The invitation arrived on a Tuesday. She knew it was coming. Margaret had told her over six months ago that he had proposed to Alex over new years. Three days later she watched Wolf Blitzer congratulate him after an interview on CNN. Five weeks ago Margaret told her that he had asked her for Donna’s address in Boston. She wasn’t expecting an invitation. After all that had happened she really didn’t think he was obligated to send her one. But part of her, somewhere deep inside, really wanted to go. She used the excuse of getting to see her friends in DC again. It had been over three years since she had left and she missed all of them. She had always planned on returning. She just never thought it would be for an event such as this.

Her hands shook so violently when she saw the invitation in her stack of mail that she had to drop it to stop the tremors. When she finally picked it up, she ran her fingers lightly over the raised calligraphy print on the outer envelope. She opened it slowly, marveling how wonderful the paper felt to her touch, almost like fabric. She decided it must of cost a fortune. Josh was never short on money and in one of Margaret’s famed gossip phone calls she had told Donna that Alex comes from big New England money.

She read the actual invitation quickly, just noting in her mind the date of the wedding so she could set plane and hotel reservations. Seeing Josh’s name in conjunction with marrying some other woman was just too much for Donna to handle. She realized she’d have to get over this soon enough. The wedding was a little more that two months away. Before sticking the invitation back in the envelope she did notice that Alex’s full name was Alexandra. She had only seen a picture of her once in Newsweek and Donna had noted that she didn’t look like an Alex. Alexandra seemed much more fitting.

She took a deep breath, calming her nerves slightly before throwing the invitation into a junk drawer in her kitchen. She thought about how maybe three years ago the raised calligraphy could have possibly been printed with her name rather that Alex’s. When she first moved to Boston a couple months after Bartlet’s second term began she often thought how easy it would have been to stay. Let fate takes it course and fight off any of the demons that came after them. A couple times she even made it as far as dialing the airline to book a flight back to DC. But then she remembered why she had left. She had left to achieve a goal, to make something of herself without the help of anyone else. It took her nearly two years to convince herself that she had done the right thing. Now all the memories were rushing back with the help of a neatly printed invitation.

Friends, she told herself. She was going to DC to see friends she hadn’t see in years. She managed to convince herself that if she repeated this lie enough times in her head that maybe she’d actually start to believe it.

* * *

A little over two months later she stood waiting at the airport. She craved to find anything that looked familiar to her. It had been three years since she had boarded a plane for Boston with all of her belongings and a student loan form packed in four large suitcases. She had spent so many days here waiting for Josh’s delayed flights to arrive or for his delayed flights to finally board. Nothing looked the same. The stores were different and the small coffee stand she had always referred to as her, ‘savior’ while waiting for early morning flights had now turned into a large Starbucks. She found it odd that for years she tried to get all these images out of her head. Now all she wanted was one familiar sight.

That sight came in the form of a tall red head, weaving her way towards her through the large crowds of travelers.

“Oh my God!!” She yelled, gaining the attention of many people surrounding the luggage carousel. “Your hair!!”

Donna quickly remembered how no one had seen her or her hair since letting it grow out to it’s natural color right after she left DC. She touched the ends of it and pulled at it slightly. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Margaret yelped, pulling her into a tight embrace. One of those hugs that pivots around in large circles until someone finally gives up. “You look like a real lawyer.”

Donna finally let go, glancing down at her suit and letting out a small chuckle. “I still have another year of school. We can’t refer to me as an esquire quite yet.”

“Soon enough. Come on, I’ve got tons of gossip for you.” She grabbed Donna’s carry on and motioned for her to follow behind with her wheeled luggage. “Plus, everyone at the White House can’t wait to see you.”

“Everyone?”

Margaret jokingly rolled her eyes and started to laugh. “Yes, everyone. This is the biggest thing to hit the White House in years. Of course you have to be here.”

Donna weakly smiled back, knowing that Margaret had no idea why this was all such a frightening experience for her. Out of all the people she knew at the White House, Margaret was the only one she had kept in touch with. Once in a while she’d relay greetings and messages through her for the other assistants. Or she’d ask Margaret to tell Sam she said hi, or to tell CJ she had seen her on CSPAN and she looked great. For the most part, though, their conversations were about random White House gossip and how Margaret was sure Leo was just getting grumpier as he got older. Donna would tell her about her classes and how her con law class was such an evil course. She had lead Margaret, along with the rest of them, to think that she left to go back to school. That was partly true but as far as she knew only her and Josh knew the real reason she had left.

If it was familiarity she was seeking, she soon found it in the place she had considered her home for fours years. Nothing had changed. Unfamiliar faces now occupied a few of the desks but the buzz was the same. It had a feeling and an intensity that had taken Donna so long to get over. If energy had a scent this would be it.

People came at her from all directions. There was an abundance of that squeal that only women and small dogs have a knack for. Toby and Sam came bolting from their offices as soon as they heard the commotion. She could have sworn that they were actually racing to see which one would be the first to hug her.

“It feels like you never left,” Sam said, wrapping his arms around her even tighter.

For a moment she also felt like she had never left. This all felt so familiar, so warm. When Sam finally let go of her she turned to face the other side of the bullpen and all the good feelings that were starting to build inside of her dropped like an anchor to the bottom of the ocean.

She turned to face Toby. “Is Josh here?”

“He’s around here somewhere.”

As if he was perfect cue in a play, he exited his office and started to make his way down the hall, totally unaware of her presence. She found it oddly fitting that her first vision of him after three years would be walking down the hall. He looked almost exactly the same. His hair had thinned a bit and there was the appearance of a few lines on his face that show up uninvited once you hit your forties. Of course, she had seen him many times on TV over the last couple years, but TV had a way of covering up those minor imperfections. When she first went to Boston she would find herself up in the middle of the night, flipping through the numerous cable news stations, just to hopefully catch a minor sound byte of him. It eventually got to the point where she’d only see him when she randomly stumbled upon a political round table on CNN. However, ever since the invitation had arrived she found herself checking CNN and CSPAN a little more often than usual.

He was looking down at the floor and she immediately noted the fact that the swagger had tamed down since she last saw him. It was certainly still there but it took trained eyes like her own to recognize it.

His chin finally lifted and his eyes immediately met her gaze. The pace of his walk slowed down to a stroll and Donna was almost positive that for a second or two there was the beginning of a smile on his face. That quickly faded, though, as he made his way over to her.

Her heart was beating so hard and fast that she was sure secret service was going to raid the bullpen to find the ticking bomb. The lock on their gaze never broke as he extended a file to Sam. “Here are the stats for the Medicare speech,” he said, still staring at Donna.

“Thanks,” Sam backed up and the others started to separate from the small huddle that had formed in the middle of the bullpen.

He scanned her face slowly and she suddenly regretted not buying that new concealer Clinique had put out. The one that promised to cover every imperfection and blemish. It was like he was studying every curve, every freckle on her face. Maybe he was looking for signs of wear and tear. Maybe he was just trying to remember what she looked like. She was praying that he didn’t notice her bottom lip trembling.

He finally pointed at her hair and his eyes squinted a bit. “Your hair?”

“It’s my natural color.”

“It’s brown.”

It was really ash blonde but she thought starting an argument with him first thing after three years wouldn’t be the best idea. “Your hair is the same color.” She mentally kicked herself at her lame attempt at humor.

“Yeah. . .how are you?”

He was talking at a slower pace than she had ever heard, and she wondered if this was something he had acquired over the last couple years, or maybe it was just because he was talking to her.

“I’m good.”

“How’s school?”

“Good. I have one year left.”

“Yeah, Margaret told me.”

She nodded and mentally noted to ask Margaret when he had ever asked about her in the past. She always tried to avoid the subject of him while talking to her. “How are you doing?”

His back stiffened and the look in his eyes turned to a cold glare that she had never seen. Not when he would yell at republicans, not even when she told him that she was leaving. “Well, the president’s approval rating is finally back to over sixty percent, my portfolio with Merill Lynch has doubled in the last year, I’m running for senator and so far I don’t even have a democratic opponent. Oh right, and I’m getting married in two days. So, that’s how I’m doing.” The level of his voice didn’t change in the slightest as he spoke to her. His tone was monotone, not even pausing to take a breath or accentuate any words.

She wasn’t exactly expecting the welcome wagon and a big embrace from him but she had hoped he’d be pleasant. She though that she at least deserved that.

“Well,” she said, swallowing hard. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. Listen. . .” he paused and she recognized the look on his face as the one he got when he was trying to form an excuse in his head. “. . .I have to go take care of a thing.”

A thing? She realized that maybe she had been gone long enough that he could now use the “thing” excuse with her. “Okay. . .I’m gonna go see CJ anyway.”

“You’ll be at the party tonight?” He asked, backing away from her.

She forced a smile. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He turned around and she could hear him mumbling something that sounded like, “I bet.”

* * *

CJ told her she looked like a million bucks, which really cheered her up after having her emotions crushed like fragile glass only moments earlier.

CJ asked her about law school and she told her how she wanted to work for the D.A. A big shot defense lawyer was not her ambition in life. They talked about Donna’s apartment and how she was finally getting use to living by herself. She bought a goldfish, which CJ found particularly amusing. The conversation was about little things. No mentions of the big picture and things of the past. Donna loved it but there was still a large amount of guilt involved in not contacting this woman -this woman she had considered her friend- in over three years.

“I’m sorry,” Donna randomly stuttered out in the middle of a discussion about the latest trends in low fat food.

CJ’s brow crinkled a bit. “About what?”

“Not staying in touch.”

CJ rolled her chair back and forth a couple times before finally responding. “It’s okay, Donna. I know why you left.”

“Well,” Donna started the speech she had grown to perfect over the past couple years. “I really though it was time to go back to school. Plus-”

“Donna,” she dropped her hands on to her desk, causing a banging noise that made Donna jump. “I know the real reason you left.”

Donna slumped in her chair and let out a heavy sigh. “How?” She whispered.

“He told me.”

“When?”

“About a month after you left.”

“Do the rest of them know?”

“No, I’m the only one.”

“I thought he wouldn’t want anyone to find out about it.”

CJ shrugged her shoulders and crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s got an ego the size of Texas but he’s still human. I guess he needed to talk to someone. He loved you, you know?”

Donna nodded, remembering the first and last time he had told her that. “I know. That’s why I had to leave. I couldn’t watch his career and the career of the people around us go down the drain because of me.”

“You’re not the first woman in DC to get involved with her boss. I can’t believe me, of all people, is about to say this, but do you really think it would have been that bad?”

“Of course. It was only a matter of time before the press found out. Then you would have been bombed with questions about Josh and I. Approval ratings would have gone down.” Her voice cracked a little and she realized she had never explained this to anyone before. “You all would have suffered, especially him. I couldn’t let that happen, so I left.”

“And now you think everyone just lives happily ever after, huh?”

“Yeah, happily ever after. I’m happy in Boston and he’s getting married in less that forty-eight hours. We’re both so much better now.”

“Then how come he’s absolutely miserable and you’re sitting here crying in my office.”

She quickly wiped away the tears that she didn’t even realize had been streaming down her face. “He’s not miserable. He’s marrying Alex, he’s going to be senator, he has....stock options.”

“And he doesn’t love her.”

She reached for a tissue off CJ’s desk and shook her head. “Of course he does. He wouldn’t marry her if he didn’t love her.”

“He loves the idea of her. She has money and he has money. Together they’ll have lots of money. Even in this day and age it’s harder to get elected to office if you’re single. She looks good in pictures; she helps create good photo ops. Donna, they’re getting married two months before Bartlet leaves office. Does that tell you anything?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a campaign manager’s wet dream. He marries the beautiful happy homemaker while he’s still serving as the deputy chief of staff. The president and first lady sit there, mesmerized as the watch the happy couple say their vows. The American public is taken aback at such a beautiful display and they remember it months from now when they step into the voting booth.”

She thought that maybe she had been away from DC for too long to remember the way politics worked. It wasn’t shocking that any number of politicians would do something like to help their career, but this was Josh. He was different than the rest of them.

“Does she love him?”

“No. She loves who he is going to be. He doesn’t necessarily need a wife to be Senator but he’ll need it later on. Senator is just the beginning for him....for her. If she plays her cards right she could be decorating the residence some day.”

She nodded slowly, not being able to speak. She didn’t know why but for some reason the idea of Josh marrying a woman he loved was a lot easier to swallow than knowing he was marrying someone who was just there for the press and public. At least if he loved her she knew he was happy. Maybe him being happy would minimize the degree of her unhappiness.

“I have to go,” she finally said, rising from the visitor’s chair.

CJ stood up as well. “Donna, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. I just have to get ready for the party. You know, pre wedding shindigs. Gotta look good.”

CJ pressed the tips of her fingertips together and held her hands up to her face. “If you need anything....”

“I’m fine,” she said, backing towards the door. “I’ll see you later.”

Once outside CJ’s office she started to follow voices coming from the other end of the office. Once in sight, she saw Josh sitting at his desk, waving his arms around, talking loudly to some woman whose back was towards her. She assumed it was his assistant. She wasn’t sure of her name. The last one was named Audrey but Margaret had told her that she had quit a couple months ago.

Sam came up from behind and stood next to her. “I see Cruella is here.”

“Cruella?”

“It’s the nickname Toby and I made up for Alex the first time we met her. We’re convinced she kidnaps Dalmatians in her spare time.”

“That’s Alex?” She asked, pointing towards Josh’s office.

“Yeah, and you’re probably getting the best view of her.” He referred to the way her back was turned towards them. “If you see her from the front you have to endure the scowl that’s usually on her face.”

“Do they fight like this often?”

“Only in front of a selected few of us. It’s a show for everyone else. Actually, I’m surprised his door is open.”

Just at that moment Alex backed up towards the door and slammed it shut, never turning around.

“Well,” Sam said, facing her and smiling. “There goes our fun.”

She stared at the back of the wooden door, wanting to go in there and save him. Wanting to turn back the clock to when she was still his assistant. Then she could walk in there, file in hand, and save him by making up some excuse about how Leo needed to see him right away.

“Hey,” Sam clapped his hands together, forcing her back into the present “You wanna go get a late lunch in the mess with me?”

“Can’t. I have to go be a girl and take hours to get ready for the party.”

He laughed and it was just enough to make her smile just the slightest. “Ah, you women. But I’ll definitely see you later?”

“Absolutely. . .”

* * *

Hotel rooms always had a way of calming her. She always thought it had a lot to do with the bareness and sterile smell of the room. She was never able to be completely peaceful in her own home. There was always something, an article of clothing or a knickknack of some sort, reminding her of why she was so down. Hotel rooms had a way of letting you escape all that.

Plus it had a lot to do with the big fluffy bathrobes higher quality hotels offered. She got spoiled while traveling with the president and ever after she left she often found herself asking reservation centers if the hotel supplied bathrobes.

She had just finished running a bath, her body surrounded only by the comfort of the robe, when she heard a loud knock.

Thinking it was room service with more towels, she rewrapped the robe tightly around her body before answering the door.

She opened the door to find him walking in small circles outside in the hallway. “How did you know where I was staying?”

“Why did you come here?” He asked, ignoring her question.

“Excuse me?”

“Why did you show up for the wedding?”

“Answer me first.”

“Margaret told me. Now answer me.”

“You sent me an invitation.” It was the easy way out of giving a real answer and she knew it. He seemed to be willing to accept it for now, brushing against her shoulder, as he entered the room, not bothering to ask for her permission.

“Okay, next question. And maybe this time you can give an honest answer. Why did you leave?”

She shut the door and turned to face him. “I had to leave.”

“God,” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air and spinning around in a full circle. “That’s the same fuckin’ excuse you used three years ago. I heard you saying it over and over in my brain for so long. I’d wake up in the middle of the night, hearing this perfect replica of your voice going, ‘I have to leave, Josh.’”

Her hands clutched tightly on the large cuffs of terry cloth inside the sleeves of her robe. “I had to and you know it.”

“How do I know it? You didn’t stay to find out. We covered it up for over a year. Nobody had a clue. How do you know that the outcome would have been disastrous?”

“Eventually somebody would of found out we were having an affair. Somebody always finds out.”

He shook his head hard and fast. “That’s a complete lie and you know it. For every politician who gets caught having an affair there’s another five who get away with it. And besides, we weren’t having an affair.”

“Does it matter? Whatever it was, it didn’t last. You’re here about to get married and I’m in Boston. You’re going to run for Senator and win. You’re going to be in political office. That’s all you ever wanted.”

“No it’s not.” His voice lowered and the palm of his hands pressed against his forehead. “Is your opinion of me so low that you think that’s all I want?”

“No,” she whispered softly. “But I couldn’t give you what you needed. . .”

“I didn’t need anything.”

“You needed someone to stand idly back and watch as you had all the success. I couldn’t do that. Maybe eight years ago I could have. But I learned through you that I could be something more.”

His eyes rolled back and he shook his head. “So I guess in weird way this is all my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault.”

“Do you like being in Boston?”

“I like that I’m finally going to have a real career.”

“But do you like being there?”

“I hate it,” she finally admitted.

“I hate that you’re there, too.” His hands settled on his hips and he nodded up towards her head. “And I hate your hair.”

“I hate your tie.”

He grabbed the loose scrap of fabric. “What’s wrong with my tie?”

“It’s tan and your suit is tan. It all just fades into your skin.”

A smile came over his face and every nerve in her body reacted at once. Three years and that smile was the thing she missed most. It was like an addictive drug that she had given up cold turkey. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Thanks for the fashion advice.”

She turned around quickly, looking at the floor. She had to turn around. She had to not look at him. His smile had the power to send her into some sort of relapse that she knew she couldn’t fall into. She also wouldn’t let him see the tears that were starting to fight there way down her face. “You should really wear blue, Josh. Either a blue shirt or a blue tie will really bring out your skin color.” She took a deep breath and attempted to calm her voice, trying to concentrate on the threads of the carpet. “Also, stick to black and navy suits. They show up better on TV. You don’t want to do any campaign ads or debates in the wrong suit. Tan is really not your best. .”

She was planning on finishing her sentence, not that she had any idea what she was talking about. She was rendered completely silent as she felt his hand on the small of her back. Even over the thick terry cloth of her robe, she could almost feel the warmth of his hand.

“Don’t,” she protested softly.

“Donna,”

“Please don’t,” her voice was pleading but her body was going against her words, leaning back into him while his arm wrapped around her waist and settled on the knot of her robe belt.

“I have to. . .”

“You’re getting married.”

His arm started to pull her in closer as his other hand started stroking her hair. “I’m entering a business deal with a pretty ceremony added on to please the masses.”

She grabbed for the arm touching her hair and pulled it over her shoulder, studying it briefly before kissing the palm of his hand. “Why are you doing it, Josh?”

“Because I finally realized that you weren’t going to come back.”

“I’m here now.”

“Only temporarily.” His hand moved to untie her robe and she did nothing to discourage his actions, rather encouraging him by starting to kiss her way up the palm of his hand, stopping to run her tongue along the skin below the watch on his wrist. “Turn around,” he moaned into her hair. “I want to see you.”

She turned around slowly; slipping her robe off her shoulders and letting it fall to her feet. She was standing before him, completely naked, and the expression in his eyes as they scanned her body was all she needed to feel herself become completely wet.

“I missed you,” he whispered, staring down at her breasts.

“You missed me or you missed my breasts?”

“Both,” he said, not a hint a humor in his voice. His arms reached around her waist, pulling her into him and causing them both to groan as his erection came in contact with her. “Did you me miss?” He asked, moving his lips closer to hers, accentuating his point by grinding his hips into her.

She nodded before placing her lips softly against his. It had been so long since she had felt his lips. It reminded her of the first time they had ever kissed. They had been out to dinner, working on some bill for congress. He dropped her off in front of her house and without thinking she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. She regretted it and quickly pulled away, but he immediately drew her back in, embracing her with a gentle quality she had never felt before.

As there kiss became deeper, tongues exploring areas they hadn’t visited in years, she started to remove his clothes at a hurried pace. As erotic as being naked before him felt to her, she craved feeling his skin pressed against her own. When she reached his shirt she practically ripped the buttons off, desperate to speed up the process.

He tried to speak but she pushed her tongue deeper into his mouth, afraid at any moment he could come to his senses and realize how wrong this was. When she pushed his shirt all the way off his arms, flinging it across the room, she immediately grabbed for the fly of his pants, wanting to be reminded of the way his erection felt against the palm of her hands.

She wrapped her hand around him tightly and finally pulled her mouth away from him to watch as she started to pump him quickly. His head rolled back and the groan that escaped his mouth echoed off the scarcely decorated walls of her hotel room.

“Okay,” he finally said, lowering his head and placing his chin on top of her head. He grabbed on to her wrist, stilling her hand. “This is going to be over really soon if you keep touching me like that.” She released her grip immediately and looked up to him for further instructions. He nipped at her lower lip a little before nodding towards the bed. “Lay down.”

She backed up, falling hard against the bed, and he fell to his knees before her on the floor. He pulled her up a little bit so her knees were bending directly over the edge of the bed. His lips touched hers briefly before pushing her onto her back, sitting up on his knees so he was now hovering over her.

He started on her neck, kissing and biting at her skin. Part of her prayed that he was leaving marks on her so she could use them as proof to herself that this was really happening. While his mouth was making it’s way down her chest, his hand was beginning to rub her lower stomach, traveling at a painfully slow pace. She lifted her hips a little to urge him on and he nipped at her nipple in response. She let out a loud groan and had to bite onto her hand to stifle the noise. She had no idea who was next door and the last thing she needed was for them to know what they were doing.

His tongue started to swirl around her nipple and she ran a hand through his hair, remembering how he always had to love to play with her breasts during foreplay. It was only minutes but she remembered how it would feel like hours, his mouth alternating between biting and sucking.

His mouth moved on to her other breast, awarding it the same attention, sending her to the brink of exploding. His hand crept near her center, and when he finally brushed a finger against her sex she pulled tightly against his hair. His finger teased her around her opening and she circled her hips around in hopes of gaining some contact.

His head lifted from her nipple, sitting back on his heels and looking down at where his finger, moist with her own dripping arousal, was about to invade her. “I want to watch this,” he said

His finger started at a slow pace with her hips matching his rhythm. His speed became almost unbearably fast as he added another finger, his thumb touching her clit so lightly that if she wasn’t watching him with her own eyes she was sure she’d think there was no way he was possibly doing that.

His eyes shifted focus from watching his own work to her eyes, which were glazed over with a mixture of building tears and desire. She kept her eyes wide open; afraid of missing a millisecond of what he was doing to her. She was also scared to death that the moment her eyes reopened she’d find herself in her own bed, thinking about him while touching herself, with him nowhere to be found, just a fragment of her imagination.

But when she felt herself start to tense up around him, the feeling building in her core that had been missing for so long, she remembered that there was no man before or after him that had ever made her feel this way.

She reached out to him, wanting to hold on to some part of him as she came. He responded by leaning forward and brushing his cheek against her hand before kissing her palm. She watched as he unbuttoned his pants, his other hand and his mouth doing things that made her want to explode, creating feelings that merely hours ago she was sure she would never experience again.

His fingers pulled out of her abruptly and she gasped and then moaned at his absence. “It’s okay,” he mumbled into the skin of her stomach as kissed his way up her body, starting to climb on top of her. She started pushing his pants and boxer shorts down while moving herself back on the bed to make more room for him.

He was concentrating on her nipples again, starting to graze his teeth over the hardened peaks, and it was just about all she could take. It had been too long since she had felt him inside of her and she was done with foreplay. She spread her legs wide beneath his weight and ran her fingers over the tip of his cock. “Now. . .”

He kicked his pants and boxers off behind him. He wrapped his hand around his cock, guiding it to her center, and she placed her hand over his. His fingers were still wet from being inside of her, and together they moistened his head with her warmth.

“You’re still on the pill?” He asked, burying his head into her neck, leaning all of his weight on top of her.

“You picked a bad time to ask.” She grabbed onto his hips, lifting her own, and felt herself starting to stretch over the head of his cock.

“Then I’m going to take that as a yes.”

Her hands wrapped around to the top of his ass and she pulled him into her even deeper, until he was fully inside of her. “God. . .yes. . .” she moaned. “I. . .”

She bit her lip hard to stop herself from saying that she loved him. She couldn’t do that to herself or to him. She left him once and now she was going to loose him as soon as this was over.

“You what?” He moved his head from her neck and looked down at her.

She shook her head before turning it against the pillows.

“Me too,” he whispered into her ear, and he started moving in and out of her faster, his hand starting to dance around her inner thigh.

She was already so sensitive from when he was touching her earlier that all it took was a few strokes of her clit to make her quake around him. She moaned softly, burying her head into the pillow, still aware of how someone could hear them. Her fingernails were digging deep into the small of his back and she was sure she was leaving marks in him. She didn’t care even though she knew he could have a lot of explaining to do about that.

His pace slowed a bit as she was coming down from her orgasm and she felt his hand brushing the hair off her face. She finally looked up to him and saw the grimace on his face as he continued to pump into her. She lifted her head and trailed a series of kisses along his jawbone until she was lightly biting on his ear lobe. “Turn over,” she whispered into his ear, already starting to push him off.

He pulled out of her and rolled over on to his back, running his hands on the back of her thighs as she straddled him. She quickly lowered herself on him, needing to feel him inside of her again. If she missed the feeling of him this much after only a few seconds apart, she didn’t even want to face the torture that would ensue after he was gone.

His hands rested on her thighs while his eyes focused on her breasts, rising and falling as she bounced on top of him. He moaned as she cupped her breasts and started rolling her nipples in between the pads of her fingertips.

Her mind flashed back to this one time she was riding him and he told her as he came that he was willing to spend the rest of his life with her on top of him.

There were no such promises this time. Instead, he pushed hard on her thighs, thrusting his hips off the bed, his liquid heat filling her hard and fast. He buried his face in the pillows just as she had done earlier. His cries were muffled but she faintly heard the sound of her name as he emptied inside of her.

She sat on top of him, completely still, and neither of them moved, spoke, or even blinked. She thought for a few seconds that if maybe if they just stayed like this, time would stop and neither of them would ever have to leave. They could just spend the rest of their lives in the Grand Hyatt Hotel: Room 1409.

Reality set in a few moments when she felt him becoming limp inside of her and the impact of what they had done hit her hard and fast. She didn’t feel any guilt, though. Maybe it was because she had never met this woman he was marrying. There was no personality to put to the face and the name. Maybe it was because she knew they didn’t love each other. Hell, maybe Alex was off right now getting it one last time from some past flame.

But he wasn’t just some past flame to her. She didn’t know why she didn’t feel guilt but she did know she was about to face a moment she thought she’d never have to endure again.

She lifted herself off of him and rolled over almost to the edge of the bed and turned herself away from him. She could still hear him breathing hard behind her. He shifted a bit and then she felt his fingers running along her spine. Her instinct was to use her shoulder to force him away, but instead she felt herself leaning back into his touch.

“I have to. . .”

“I know,” she said, shutting her eyes tight.

“It’s just that the party is starting in an hour.”

“You can use the shower here. The tub is full of water but it’s probably cold by now.”

“I should go home. I need to change.”

She wanted to turn around but she knew looking at him would be too difficult. So instead she shut her eyes even tighter, trying instead to just remember him by images. “I’m not going to go, is that okay?”

“That’s fine.”

“Tell Margaret that you saw me and I don’t feel very well.”

“Are you going to come on Sunday?”

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “If I don’t, I’ll mail you your gift.”

“You don’t have to give me a gift.”

“It’s one of those ugly place settings from the registry. I’m not keeping it. Really, Josh. . .pink flowers on a plate?”

“Okay,” he said solemnly. She wanted to make him laugh. She wanted to imagine that he was smiling behind her. She knew that after he left she could at least be comforted for a little while by the mental image of him smiling.

“Josh, you have to go.”

“I know,” he stroked her back a few more times and she felt his lips against her neck, in between her shoulder blades, and finally right above her hipbone. The bed shifted and she heard him rummaging around the room for his belongings. Although they were still shut, her eyes loosened a bit, and she felt herself drifting to sleep and she listened to him put on various items of clothing.

There was silence in the room and she figured that he was either done dressing or that she really had fallen to sleep and he was already gone. Then she felt the warmth of his breath over her face before he placed one last kiss on her cheek.

“Remember,” she said, still keeping her eyes shut. “Wear lots of blue.”

“I will,” he replied back, a hint of amusement in his voice.

As she heard the door shut behind him she at least knew that he was smiling. That, for now, was enough to make her happy as she fell asleep.