thrashed around in the water, taken aback by his fall and chilled to the bone by the freezing temperature.

"Angela, don't come in," he cried amid rapid frozen breaths as he tried to fight the current.

Angela looked around helplessly for any passer by who could help her but there wasn't a soul for miles and she knew it.

Jordan struggled to take deep breaths as the cold took hold of him and panic inhibited his attempts to swim to the bank. What's more his clothes were getting heavier as they took on the weight of the water making his efforts doubly worthless.

Thinking quickly, Angela picked up a solid-looking fallen tree branch. Using a tree root sticking out of the bank for a secure footing Angela carefully lent out over the water and held the branch out to Jordan. With him kicking and Angela using the tree root as leverage to pull him toward the bank they were together able to get Jordan back on dry land.

Immediately Angela took off her coat and wrapped it around Jordan's shoulders as he gasped for breath and clung to her.

"Oh my God," she whispered as she tightened her grip around him and willed the heat from her body to pass to his. When his breathing had calmed a little she took the car keys from beside the food bag and helped him to the car, setting him down on the back seat before starting the engine and turning on the heaters. She climbed into the back and pulled him against her once more, quickly working to rid him of his wet clothes as the car heated up. When she had stripped him to the waist she wrapped her coat around him once more, along with her cardigan and scarf, and rubbed his hands with hers to try and bring them back to life.

"I knew," he began, his breathing steadying now, "I would get you in the backseat somehow," he laughed a little, "you can't resist me,"

"Jordan," she uttered as she rested her head on top of his, running her hands through his wet hair, "you loser,"

Jordan laughed again, stronger this time as the warmth was returning to his limbs.

"You'll do anything to impress me,"

He laughed again, reaching up to stroke Angela's face. She lent down to him and gently kissed his lips, still cool. His hand moved from her face into her hair as he pushed himself up to meet her face to face, deepening the kiss and running his hand from her hair to her shoulders and on down her back.

Angela broke the kiss, "are you warmer?"

Jordan nodded, "getting there,"

She gently pushed his wet hair back from his face and playfully tapped the tip of his nose. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen, no one had ever compared to him, an irresistible combination of strength and vulnerability. But with a heart too, as big as an ocean.

She felt his hands reaching down for the bottom of her sweater and willingly raised her arms to allow him to pull it off leaving her in just a tank top. Leaning in, Jordan placed kisses along her collarbone and down to the gentle mounds of her breasts. Angela turned her then head to allow Jordan full access to her neck and she smiled contentedly. Her gaze eventually fell upon the scar down Jordan's side, a reminder of the time that had passed since they were last here. A low moan from Jordan brought her back to the present.

"Is it just me or was there more room in my old car?"

Angela smiled, "you having trouble?"

Jordan manoeuvred himself to a position where he was able to undo his jeans and push them off his hips. Angela took hold of the ends of the legs and tugged as best she could, giggling when her efforts nearly sent Jordan tumbling off the edge of the backseat. He quickly scrambled back to her, seizing her by the waist and tugging her trousers down with eager enthusiasm. When they were both freed from the constraints of their clothes Jordan laid over Angela and gently stroked her jaw line.

"Does this make me a slut? I mean sex in the back of a car?" she smirked.

"Pretty much," he replied.

Angela pretended to consider this, "guess it makes you one too then,"

Jordan joined her in feigning contemplation, "yeah, we're a dirty pair,"

Angela snorted, embarrassing herself, and hid her face in Jordan's armpit as she was overcome with giggles. Jordan took advantage of the moment to slip between her thighs. When Angela felt him pressing against her the laughter subsided.

"You're beautiful," Jordan ran a finger across her bottom lip.

By the time Jordan emerged from the car a fresh fall of snow had covered their food bag and nicely chilled the wine. He returned to the back seat, where Angela was wrapped in her coat, and uncorked the bottle.

"I'm afraid I forgot the glasses,"

Angela smiled, taking the bottle from him while Jordan took out the rest of the food. They spent the entire afternoon there in Jordan's backseat talking and making love, listening to the radio and telling secrets. When it came time to leave Jordan put on his t-shirt that had been drying next to the heater, and drove Angela back to Merton Street. She struggled to conceal her dejection at having to part from him again.

"Listen, I'm going away for a few days,"

Angela looked up at him, confused, "when?"

"Next weekend. It's an interior design company in New York; they want to stock some of my designs in their store. I have to go and meet them,"

"But I want to see you next weekend,"

"Come with us,"

"Us?"

"Jay's coming with me,"

"But I thought you said you didn't want me to meet him?"

"I know but we could tell him you were there to help me,"

Angela smiled, "like a personal assistant?"

"Sort of," Jordan returned her smile, "so, can you come? We could see the city together,"

"I don't know, can I call you later this week?"

Jordan nodded. Angela couldn't resist kissing him once more but as their lips parted and she turned to look up at them together in the rear view mirror she noticed a familiar car coming along the street.

"Oh my God," she quickly buried her face in Jordan's lap.

"Woah," was his natural reaction.

After a moment she sat back upright, "I have to go,"

"Who were you hiding from?"

"My in-laws. I mean-, Ben's parents,"

She kissed him deeply before swiftly climbing out of the car and sadly making her way back to her home.

--

Evie and Bob were already sipping drinks in the living room by the time Angela entered. Ben was sitting in an armchair looking through a brochure.

"Angela, what perfect timing," Evie stood to greet her.

"Hello Evie, Bob, nice to see you,"

She crossed the room and kissed Ben on the cheek, eying the brochure in his hands and she did so.

"I brought a the brochure for Lone Oak Hall for you to look through Angela, they do beautiful ceremonies in the library there, it would be perfect for you two,"

Angela tried to look enthusiastic, "it's beautiful,"

"A young man at the boat club got married there last year, couldn't do enough for you," Bob added.

"It must be popular," Angela suggested.

"Of course," Evie agreed, "but I rang them this afternoon and they have a date in April free. I asked them about July and August but they're totally booked up,"

Ben looked up at Angela, clearly impressed by his mother's initiative.

"Perfect," Angela smiled.

**Sorry it's been a while since my last update. I moved house so I had no internet, and there was also the little matter of two 30STM shows to recover from xx**


	5. Chapter 5

"You look nice,"

Ben lingered in the doorway watching as Angela brushed her hair.

"Thank you,"

They were expected at the hotel in less than an hour but it wouldn't take long to get there and people rarely arrived on time for these things anyway. Ben walked over to the bed and picked up his coat and the present Angela had wrapped for him that afternoon – a book about hiking in national parks.

"It's okay isn't it? The gift?"

Angela smiled, "yeah, what fifty-five year old doesn't love walking and stuff?"

"True. Walking and stuff? Glad to see you putting that English Lit degree to good use," he mocked.

"It's my day off," Angela retorted.

"Ready to go in ten minutes?"

"We'll see," joked Angela as she tugged in frustration at her unusually unruly hair.

Ben smiled before disappearing downstairs. No sooner had he turned his back than Angela allowed her shoulders to slump and the look of semi-contentment slip from her face. She hated these buttoned-up dinners, and cursed the fact that they seemed to have a similar occasion – whether a birthday or an anniversary - lined up every two weeks or so for the next four months. As she dwelt on how many more of her evenings she would have to spend bored out of her mind she remembered Jordan's invitation to New York. She turned her attention – abandoning her hair, which she deemed beyond recovery - to the formation of some sort of story that would allow her a weekend away without raising Ben's suspicions. She ran over several elaborate narratives in her mind; a long lost relative in hospital, a business trip? Then it hit her, the most obvious story imaginable.

"Wow, I am marrying one beautiful woman,"

Ben grinned as Angela entered the kitchen in her knee length royal blue shift dress. He approached her, resting a hand on her hip and touching the small diamond pendant that hung against her breastbone.

"When I take over the company, and turn it around. I'm going to buy you the most ridiculously expensive jewellery,"

"Over the top doesn't suit me Ben, you know that,"

"I just want to treat you to something special,"

Angela smiled, disguising her sadness at how far Ben had come from the unassuming boy she had fallen for at college. That boy had known the things that were truly special, and they didn't include jewellery. She wound her arms around him and hoped for a moment that by doing so she could resurrect something of that youthful spirit, not yet corrupted by materialism and wealth. Ben responded warmly, wrapping one arm around her waist while the other hand stroked her long hair against her back.

"If your father makes you a partner, I guess you will be working even harder,"

"Greater responsibility inevitably brings more work, although it would mean I could take time off whenever I wanted,"

Angela giggled, "you don't know what time off means,"

Ben pulled out of the hug and looked down at his wife to be, "I have ambition Angela, ambition takes work,"

His tone was cold and to the point.

"I was thinking," she began, "I might go to New York next weekend, look at some wedding dresses,"

Ben's face lit up at the suggestion, "that's a wonderful idea,"

"You wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not, maybe you could ask my mother to go with you,"

Angela's legs nearly crumpled beneath her at the thought, "I think it would be a little short notice for her, she's probably got plans. Anyway I already asked Sharon. She'll be my maid of honour after all and I trust her opinion. Not that I don't trust your mom," she faltered, "just that her ideas might be a little different from what I have in mind,"

"Don't worry, she won't be offended. I understand, of course you want to take your friend,"

The air returned to Angela's lungs.

"What sort of dress do you have in mind?"

She smacked his chest playfully, "like I'm going to tell you. Shouldn't we get going?"

The birthday party was held at one of Pittsburgh's biggest hotels, the sort of place where a sixteen arm Waterford crystal chandelier just sort of blends in. The luxury had excited Angela to begin with. The first time Ben had taken her to one of his parents' parties she had been overwhelmed by the world he had introduced her to. She shuddered at how easily she had been seduced by it all when now it all seemed so fake and shallow. She thought of Jordan. His life seemed so pure and honest in comparison with all of this decadence. It was just him and Jay, their warm home and … a lot of chairs. She smiled at the thought of how beautiful it was that Jordan had found something that brought him contentment. Then she longed to be with him, to be out of this too-expensive dress and uncomfortable shoes, to be curled up with him listening to music or just listening to him speak.

Ben led Angela through to the function room, which had been decked out with balloons and banners for the birthday party. They presented their gift to Howard Merchess, who had been an employee of the firm since before Bob Simmons' father retired.

"Thank you Ben, this is excellent," Howard smiled, flicking through the pages of the book.

"We're glad you like it. Is that one from Betty?" Ben indicated to a large flat item half wrapped in its paper.

Howard's wife Betty beamed with pride as Howard collected the gift from beside the table to show off to Ben, "yes, she knows what I've been after."

As he removed the remainder of the wrapping paper Angela could have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

"It's by a young artist. I love how free it is, as though he doesn't care,"

"Yes excellent," Ben nodded, though Angela doubted he really saw what Howard was talking about.

The signature was as clear as day, J. Catalano, in the bottom left corner beneath an intricately pencilled Parisian church. A smirk snuck across Angela's face, fate was having a fun time messing with her life.

"You need to look at it quite closely to see the detail," Howard urged.

Ben stepped closer and urged Angela to do likewise. It seemed almost perverted to be standing next to her fiancé studying, in all its intricacy, an artwork by a man who only a matter of days ago had made love to her more times than she could count in the backseat of his car. She imagined Jordan poring over the drawing, paying attention to every aspect of the scene he was creating, caressing the canvas, running his finger down a harsh line of charcoal to soften it. She felt her face turn red and forced herself to step back and turn away, pretending to look over at the other guests arriving. Her attention was caught by Betty, who offered her a knowing smile that seemed to mask something more sinister. Angela felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach.

Later in the evening, after dinner and a rather sentimental speech by Bob Simmons, Angela found herself alone with Betty a their table. Betty was generally a kindly looking woman, Angela had met her a few times before at similar occasions and Christmas parties. She had been a schoolteacher in her youth and had travelled to Africa to work in a rural village school, she often wore something like a shawl or a piece of jewellery that she had bought or been given during her time there. Angela considered leaving the table to seek out Sharon. Her company had organised the birthday party and she knew she would be somewhere shouting at waiters for not having their shirts tucked in.

"Do you like the picture?"

Betty leaned toward her.

Angela smiled, "it's very beautiful, a lovely present,"

"Are you a fan of the artist?

Attempting to look nonchalant, Angela raised her eyebrows and pleaded ignorance, "what was his name again?"

"Catalano,"

"I can't say I'm all that familiar with-,"

"It mustn't have been you who I saw then?"

"Hmmm?"

Betty took a sip of her sherry, "I bought the picture at a gallery in town when they had a drinks reception for the artist, I'd seen which picture I wanted on the internet. I could have sworn I saw you there." She gazed at Angela for a few moments, clearly attempting to somehow align her image to the memory of the woman in her head, "ah, I must have been mistaken," she shook her head.

"I think you must have, I'm really not very knowledgeable when it comes to art,"

"Yes," Betty mused.

A little later, Angela found Sharon near the kitchens, observing the chef putting the finishing touches to the birthday cake. She smiled when she saw Angela approaching.

"How's it all going through there?" Sharon asked, a little stressed.

"It's all great, everyone's having a good time,"

Sharon sighed, "it's been chaos back here, the catering company sent me three spotty teens supposedly to help serve the food, two of which I caught goofing in the parking lot and the other has dropped two very expensive bottles of champagne,"

Angela had to laugh; she couldn't help it, after the tension of her conversation with Betty she needed to let it out.

"Well I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," Sharon scoffed.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry you're staff isn't up to your standards,"

"So what brings you back here?"

"No reason, I just wanted to see you,"

Sharon smiled, knowing there was more to it. Best friends since childhood always knew when there was more to it, she lowered her voice to a whisper, "is it Jordan? You've seen him again haven't you?"

"No,"

"Then why did you blush when I said his name?"

Angela blushed again, Sharon giggled.

"He's asked me to go to New York with him for the weekend. I've told Ben I'm going to look at wedding dresses. I told him you're coming too,"

"What?" Sharon half laughed, "you are joking,"

"I'll pay for you to go,"

"It's not the money Angela. You could have asked me before you told Ben, what if I can't go?"

"You can go can't you?"

"Yes, I can go. You're lucky I don't have anything planned,"

Sharon's tone was sharp; it made Angela feel like a little girl you'd just eaten the last cookie from the jar.

"Actually it might be quite be useful this weekend, I have a couple of firms in New York I've been meaning to talk to,"

Angela risked a smile, knowing her friend wasn't really angry.

"So, I mean, you're not actually going through with the wedding any more are you?"

Angela thought for a moment. The idea of not going through with the wedding filled her with a sense of exhilaration but at the same time she couldn't imagine embarrassing Ben like that. After all it wasn't his fault that no one would ever compare with Jordan Catalano. But it was too late to end it without embarrassment of some sort, and recrimination.

"Angela?"

"I don't know,"

"How are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know, Sharon can we not talk about this now?"

But Angela knew it was a question that needed an answer.

"Well, regardless of that, there wouldn't be any harm in trying on a few dresses would there?" grinned Sharon.

Sharon rang the day before to tell Angela she had to take a later flight. She claimed it was due to last minute work commitments but Angela knew it was more that she didn't fancy the idea of being shut in an aluminium tube with her and Jordan and all their baggage, literal or otherwise.

Angela took a taxi to the airport and waited outside the terminal. She was nervous. The thought of lying to Ben, especially when it had to do with the wedding she was regretting agreeing to, caused her stomach to turn. It made her feel sick. How had she become that woman, the sort who would treat a man who had given her years of his life like a plaything? Then she thought about Jay, the poor little boy caught in the middle of Jordan and Rayanne's strange and violent pairing. How would she ever be able to look at him without thinking of Rayanne and what might have become of her. And then there was Jordan. The boy she had lusted after and the man who had seemingly from nowhere appeared to save her from a life of tedium.

Another taxi pulled up almost right in front of her. She saw Jordan climb out of the door on the opposite side and pay the driver. Through the window she could see the face of the little boy from the Sunny Days Kindergarten looking out at her. She could hear Jordan counting out bills and joking with the driver on the other side of the car. The little boy continued to stare at her until finally the corners of his mouth turned up and he raised a hand to place against the glass. Angela couldn't help but smile and wave - a little awkwardly – back at him.

When she looked up she saw Jordan looking back at her, a knowing smile on his own features. He came around the taxi and opened the back door for Jay, who happily jumped down, turning to collect his small rucksack.

"You remember I mentioned Angela, Jay? I said she'd been coming with us to New York,"

"I remember," the little boy replied, "I like your sweater,"

Angela scoffed, looking down at the soft v-neck jumper, embellished with a picture of a cat, that she always wore for flying since it kept her just the right temperature. "Thanks, I like your sneakers,"

"My dad painted the pictures on them,"

"Did he?"

"Come on," urged Jordan, shepherding the pair toward the terminal entrance, "you two can compare wardrobes later, we have a plane to catch,"

"Have you ever been on a plane before Angela?" Jay asked as they made their way toward the check-in desk.

"A couple of times," she replied.

"I've never been,"

"No?"

"Is it scary?"

"No," Angela began as they came to a halt at one of the lines of people, "it's like magic," she bent down so that she could speak to Jay at his own level. "You look down and you can see all of the countryside beneath you. The cars are like tiny little insects on the roads and the Statue of Liberty, well it'll just look like a toy from the sky,"

"But all the same will you sit next to me please?"

"Of course I will," Angela nodded, tears pricking her eyes.

As she straightened up and turned away to wipe a stray tear from her face she felt Jordan take hold of her hand.

Before they got on the plane Angela decided she should call Ben. He had told her it would be nice to hear that everything was okay and the flight was leaving on time, but when she tried his phone there was no reply. She tried again a few minutes later, thinking perhaps he was away from his desk, but there was still no answer.

They didn't have to wait very long before their flight was called. They settled down into their seats on the plane, with Jay in the middle and Angela by the window. She looked out at the taxiway and the Pittsburgh skyline beyond, and just for one moment she imagined never returning.

"Hey,"

She turned on hearing Jordan's voice.

"You okay?"

She nodded.

"I thought you said you weren't afraid?" added Jay.

"I'm not,"

"You look like a ghost," he remarked.

Angela attempted a laugh, "well, maybe I might be a little nervous,"

Jay, who was holding tightly to Jordan's hand, reached for Angela's and placed it on top of his own. She felt Jordan entwine his fingers with hers.

By the time they arrived at their hotel it was well past Jay's bedtime. He had fallen asleep in the taxi and Jordan carried him up to their room. Angela followed close behind; she had the room next door with Sharon, who had called to say her flight had just landed. Jordan tucked Jay in while Angela sat out on the little balcony. She could hear Jay's sleepy voice asking if he had missed seeing the Statue of Liberty. Jordan assured him it had been too cloudy. Then, to her surprise, Angela heard the soft sound of Jordan singing. It was very quiet so she had to strain to hear it over the traffic below, but she was certain it was him. Eventually the sound stopped and shortly after she heard Jordan step out on to the balcony.

"Jay is an amazing little boy,"

Jordan smiled as he sat down opposite her.

"He's so clever, the way he talks," Angela continued.

"I just try to be with him as much as I can. I don't want him to turn out useless like me,"

Angela leant forward and placed a hand on his knee, "I never thought that,"

"Well, I want him to be able to do whatever he wants and be whatever he wants to be. I don't want him to have to struggle like I did,"

Angela pushed herself further forward off her chair and kissed him. He reached around and pulled her on to his lap. She gently stroked his face, lit perfectly by the city lights as he closed his eyes and unconsciously licked his lips.

"I don't think I'm going to want to let you go back after this weekend," he whispered.

Angela paused, "let's not think about that yet, let's just enjoy the time we have,"

"For now," Jordan concluded, opening his eyes and stealing a passionate kiss.

"I should go, Sharon will be here by now,"

Jordan stared intently at her neck, running his finger up and down her jaw line "I can't believe you're going to be sleeping right next door," he looked up at her, eye brow raised, "with another woman,"

Angela burst out laughing, slapping him on the shoulder and pushing herself off his lap, "that's enough Catalano, I'll see you in the morning,"

"Not if I see you first,"

Angela, still grinning, left Jordan on the balcony. Inside Jay lay fast asleep on the large double bed clinging to a soft piece of colourful material. Something about the colours and the pattern sparked a memory in Angela's mind and after a few moments she recognised it as Rayanne's scarf. She took a sharp intake of breath and found herself temporarily frozen to the spot. Life only returned to her limbs when she felt a hand on her hip and Jordan's breath against her neck.

"Last time I heard she was doing ok," he whispered, sensing Angela's concern.

"Heard? From who?"

"From Tino,"

Angela nodded, feeling a little guilty that even the ever useless and frequently absent Tino had managed to keep tabs on Rayanne's whereabouts.

"Go to bed," he uttered, rubbing his nose against her skin like a puppy might do on sensing its owner's apprehension.

Angela turned and wrapped her arms around him, seeking out his familiar scent and the comforting feel of his thin cotton tee. After embracing him for as long as she dared, Angela stepped back leaving only her left hand resting on his chest. Jordan took her hand in his and lifted it up so it was in view of them both. He stared intently at the engagement ring.

"Take it off," he said simply.

Slowly, Angela took hold of the sizeable item of jewellery and pulled it from her finger. She held it out to him.

"I can't take it,"

"You wanted me to take it off, so you can look after it,"

Jordan took it and looked closely at it, "I would never have chosen this for you,"

"I know," Angela replied simply, "I'll see you in the morning,"

She found Sharon in the room next door unpacking her small suitcase, which seemed to house an extraordinary amount of clothing.

"Sharon we're here for the weekend,"

"I know, I just like to be prepared. So were you two just hanging out next door or what?"

Angela scoffed, "his son was asleep in the same room, we were just talking,"

"I saw Ben before I left,"

"What?"

"He wanted to know why you'd gone on ahead of me if we were supposed to be having a girlie weekend,"

"What did you tell him?"

"What could I tell him? I said I insisted you go on ahead because I didn't want to mess you around or something," Sharon focused on refolding her clothes on the bed, "it didn't feel all that good, lying to him,"

"Like you didn't lie to Johnny when you were seeing Alex," Angela scoffed.

Sharon picked up the small pile of clothes and took them over to the wardrobe, "when we were in school I warned you about Jordan Catalano, I said you could get hurt, and what happened? Hmm?"

"Oh shut up. It wasn't a few days ago you were telling me to run off with him,"

"I never said that,"

"You didn't exactly _warn _me off him,"

"Well maybe I should have,"

"Why are you suddenly being like this?" something clicked in Angela's mind "are you jealous?"

"No!"

"Yes you are, you don't like that it's me having the adventure, you want to ruin it,"

"Don't be stupid,"

Sharon, having finished transferring her clothes to the wardrobe, pushed open the door into the bathroom and set about removing her make up.

"You miss the drama don't you?" Angela continued, standing in the doorway, "you miss the attention. The shine has worn off and you're jealous,"

Sharon splashed water on her face and dabbed her skin dry with a fluffy towel, "it's only natural. They don't call it a spark for nothing - it doesn't last forever. So yes maybe I am a little jealous, but only because I know what it feels like. The nervous excitement, the feeling that what you're doing may be wrong but that you just can't help it. But even if you were to leave Ben and be with Jordan you would finish up in the same place. Because it's nothing to do with him or Ben, it's you Angela,"

Angela woke early from restless sleep. She pulled open the door onto the little balcony overlooking the Manhattan streets, still busy despite the early hour. The bitter morning air felt good to her clammy skin.

"Get back inside, you'll catch your death,"

Angela turned to see the silhouette of a young man sitting on the balcony of his own room, just a few feet away.

"What are you doing awake?" she asked into the darkness.

"I always wake early, have done since I was a kid. You wouldn't know that, since you've never spent a night with me,"

She could hear him moving on the next balcony, though his form was only very dimly lit and not at all clear. Then something soft hit her on the head and draped over her folded arms.

"Don't want you sneezing,"

Angela slipped her arms into the warmth of Jordan's bathrobe and tied the belt around her waist. She heard the chair legs scrape against the floor of the other balcony and when she looked up Jordan was leaning against the metal railings, close enough now for Angela to make out his features.

"You will come with me today won't you? I'm not good at the whole business meeting thing,"

Angela moved to the edge of the balcony so they were barely three feet apart. She noticed that, having given her his robe, Jordan was dressed now only in his boxers and a white vest.

"What about Jay?"

"He'll be okay with Sharon,"

"I don't know what Sharon will think of that,"

Jordan reached a hand out across the divide between them and Angela released her hand to meet it. "I want you there, I'll feel better if you're there,"

"Okay," she agreed, "I'll be there, I'll play your personal assistant or whatever,"

"And later on maybe we can came back to the hotel and-," he grinned, the mischief in his eyes clear as day even in the dim hours of dawn.

**Sorry about the long long gap between postings x**


	6. Chapter 6

Jordan carefully sorted through his designs as he and Angela waited in the super modern reception area of Carman and Co. arranging them in an appropriate order in his portfolio. Angela watched over his shoulder, admiring his creativity and loving the way his nerves made his actions slightly clumsy. Jordan struggled to fit a particular sketch into the portfolio folder; she could sense his frustration as he repeatedly fought against the tricky catch that held the whole thing together. Angela placed her hand over his to still its unwieldy actions. Taking the portfolio from him, Angela carefully inserted the offending sketch into its correct position.

"Told you I needed you," he whispered, taking the portfolio back.

Angela smiled back. He looked so smart in his suit and tie, he reminded Angela of a small boy on his first day at school. Jordan had assured her that he had in fact worn a suit on several occasions since she had seen him last, but Angela had never quite been able to imagine it in reality.

Sharon and Jay left early from the hotel, bound for the Museum of Natural History, leaving Angela to help Jordan to get ready. It took rather longer than it should have given that for practically every item of clothing Angela managed to get him to put on he took an item off her. As she fastened his tie he unbuttoned her blouse, and as she tried to straighten the lapel of his jacket he unzipped her skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor before scooping her up in his arms and making a determined effort to rid her of her tights and panties too.

Eventually a smartly dressed woman wearing too much make up appeared from one of the offices. She smiled at Jordan the same way Cynthia Hardgrove used to smile at him across the school corridor. "Mr Catalano,"

Jordan cleared his throat, stood up, and followed the woman back into the office. Angela followed.

They only just managed to contain themselves long enough to get through the door into Angela's hotel room. As soon as they were inside Jordan pushed her hard against the wall and kissed her, his hands running up and down her torso.

"We should order champagne," Angela gasped when she had the chance.

Jordan ceased his kisses and caresses, his hands coming to rest lightly on her hips but his lower body pressed against hers keeping her fixed against the wall, "you've been with your flash businessman too long, you don't need champagne to celebrate,"

Angela smiled, "no? What do you need then?"

A grin slowly spread across Jordan's face that sent shivers through Angela's entire body.

"Five thousand units," he uttered in semi-disbelief, "in a matter of weeks they're going to put my design into production, they're going to sell it in their overpriced store so those snooty folks on the upper east side can have my chairs in their yoga studios and zen spaces,"

Angela beamed with pride.

"I gotta get something really special for Jay for Christmas now. What with the money from the gallery sales too, I could get him a computer maybe? No more having to use my battered old laptop for his space homework, he could have one of his own,"

His sincerity moved Angela almost to the point of tears. She longed to be included in the picture, helping out with space homework, or just watching father and son working it out together. The thought of it gave her a warm sense of comfort, in her mind it was like one of those perfect family settings you see in films.

Jordan grinned at her, "I couldn't have done it without you,"

"Yes you could," she countered, "you were brilliant in there, you totally sold it to them. I was just-, well, there,"

Jordan smirked, "and now you're here,"

"Now I'm here,"

As Angela closed her eyes she felt Jordan's breath on her face as he closed the space between them and stole one of those lingering kisses that leave you breathless and drunk on it. She had seen yet another new side to him in that office. The boy who used to fall asleep in class - if indeed he ever made it to class – had transformed into an eloquent, sharp minded and determined businessman. He had left those executives no choice but to run his designs, his argument had been so water tight, so persuasive that he could have led them anywhere and they would have willingly followed. She could barely contain her pride as she watched him. The man he had become was more beautiful, more intoxicating and more extraordinary than she could ever have imagined. Her feelings for the teenage Jordan Catalano suddenly seemed so foolish to her now; she had loved him for who he was then without any knowledge of the man he would eventually become. Surely if she had known it then, her teenage mind would have been entirely blown. She had given teenage Jordan every possible part of her heart, yet years later here she was, her feelings even stronger than before, and Jordan the man she always hoped he would be.

Lost in her thoughts, Angela had barely registered the swift removal of her clothes and their move to the bed. When she at last regained her senses Jordan was smiling down at her, shirtless and flushed. She reached up to cup his cheek and run a thumb across his lips, soft and full.

"What is it?" he asked, puzzled by her serious expression.

"Nothing," she mused, "just you,"

A smile tugged at Jordan's lips, "what about me?"

"Nothing, you'd only get arrogant," she teased.

Jordan scoffed, feigning offence, before diving down on top of her kissing and nipping at her stomach.

"Jordan!" Angela exclaimed between giggles, arms flailing wildly trying in vain to push him off. She struggled to bring her laughter under control as Jordan wriggled further down the bed, picked up one of her feet and proceeded to tickle it mercilessly. "Stop!" Angela pleaded, kicking at him with her other foot until he caught that one too and let out an evil laugh. Shutting her eyes, Angela couldn't think of anywhere she would rather be at that moment. She felt Jordan release her feet, and the bed dip as he settled down beside her. With her eyes still closed she turned toward him and rested her head against his chest.

"Ticklish huh?"

She laughed, "you know I am, remember the boiler room before my biology midterm?"

Jordan chuckled softly, "did they still let you sit the test?"

"Only because I lied about visiting a sick aunt in the hospital,"

"Really, you lied?"

"How else was I supposed to explain being half an hour late?"

Even with her eyes closed, Angela could tell Jordan was grinning.

"It was fun though," he whispered.

Angela snuggled closer to him. She loved that there was no rush; they had the whole afternoon together. In high school time was precious, there was little chance to savour anything. Maybe that was why Angela had never felt ready to go all the way. She never wanted it to be a rushed fumble followed by a panicked ride home in time for her curfew.

"Do you ever think about high school?" she asked, lightly stroking his soft skin.

"I think about you,"

"But I mean do you think about how we were then, how we felt?"

"What do you mean?"

She sighed, "I guess don't really know, I just say these stupid things. I don't know where they come from,"

"I remember the first time I saw you,"

Angela smiled, looking up at him as his head lay on the pillow, "you do?"

"Yeah. You were wearing that blue cardigan and your hair was still-, not red. You were sitting on the bleachers with Sharon laughing about something and I saw you from the field,"

"What did you think?" Angela urged.

"I thought," he took a deep breath, "now there's a girl I could get into some trouble,"

Jordan let out a throaty laugh and Angela slapped him playfully, "what did you think?"

"Wow. I thought you were beautiful. You were different from the girls with the big hair and the too much make up who used to throw themselves at every guy within a reasonable distance. Come here," he encouraged her to move further up the bed so he could see her face properly. "What did you think of me?"

Angela giggled, "I was completely obsessed with you,"

"Honest," Jordan noted.

"Really. You must have known, I was practically your shadow for like half a year,"

Jordan smiled, "I guess I knew. Maybe I kinda liked it. I never found many girls who would rather shadow me than offer me whatever in the boiler room during free period,"

"Well I did do that eventually,"

"Oh yeah,"

They both laughed.

"Let's just not go back," Jordan declared in all sincerity, "let's go somewhere and just be together,"

"You have no idea how easy it would be to persuade me,"

"Then let's just do it,"

Angela caressed his face, "I can't. Not yet. I can't do that to Ben. He's been good to me. And anyway how would you explain it to Jay?"

"You don't have to worry about Jay. He's a really smart kid, you know, despite his father. He asked me last night if you were going to move in with us, I think he's got us pretty much busted,"

"Oh God!" Angela laughed.

Jordan pulled her still closer to him, so their faces were very nearly touching, "what you said last week, about this being some kind of infatuation, some kind of a hang up from when we were teens? You didn't mean that did you?"

Angela tried to think clearly, but it was always difficult under the gaze of those blue eyes, "I was scared. I am scared. That's why I said it,"

"What scares you?"

"That it's not possible. If we were together, I mean actually together, it wouldn't be like this all the time,"

"It would be better than this," Jordan interjected, propping himself up on his elbow as if he had just been granted some sort of revelation, "we wouldn't have to worry about anything. When we were kids there was always something-, something at the back of our minds; your parents, my dad, friends. Imagine how great it would be if we were just able to be-," he searched in vain for an end to the sentence but quickly realised he had already found it, "just be."

Angela also propped herself up so that they were once again on equal terms, "Sharon met this guy at college, Johnny. They got engaged but she met someone else, Alex, and they had this whirlwind romance. So anyway she left Johnny and set up with Alex and they're still together and everything but," Angela looked down at her hands, which tugged nervously at the bedclothes, "I don't think she's really satisfied with him. I mean I think she regrets what she did just because it's not a fairytale afterward,"

"Has Sharon warned you off me, told you to go back to nice flashy fiancé? Why? Because of a mistake she made?"

"She's just worried,"

"And she knows best because? Jeez why do you always listen to these people? All the way through High School you listened to these people claiming to know what's best for you. Sharon, Rickie, Rayanne, your Mom. Why don't you do what you want to do?"

"I just don't want you to have all these expectations of what it would be like," suddenly she recalled Sharon's words, "they don't call it a spark for nothing Jordan, it doesn't last forever,"

With that Jordan sat bolt upright, his chest heaving, "you're right the spark doesn't last. But sometimes," he hesitated, "sometimes a spark lights like a fire. And it might not always burn the brightest or the biggest but for some people those flames keep burning deep down for a lifetime. We had our spark Angela; we had it years ago in that boiler room with my hand down your pants and you giggling every time I shot my load. That spark lit something inside me-," he was on a roll now, he wasn't going to stop, it was as if his brain had taken a vacation and his heart was doing all the talking, "and it never went out. Never. I thought about you every night; where you were, who you were with. And when I saw you again it was as if someone threw a whole can of gasoline onto that fire and the flames rose up like some kind of magic and fuck me it burned. I'm not saying it's always going burn that way but I don't think I'll ever find anyone who burns me like you do."

Seemingly exhausted by his own outburst, Jordan let out a long sigh and slumped back down on to the bed with his back to a dumbstruck Angela. All she could do was lay a hand on his back, as if to make sure he was real. He was. He had always been real, even when it seemed he couldn't possibly be. At that moment Angela realised that she had thought of him too, every night. Every time she looked into Ben's eyes she saw Jordan's azure blue.

"When we get back," she began in little more than a whisper, "I'm going to tell Ben that I can't marry him,"

Jordan didn't move but Angela felt the tension leave his muscles a little. She lent down and rested her forehead against his back, focussing on the little patch of skin her finger was now lightly caressing, "I feel it too, I'm sorry I doubted it," she uttered.

Almost immediately she felt Jordan's body shift and she sat up to allow him to turn on to his back then settled her head back down on his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat threatened to send her to sleep, as did Jordan's fingers stroking up and down her arm. She fought against the desire to close her eyes.

"You asleep?"

"Almost," she scoffed.

"Sleep,"

Angela tried in vain to fight the tiredness, "but don't you want-,"

"We've got time," he assured her.

So she allowed the tiredness in.

Angela awoke an indefinite period of time later. Jordan lay beside her, his heavy breathing a sure sign that he too had succumbed to sleep. Though her eyes still felt heavy she wanted to stay awake, just to watch him for a while. She noticed that every so often his fingers twitched and once or twice she heard him grunt softly as if annoyed by something. She found herself wondering what he was dreaming of and dared to hope it was her. In actual fact Jordan was dreaming he was in a queue for a roller coaster, except that he could see that part of the track was missing but couldn't leave the queue because he didn't want to appear a wimp. One of those ridiculous quandaries that only occurs in dreams.

Jordan took a deep breath and lifted his hand to his face, pushing his hair back and rubbing his eyes. Angela combed his hair back with her fingers as Jordan opened his eyes and smiled a sleepy smile.

"Morning," he uttered.

Angela laughed, "try late afternoon,"

"Oh yeah," he frowned, "shit we should get up Sharon and Jay will be back soon,"

"You're right," Angela agreed before shifting under the covers and crossing the room to the bathroom naked, eliciting a frustrated groan from Jordan.

"Should have fucked you," he moaned.

Angela chanced a cheeky smile back at him before disappearing into the bathroom.

They managed to get dressed and ready just in time for Sharon and Jay's return. Angela ordered some sandwiches, having been informed by Jordan that Jay would almost certainly have not allowed a break for lunch. The food arrived and Angela and Jordan attempted to look nonchalant sitting in the armchairs next to the balcony doors of Jordan's room. The door opened and Sharon appeared for a moment only to usher Jay inside, before closing the door again.

"Hey," cried Jordan, "did you have a good day?"

Jay ran to him carrying a gift shop bag so big it dragged on the carpet, "it was great, we saw everything. Sharon bought me this book."

Angela smiled but was concerned that Sharon had not returned to the room, "that looks fantastic, I'm going come back in just a minute and have a look at that."

"Sure," Jay agreed.

Angela exchanged glances with Jordan before returning to her own room. Inside she found Sharon sitting at the dressing table. She indicated to Angela's bed, "I guess I don't need to ask whether or not the meeting went well this morning, since you've clearly been celebrating." When Angela's affirmation was not forthcoming Sharon conceded her evidence, "the bedspread is on upside down,"

Angela glanced at her bed nearest the window, the pattern was indeed inverse to that on Sharon's bed. "What's wrong?" Angela asked hesitantly, "are you angry at me?"

"We saw Rayanne," Sharon said simply, clearing her throat.

Angela felt a bowling ball smack into her stomach, "what?"

"She came from nowhere. We were just crossing the street and she just appeared, I didn't even see her,"

"Did Jay know who she was?"

"I don't think so. She spoke to me, she barely looked at him,"

"What did she say?"

Sharon shook her head a little; trying to discern what was actually said from the little she had managed to take in through the confusion and shock, "she greeted me as though I'd seen her yesterday. Asked me how things were, how you were,"

"Did you tell her about me and-,"

"Of course not," she exclaimed, "what do you think that I'm an idiot? I don't need all this Angela. I'm sorry but I don't need all of this as well,"

"What do you mean? Is everything okay Sharon?"

Sharon sighed, "I just don't like all of this complication,"

"As well as what?"

Her friend looked up at her with a defiant ignorance.

"You said you didn't need this as well. As well as what?"

"We all have our own problems,"

"You mean problems between you and Alex?"

"We don't all choose to share them Angela,"

She felt her eyes immediately fill with tears, "okay,"

But it wasn't ok. Sharon had always shared every detail of everything with Angela, from her first crush to her first time. It worried Angela that she was suddenly so unwilling to share this particular problem with her. Any number of possibilities flashed through her mind but it was hopeless to try and hypothesize.

"Do you want to come next door, we ordered sandwiches,"

Sharon smiled, "yeah why not, we didn't eat all day. Jay said we didn't have time if we wanted to see the whole museum,"

Angela laughed, "Jordan guessed as much,"

The two friends made their way back to Jordan and Jay's room. But Angela felt a deep sadness at Sharon's refusal to confide in her and the tension hung heavily between them.

**A slightly shorter chapter and a filler of sorts setting up some later stuff. Enjoy x**


	7. Chapter 7

Sharon's hairdryer was loud, like really loud. Angela pulled her pillow over her head but it was no use, she suspected half the hotel had probably awoken to the same interminable drone. She opened one eye and focussed on her friend who was standing in front of the mirror, her red hair billowing out in every direction.

"Don't look at me like that; it's enough that they're meeting me on a Sunday, the least I can do is not have flat hair,"

Angela smiled despite herself, rolling on to her back and staring at the ceiling, wondering if Jordan was doing the same next door. She loved and hated the fact that they weren't alone in equal measure. She fantasised about having Jordan all to herself for an entire weekend in such a beautiful city, but at the same time she enjoyed the stolen moments, it reminded her a little of their youth, and she knew it would make it all the more exciting when she finally did get him all to herself.

Jordan lay awake facing the window, watching the apartment block opposite gradually light up as the inhabitants made the decision it was time to face Sunday morning. He wondered if Angela was still asleep, he thought he could hear a hairdryer but he was pretty certain that was more likely to be Sharon than Angela. He recalled meeting Angela numerous times at her house on Saturday mornings, she would run to his car with her hair still wet and smelling of the shampoo she always used. He loved that she never felt the need to make too much of an effort, not like the others, she was natural and pure and comfortable with him. When he was with her he felt different, he felt needed and part of something. Though he knew he could not be certain of it, he dreamed of the day Angela would arrive at his house with her bags and tell him that she loved him and would be with him for the rest of their days. He wouldn't allow himself to truly believe it until he saw it with his own eyes; he could see how difficult it was for Angela to be torn between him and her fiancé. After all she must have loved him.

"Dad?"

Jordan sat up and rubbed his eyes, "yeah?"

"I'm thirsty,"

The elder Jordan stretched and slipped out of bed, taking a bottle of water from the mini bar and pouring some into a glass on the dressing table for his son. He sat on the edge of the bed as Jay drank gratefully.

"So what do you want to do today?"

"I don't mind," the boy said cheerily, the water having washed away the weariness of sleep.

"Well we could go on the ferry, see the Statue of Liberty, or go on the open top bus? It's up to you buddy,"

"Can we go to the park?"

"Sure,"

"Is Angela coming with us?"

Jordan smiled, he couldn't help himself, "yeah, is that okay?"

The boy nodded, "does she like playing frisbee?"

Laughing, his father ruffled his hair and whispered, "I hope so,"

Next door Angela emerged from the bathroom just as Sharon was pulling on her jacket. Their eyes met briefly in the mirror and a trace of the tension from the night before was still evident. But Sharon was determined not to allow it to linger.

"So what have you guys got planned for today?" she asked cheerfully.

Angela shrugged, "I'm not sure, Jordan mentioned something about a bus tour,"

"Oh great, I get the museum, you get the sightseeing,"

"Sorry," Angela laughed.

Sharon took one final look in the mirror, adjusting the colourful silk scarf tied smartly around her neck. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before purposefully turning to Angela, "what I said last night-,"

"You don't have to explain,"

"It's not-, I mean I don't want you to think that there's something seriously wrong with Alex and me because there really isn't,"

Angela nodded.

"It was a long day yesterday, and after the shock of seeing Rayanne, it kind of threw me,"

Angela felt that familiar discomfort at the sound of her name, and Sharon sensed the change in her immediately.

"At least we know she's okay," Sharon offered, "she said she was working in a cafe a few blocks down from where we were. She looked just the same. Does Jordan ever talk about-,"

"Not often. Not by choice. I don't think it ended well. He has this scar," Angela swallowed hard, the thought of it made every muscle in her body tighten, "down his side. She did it with a bottle,"

Sharon gasped "are you serious? Rayanne attacked Jordan,"

"He won't say exactly why or-, I don't think it was the only time. He has other marks on him; this tiny scar on his forearm, and these two little marks on his shoulder, round like-,"

"Cigarette burns,"

Angela closed her eyes as if trying to chase away the horrible images in her mind, "I mean, I know his father was a bastard but," she sighed, "I knew every inch of him when we were teens Sharon, they're recent,"

"But how, I mean Jordan wouldn't just let her-,"

"I don't know. He's the gentlest man I've ever known Sharon, he would never lash out, not like that. She must have been out of her mind,"

Sharon nodded, "she always was kinda out of control, especially with the dinking. Poor Jordan,"

"Please don't say anything about this to him?"

"Of course not," Sharon assured her.

"Jordan's so proud, he doesn't like to be pitied or fussed over,"

"I won't utter a word," Sharon smiled.

"And I won't pry into your business again,"

Sharon shook her head as if to assure her she had moved beyond their misunderstanding, "It wasn't you who made me get angry, it's not like I don't pry enough myself into your life,"

"Well there's never been anything to tell before,"

"I get angry at myself for worrying all the time. I drive myself a little crazy I guess,"

Angela frowned, trying to comprehend what Sharon was getting at.

"I think he's seeing someone else Angela," Sharon glanced up at Angela's stunned expression, "I know, I'm probably being paranoid, I really should stop thinking these things but-," she looked down at her watch, "I have to go, I'm going to be late." She opened her oversized handbag to check one last time she had everything she needed.

"Sharon-," Angela began.

"It's nothing," Sharon grinned, reaching forward to hug Angela, "you have the best day, okay? I'll see you tonight for dinner,"

Angela nodded, dumbstruck. Even when Sharon had closed the door behind her Angela remained standing still. It suddenly made sense; why Sharon had acted so strangely over her and Jordan. She felt an incredible guilt at the thought of causing Ben so much pain; she felt selfish and weak and ungrateful. She should never have gone to Jordan's house that day; she should never have agreed to accompany him to the gallery opening. If she hadn't have gone then perhaps none of this would have happened and perhaps she could have continued living her life with Ben and been happy.

She thought about this and the strange new direction her life had taken, as she stood under the shower. What if she had never met Jordan again? Then perhaps in another few years she would have stopped thinking about him altogether. When Ben mentioned high school, Jordan might not have been the first thing she thought of. When she came across an old item of clothing in her wardrobe she might not automatically be taken back to a memory of wearing it to meet him. And when she slipped into bed and wrapped her arms around Ben, she might do so without occasionally imagining that it was Jordan instead.

There was a knock at the door shortly after Angela had finished getting dressed. She paused at the door before opening it, worrying that she would be unable to conceal her concerns from Jordan. As soon as the door was opened a crack, Jordan impatiently pushed it the rest of the way forcing Angela to step backwards in surprise. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her hard against him, burying his face in her neck and inhaling the sweet scent of her wet hair for a few moments before kissing her passionately. The warmth of his mouth, the silky slickness of his tongue against hers and the irresistible sound of his occasional muffled groans was almost enough to alleviate any worries Angela might have been mulling over prior to his appearance.

Jordan ended the kiss with a peck on the nose and grinned, pleased with himself, "we ordered breakfast. Well, Jay did - he went a little overboard,"

He led Angela through to next door where Jay was happily sat cross-legged at the bottom of the bed watching cartoons. The boy looked up as his father entered with Angela, "Angela look, I ordered it on the telephone,"

"Wow," she smiled at the sight of the pastries, fruit and cereal arranged on the table near the balcony doors.

"They brought it on a trolley, the woman said I was cute," Jay grinned.

Angela laughed, "did she now?" She caught Jordan's eye and raised her eyebrows – like father, like son.

As they sat down to eat breakfast, Angela felt like part of the family. She looked across the little table at Jordan and Jay as they both made a mess of the fiddly pastries, each sending crumbs over the edges of their plates and licking their fingers. She couldn't help but think about what breakfasts would have been like with Rayanne. So many questions were running through her mind, questions that she had managed to bury but which had been exhumed by Sharon's encounter. How had Jordan and Rayanne even come to have anything approaching an actual relationship? And how long were they together for? And how could she abandon her own child? And did Jordan love her?

Her thoughts must have been reflected in her face because she felt the warmth of Jordan's hand on her knee and, looking up, his eyes entreating hers. She smiled and took a spoonful of blueberries to add to her cereal. But the constant buzzing in her head refused to leave her.

Jay convulsed with laughter again at the sight of his father diving on to the grass to catch the frisbee. The boy ran over to him and jumped on his chest, Jordan pulled him close and then lifted him up in the air resulting in shrieks of delight. Angela ran over to the pair, picking up the frisbee and dropping down to her knees beside them.

"Look Angela, I'm flying!"

Angela laughed, "You are! What can you see from up there?"

"Everything," came the excited reply.

She looked down at Jordan, his face a picture of contentment, and lay down beside him on the grass. Jordan brought Jay down from his elevated position and the boy scrambled off his father and positioned himself between them. The trio looked up at the grey sky and the ominous clouds gathering above them, ready to rain.

"We should probably get inside," Jordan suggested.

"No," protested Jay, "it won't rain hard,"

Almost as soon as the words had left his mouth they each felt the first drops on their faces.

"Come on," Jordan quickly stood up, picking up a still protesting Jay and swinging him over his shoulder before reaching out a hand to help Angela stand.

They took refuge in a café off Broadway and selected a table by the window. Angela and Jay rid themselves of their wet coats while Jordan went up to the counter to place an order.

"Look at it now, bouncing off the pavement,"

Jay looked out at the people dashing through the rain sheltered under umbrellas, coats and newspapers, and cursing as their expensive shoes landed in puddles. Angela watched him watching them. His features were so alike to Jordan, the same elegant nose slightly turned up at the tip, the same concerned brow. Yet there was something in the eyes that was unmistakably Rayanne.

"Angela?"

"Mmmmhmm,"

"Do you love my dad?"

Angela's breath caught in her throat and she coughed. Jordan patted her on the back as he returned to the table with their drinks and sat down between them. He laughed, "you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm just going to the bathroom,"

She stood and made her way unsteadily to the back of the café, alternating between anger at her own decision to come to New York in the first place and guilt at having been so eager to be with Jordan with she hadn't considered the impact on Jay.

As in so many small cafes, likely family businesses for decades, the bathroom had been an afterthought and fitted at a later date into a tiny underused space. In this case it was located down a short corridor that ran down the side of the kitchen. A door marked "Staff Only" opened suddenly as Angela passed and a waitress stepped out carrying a tray of drinks and a plate of sandwiches. Distracted and flustered Angela muttered an apology.

"Don't sweat it," came the reply.

Angela's subconscious stopped her in her tracks, aware of something that present Angela had failed to register. One gradually caught up with the other.

Jay and Jordan both smirked at one another as a man in a smart suit fell victim to the combination of a cab and a puddle. The sound of plates smashing caused them to turn immediately to face the source of the clatter. The young man behind the counter moved toward the doorway leading down to the kitchen and bathroom but quickly stepped away as two figures, each gripped at the shoulders by the other, emerged through the doorway. One moved to grab a handful of the other's hair, eliciting a scream of pain, whilst the other dug fingernails into skin revealed by a loose fitting t-shirt. Jordan, recognising the pair, jumped to separate them, pushing them apart with the help of the young waiter.

Angela and Rayanne stilled, breathing deeply, eyes wild. There was a sharp crack as Rayanne slipped a hand free of the young waiter's grip and slapped Angela across the face. Angela groaned in pain and covered the injured cheek with her hand as the young waiter retained Rayanne once again.

"Angela,"

Jay raced across the café and took a grasp of Angela's free hand.

Rayanne's face was still. Her eyes softened and her shoulders sank. "Well isn't that beautiful,"

"Rayanne," Jordan's voice was steady and authoritative.

A smile spread across her face as she looked down at the boy with his cheek against Angela's leg. "Is this my boy?"

Jay frowned "who are you?"

Rayanne looked up at Jordan and then at Angela, still holding her face, and she grinned at their helplessness. After all Angela had abandoned her when she had needed her most. Jordan was all that she could salvage: a little part of her friend to be the focus of her anger and unhappiness. Until she realised that he served merely as a painful reminder and a reflection of her own sadness at Angela's abandonment.

"I'm your mommy," she grinned, "do you remember me?"

"No, I've never seen you before," the boy replied.

"You have," Rayanne bent down toward him, "you were just very small,"

Jordan placed a protective hand around Jay's shoulders and pulled him back against Angela again. "Rayanne, we're leaving,"

Rayanne scoffed, "you can't, he's my son,"

"No he's not," Jordan countered, "he's my son,"

"Yours and Angela's I suppose. Are you playing happy families now? Like a kid will ever make the two of you work," she laughed.

Jordan instigated a move toward the door, taking hold of Angela's hand in a purposeful show of solidarity.

"What happened to your fiancé?"

Angela stopped.

"Last I heard from Rickie you were living the good life together,"

"Come on," Jordan nudged Angela further toward the door and she willingly allowed him to lead her for a moment before swiftly turning, avoiding Jordan's attempt to encircle her waist and prevent her.

"For your information Rayanne, my life is none of your business and hasn't been for years. Not since I last saw you, vomiting on the sidewalk at midnight when you swore to me that you were clean,"

Rayanne gritted her teeth, "fuck you,"

Angela held eye contact for a few moments before turning her back on her friend again.

Sharon sat on the edge of the bed while Angela wept into the pillow. She had always been aware of Angela's acute guilt at what had happened to Rayanne. Though she had tried to bury it, it was always evident to Sharon that the fate of their one time friend had cast a long shadow in Angela's mind.

"It was never your fault Angela. How could you have done anything more to help her when she didn't want to help herself?"

Sharon knew her comforting words were of little use.

Next-door Jordan and Jay sat together on one of the beds. Jay played with the two miniature action figures that he always kept on his bedside drawer and Jordan struggled to find the words to explain the events of the afternoon.

"Was she telling lies?" the boy asked eventually.

"No she wasn't," was the only reply.

Further silence followed. Jay played with the figures but his usual enthusiasm was absent.

"Joey Taskerson's dad," he suddenly spoke up again, "lives in Indiana and only visits on weekends,"

"Does he?"

"Uh huh. Joey said the reason he doesn't live with him and his mom is because he's allergic to their cat,"

Jordan smiled, "is that right,"

Jay nodded. "Joey Taskerson doesn't have a cat,"

Jordan ruffled the boy's hair. To his surprise Jay stood up on the bed, rising to just level with Jordan's face, and hugged his father. Jordan, almost moved to tears, wrapped his arms around his son.

Sharon answered the knock at the door despite Angela begging her not to.

"Sharon could you watch Jay for me?"

Sharon hesitated but agreed.

Jordan closed the door and moved toward the bed where Angela lay facing the window, toying with the corner of the pillow. Jordan sat behind her with his back against the headboard and gently rubbed her back, still shuddering with her tears.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"No," she stuttered, "it's me who should apologise." She turned around and rested her head on his thigh, his hand moved to stroke her hair as she laid a hand on his knee. "I should never have come here with you. Poor Jay," her voice broke into tears again.

"Hey," he brushed away the new tears with his thumb, "I always knew the day would come when I would have to tell him everything. And that he was too smart for that day to be all that far in the future." His hand reached down to take hold of hers, "Rayanne won't hurt him, I won't let her. But there's no point denying who she is,"

Angela sat up and looked him in the eyes. It pained him to see her eyes reddened with tears. It brought back memories of the other times he had seen her cry. Too many times.

Jordan ran a finger across the red mark on Angela's cheek where Rayanne's hand had make contact earlier. Angela almost subconsciously stroked his side where the scar remained as a reminder of their ill-fated liaison. He leant in slowly and placed delicate kisses up her neck, brushing back her hair in order to continue his journey up to her ear, whispering something almost inaudible even to Angela, "anyone ever tell you, you think too much?"

Angela smiled, "all the time,"

Jordan smirked, "hey, you held your own pretty well in that scrap,"

She blushed, "it's so embarrassing, I don't know what came over me,"

"Wait a minute, you started the fight?"

He received a barely there nod in response, "I guess it was everything I'd tried to press down just came out when I saw her. I couldn't control it,"

Jordan wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, "I should have been there for you,"

"You were," she reassured.

"Not when you needed me. Not when she-," he hesitated, "not when she needed me. Maybe if I'd done something then, if maybe I'd gotten through to her. Maybe things would have been different,"

Angela shook her head, "don't wish that," she whispered, achingly aware of her own hypocrisy, "you would never wish not to have Jay. He's the best thing that could ever have happened. You're the most incredible father Jordan and he worships you. Rayanne was beyond the help that any of us could have given then. We were kids,"

Jordan shook his head, "My father was exactly the same. Well, not the same but-,"

Angela had only ever met Jordan's father a couple of times. He had always been very polite and courteous. But his act was futile because Jordan had eventually confessed to her his true nature.

He sighed, "I shouldn't have let you carry it for so long. I should have done something,"

She caressed his face and implored him not to blame himself. She glanced down at her hand resting in her lap, "how did the two of you-, I mean it's okay if you don't want to tell me. But I would like to understand if you'll let me,"

"Angel." He sighed out her name, like he always did when she'd asked something that he wasn't prepared to answer.

"Jordan I'm going to leave my fiancé for you. I've loved you since I was just a kid. Please just let me in," she clasped his hand and laid her other hand on top.

"She came round to my house one night a few weeks after you left for college. She was drunk. Angry,"

"Angry? About what?"

Jordan licked his bottom lip slowly and shook his head, "everything." He swallowed hard. "I felt sorry for her. We had a long history and it was hard for me to see her like that,"

It seemed plausible enough to Angela. Jordan had known Rayanne forever. They "messed around" as he put it when they were pre-teens, and she had been handing him sticking plasters for the cuts and bruises he got at home before Angela even knew he existed. But still there was something about his explanation that didn't seem complete. She thought back to the cigarette burns and the scar down his side.

Angela took a deep breath and slipped off the bed, collecting her bag from the armchair.

"Where are you going?" asked Jordan.

"I need to speak to Rayanne,"

"I should come with you" he said quickly, trying to slip on his shoes before she could reach the door.

"No. You two have your own things you need to sort out but I need to talk to her,"

Jordan inhaled ready to further dissuade her from going but she beat him to it.

"Please don't follow me,"

**Gosh it's been a long time - sorry about that. Hopefully I will have a bit more time now to update a little more regularly. Thank you for the reviews and the encouragement. xxx**


	8. Chapter 8

The air was still damp from the earlier rainfall as Angela walked back to the small cafe. Her mind was so full of conflicting thoughts: Jordan and Ben, Jordan and Rayanne, Sharon. She wished she could take a moment to sort them out but she knew she had to speak to Rayanne first before any of it would make sense. She didn't have to look very far to find her high school friend. Rayanne was sitting on the doorstep of the Laundromat next door to the cafe. She took a long draw on her cigarette as she saw Angela approaching before standing and moving toward the cafe.

"Wait Rayanne," Angela cried after her.

Rayanne paused and turned back to face her. "What do you want?"

"To talk. Have you got long before you need to be back?"

"I'm not going back. Mr Conrad said not to bother. I gotta go collect my stuff,"

"I'm sorry. It was my fault, maybe I can go talk to him,"

Rayanne shook her head and flicked her cigarette stub away, "don't bother, it was a shit job anyway."

"I didn't mean for that to happen,"

"Yeah well maybe you did, maybe you didn't. I don't care,"

"Is there somewhere we can go? I'd really like-, I mean I hoped we could talk about some things,"

"Things that you want to talk about or things that I want to talk about?"

"I kinda hoped they might be the same,"

Rayanne kicked at the edge of the kerb and toyed with the zip on her bag.

"Rayanne, please can we just-,"

"What for?" Rayanne interjected sharply, "why should I even bother talking to you?"

"Because I want to sort things out between us,"

"How can you? I needed you and you left there's nothing more to it,"

"Can we please go somewhere to talk properly?"

"Oh that's not what you wanted to hear, I'm sorry,"

Rayanne stared indignantly at her before marching up to the Laundromat and pushing open the door, indicating that they should go inside. The place was deserted but for an elderly lady sorting her lights from her darks into two large baskets. Angela smiled at her as she entered. Rayanne sat down on one of the benches, cuddling her bag to her chest. Angela sat down as near to her as she dared.

"I'm not clean. That's the first thing you want to ask isn't it? Well I'm not,"

Angela was disappointed but not wholly surprised.

"So come on then. Talk Angela, I've got a job to find,"

Now it came to it, Angela wasn't altogether sure what it was she wanted to say, or what she wanted to hear in response.

Rayanne scoffed, "great. You really don't change do you? Shall I just kick us off and you can jump in when you feel ready? Is that what you want? The story of Rayanne Graff's life post Angela Chase? Okay. So you started college and you never called me anymore and Rickie kinda didn't speak to me anymore. Tino was pretty much the only person around until," she paused, "the overdose. Then there was my mom who left with some guy she met at a karaoke night. Are you getting the picture? Is it taking shape here Angelica?"

The sound of her old nickname sent shivers down Angela's spine.

"But that's not really what you want to know is it?" Rayanne continued, lighting a cigarette in spite of the signs kindly requesting customers not to smoke, "because you know all that. What you want to know," she pointed at Angela with the cigarette, "is about me and Jordan, and our beautiful relationship. Because that's what you can't take isn't it?"

"Oh yeah I've seen how beautiful it was," Angela nodded, "I've seen it etched right down his side,"

"Yeah well," she took another long drag on the cigarette, "that's passion for you,"

Angela laughed out loud, "passion? You are unbelievable,"

"Oh shut up," Rayanne stood up before her and threw the cigarette down, "you know nothing about it! You left me. I needed you and you left me,"

"You gave me no choice Rayanne. I tried everything to help you but you refused to be helped. Was I supposed to stand there and watch my friend kill herself?"

Almost before the last word had left Angela's lips Rayanne had grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her up and pushed her against the washing machines "you were supposed to be there! You should have kept trying! What gave you the right to give up? Why did you give up?"

"I had done everything I could. My mom had done everything she could. We all had,"

Rayanne's grip on Angela's clothing was strong and her knuckles pressed into her shoulders until she could feel her skin bruising beneath. Angela looked into her eyes and saw her anger and her pain.

"You didn't even try to understand," she shook her head, "how could you? Angela Chase, Miss Perfect. How could you even begin to put yourself in my place? You can't even imagine it,"

"I tried. But I kept giving you chance after chance and I just couldn't do it anymore,"

"I hated you". She spoke through gritted teeth and her grip on Angela's shoulders tightened further but for the first time tears also appeared in Rayanne's eyes. "I could have been like you, you know. I could have had the perfect life. Instead of the messed up shitty life I've had. But it was okay because you were there. And while you were there I could at least pretend that I was part of it," a tear rolled down her cheek, "and then you left. And I was just left with what I had before, the reality, the shit". She took a deep breath and wiped the back of her hand across her face to wipe away some of the tears, "Jordan was all that was left of you,"

Released from Rayanne's grasp, Angela rubbed her shoulder and adjusted her jacket. The pieces were starting to fall into place, but the process was more painful than she could have imagined as the truth began to form in her mind.

Rayanne hid her face behind her hands. Eventually she emerged, her eyes reddened and her skin pale.

"My life was never and has never been perfect Rayanne,"

"Oh yeah, do you wanna swap?"

Angela looked down at her shoes.

"I thought not," she laughed. "Is it falling into place?"

Angela kept quiet, she didn't want to risk another shove against the washing machines.

"He was there you know - when I had Jay. I was surprised, I didn't think he was going to stick around. We were so drunk the night it happened," she scoffed, "come to think of it we were always drunk when it happened, it was like the foundation of the relationship. But he was there. I was shouting and screaming, begging for drugs," she added with more than a hint of irony, "and he was like totally calm. When Jay was born he held him first. I don't think he wanted to ever let him go,"

"How could you have left him?"

Rayanne turned away from her and moved back to the bench, taking out another cigarette and lighting it before sitting down, "I knew he'd be better off,"

"Don't give me that,"

"It's the truth. I let myself get pregnant because I thought it would make Jordan stay with me. But it didn't work out quite how I planned, he loved Jay like-, I couldn't handle it. I was jealous, I admit it. I realised I could never be who either of them needed me to be, so I left. It turns out I do have a heart after all, because I knew the best thing for that kid was for him to be as far away from me as possible,"

Angela shook her head "that's not true,"

"Yeah? Wouldn't a proper mom have visited? Called?" she wiped another stray tear from beneath her eye, "I shouldn't have done what I did in the cafe earlier,"

"He would have found out eventually,"

"Not like that. See I can't even get that bit right,"

"He's a smart kid, he would understand. He's kinda like you in some ways you know,"

Rayanne scoffed, "poor kid,"

"I know that Jordan would be willing to organise something if you wanted to see him,"

"Yeah? You really think Jordan has anything left to say to me? You've seen what I did him," she shook her head, "I shouldn't have treated him like I did. I was angry, out of control, and I knew he would take it - because he wanted to keep me from you," she looked up to gauge Angela's reaction. "You were off enjoying college and getting your life started and I was having alcohol induced dreams of ripping your face off. He wanted you to have your chance, he wasn't going to let me and my drug fuelled ways stop you. That's why he was with me," she smirked to herself, she had realised the truth long ago, "he was a volunteer punch-bag. It was the only way he could be sure. I'm not going to pretend he was ever in love with me. What's the point in kidding myself? He wasn't exactly in the best state of mind himself, what with his father and everything. I don't know, maybe he just wanted somebody to be with,"

Angela fought back tears.

"Excuse me?"

Angela tried to conceal the tears rolling down her cheeks. Rayanne turned brightly to the elderly woman who had interrupted them, "yes?"

"Could I trouble you for a cigarette?"

It took a moment for the request to register in Rayanne's mind, "sure," she held out the packet to the woman who took one, smiling at them both, and placed it between her lips. Rayanne stretched out and lit it for her.

"I haven't smoked in over thirty years. It used to be glamorous you know, before they found out what it did to you. The first time I ever met my husband he lit a cigarette for me in a bar. It was the most erotic moment of my young life,"

The old lady smiled again and returned to her washing at the back of the shop.

Rayanne and Angela looked at one another. Eventually neither could resist breaking into a smile.

"I have to go collect my bag from the cafe,"

"I'll come with you," Angela offered.

"No, you get back. I'll be okay,"

"Maybe you could come back to Pittsburgh some time?"

"I think you're gonna have things of your own to sort out. I mean you're not seriously gonna marry Mr Businessman are you?"

Angela shook her head.

"Wow. Check out grown up Angela,"

Rayanne moved toward the door.

"We could still maybe meet up again?"

Rayanne smiled, "yeah, maybe". She turned and pulled open the door. It swung closed behind her and she disappeared.

Angela sat down on the bench, glancing across at the elderly lady who smiled back at her. She heard the door open once more. When it didn't then close she looked up out of curiosity. Jordan was standing in the doorway, his shoulder against the door. She smiled; how did he always manage to be wherever she needed him most? Just as she was beginning to despair that her life had been tied up for good, he had been there.

"Are you ready to go?"

She didn't move. She wanted him to come to her. She needed him to come to her.

He stepped away from the door, allowing it to shut with a dull thud. Sitting down next to her on the bench he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her to him. "We're all packed," he whispered into her hair, "I packed your bag too. Well most of it. Sharon packed your-, your personal things,"

She laughed, how could he worry about her "personal things" when they had shared every possible intimacy. She buried her face in his chest and allowed his warmth to surround her.

"Did you two talk?" he asked.

Angela nodded, "Yeah,"

"Did you get the answers you were wanted?"

"Yes". She sat up and looked at him, gently brushing the hair from his face, where the wind had blown it awry, "she told me everything,"

"Did she talk about us? I mean-," he asked with some trepidation in his voice. When she didn't reply anxiety flashed across his face, fearful that Rayanne had lied to her, "I never loved her. Whatever she said I never loved her Angela believe me,"

"I know," she nodded, still stroking the side of his face.

"I know it's difficult to understand. But I wasn't always-, I mean Rayanne wasn't always the only one drinking. I know," he took a deep breath, "I know you worry about what happened between us and I know you worry about-, but it didn't matter," his breaths were short and panicked, as though he wanted to get the whole story out before she had a chance to read anything the wrong way or to question him, "all I knew was that at least while she was taking it out on me she wasn't hurting you,"

Angela moved toward him until their foreheads met. She held his hand in his lap and raised the other to hold against her chest.

"Tell me what you're thinking?" he whispered.

She laughed, "can't you tell?"

"No. I can never tell,"

She sat up and looked him in the eyes, though she kept his hand clasped against her chest, "I'm thinking how thankful I am that the library donates books to Sunny Days,"

Jordan's face broke into a wide smile and he laughed.

She shook her head, "I'm thinking," she lifted his hand to her lips and kissed him gently, "how lucky I am to have such a beautiful guardian angel to look out for me," tears welled in her eyes, "and how I wish I could repay you for what you've done for me,"

"You repaid me ten times over the moment you smiled at me again,"

Angela didn't even need to think about her next move as she leant in and kissed him. She kissed him as though they had been apart for decades and as though she would never see him again. As he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him she felt as though she never need worry about anything again. She had always known he had strength in him, she had seen it when he stood up to his father and she had seen it in the way he was with Jay. But she had never truly understood or appreciated the depth of his feelings for her until that moment. For the first time she truly allowed herself to believe that he loved her.

They were interrupted by a cough. They both looked up to see the elderly lady standing next to them with her basket of washing, now dry and ready to be taken home. As she passed them on her way to the door she glanced back and caught Angela's glance, winking at her as she pulled open the door.

Angela arrived home just after dinner. As soon as she walked through the door she knew Bob and Evie were there; something about the stillness of the house and the way it seemed to warn her of their presence. She carried her bags upstairs, stepping as quietly as she could so as to keep her arrival secret for as long as possible. Sitting down at her dressing table, Angela assessed the impact of Jordan's parting kiss on her hair and make-up. Fortunately it was pretty minor, he had been forced to contain himself by the fact that Jay was sleeping in the backseat. Still the lipstick could do with a retouch.

"There you are!"

Stunned, Angela nearly drew a line in lipstick across her chin. Evie loitered in the doorway blocking the light from the hall.

"I didn't hear you come in,"

"No, I wanted it to be a surprise,"

Evie smiled and nodded, "and how was New York?"

Angela nodded.

"And the dress?"

The memory of the original conceit jumped into Angela's brain, oh shit the dress. "Very well," she stuttered "I have it ordered; they're going to do some alterations and deliver it,"

"Is it," Evie grinned patronisingly, "elegant?"

She suddenly felt an incredible need to piss her off, "yes. It's ivory with lace detail,"

Evie nodded, liking what she heard.

"It's a straight neckline, around here," Angela indicated to well below any sort of decent level of cleavage, "with a V in the back down to about here," she pointed to the base of her spine, "it's really beautiful". A sense of exhilaration rushed through Angela's body as she watched the smile slip from Evie's face.

"Well, I shall see it soon enough, plenty of time for alterations". She moved toward Angela, coming to a halt behind her and proceeding to comb her fingers through her hair. "I have a friend who does hair designs, I showed her your picture and she said she could do something really beautiful for the big day." Every muscle in Angela's body became tense, though she tried not to show it in her face as Evie smiled at her in the mirror. "It'll be wonderful. Bob and I are beside ourselves. Your mother must be very excited, have you spoken to her recently?"

Angela hated it when Evie talked about her mother. They had only actually met once and Evie had made snide remarks about her all evening. "Yeah I spoke to her a few days ago, before New York,"

Evie let out a long sigh, "it's a shame about your parents. It must have been hard for you when they separated." She smiled at Angela with false pity in the mirror, "still, some women find it difficult making a marriage work. They don't realise how much of a compromise it can be,"

"Compromise?" Angela frowned, "my father had a child with another woman. I think my mother took all the compromise she could handle,"

Evie's face tensed and an awkward silence fell over the pair until it was at last broken. "Well, you've missed the first course but there's still desert if you come downstairs. I'm sure Ben will be excited to see you,"

"I'll be down in a minute,"

As she stepped away, Angela felt the tension leave her body. Why did she let herself get so wound up? It was as though Evie could read her thoughts and no matter how hard she worked to not look guilty, she made it almost impossible not to feel like a naughty child lying to her parents.

The shortness of breath returned when she opened her wardrobe and saw all of the familiar modest clothing hanging inside. She wished Jordan was there, she wished she could just leave now with no explanation. But if life with Jordan was going to be perfect, and if she was going to live without regret, then she had to end things properly with Ben.

Seeing the Simmons family at dinner was like watching some kind of puppet show. They didn't act like a real family everything about them was just too perfect. Angela liked to imagine Bob and Evie having raging arguments and her throwing things out of windows. Then she felt guilty, Bob was actually not that bad, in fact sometimes it seemed as though he was just as caught up in Evie's web as she was, and perhaps just as keen to escape.

Ben stood as he saw her enter and moved toward her. His arms surrounded her and he kissed her warmly.

"Welcome back,"

**Sorry for leaving this for so long and thank you for the reviews.**


	9. Chapter 9

To Angela's relief, Evie and Bob had arranged one of their semi-legendary cocktail parties later in the evening for a handpicked group of well heeled Pittsburgh bright lights and so couldn't stay long. Ben took hold of Angela's hand as they stood on the door step to wave goodbye to the waxed-within-an-inch-of-its-life Simmons car as it pulled out of their driveway. As the car disappeared into the distance he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist and stealing an unexpected kiss.

There was a time when a kiss from Ben would have sent shockwaves through her entire body. She could remember their first kiss; that one too had caught her off guard as they took a walk by the river between classes. She held him then as though letting go meant risking being swept away by the river itself.

"I missed you," he whispered, nuzzling her neck.

Angela smiled up at him. He suddenly seemed vulnerable, his easy smile seemed in stark contrast to her deceit. She broke the eye contact; somehow unable to bare it any longer, perhaps scared that he would see it in her eyes. Whilst in New York it seemed like it was almost a switch that she could turn on and off as she wished, but looking up at him – despite everything – she knew it was more complicated.

Back inside, Ben and Angela poured themselves another glass of wine and relaxed on the sofa. She was surprised to find him happy to sit with her for a while, rather than rush off to complete paperwork or discuss a case with one of his colleagues until the early hours. For a longer time than she liked to remember, she had wished they could spend more time like this. When he allowed himself to relax, to forget the pressures and demands of his work, Ben could be witty and charming. They were the qualities that she had fallen in love with at college. If only he could have shown them more often, he may have had more success in wiping Jordan from her memory.

"I wish I could have gone with you to New York," he began, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "the case I'm working on is leading me further into a big old mess, I would have liked a break,"

The magic of the moment was broken, "you can't take a few days off?"

He shook his head, "I have to get it worked out," he leant toward her and whispered "I can't wait to see the dress,"

Angela's throat became tight and her breaths shallow. She thought she could smell Jordan, she wondered if Ben could smell it too, "how about Friday night we have dinner together, just the two of us?"

"I'll be back too late you-,"

"I can wait," she insisted, turning to face him to show him she meant it, "it's been a while since we were able to talk to one another properly,"

"What are we doing now?"

"Ben," she sighed, "I mean properly, not a snatched few minutes before bed,"

He lifted his hands as if to surrender, "all right, as long as you don't mind waiting,"

"I can snack,"

"Well, then I'll look forward to it," he concluded, kissing her on the forehead before sliding out of their embrace and disappearing up the stairs, rubbing the back of his neck as he went.

Angela drew one of the cushions to her and hugged it. She closed her eyes, focussing on its warmth and its weight, transplanting it for Jordan, wanting more than anything to have him there with her. It had been only a matter of hours since she last saw him but already his absence felt too much for her to take. Just a few days together and she had grown accustomed to having him near, to his hand holding hers, to his scent and the feel of his skin. She wondered what he was doing at that moment, if he was thinking of her too.

When the phone rang Jordan was fixing himself a mug of cocoa in the kitchen. He glanced up at the clock, nearly midnight, and quickly reached for the handset for fear it might wake Jay.

"Hello?"

He closed the kitchen door to prevent his voice carrying upstairs.

"Jordan? It's me,"

He sat at the table with his mug, wrapping his robe tighter around him and allowing her voice to surround him like a warm breeze on a summer's day. "Hey you, I'm glad you called. I was missing you already," he voice betrayed a little embarrassment at his slightly slushy confession.

Angela smiled, her fingers winding around the phone handset, caressing its curves, "I miss you too, I just wanted to hear your voice,"

Jordan cupped his hand around the warm mug, running his thumb absentmindedly around the lip, "are you at home?"

"Yeah, Ben's in bed, I'm not sleepy,"

"I don't like the thought of you being in bed with him,"

Angela couldn't help but allow herself a little smile at his possessive tone, it let fly butterflies in her stomach, "you don't have to be jealous". She knew her grin was apparent in her voice.

"It's not funny," Jordan grinned, willingly playing along, "you'd better wear your pyjamas". An image flashed through his mind of her in barely there lace underwear and he reached for his crotch, trying to prevent a grunt from escaping his throat.

Angela snorted, quickly recovering her composure for fear of making too much noise, "nothing is going to happen. He's probably already asleep," she swallowed hard, "I'm going to tell him on Friday over dinner. I've arranged it. Will you be home Friday night?"

"Of course. Come here as soon as you've told him, just pack a bag. I want you here,"

Angela ran a finger across her lips as his voice permeated her mind; she imagined his hot breath against her neck and his fingers-,

"Angela?"

She regained her concentration, "yes. I'll come straight there after,"

Jordan rested his hand against his chest, mimicking the weight of her head resting against him, "are you sure about this? There won't be any going back,"

Angela inhaled deeply, her eyes still a little glazed from the images her mind had been busy summoning, "no going back. I love you,"

"I love you too,"

She put down the phone and sat back against the door of the study where she had interred herself on the off chance Ben might still be awake. The thought of walking out of the door on Friday evening and never having to return sent a rush of adrenaline through her body but she couldn't fully suppress the trace of guilt that accompanied it. She stood, walking slowly around the study; Ben's domain. She fingered the stacks of paperwork on the desk and the smart leather desk tidy containing his array of pens, their silver clips glinting in the lamplight. On the shelves above the desk an array of framed photographs recalled their relationship in its entirety; graduation, holidays, Ben's first day at the firm, the day they moved into the house. She searched her face in each of the pictures; her smile betraying an increasing tension only visible in the depths of her eyes.

Angela awoke the following morning feeling as though she hadn't slept all night. She shaded her eyes from the light and rolled over to check the time – just after eight. Her limbs felt weak and as she stood she clutched her throat, a wave of nausea passing over her. She could hear Ben downstairs, his footsteps on the wooden floor of the hall – he would be gone to work soon.

She took her time getting ready for work. A group from the local school usually visited the library on a Monday morning and Angela couldn't stomach the noise today. The rest of the staff would be so busy trying to prevent a minor disaster at the hands of one of the little darlings that they probably wouldn't notice if she was late.

At lunch she found she had little appetite. As she stared down at the sandwiches she had packed, the phone rang. It was Sharon.

"How's life back in the real world?"

Angela sighed, "great; the library has been full of screaming school children all morning and I feel terrible. What about you?"

"Same old, same old, what about Ben?"

"We're having dinner on Friday, I'm going to tell him then. Jordan said to come to his place straight after, I don't know if it's a good idea but I said I would,"

"No," Sharon stated emphatically, "absolutely not. Your mind will be all over the place, who knows how Ben will take it. You don't want to be around Jordan straight away, at least wait until Saturday, maybe even Sunday. Let the dust settle. You can come to mine,"

"Thanks," Angela prodded one of the sandwiches, "it feels so weird, like planning a prison break,"

Sharon scoffed, "I've witnessed your nearly mother-in-law's parties okay, there's not all that much of a difference," there was a pause as Sharon took a deep breath, "after a couple of days you'll see that it was the best thing to do. I mean if you don't think of yourself now then when will you?"

"I know. I've made up my mind. There was a time when I loved Ben but," she tried to put into words a sense that had stalked her since school, "it was always Jordan. I just didn't allow myself to see it until now. I guess I felt like what we had was childish and I should grow up,"

"Growing up stinks," Sharon replied simply.

"It really does,"

"Okay, well don't be a stranger,"

"I'll see you on Friday,"

After work Angela met Jordan at his house. He called shortly before she was due to leave to tell her Jay had been invited to a friend's house for dinner and he was "lonely" at home alone. She took take-out and they lay in bed for several hours, dividing their time between eating the food, watching a movie and messing around. Jordan was in a playful mood; he had heard back from the company in New York with further confirmation of their order and news of a hefty pay check.

He lay with his head on her stomach, drawing tiny circles on his shoulder. She lay propped up against the headboard running her fingers through his hair and gently massaging his neck.

"I could probably buy us somewhere new to live". He turned over and lifted himself on to his elbows to look up at her, "somewhere bigger, or a nicer neighbourhood,"

"I like it here. Why move when there's no need?"

Jordan laughed, "I don't know what else to do with all this money,"

She smiled cupping his cheek, "spend it on Jay. Put some away in a college fund. Buy him a computer like you said,"

"I could buy him two". He pulled himself a little further up her body, kissing her deeply, "I could buy you something?"

Angela shook her head, "I don't want anything. Ben was always buying me things; thinking that was the way to make me love him more. Nothing you have or don't have has any effect on the way I feel about you. I would rather you were poor and unable to even buy me pizza than wealthy beyond imagination but placing value on the wrong things. That's not the way to my heart,"

Jordan smiled, closing his eyes as she ran a finger across his eyebrows, "okay, I'll try not to let it change me too much,"

They laughed. He pulled her into another kiss, covering her body with his and removing the bedclothes that formed the only boundary between him and her silky skin. Angela gave in to him, allowing herself to be pulled further down the bed and for him to slip between her legs. She loved his weight against her, his muscular arms either side of her and his face buried in her neck. She felt completely surrounded by him. It was as though there were two worlds; the outside world and the world beneath Jordan Catalano, where time moved infinitely slower - if at all - and all sense of consequence or fear went out the window.

His rhythm was slower today than usual, and with every measured thrust he let out a husky sigh against her neck. She closed her eyes and savoured the sound, reaching around to rest her palms flat against his back as she felt the heat building inside her, her toes unconsciously curling in tight. She felt his muscles flex and as he came he kissed her, smothering both of their cries, before laying his head down against her chest and resting his full weight on her. She wrapped her legs around him and felt the sweat cool on her shoulders and neck. She was suddenly overcome with the urge to sleep, she fought to keep her eyelids open but they were too heavy and before she knew it they had fluttered closed.

"Angela?"

His voice seemed distant. She felt his lips against hers, soft, and then his hand on her cheek.

"Ange?"

The world gradually formed itself. Jordan sat on the edge of the bed next to her holding a steaming mug of coffee. She rubbed her eyes and tried to sit up, succeeding on the second attempt.

"What time is it?" she asked, still groggy.

"Nearly 7.30, here,"

She groaned, pushing her hair back from her face and taking the mug with both hands, sipping carefully at the hot liquid. Jordan smiled, flattening a section of hair that sleep had misplaced.

"Am I that boring?"

She raised a smile, the caffeine restoring her senses, "you must have worn me out,"

"You going to be okay to drive?"

She nodded, taking a longer sip, "I'll be okay in a minute,"

"You sure you're not getting sick? Not like you to be so tired?" he rested his palm against her forehead like her mother used to do to check her temperature.

Angela shook her head, "I don't know, I've felt a bit off all day. Maybe it was just the busy weekend we had. What with Rayanne and everything, and you're insatiable sexual appetite," she smirked, "maybe I overdid it,"

Jordan leant in and kissed her, licking the taste of the coffee from his lips, "this time next week, this will be our life. Just you, me and Jay,"

Angela crawled into bed that night and fell into a fitful sleep. She didn't notice Ben coming to bed a few hours later, and didn't feel him leave in the morning either. She awoke suddenly with a sharp intake of breath and immediately rolled on to her side as her stomach churned.

In the bathroom she leant over the toilet bowl, the back of her throat burning. Grasping some tissue she wiped her mouth, sipping some water from the tap to get rid of the taste, sitting on the edge of the bath to try and regain her composure.

"It's not possible," she whispered to herself.

Her head was pounding as she quickly ducked under the shower and got dressed. Downstairs she called the library.

"Don't worry Angela, you didn't look yourself at all yesterday. Take it easy and come back when you're feeling better, just let me know," the sound of her boss' understanding voice did little to calm Angela's frantic heart-rate.

Unable to face any breakfast Angela took the car the five blocks down to the doctor's surgery. The waiting room was busy: elderly people in wheel chairs discussing the weather and the day's television with their carers or forlorn relatives; children out of school to attend appointments with their parents, coughing at intervals; and pregnant women gently rubbing their large bumps. Angela approached the reception desk where three women were gathered around a small table sipping coffee from mugs decorated with humorous sayings.

"Excuse me?"

One of the women approached the desk, smiling from behind thin rimmed spectacles, "yes?"

"I need to see Doctor Skolnick, does she have a free appointment today?"

"One moment, " the woman turned to the computer beside her and clicked through several screens, "I'm sorry Doctor Skolnick isn't here today. She'll be back on Friday; shall I look for an appointment for you then?"

"No that's okay, I really need to see someone today,"

"Hi Angela,"

Another of the women, who had been sitting with her back toward the desk until now, approached her with a wide smile. She was roughly Angela's age, tall, dark haired and pretty- Angela recognised her immediately.

"Hi Amber, how are you?"

"I'm great," the young woman replied.

"I'm trying to book Miss Chase in for an appointment, "the first woman filled her in.

"Well my husband has a free spot if you can wait half an hour. We were supposed to be going out for lunch but he had to take his break early. Would that be okay?" Amber smiled across at her.

Angela's heart sank, of all the doctors in the practise he was the last person she wanted to see, but she had to get an answer today, "thanks, that'd be great,"

Amber grinned and made a note of the new appointment on the computer, "you can take a seat just over there if you'd like,"

Angela returned the smile and chose her spot from amongst the array of empty plastic chairs. She took off her coat and looked up at the range of posters on the walls advocating healthy diet and exercise. She looked over at the pregnant woman sitting on the other side of the room; she wondered if she was happily married or living with her partner, if she had been trying for a baby for a long time or if it had been a welcome surprise.

People came and went as Angela sat there waiting to be called in. She took out her diary and tried to recall the necessary dates that she would need to know if the doctor was to confirm her fears. Before she knew it, her name was called.

The walk to the consulting room seemed to take an age; it was as though the corridor continued to extend ahead of her and she couldn't seem to get any closer to her destination. When she at last arrived at the correct door she knocked twice before entering. Inside the room was bright and airy, with windows overlooking the small well kept gardens behind the building.

"I thought I'd misread the name, "

Angela smiled gingerly, "no, it's me. Doctor Skolnick is away and it's kind of important,"

Brian sat forward in his chair as Angela took a seat opposite him.

"How are you? I mean, apart from whatever it is you're here to see me about?"

His hair was shorter these days than it used to be, and his features were sharper. She hadn't seen him in over a year, not since she attended his wedding to Amber.

"I'm okay I guess. The thing I'm here about, it's kind of awkward. I wouldn't have come to you except that I really need to know something for sure,"

Brian shook his head, "there's no need to be embarrassed, I see all sorts of things. I removed a household object from a gentleman's-, well from somewhere it shouldn't have been yesterday. I can handle whatever you have to throw at me, "

Angela grimaced at the image of the anecdote, "I need to know-, I mean I need to do a test to be certain. I've been on the pill but I feel like I might be-,"

"You want me to do a pregnancy test," he stated simply, cutting through her stumbling.

"I would have done it myself but-, I guess I was scared,"

Brian nodded, choosing his next words carefully, "do you have a preferred answer?"

"I've been taking the contraceptive pill for years, what do you think?" she shook her head, "I mean is that even possible?"

"It's not impossible. We should probably do the test first but if you've missed taking a pill or you've vomited or-,"

"I haven't been ill at all until yesterday, and I don't forget. Ever." Her shoulders sagged and she sighed, unable to keep her fears to herself any longer. "My situation is complicated Brian. I really need to know,"

"Okay so let's just get it over and done with then. We can worry about the "hows" and "whens" later. I can do a urine test today, a blood test if there's any shred of doubt,"

Brian had always been her confidant. They had never lost touch; throughout college she called him regularly with questions about her work and her life. Brian met Ben twice; once when they met for dinner when Brian got engaged to Amber, and then at their wedding eight months later. They got on well; they were similar in some ways, though Brian lacked Ben's capacity for the single-minded pursuit of material gain.

He returned with the result after just a few minutes. His face told her all she needed to know. Shaking her head in disbelief she took a deep breath and waited for his confirmation.

"The simple answer is that you are pregnant,"

"I don't understand this,"

"The pill is generally up to 99% effective but if you've been on any other medication or if you have forgotten to take a pill on one or more occasions then-," he stopped, as she vigorously shook her head. "Is there an issue with the parentage?" Brian bit his lip, knowing the question he posed was a delicate one.

"I'm leaving Ben. I've been seeing someone else for the last few weeks, we've slept together,"

"Have you also slept with Ben?"

"Yes, it's been a couple of weeks but yes,"

"You haven't been using any other form of contraception?"

Angela shook her head slowly, raising her hands to rub her face.

Brian felt his face turn red; he'd spoken to her before about intimate issues but this seemed beyond anything he'd had to tackle before where she was concerned. "You haven't known this other guy very long". It came out more as a statement of fact than a question.

"I've known him for years Brian, it's Jordan,"

Brian attempted to disguise his shock with a cough but it turned out more like a splutter, "Jordan Catalano?"

"Yes Jordan Catalano,"

A silence fell between them; Jordan had always managed to do that. "You're going to leave Ben to be with him?"

"It feels right this time,"

"Well I can't say for certain but the nausea and the tiredness would suggest you're at least three or four weeks,"

Angela nodded in resignation.

"Does that mean Jordan-,"

"Is probably not the father,"

"Given a little more time we will be able to say with more certainty". He looked down at his desk, rearranging the smattering of stationary that had collected there, "what are you going to do now?"

Angela sighed, wiping a stray tear from beneath her eye, "I have to tell Jordan,"

**Yikes it's been a crazy long time since the last chapter, it seems to have zoomed by. Sorry, I will try to get another chapter up asap. Thank you for the continued support and reviews, they mean a lot xx**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you for the reviews. I had time for another update so here we go.**

**Just in case anyone else was a bit confused, Brian's wife Amber is not Rayanne's mum! Lol it never even crossed my mind when I wrote it but thank you to helveticajones for pointing it out! xx**

**Right, now I'm going to make things even more complicated ...**

Brian wasn't entirely sure what to say next, or what to do next. Angela was sitting silently staring into her lap. He was never entirely sure what to do when it came to Angela. He was glad they had remained in contact, he liked being part of her life; even if it wasn't the part he'd always hoped he would play. But meeting Amber had been like a veil lifted from in front of his face, for the first time he saw that there was life after Angela, and with Amber that life could be a good one, great even.

"Are you-," he began, "going to be okay?"

Angela took a deep breath as if awoken from a sleep, "yeah,"

"If you want to talk to someone, you know where we are,"

"Thanks Brian,"

She pulled on her coat and collected her bag before leaving the office, turning as she did so to offer him a grateful smile. As she walked back up the corridor she consoled herself with the thought that at least one of her questions had been answered; she was pregnant. The idea that the baby was Ben's and not Jordan's made her dizzy, she ducked into the washroom just outside the waiting room to take a moment to compose herself. Staring at her reflection in the mirror she was suddenly overcome with fear. Her first instinct was to go to Jordan, but what if he didn't want anything more to do with her? She scolded herself for even imagining he could be so heartless, but still the doubts refused to subside completely. Then there was Ben. If it was his child then she would never be completely free of him; there was no way she could prevent him from seeing his own child – he didn't deserve that.

As she walked back through the waiting room Amber called to her from behind the reception desk, "Angela! Catch up soon?"

She nodded, smiling, and pushed open the door to the outside.

When Jordan opened the front door he was stripped to the waist and splattered with paint, having been hard at work all morning building the prototype for one of his chair designs.

"Back so soon?"

The walk from her car to the door had been one of the longest of her life. Three times she had paused because her eyes had filled with tears. She wanted to remain calm for as long as possible because she needed to be sure that she handled the situation properly. But the sight of him, his eyes filled with his hopes and dreams, brought the tears back again.

His smile slipped as a tear sparkled in the light. His hands instinctively reached for her waist and he pulled her into him, holding her close and gently rubbing her back as her breath hitched and her tears scolded his shoulder.

"Hey, what is it? What's wrong?"

She pressed herself hard against him, as if willing herself to melt into his body. She let his presence surround her and the heat of his skin warm her own.

"Come inside, come on,"

He led her up to the sitting room where they had shared their first kiss in five years just a few weeks earlier. She couldn't believe how much had happened since then; how far her life had moved on. Jordan sat down on the battered leather couch and pulled her down next to him, never letting go of her hand and guiding her immediately back into his embrace. She rested her head against his chest and listened to his heart beat.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

For a moment all of her prior worries and fears seemed like a dream; the only reality was here, in this house, with him. But she knew it wasn't true. She sat upright to face him; his clear blue eyes and questioning frown taking her breath away.

"I have to tell you something," she began, dropping her eye line to toy with the zip on the pocket of his trousers.

With a finger beneath her chin he encouraged her to make eye contact.

"What is it?"

Angela opened her mouth but the words refused to form. She took a deep shaky breath and buried her face in his chest once again, "I can't. I can't,"

He stroked the back of her head softly, trying to console her from the agony for which he had no explanation. "You can tell me anything,"

"I'm frightened," she sobbed.

"Don't be. There's no need. Whatever it is, we'll deal with it together,"

She slowly raised her head to look at him again, "I went to the doctor". She almost didn't need to say anymore, she could tell from his face he knew the rest already, "I'm pregnant Jordan, three or four weeks,"

Jordan let out a short sigh, he turned away to face the window.

"I'm sorry," she continued, "I don't know how it happened, I thought I was being careful,"

"Not careful enough," he said simply, "so you're relationship with him wasn't completely sexless then?"

"I never said that it was,"

"Have you been sleeping with him whilst we've been seeing each other?" he said coldly. His tone reminded her of the day she met him in his garage after ditching him at the abandoned house.

Angela shook her head, "no, of course not Jordan,"

He remained looking out of the window but Angela could see his hand was clenched in a tight fist, to the extent she knew he must be hurting himself. She rested her hand on top of his and worked to lace her fingers into his grasp. He let her in gradually; finally taking tight hold of her hand.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, leaning against his turned back, "please don't leave me on my own now. Whatever you want to do, I'll do,"

After a few more moments he returned to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head tenderly. She reached up to caress his face, turning her head to study his expression; his eyes closed, his brow furrowed, biting his lip.

"I need a minute,"

He sat up abruptly, stood, robbing her of his warmth, and left the room.

Angela sank back into the couch, pulling her knees up under her chin and closing her eyes, fighting the crushing depression that was threatening to steal her emotions.

Jordan gulped down a glass of water, leaning against the worktop for support. He couldn't quite place the emotional heat that pounded through his body. It made no sense to be angry. He had no right to be angry. Perhaps it was frustration, that numbing feeling that nothing in life is ever allowed to be perfect. Or more likely it was disappointment; disappointment in himself for not seeing it coming – of course nothing is going to be perfect, this is Jordan Catalano's life after all.

As she studied the countless mementos and artefacts that adorned the living room shelves, Angela tried to gather her thoughts. The idea that she was pregnant still hadn't quite sunk in. She had taken on board the implications of it from the perspective of her relationship with Jordan but she hadn't actually spent much time dwelling on the reality of the fact she might be a mother in eight month's time. She began to think back; trying to work out when it could have happened. She scoured her brain trying to pinpoint a morning when she might, for some reason, have forgotten to take her pill. Any time when her routine might have changed, or something happened that could have distracted her.

Goosebumps rose on her skin as it suddenly dawned on her. The only time anything had been different, the only time anything could have happened to distract her, the only time there could have been the slightest possibility that she would have forgotten – the week Evie stayed with them. Bob had gone away on business for the week and Evie, as only Evie could, had insisted on staying with Angela and Ben. Every morning Angela had made her breakfast before work as she sat at the table reading the newspapers and complaining about the temperature of the room. Angela recalled their conversation over dinner the night Ben proposed, the way in which Evie had oh so subtly raised the possibility of children.

Every morning Angela's routine was the same. She woke up, reluctantly climbed out of bed, took a shower, got dressed, collected her pill from the bathroom cabinet, walked down to the kitchen, ran herself a glass of water, took the pill, made her breakfast, ate her breakfast, and left for work-

A floorboard creaked, signalling Jordan had re-entered the room. Angela was roused from her thoughts and looked up, eager to judge his expression. He was still downcast, but she could not see any anger in his eyes as she had feared. She remained huddled in the corner of the couch and he merely slumped down in front of her and leant back into her arms. She held him gladly, resting her head on top of his.

"What do you want me to do?" she uttered finally.

After a moment Jordan sat upright, "this is your child, nothing else matters,"

Angela couldn't help the tears that returned to her eyes, "but what if it's not yours?"

"Family is about more than just biology," he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and wiped her tears away, "surely if anyone knows that, it's us. We'll be okay. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten angry, I just-,"

"It's okay," she assured him, running her hand down the side of his face. He placed a hand on her stomach and for the first time Angela felt the joy, familiar to most mothers, of carrying a new life. "But it does change things doesn't it?"

"It changes things," Jordan admitted, "but life is full of complications, we both know that. You were prepared to take on Jay-,"

"This is different,"

He nodded, "I know. But the fact remains," he took hold of her hand, "I love you and I'm prepared to overcome whatever it takes to be with you,"

Angela fought back the tears as she leant in to kiss him again, lingering to rest her head against his and wrapping her legs around him to pull him closer to her.

As she drove home, Angela continued to think over the events of Evie's stay. She recalled one particular morning when Evie announced she was expecting delivery of some porcelain ornaments she had ordered. Sure enough, moments after Angela arrived in the kitchen the doorbell rang and, despite it being her delivery, Evie had indicated that Angela should go and collect it.

Angela's grip of the steering wheel tightened as the accusation gathered force in her mind and after arriving home she almost immediately set out again, turning not ten minutes later into the smart road that paid host to the Simmons' residence.

Their house was expansive and sat in several acres of grounds. Even after visiting so many times over the last few years, Angela still didn't know what they used all the rooms for. They held parties there almost every weekend for various business and society acquaintances, opening up the entire lower floor of the house, as well as the lawn, to guests. A swimming pool was concealed behind a high trellis off to one side, and beyond that were two tennis courts; though neither of them swam and they never played tennis. To Angela's mind, the best part of the whole property was the small walled garden at the very bottom of the lawn; a haven of tranquillity that she had often escaped to when she and Ben had been included in the Simmons' guest list.

As Angela brought the car to a standstill in the driveway in front of the house she suddenly realised that she had no real idea what she was going to say to Evie. The housekeeper answered the door; Lizzie was a woman in her mid-thirties who looked perpetually worried ... quite natural in the presence of Evie Simmons Angela always supposed. Lizzie welcomed Angela inside informing her that Evie was in the sun room.

Sure enough Angela found Evie sat at the large round table in the sun room – so called due to the series of arched floor to ceiling windows looking out over the garden that constituted two walls of the room. Evie looked up from her novel as Angela entered.

"What a lovely surprise," she grinned - perhaps even sincerely.

"I thought I'd drop by,"

"Not at work?"

"No, I wasn't feeling too well,"

"Oh". Evie removed her reading glasses, folding in their arms and placing them in their case, "you do look a little pale. Not the flu is it?"

"No," Angela smiled, "just a little under the weather, I'm sure I'll be better soon. Shall I get us some coffee?"

"I can ask Lizzie to do it,"

"No no," Angela insisted, "I'll get it,"

"We can have a nice chat, just the two of us,"

Again Angela smiled, dropping her handbag down beside the table before turning back toward the kitchen.

The kitchen, like the rest of the house, was impressively large. Angela quickly turned on the kettle and took down two cups ready to make the coffee. She crept out of the kitchen, being especially careful to pass the door into the sun room in silence, and tip toed up the stairs.

Evie and Bob's bedroom was at the end of the corridor. It was decorated in a sickly pink colour with busy flowery fabrics for the curtains and bed linen. Angela moved quickly through to their bathroom where she opened the medicine cabinet, looking for one box in particular. Every morning Evie took a herbal tablet, which she claimed kept her hair thick, though it had been growing thinner every year Angela had known her. She took it religiously and Angela recalled that when she stayed at their house Evie always took it with a glass of water at the breakfast table. After sifting through various boxes of pain relief and supplements Angela found the correct box and took out a sheet of the tablets, pushing one out on to her palm. She took a box of her contraceptive pills out of her coat pocket, which she had collected on her brief stop at home, and pushed one of them out to sit alongside the other. They were almost identical.

All but convinced her suspicions were correct, Angela pocketed both tablets and hurried back downstairs just in time to pour the steaming hot water into two mugs.

Ben sat at his desk attempting to make his pen stand upright. He succeeded for a moment before it fell once again horizontal.

Sitting back in his chair he glanced down at his watch, nearly 12.30. He spent a few moments rolling up his tie into a sausage before allowing it to unravel back down the front of his shirt. Then he took the opportunity to rearrange the paperclips sitting in a shallow dish next to his half empty mug of coffee. He glanced at his watch again, sighed briefly in frustration, before standing, whipping his jacket off the back of his chair and moving swiftly to the door.

Outside, a middle aged woman sat at a desk decorated with a small Christmas tree in a red pot. She looked up as he emerged.

"I'm going for lunch, if Mr Hadensfeld calls please tell him I'll call back in an hour,"

"Yes Mr Simmons," the woman replied.

Ben quickly exited the modern office building in the center of town that housed his father's firm, collecting his car from the small parking lot around the corner. He sat in the car for a while, breathing deeply and occasionally running his fingers through his hair – more out of tension than any real aesthetic need. Eventually he took a final deep inhalation and started the car, pulling out of the lot and driving about five minutes east to one of the less desirable neighbourhoods. He stowed his car in a small garage under a run-down apartment building and climbed the steps up to the door, pressing the buzzer for flat number two. The door clicked open and he entered, climbing yet another set of steps up to the second floor and knocking on the door that greeted him at the top.

Angela and Evie sipped their coffee. Evie had spent about ten minutes explaining the plot of the novel she was reading; a crime thriller about the murder of an elderly woman by a young relative whom she had driven mad with her outrageous demands. Angela could relate.

"I spoke again to Lone Oak Hall. They want to know when you would be able to make some decisions on catering?"

Angela took a long, slow sip of her coffee, "I don't know, I would have to check with Ben,"

"Oh he doesn't know anything about that sort of thing. It's best if you handle it yourself,"

"I'm not sure I really know all that much either,"

"Well I'll come with you of course," she said, as though it would be stupid to think otherwise, "I can give you as much help as you need; catering, colour schemes, honeymoon destinations-," she raised her eyebrows as if a thought had just occurred to her, "on which note, what do you think about Mexico?"

"Politically or-,"

"No," Evie giggled, waving her hand in the air like it was the funniest thing she's heard all year, "there are some beautiful resorts down there, perfect for total relaxation. You have to make the most of it you know, might be the last chance you get to be alone together hmmm?" she took a sip of her coffee, eyeing Angela over the rim, "maybe you'll be welcoming a new life in the not so distant future?"

Angela swallowed hard; the urge to slap her across the head with her own crime novel was almost uncontrollable. However she managed to keep her inner imaginings from seeping into her features, simply raising her eyebrows casually, "we haven't really talked that much about children Evie, I don't know that we've reached the stage in our lives yet where we might consider it,"

Evie, to her credit, managed to maintain her smile, "so there's," she paused, her vocal pitch lifting to way above her usual range, "no chance that you might be-,"

Angela stared at her coldly across the table, "no Evie," she said simply, "I'm being careful at the moment,"

Evie scoffed, "with your own soon-to-be husband?" She glanced out of the window, her smile fading for just a moment, "shall I get us some biscuits hmm? I'm rather hungry". And with that, she disappeared to the kitchen.

The door of flat number two opened and a young woman with waist length dark hair leant provocatively against the door frame. Her black top hung low, revealing an ample portion of bra and just about reaching far enough to conceal her panties. She took a long drag on a cigarette and flicked some ash on to the floor by his feet.

"I thought you said you wouldn't be coming to see me anymore?"

Ben shifted uncomfortably in the hallway, rubbing the back of his neck. The woman simply held out her hand, placing the cigarette again between her lips. Ben took out a couple of notes from his pocket and held them out to her. She stepped aside and he followed her inside.


End file.
