And even worse, I'd fallen in love too. I'm not even sure when I fell for him anymore. It may have been that first awkward meeting in the hallway, it may have been the first time I cried in his arms, it may have been him telling me I was beautiful, or it may have even been the first time I heard him sing, that deeply moving song that still touched me. All I knew for sure was that I did. I fell madly in love, and that ache added to my current one, as I watched Denny's eyes gloss over with un-concealable pain.

"When I saw the two of you in the parking lot...actually saw the passion between you...I hated him so much. I hated what he took from me. I wanted to end him, for treating you like one of his groupies." He shook his head and cut me off when I tried to object. "It never occurred to me that he was in love. It never occurred to me that you were in love. It never occurred to me to blame you at all. I had you on this pedestal..."

I nodded and looked down, the tears stinging my eyes, threatening to spill. I wasn't worthy of being on a pedestal, and from the look I'd seen in his eye when he said that...I thought maybe he now agreed. Quietly, and feeling very foolish, I confirmed that he should view me differently. "We were. We were in love...and we both never wanted to hurt you."

He sighed and lowered his head. "I know. I think I know that now." He rubbed his fingers down the side of my hand, tracing patterns in the skin subconsciously while he thought. Finally, he spoke again. "The fight...it was like..." He looked back up at me. "It felt like I was outside of myself, watching a really horrid movie that I couldn't shut off. I don't even really remember all of what I said or did. It was like I walked away from my body for a second."

I nodded and looked away, hating what I'd driven him to. At the sound of his strained accent, I turned back to look at him. "All I felt was hate. All I could see was red." His eyes searched mine as he spoke, occasionally drifting to the injury he never let himself forget about. "I couldn't control anything my body was doing. I just wanted to hurt him." He sighed again and looked at the ceiling. "I think I may have gone insane."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I could have lost everything...everything." He reopened his eyes and I frowned at the sorrow on his face. "Kellan is the reason I'm not in cuffs for assault right now."

My mouth dropped open and my brow scrunched together so hard, it hurt my head. His dark eyes looked over my confused face. "I beat the shit out of him, Kiera. I knocked you unconscious. I could have kill... I could have seriously hurt you, both of you. People go to jail for that kind of stuff. But I'm not. I'm leaving the Country soon, and the only reason I can do that...is because Kellan covered for me."

I shook my head. "I don't understand."

He smiled softly and his face relaxed. "I know." His fingers in my hand started stroking my skin, and I relaxed as his anger seemed to fade. "When you went down, once we knew you were still breathing, still alive," he shrugged, "he made me leave."

"Leave?"

Denny nodded and smiled ruefully. "I didn't want to. I wanted to help you. I wanted to do something, anything. He yelled some...not pleasant things at me, and told me that I'd be hauled off if I didn't leave." Denny's eyes drifted to the dark windows and they seemed to darken in kind, like he was absorbing that blackness into himself. "You were so pale...so tiny...barely breathing. He held you so tight, and I wanted to be the one..." He exhaled and closed his eyes.

"He convinced me that I had to leave and call for help, and then when the paramedics got there, he would tell them the both of you were mugged. That they beat him up and when you went to help him, they attacked you." He sighed and brought his eyes back to my surely wide-open ones. "He even gave me his wallet, to make it look more real." He shook his head and looked back to the windows. "Everyone bought it. I showed up later at the hospital, and no one even questioned me."

He looked back to me and his eyes held immense grief and guilt. "It's like I got away with it...with hurting you and him...because of him." He looked down and a tear dropped to my sheet. I automatically brushed his cheek dry and he looked back up to me. "It kind of kills me."

I shook my head. "No...don't feel that way. He was right. You've been punished enough for our mistakes. You shouldn't lose everything because we drove you to...to..." My tears welled up again and I couldn't contain it, or the need to embrace him. I threw my arms around him and he stiffened, but finally relaxed and hugged me back. "I'm so sorry, Denny."

He exhaled brokenly and rubbed my back. "I know, Kiera" He clutched me to him tightly, and I felt his body start to shake. "I'm sorry too. I'm so sorry."

He let me hold him for most of that night, in fact nearly all of it. Somewhere, in-between our repeated mutual apologies, we fell asleep holding each other, and by morning I felt certain that while we would never be what we once were to each other, we would always be connected in some way. And I found immense comfort in that.

Chapter 25

Goodbyes

The following morning I was cleared to leave. My sister was delighted at the news and actually kissed the doctor on the cheek when he told her. As she was wearing her Hooters outfit - tighter than tight orange shorts and a much too opaque, white logoed tank top - the doctor blushed furiously and quickly fled the room. My sister giggled attractively and helped me dress and brush out my bed mangled hair.

I watched the doors while we waited for the okay to leave. I wasn't sure who I was hoping would come to see me off - Denny or Kellan. I hadn't seen Kellan again, and when I asked my sister, she would only frown softly and say that he was "around". I remembered that he hadn't wanted her to mention to me that he was hanging around the hospital, and wondered if he'd found out about her slipup.

I'd hurt him enough that he couldn't make himself even see me, but not so much that he could leave me completely alone. I had no idea what that meant. He said he still loved me and I certainly still loved him. Even now, even after my mistake in the parking lot, after Denny's awful discovery, and the fight that still woke me up screaming sometimes, I loved him...and missed him. But I understood his need to be away from me, to finally let me go.

Jenny came in while we waited and sat on the bed with me, occasionally stroking my arm or tucking some hair behind my ear, revealing my yellowing bruise. She told Anna and me stories of the bar and the crazy things some of the customers had done. She started to tell a story about Evan and Matt ganging up on Griffin, but stopped shortly after mentioning their names. I didn't know if that was because she thought I didn't want to hear about men so close to Kellan, or if it was because Kellan was in the story too. I couldn't bring myself to ask her.

Anna grabbed the reins of the conversation once Griffin's name was half-heartedly mentioned, and by the end of her story, even sweet 'whatever floats your boat' Jenny was blushing furiously. Anna was laughing huskily about that as Denny walked through the door.

He waved a greeting to the room and I startled to see him during the day...and in casual clothes. When I asked him if he should be at work, he shrugged and said that he took the day off to help me get settled. He raised his eyebrows at my expression and dryly said, "What are they gonna do, fire me?"

I smiled and thanked him, and the four of us chatted amicably until I was discharged.

Two hours later, I was staring out at a view of Lake Union from the two bedroom apartment building my sister had managed to find and acquire, in one afternoon. Granted, the apartment was tiny. The kitchen had space for the stove, refrigerator, and a dishwasher, a slab of Formica above it being considered the counter. The two bedrooms were on opposite ends of a short hall and I had to smile that my sister's had the full length closet, while mine was only half the size. My room had a futon and a dresser and my sister's had a mattress on a low bed frame with a nightstand. The bathroom was the shower only kind, and was already overflowing with my sister's beauty products. The living room and dining room were combined, and a rickety folding table indicated where we'd be eating. The remainder of the space was filled with an ancient looking orange couch and a chair that I knew from experience, was the single most comfortable chair in the world. My heart seized as I ran a hand along the back of it. It was Kellan's...and it was the only semi-decent piece of furniture he owned.

As Denny was watching me curiously, I brushed my fingers over my cheeks, swallowed repeatedly, and sat on the ugly orange couch. Denny made up a small lunch with some groceries he'd picked up for me, Anna left for her job, and Jenny sat by me on the couch, turning on some soaps on the tiny television tucked in the corner. I half-watched TV with her, half-ate the sandwich Denny made me, and cast several looks at the comfortable chair... that no one was sitting in.

The following week, while I recovered and adapted to my new home and my sister's fanciful presence, things had adjusted into a sort of new routine. Jenny would come and visit in the afternoons, sometimes with Kate, and try to get me out of the apartment and back to work at Pete's. I'd shake my head at both suggestions, and stay buried in warm blankets on the growing-on-me ugly couch.

My sister would head off to work, telling me that they were looking for another girl, and sisters would be a huge tip-maker, which, of course made me blush at just the thought of wearing those tight shorts. Then she'd come back later in the evening with an obscenely large wad of cash from those tips...and sometimes with Griffin's hands firmly attached to that absurdly tight uniform. On those nights, I wished our apartment was a little bigger, or soundproof.

And Denny stopped by every night after he got off work. I marveled at first that he was still so attentive, after everything I'd done to him. But I did notice the emotions he didn't want me to see - the tightness around his eyes when he looked at Kellan's chair, the sadness in his features when he looked over my body, and the guilt he'd swallow back when he looked at my bruise.

His voice also betrayed the casualness of his actions. He'd harden up whenever we talked about our history; I tried not to bring it up very often. He'd crack and have to swallow and restart if we talked about that night, about the fight; I tried to do that even less. And he'd refuse to talk at all about Kellan, only saying that he rarely saw him, but when he did things were "cordial". In fact, the only time his voice warmed and his accent thickened in an excited way, was when he spoke of going home, of starting his new job and seeing his family.

I was equally delighted and scared of that prospect that was looming larger every day. It seemed to grow larger and larger every time he visited. As I got better, he got more and more anxious to be gone. By the end of the week, we talked less and less about "us" and he talked more and more about his job. It was no surprise to me when he told me he'd moved up his flight a few days early. It was no surprise, but it still hurt tremendously.

A few days later found me driving him to the airport in his Honda, wanting that final goodbye, that closure. I walked with him through the sea of holiday travelers and held his hand, which he surprisingly let me; he usually tried to keep our physical contact minimal. I thought maybe he was savoring every last minute as well.

When we finally arrived at his gate, I froze and my mouth dropped open in complete shock. Sitting on a chair and staring at his cast, which was completely covered in writing and drawings, was Kellan. He looked up as we approached and my heart sped up. He looked better since I'd last seen him at the hospital, only a bluish bruise at the base of his eye and a couple of pink scratches marred his perfection, or perhaps they amplified it. Whatever the case...he was stunning.

He stood as Denny slowly walked over to him. Denny reflexively clutched my hand tighter for a second, and then he dropped it completely. I struggled to keep Denny's slow pace over to where he waited, my eyes never leaving Kellan's face.

His deep blue eyes however, were locked only on Denny's. He seemed to be purposely avoiding looking at me. I didn't know if he did that for Denny's benefit...or his own.

He held his hand out to Denny in a symbol of friendship. His eyes studied Denny's face as Denny studied the offered hand. With a small sigh, that to me, echoed loudly throughout the noisy, crowd covered room, Denny grabbed his hand and firmly shook it. The corners of Kellan's lips curled up in a tiny smile and he nodded briefly at Denny.