Just the walk to the carriage made both William and Elizabeth dripping wet. The rain had not slowed down more. In fact, it had started to rain harder again. Elizabeth hoped the driver would not get them in an accident, but he told her it would not happen, for there are not many people on the road now. That did not comfort her, for they did not need a second carriage to cause an accident...

She had accepted William's offer to drive her home, for what other option did she have? Walking home? Sleeping at the theatre? She knew her family might be worried about her as well. They knew where she was, but that did not mean they would not worry. Many things could go wrong in a storm.

Twas cold in the carriage. Probably because she was very wet and there was no sun to heat her up, but also because she had gotten used to the fire place at the theatre. She was wearing a coat, but it did not help much, for it was drenched.

The carriage suddenly stopped and the driver got off to open the door. William motioned for her to step out, but she crossed her arm over her chest and looked at him.

"This is not my house."

"No, tis mine," he said with a smile.

"I will not get out of the carriage until it stops in front of my house," she told him severely.

"That is a pity," he said while keeping the smile on his face. "It shall get cold in the carriage. Try to keep warm." He stood up and walked out of the carriage. With his hand on the door to shut it, he said: "you can always enter until the rain has stopped and you can call for your own carriage."

She looked at him, not wanting to give in, but also not wanting to stay in the carriage. He ought to drive her home, like he promised. But she knew he meant what he said, and if she did not want to stay in the carriage, she would have to follow him inside.

With a sigh and an angry look, she took his hand and stepped out of the carriage. Together they ran to the house and the butler opened the door. "I have started the fire place in the study, my lord."

"Then that is where we shall be," William told him. "Also bring us some dry blankets."

"Yes, my lord," the butler said with a bow before walking away to do as he was told. William guided Elizabeth up the stairs and through a door into the study. The room had light coloured wooden furniture and many big windows. Elizabeth assumed it let in a lot of light, but because of the hard rain and the night that had fallen, it was quite dark. The only light came from the big fire place on the other side of the room.

William walked toward it and Elizabeth followed. She had been inside this house before, for he had bought it more than seven years ago. But she had never been inside his study. She must admit she had always liked the house, but the knowledge of this amazing study made her love it even more. It was full of cupboards filled with books, many paintings and two red coaches.

They stood in front of the fireplace, watching the flames eat the wood while feeling the heath it radiated. They stayed quiet, even when the butler returned with a pile of dry blankets. William took one and laid it over Elizabeth's shoulders before he took one for himself.

It was only now, when all was quiet and calm, that Elizabeth realized she was quite tired. Not wanting to move, she lowered herself on the floor and made certain she was comfortable before she looked up at William. He was smiling down on her, then lowered himself on the floor as well.

After a short silence in which they both watched the flames dance in the fireplace, William asked: "So what has changed while I was gone?"

Elizabeth swallowed. "I was happy. And the Jones House as a new owner."

"Really?"

"Yes," Elizabeth responded, purposefully not about what he was probably surprised about, "the daughter of the previous owner."

"You were not happy when you were with me?"

She kept her gaze on the flames while she left the room quiet for a while. "I was happy when I was with you. Then I was unhappy when I realized you would not come back, and finally I had forgotten about you and was living my life with a smile again."

She heard him sigh softly. "And then I came back."

She merely nodded, not feeling the need to make him feel more horrible than he already felt.

"And then you slapped me," he said with a laughing tone. She looked at him and saw he looked happy, his eyes on her.

"You deserved it," she told him.

He shrugged. "I could only try."

"You should not have," she said, mostly trying to convince herself it was wrong.

"Why not?" he asked. Elizabeth assumed he already knew the answer to it, but wanted to tease her by making her say it.

She doubted between saying: "because it made me slap you," or what she truly wanted to say. Both were no lie, so she figured either one would please him. "Because now we want more."

She saw him stiffen and realized he did not expect her to say that. He truly did not know who she was anymore. All he knew of her, was who she used to be.

His eyes remained on her as his face eased. "We?"

"What?" she asked, confused about his word.

"You said we want more."

Her heart started racing, fearing he would act on impulse again and kiss her once more. She feared it, for she knew she wanted it, but should not. Trying to be strong and to not show him she was nervous, she asked: "do you not?"

"I do. But I am surprised you do too."

She shrugged. "I have loved you once, but I cannot deny I still do. Yet that does not mean I appreciated your kiss."

"Yet you want more," he reminded her.

"But I should not."

"But you want to."

She gave him a severe look. "If you kiss me again, I will slap you again, and-"

"I will take it. With pride."

"And then," she continued, ignoring his words, "I will leave and never speak to you again."

That must stop him from kissing her again, she thought. It had to, for she would not be able to push him away again.

"Very well," he said with a sigh. "I shall only kiss you if you allow me to."

"I will not do that."

"We shall see," he said with a shake of his head and a mischievous smile.

"Why would you want to kiss me?"

"Why would I not?"

"Because you cannot trust me."

Repeating the words he had spoken seemed to be a reminder of what he had forgotten. He stayed quiet, probably overthinking those words. Elizabeth hoped that his conclusion would stay the same, for she also could not trust him. She could not trust that once she had set her heart and mind on him, he would not leave and break her heart again.

He moved his head to look at the fireplace, and she feared her words had dampened the mood. Would it always go like this whenever they talked? Would they always have to think twice over every word they said? Would they always fear that their words were the ones that hurt most?

"I would not have taken the assignment," he suddenly said, his eyes still on the fire. Her eyes were on him, and she saw how difficult he found it to say those words.

"What assignment?" she asked carefully.

"The assignment you tried to hide from me." His head finally turned around and their eyes met. Her belly felt the butterflies come up, while her heart broke at the memory he just brought up. He had just bluntly accused her of the biggest mistake of her life.

He had received a letter from his superior, offering him a new assignment. She knew William would love it, for it meant certainty, good money, traveling and theatres. But she also knew it meant he would have to leave her. She could not imagine what it would be like to be without him, so she hid the letter. But only a few days later, his superior asked him in person for his answer, and William had to tell him he did not know what he was speaking of.

Twas not the first lie Elizabeth would tell, but it was the first big one. Little white lies she could easily cover up were funny to him, but that one had been too much. They fought that night.

William accused her of always lying and of never knowing whether he could trust her or not. She tried to apologize, but he would not listen. A few days later, she had to send him a letter, asking for support, for her father was dying.

He never came.

That was the moment Elizabeth realized they would never take it further than kisses and laughs. That was the moment she realized her happiness was over. That was when he made his first mistake.

His second mistake came when he left and never returned. Andrew had told him about their father, yet he did not return. For seven years, she had not seen him, nor had she received a letter of him or anything else except for the few times Andrew would say he was alright. For seven years, she was reminded of the fact that the last time she saw him, she had made a mistake and he had not listened.

"Yet you took the assignment," she accused him, the pain of the memory still there, but the anger was gone.

"I had nothing here anymore," he told her.

"You had me."

"No, I did not."

"You could have had me."

A deafening silence filled the room as his eyes were on her accusing gaze. He always blamed her for ending their relationship, but he did not realize that he was responsible too. He could have come back and listen to her. He could have told her not to lie about the little things.

He slowly shook his head. "I could not stay here anymore."

Elizabeth turned her head to watch the fire, hoping the heat would dry a tear that was threatening to fall out of her eye. "I was glad you left," she told him silently.

"Do not lie to me," he said accusingly.

"I am not." She turned to look at him, showing she meant what she was saying. "I truly was glad you were gone. For two full days, I was happy. And then everything came crashing down. The realization that you were gone and would never come back, was just as painful as my father's death. The only difference was that my father did not have a choice, while you did. And you made it."

"I made the choice that I believed was right."

"Yes, you tell yourself that. But is it still what you believe?"

"I still believe that at that time, it was the right choice," he said, nodding his head.

"It was the right choice to leave me alone with my pain over you and my father? It was the right choice to stay away for seven years?"

"No, it was the right choice to give you space to breath and realize your mistake."

"For seven years?" she asked angrily while standing up. "You think I needed seven years to realize my mistake?"

"No," he said with a sad tone in his voice. He remained sitting on the ground and looked up at her. "I needed seven years to realize I would never be able to forget you."

Elizabeth felt that, for a second, her heart stopped beating, just like everything seemed to stop moving. For a moment she was not breathing, and for a second she was not thinking.

But then all her thoughts came crashing down on her. For seven years, he had been thinking of her, just like she had been thinking of him. And while she had found a new purpose in her life and had started to forget the memories, he had not. She wondered if she was the reason why he came back, but she shook off that thought immediately. If she was the reason, then he would have come to her straight away. He would have already told her he forgave her and asked for her hand like he had promised to do years ago. He would not have told her he could not trust her anymore and he would not be using stupid excuses to invite her inside his house.

She also feared that if he could not forget her while she was not with him, he would never be able to leave her when she was near. And both of them would be tied to a situation in which they wanted each other, but could not trust each other, where they wanted to be together, but should not. They wanted to love each other, but knew that it could easily break again.

William suddenly smiled at her like he had forgotten what he had just told her, and asked: "would you like a bath? It would warm you up and calm you down."