I think my heart stopped. It's one of those moments where you know your reaction is critical, and it's also one of those moments where you have absolutely no control over your reaction. If I'd had some semblance of control, I probably would not have reacted the way I did. No, I'm positive I would not have reacted the way I did. I would have been warm and caring and sympathetic. I would have held him and tearfully asked him what was happening to him. I would have encouraged him to sob in my arms and open up to me, and then his entire family and I would share a Norman Rockwell type group hug and we'd be a stronger unit for the revelation. That's how I should have responded.

This is how I did...

"That's not funny, Teren." I stood from the table, tossed down my silverware with an angry clink on the china, probably chipping it, and stormed from the room.

I trounced up the stairs, clomping angrily up each one. I wasn't sure why I was so angry. Was I angry at finding the greatest, most unique guy I'd ever met, just to have him be ripped away from me? Was I angry that he hadn't told me immediately-like, "Hello, my name is Teren and I'm dying," would have been a more suitable introduction than the one he'd given me? Or was I angry at the universe, for taking something that was too precious to leave?

Whatever the reason, I slammed our bedroom door shut so hard, that it rattled in the frame and a tiny sliver of wood fell to the carpet. I stared at the door and considered doing it again, when it suddenly opened.

Teren calmly entered the room that must have been ten degrees warmer due to my rage, and softly shut the door behind him. I knew that was a pointless gesture, they could all hear us. He may as well have left it open. Hell, we may as well of had this conversation in the dining room. I started pacing beside the bed and he watched me warily, like at any moment I might leap on him...which was a tempting thought.

I examined him as I paced. He looked fine. He looked tan and strong and healthy-downright vibrant. He was fast. He was smart. He was virile. He was...alive. He looked anything but sick. We were supposed to have a chance. He was supposed to be my shot-my one shot at real companionship. I grabbed a decorative pillow, that sort-of looked like a giant Tootsie Roll, and chucked it at him.

"You're dying!"

He easily dodged the pillow, and the next one that I immediately threw at him. "Just my body...I'll be fine," he said, as he dodged a third one.

"You'll be fine!" I chucked a larger pillow at him, which also missed when he easily ducked. "Oh good! I was thrown off by the whole DYING part!" I yelled and tossed another pillow, which he avoided. "STOP DODGING!" I yelled as loud as I possibly could.

He sighed and stopped moving, and I pelted him with the last of the pillows-three square ones with elaborately twisted tassels. They hit his chest with a satisfying thud, and dropped to the floor at his feet. "Can we talk about this now?" he asked softly.

"No! Throw them back!"

He furrowed his brow and cocked his head. "What?"

I hopped on top of the bed and paced up there, my blood still boiling. "The pillows, throw them back up here as fast as your inhuman ass can."

I heard him loudly exhale but I could no longer see him, as he was just a streaking of movement. Pillows magically appeared around me and then he was standing still and waiting, with a frustrated expression on his attractive, doomed face.

I started chucking pillows again, and this time he let every single one hit him. "You son of a bitch!" A couple pillows hit his chest. "You couldn't have told me this before we came here?" A couple pillows smacked his thighs. "You couldn't have mentioned you had months to live?" A particularly good toss clipped his head and he slowly exhaled and gritted his teeth. "What happened to giving me a heads up?" The last pillow smacked him soundly in the chest. I sank onto the middle of the bed, my anger sapped with my last toss. I felt the tears starting and blinked several times.

He walked through the sea of gold and cream fabric, and crawled up to sit beside me. "I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you...it's just a hard thing to bring up in casual conversation."

I looked over at him as a stubborn tear dripped from my eye. "Hey, don't care for me, I'm dying, would have worked," I muttered sullenly.

"Come here." He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me tight to him. I swallowed several times to calm my emotions and my tears, and rested a hand over his perfectly thumping heart. "It's not as bad as you think, Emma," he whispered.

"Death is bad," I whispered back.

"I won't be dead-dead. Only the human side is dying. I'll still be vampire, just like Mom and Gran."

"What?" I looked up at him, thoroughly confused.

He rubbed my shoulder as he comforted me, and the realization that the dying man was comforting me and not vice-versa, wasn't lost on me. My guilt only added to my kaleidoscopically twisting emotions-anger, grief, confusion, betrayal. You name it, I was probably feeling it.

"We don't know why, but when we mixed breeds turn twenty-five, the human side of us kind of...gives out. For all intents and purposes we die, and the vampiric side takes over. That's what happened to Gran and Mom, and it's happening to me. I won't make it to twenty-six."

I searched his pale eyes and shook my head. "The human side dies...what does that mean? What will happen to you?"

With a soft smile on his lips, he gazed deep into my eyes and described his demise. "My heart will stop. I will no longer need to breathe. My skin will cool. I will no longer be able to eat regular food...and I'll live solely on blood."

"You'll be a true vampire," I whispered.

He shook his head. "No, I'll just be more of one than I am now. I'll be more like the others."

My face paled as I connected what he'd said, with the memories I had of meeting his family-the youthful appearances, the cool skin, only drinking blood. "Oh...Gran and your mother. That's why they don't age...they're dead."

He nodded. "Technically, yes, although it's hard to think of them that way, isn't it?"

I scrunched my eyebrows together as I absorbed his fate. He'd be dead and yet alive. He'd be cold, and his chest would be silent, and he'd consist solely on blood, just like a creature straight out of a horror movie...and I'd be dating him. Or would I? This was a lot for a girl to take in. I'd overlooked the fangs and the occasional chicken-draining, mainly because he'd seemed so human. If everything that made him like me was suddenly lost...could I live with that? Could I fall in love with that? Was it too late?

"Your family says you're running out of time...to do what? What is it they want you to do before you die?"

He stood then, and started kicking pillows out of the way so he could pace beside the bed. Angry, he put his hands on his hips and shook his head. "Gran and Great-Gran just can't keep their big mouths shut. I did not want to have this conversation this weekend," he muttered as he walked. He glanced over at me on the bed, where I was watching him with my brow furrowed. I had the sudden feeling that whatever he was about to tell me, it was somehow going to be worse than the "I'm dying" speech. He stopped in front of me, his hands still on his hips. "Please understand that I wasn't going to mention this, because it doesn't matter to me."

My brow scrunched even more. "Okay," I said slowly.

He exhaled forcefully and ran a hand down his face. "They want a baby before I die," he whispered.

I shot up off the bed that suddenly felt like it was on fire. "They what?"

He held his hands out, as if to placate me. "They just want to keep the line alive, and we can't have children once the human side dies, so they're putting a lot of pressure on me to...to..."

"Knock me up!" I yelled, looking around for a pillow to chuck at him again. Unfortunately, he had kicked all of the ones near me to the other side of the room. "Are you kidding me? We've been together a month, Teren-a month!"

I started pacing beside the bed again, roughly brushing past where he was standing. He stepped back and tried to grab me as I walked by. "I know, Emma. That's why I wasn't going to mention it." I blocked his hands and kept pacing. "That's what they want, not me." He successfully grabbed my waist when I passed by him again, and pulled me into his side. "Why do you think I never come out here? It was bad enough when I didn't have a girlfriend, but since we've been together, God, they've been badgering me nonstop!"

I beat on his chest while he held me. "You may have mentioned this while you were spilling your fanged guts out to me! Did you not think your impending death, and your family wanting an heir, might be important enough to mention!" I smacked him good and then his hands grabbed my wrists. I jerked away from his grasp and started pacing again.

"You're really mad, aren't you?"

I stopped at the crest of my pacing track and glared back at him with my hands on my hips. "No. Why would I be mad? Your family only wants you to impregnate me with your vampire seed. Oh wait, no...that's not even right. They want you to impregnate someone, not necessarily me, if I'm not...how did Halina put it? Oh yeah-willing!" He looked down guiltily and I continued pacing...and ranting. "And the whole dying part! Yes, we can't forget that any day now, you'll be the walking dead, so we better get your little buddies doing their job before it's too late-no rush or anything, because you know, you'll be dead!"

He stepped in front of where I was surely wearing a line in the plush carpet and grabbed my shoulders. "I know. I'm sorry. I just didn't know how to tell you any of this."

I inhaled a calming breath and resisted the urge to slug him. "Continually stressing how human you were to me was probably not the best way."

He ran his hands up and down my arms and squatted to look me in the eye. "I am really sorry. It's a hard thing to say all at once. I thought segments would be best."

Very dryly, I said, "Anymore segments I should know about?" He hesitated, and I felt my stomach drop, but eventually he said no. "You might have mentioned all of this before I started falling for you," I said quietly.

He brought a hand to my cheek. "You're falling for me?" His voice was soft and soothing, but nothing else about the situation was, and I jerked away from his tender touch.

"I said starting. I'll just have to see now."

Slight amusement in his voice, he told me, "Take your time. I don't think I'm dying today."

It was not in mine. "Teren, I know you wanted to stay until tomorrow night, but...I want to go home now."

He sighed and looked at the floor. "Is this the deal breaker? Is this the part where I lose you? Where you finally run away screaming?"

I wrapped my arms around his waist and blinked back the sudden tears. "Well, I don't think I'll scream...but you not having a heartbeat is something to consider, and I can't do it here. I need my things, my bed-my comforts. I need to process this and I need to process it alone."

He wrapped his arms around my body and I could feel his heartbeat quicken as my head pressed against his chest. He sighed again and kissed my hair, and an overwhelming sadness drifted over me. Regardless of what we had been, and what I'd been willing to accept of his condition, things were different now. His condition was much more severe than he'd led me to believe, and maybe his family was right about an heir. If I wouldn't supply him with one-and I couldn't even think about that yet-maybe he should find another girl, before it was too late. The very thought made me clutch him tighter though, and try as I might to hold it back, a tear did escape my eye.

After another comforting moment of silence, Teren pulled away and kissed my head again. "I'll pack up our things."

He started blurring around the room, getting everything back together. Suddenly feeling exhausted, I sat on the edge of the bed and watched what little of his streaking form that I could see. The memory of his strong heartbeat echoed in my ear, and I tried to wrap my mind around never hearing that again. It was such a foreign concept to me that I couldn't even process it. I realized then, that Alanna and Imogen, and Halina too, I supposed, were all probably heartbeatless. That made my stomach a little nauseous. Teren stopped moving at the doorway and I noticed both bags full and heavy in his hands. He looked back at me and I had to blink back another tear at the forlorn expression on his face.

"I'll tell everyone we're leaving. I'll meet you in the car in a few minutes."

I nodded, knowing full well that he basically just told everyone we were leaving. Well, I was sure his family had some comments to make on this new development. I was probably being voted off the island at this very moment. I could just hear Halina-"She's weak, Teren, replace her and move on, before it's too late." I thought maybe Imogen would grudgingly agree with her; whatever steps were necessary for her great-grandchild. Alanna...well, I wasn't quite sure where she stood on the subject. Maybe she would defend me, maybe not. I was pretty sure Jack was just going to keep his head down and steer clear of the whole mess-smart man, that one.

Sighing, I stood and replaced the numerous decorative pillows on the bed, hoping to make the room as perfect as we'd found it, and understanding a little more why we were placed in what I had only just now realized, was indeed the most romantic room in the house. Once the room was more or less back in order, I shut the light off and closed the door behind me, shutting out the good memories as well as the bad.

I trudged down the elaborate staircase and once I was at the bottom, I stared at the naked woman statue for several seconds. I dabbed away another stubborn tear and considered heading out to the car and disappearing from this house without even a goodbye. Sighing again, I turned towards the hallway that led to the dining room. I just couldn't be so rude as to not say goodbye. They may all have had a secret agenda in being nice to me this weekend, but they had still been nice, and I could be the same.

I stopped midway down the hall when I heard voices coming from the dining room. I crept a little closer, making sure that I couldn't be seen from the room. Once I was within earshot, I stopped and listened to what sounded like Teren having an argument with Imogen. I knew it was impolite to spy, but honestly, how often does a person get a chance to listen in on vampires discussing, well, anything?

"Teren, dear, I know you really like her but if she's not willing, maybe you should..."

"What if I'm not willing? What if I don't want this? Can't I just be with her, and have you guys happy that I'm happy?"

"Yes, of course we want your happiness but, you are the last of us. If you don't... We'll lose the line, Teren."

"Maybe that's a good thing, Gran. Maybe we shouldn't be continuing...this."

"Please, sweetheart...please?"

"Gran..." Teren sighed heavily.

I silenced my breath as I pressed against the wall. I felt figures shifting in the room, but no one spoke for a few seconds and I considered coming out of hiding. I was just about to make a move, when Teren's mother spoke up.

"Mom, I'd like to speak to my son...alone." Silence followed her statement and then she spoke again. "I think you should stay here with us, Teren."

"We've already been over this, Mom. I want to stay in San Francisco."

"You know the risk you are taking. You should be here, where it's safe."

Teren started speaking in Russian, which riled me a bit. I was really going to have to learn that complicated sounding language.

"You know I care more about you than a child...although, I would like to be a grandmother..."

Teren cut her off with the fast, fluent, foreign speech.

"She could stay here with you, Son. There's no need for you to be apart from her, but here is where you'll be safe, both of you."

More Russian, a little heated now.

"I know that is what you believe, but what if you're wrong? The risk is too high."

More Russian...quite a bit more, he seemed to be ranting.

"Of course I know it's your life. I'm not trying to control you, dear. I'm trying to help. If we were of a different mindset, we'd just come collect you, and you know that. But we've let you stay away...for now." Alanna's tone was starting to get as heated as her son's. I wasn't sure what they were talking about, but I was sure it probably wasn't good.

More insolent sounding foreign tongue. Interesting how arguing with your mom turns you into a five year old, no matter what language you're speaking.

"Of course I know she's listening, but I will not speak that language. She should hear this, Teren. She should understand."

Teren switched back to English and my face heated. Of course they'd known I was here-super ears probably heard every thump of my impossible-to-quiet heart. "This is why I don't visit more often-none of you ever listen to me!" And with that, I could hear him turn towards the hall where I was guiltily eavesdropping.

He grabbed my hand as he walked by me in the hall. "Come on, we're leaving."

He jerked me after him and, looking at the dining room entryway for a second before he literally dragged me away, I saw Alanna's youthful face watch her son leave. Her eyes were so pained, and almost scared, that it shocked the inquisition about their argument straight from my head. As he ushered me from the house, I couldn't even remember the bits of their disagreement that I had understood, I only remembered Alanna's eyes.

Teren opened and closed the car door for me, like a perfect gentleman, but his mouth was tight and he looked stressed. Maybe coming up this weekend wasn't the best plan after all; it had certainly changed things for me.

"Are you all right?" I asked quietly, as he pulled away from the house and screeched down the bumpy drive.

"I'm fine, just an old disagreement, rearing its ugly head."

"One you didn't want me to hear...you were speaking Russian again."

He looked over at me and I could see the debate in his eyes. Turning back to the road, he finally said, "This one is between my mom and me. It has nothing to do with you or a baby...I promise." His tone was soft, but it was also firm. I knew I would get nothing from him if I pressed him about it. I'd also had my quota for the day on difficult conversations, so I let him drop it.

"Why do you speak Russian? Beautifully, I might add."

Maybe reassured that I wasn't going to press him, he smiled and finally relaxed a bit. "Great-Gran was born there, spent her first ten human years there, so she speaks it and taught each of us." He pulled onto the main road and I let go of my death grip on the door handle, since the never-ending jarring bumps were done with.

"Oh. Maybe you could teach me."

Teren looked over to me with wistful eyes and I remembered, once again, how things had changed. Here I was, asking him to teach me a complicated foreign language, when I wasn't even sure if we were still together. Silly me. It's sort of amazing how the brain can block out events, if they're bad enough. But as I watched his eyes drink me in, I remembered our fight, and I remembered why we probably wouldn't make it as a couple. He was a marked man. Death was stalking him and surely if I stayed to close to him, it would stalk me too.

"I would love to teach you someday, Emma."

His voice was quiet, like he understood the unlikeliness of that ever happening. His sad eyes turned back to the road and we made the rest of the sixty mile trip home in absolute silence.

When we got to my house, he wanted to walk me to my door, but I made him stay in the car. That was hard enough, having him at my door would be a near impossible temptation. Because a small part of me wanted to beg him to stay, to come inside and sweep me upstairs, and make me forget everything that was between us. The majority of me knew that was only a patch though, and wouldn't fix anything. It would only make it harder to separate, if that was what we were going to do.

Steeling myself as we sat in his car in the driveway, I looked squarely at him and stated as professionally as I could, "Please don't call or come over. I need time by myself."

He nodded, and his sad eyes glassed over. That nearly broke my resolve. His next sentence kind of did. "May I kiss you goodnight?" This time, I nodded.

That kiss, in the silence of his car, with the blue light from his dashboard splashed across our skin, would remain with me for the rest of my time on this earth. At the moment, it shattered my heart, but upon later reflection, it healed it as well. That one kiss made up my mind about him-it was that powerful. But not yet...that realization came a few lonely nights later.

As the tender warmth of his lips pulled away from me, I swear a piece of me was pulled away as well. I'd never been one to feel dependent on someone else for my own happiness, but gazing at his pale blue eyes, with the barely-there glow that only I could see because only I believed, I knew that I'd never fully be complete in this life without him. But I had so much to think about, and I needed him gone to do it.

I whispered goodbye and grabbed my bag from his trunk. He watched me the entire way, his hands gripping the steering wheel, like he was willing himself to stay in the car. It wasn't until I had my door closed behind me and I heard the electric hum of his car pulling away, that I realized that he never said goodbye to me.

I spent Sunday in bed. I spent Sunday in bed wallowing. I spent Sunday in bed sobbing uncontrollably into my pillow. I knew it was childish, and it wasn't solving any of my problems, but I was allowing myself a day to grieve. I grieved over our ending relationship, the could-be future that never would be, the black-haired, blue-eyed children that we would never raise, the growing old together that we would never do, the dinners we would never eat and the conversations we would never have. I cried over the spectacular sex that we'd never have again and of course, I replayed the last time we'd spent together over and over again, stupidly wishing that I had known it would be the last time, so I could have committed every detail to memory.

Mostly though, I cried for Teren. It's not every day that you hear that someone you care for only has months left to live. Granted, his death was not a permanent one, but it would drastically change things, as death has a tendency to do.

I was crying over the loss of his beautiful heartbeat, when I finally passed out from exhaustion. When I woke up, it was a dreary, rainy Monday morning, like the universe, in some small way, at least felt my pain.

Monday morning at work was like any other Monday morning at work. The people were tired and grumpy from their weekend being over. Clarice was particularly nasty to anyone who didn't seem one hundred and ten percent on their game. And over the thin walls, I could hear whispered conversations of sordid tales, some I'm sure were entirely made up. It was so much like every other Monday that it shocked me. So much had happened to my world that I had forgotten it had only been one weekend. It seemed like months should have passed, and everyone at work should be slightly different.

A grumpy Clarice leaving me with a stack of urgent papers that needed to be copied or faxed or both by noon, reminded me, yet again, how infinitesimal the time away had been. Tracey regaled me with details of her date with Hot Ben which, of course, had become a weekend with Hot Ben. Her blue eyes sparkled while she told me over and over that he was "The One" and they were made for each other; she could feel the lifelong connection already.

I'd heard this speech before. I'd heard this speech several times before, actually. I smiled in all the right places. I nodded, like I was really interested in all the right places. I laughed when she wanted me to and said "how sweet" when she wanted me to. I asked her about the sex, because I could tell she was dying to talk about it. I gave her the encouraging words for her "for certain this time" soul mate, in all the places she wanted to hear them.

Meanwhile, my head was calculating the possible flaws Hot Ben had that Tracey would find irreconcilable in the next three months. Maybe he snored. Maybe he left the toilet seat up. Maybe he spit uncontrollably when he was outside. Maybe he called his mom too much. Maybe he'd lose his magic in bed. Maybe his toes were too long. There was always something with Tracey, something that spoiled the blissfulness of first attraction, and had her dumping the man cold. I was fairly certain that whatever flaws Tracey found in Hot Ben...they paled in comparison to the dilemma I was facing. At least her boyfriend had a pulse.

Finally, her exuberant reminiscing ended and she seemed to notice my mood for the first time, even though I was trying very hard to be upbeat and normal. "You okay? How did the weekend with the In-laws-to-be go?" Her blue eyes narrowed in concern, and while they weren't the same shade as Teren's, they were close enough that my heart physically ached.

"We left Saturday," I stated meekly.

She cringed. "Oh, that bad huh? Were they real monsters or something?"

I inadvertently giggled, which in turn made me cry a little. I dabbed my eyes while she put a hand on my shoulder. "No, they were fine...I guess, but Teren and I kind of broke up."

She immediately hugged me and I swallowed, so no more tears would flow. Really, tear-apalooza all day yesterday was quite enough. "Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry. I thought he was such a good one too. Well, there's always more in this town." She pulled back and got a wide grin over a thought that seemed to suddenly leap into her mind; if she were a cartoon character, a light bulb would have been suspended over her head. "Hey...Ben's got this cousin who's single. He's really not as attractive as Ben, but he's not bad. Want me to set up a double?"

I gave her a very pointed look. That was her fix to my heartache-a "not-bad" cousin?

"Too soon?" She backed off a bit and shook out her pale hair.

I patted the stack of papers on my desk. "I should get back to work." Tracey gave me another encouraging squeeze and then started to turn to leave, but I stopped her. "Trace?" I pointed to the calla lilies wilting on my desk. "Could you throw these out for me?"

"Sure, hun." She grabbed them and took them away with her and I swallowed about five times in a row to settle my emotions. I would not cry anymore today.

And technically I didn't cry anymore that "day." I did however, skip kickboxing. Tracey said Hot Ben was subbing again, and the last thing I needed to see was them all dewy-eyed at each other. I curled myself into a blubbering fetal position on the couch instead. Since it was after five, I was considering that "evening" and at least giving myself kudos for making it that long. Tomorrow was always another shot.

Tomorrow turned out to be my dwelling day. I woke up, put on my work pantsuit and a moderate blouse top-I didn't feel like being ogled by men...well, maybe by one man, but he wasn't currently an option-and dwelled. While I brushed out my hair and pinned half neatly up into a clip, I dwelled. When I ate my breakfast of cream cheese on a toasted blueberry bagel, I dwelled. As Clarice got after me for missing one tiny slip of paper in a finished report, Tracey gushed over her after-hours kickboxing session with Hot Ben, and the coffee pot in the break room leaked all over my conservative top, I dwelled.

I dwelled about the odds. What were the odds that I would run into a vampire-human mix? What were the odds that he'd ask me out and I'd accept a date with a perfect stranger? What were the odds that he'd expose himself to me and I'd sleep with him anyway? What were the odds that his family would adore me...as long as I bore an heir? What were the odds that my mostly human vampire, that I was falling head over heels for, would also be dying...? At least his body was dying anyway.

All of those odds seemed like one in a million to me. I seriously considered buying a lottery ticket on my way home, but honestly, with my luck, I had better odds of being hit by a stray meteorite.

Tuesdays were my dinner with Mom and Ash. I considered baling, but I missed them, and I didn't feel like repeating last night's fetal position anytime soon. I walked into the cafe with my head down. I walked over to their table with my head down. I walked just up to the corner of their table with my head down and then I lifted my chin up and put on my most award-winning smile. Faking it...that was my plan to get through dinner this week.

Unfortunately, I forgot that Ashley could see right through my mediocre acting skills. Her scarred face immediately frowned upon seeing mine. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I automatically spat out, as I sat down beside her.

Now, there is something that happens to most women when asked that very simple question. Our answer, regardless of our true feelings, is almost always the same-nothing-but our bodies' reactions are vastly different. If nothing is truly wrong, nothing happens. However, if something actually is wrong, the eyes betray the tongue and immediately start to water. My traitorous irises were now streaming like Niagara. At least I wasn't in a fetal position.

Ashley instantly put her arms around me and held me close. "What happened?"

As is usually the case when you've dwelled in sorrow for a while...I embellished. "Teren and I are through. We went to his parents' place over the weekend and had a horrid time and we fought constantly and it's just completely over." The story I just spat out actually took about five minutes through all the embarrassing blubbering.

My sister calmly patted my back as I told my slight fable. My mom got right to the point. "You met his parents over the weekend? Why didn't you mention you were doing that last week?"

I cried some more while Ashley interpreted my tears. "Mom, does that matter now? They've broken up."

"They only dated a month," my mom whispered.

I cried harder and sunk my head to the table. God, this was getting beyond ridiculous. My mother seemed to agree, but grudgingly tried soothing me the same as Ashley. Eventually my tears stopped and we resumed our weekly meal. They didn't ask me any personal questions for the rest of the night...thank God.

That evening, I apparently had no tears left, since I went straight to bed and straight to sleep.

Wednesday was bitch day...that was the nicest way I could frame it. I woke up mad. I put on the shortest skirt I owned and the reddest, clingiest top. I angrily ripped through my hair with a flat brush and tossed it all up into a high ponytail. I drove ten miles over the speed limit and mentally dared a cop to pull me over-Californians did love a good car chase and in the mood I was in, they'd get quite a show.

I yelled-actually yelled-at Clarice when she asked me to recopy a report because it wasn't lined up just right. I might have yelled something about where she could shove said report. Tracey ducked down behind her wall and avoided me...which was good. I couldn't deal with any Hot Ben stories today. I snapped at the men eyeing my purposely clingy shirt to "take a photo, it would last longer". I bit off the head of the poor barista, who didn't quite get my afternoon drink hot enough. And then I yelled at some jerk on the street that was walking in front of me, because he wasn't moving fast enough. See...bitch.

Sometime throughout the day, my sister must have called Tracey because that evening, they both showed up at my house and dragged me, nearly kicking and screaming, to a local bar. After threatening a couple patrons who were whispering about my sister, Tracey and Ashley started pouring vodka after vodka down my throat. I stopped snapping at people around four or five drinks and started loving on several of the burlier men in the room. By seven drinks, I was happily dancing with a few. By nine drinks I was praying to the porcelain God and cursing my friends and family.

Which brought me to Thursday...remorse day. With a throbbing head and a tilting stomach, I dressed in a long, shapeless skirt and a long, shapeless blouse. I pulled my hair up as much as I could and sullenly made my way out into the too bright, early morning sun. Wearing sunglasses to my chair, I apologized over and over to Clarice and offered to take in her dry-cleaning to make up for it. She seemed rather pleased with how I was dressed, and how genuinely sorry I seemed, and took me up on my offer.

Tracey smiled down on me from her side of the wall and I cringed, remembering that at some point last night, Hot Ben had joined us and I may have...grinded on him on the dance floor. I threw her an apology and she laughed, loudly, and said she was just happy I had fun. I may have had fun last night, but in the dehydrated state I was in now, fun was the least of the adjectives I'd use to describe my day. After handling Clarice's dry-cleaning, and silently cursing at myself for doing it, I meandered home and made nice with a quart of Ben and Jerry's.

Friday arrived at long last and with it came...longing. I missed him. I missed his scent. I missed his smile. I missed his stubble. I missed his dress shirts and slacks, and the shoes that he always matched his belt to. I missed his espressos. I missed his dog. I missed the quiet conversations. I missed the walks in the park. I missed his touch. I missed his kiss. I missed...everything.

I don't remember the day. I'm not even sure if I went to work. All I remember was the gnawing ache of loneliness, ripping my insides apart. I couldn't inhale completely, it hurt. I couldn't exhale completely, that hurt too. This was when I realized what that last kiss had done to me. Somehow, that one magnificent kiss in his car had inextricably bound me to him. I had felt a connection in that moment that I'd never felt with another human being, and while his humanity was now in question, what with his human side dying and his vampire side taking over, one thing was not in question-I still felt connected to him, more than I'd ever felt before, more than I could imagine ever feeling again. It scared me...it thrilled me.

Halina had told me once that Teren had "claimed" me. At the time, I'd been a little offended, but now I understood. Now surprisingly, I felt the same. I felt a claim on him and I knew, with everything inside me, that I would see this through with him. Whatever was to come, we would face it united. That's the only way I could see my life unfolding now-wrapped protectively in his arms, whether they were warm and alive or cold as the grave.

I think I broke every traffic law there was getting to his house. I walked up his steps and lightly knocked on his door, wondering what to say to the man I'd avoided for days. Nervousness tickled my stomach as I waited the two seconds for the door to swing open, and then I saw him, and my nerves evaporated. He was stunning, better than I remembered-jet-black hair, shiny in the sunlight, strong, stubbly jaw, maybe a touch longer than he usually kept it, full lips dropped open in surprise at my arrival, and the loveliest shade of pale, but tired, blue eyes, that were regarding me with a mixed expression of hope and sadness.

It turned out that I hadn't needed to worry about what to say. It turned out that my body had fully intended on doing all the talking for me. I greeted him with my lips firmly latching on to his, one of my legs wrapping around his slacks and my hands running up his impressive chest. His answer to my body's question was lightning-quick as he pulled me inside, slammed shut the door, and streaked us both upstairs to his bed.

After that...he took his sweet time.