All is Fair in... War

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Serena wished Darien had spoken of love while he held her instead of his want and need of her. He must have once felt love for her, if not something close to that emotion to have been that fierce in his desire. But then, men were different from women in that aspect, right? Should she be satisfied with it? Should that be enough for her? Was it all right to hope that whatever Darien felt for her would grow into a deeper, more tender emotion?

He held her tight against him until sleep started to claim her, the warmth of his body lulling her into oblivion and thawing the ice that she thought had frozen her heart.

She squeezed her eyes shut upon feeling his lips on her hair, his strong arms around her waist. Some time in the night she woke to find out that she had turned in her sleep to face him and bury her head against his muscular chest.

He was still holding her, deep in slumber. She closed her eyes again and seemed to hear him whisper her name.

Did she really want to escape him?

He was the only one who could make her feel alive. And it felt so right.

When she woke up again, it was almost ten in the morning and Darien was no longer beside her. But there was a certain contentment in her heart that seemed to overflow. She was really happy for the first time in years.

Because I love him.

Had Darien left for the office?

His car was still in the garage when she checked.

Perhaps if she could show him that she was more mature, be more understanding about the demands of his work, be less jealous... Maybe she... they could make it work this time? Would she be able to win his love? Why did he want her back? If it was only desire, no relationship could survive on that alone. What would happen when he no longer wanted her?

She went into the kitchen to prepare some coffee, and noticed that the one in the percolator was still hot. She smiled until she tasted the dark stuff.

That man and his coffee...

She opened the refrigerator to get some half and half-one of the regular freebies from Lita-when somebody knocked on the kitchen door. She closed the refrigerator door, grimacing that there was nothing in there except milk and cream. This last week, she'd been living on coffee and cafeteria meals at the hospital, and didn't bother to cook. When she remembered to eat, at least.

Could it be Darien at the door? Would it be wishful thinking that he went to the nearest grocery store or bakery? Why didn't he just bring his own keys? He could have borrowed them again even if he did return them to her the night before.

She opened the door and was greeted by Molly. She was with her husband. And Alain.

Her eyes must have widened, but Molly seemed oblivious to her surprise.

"I wasn't sure you'd still be here-you know, I thought you'd be at the hospital by now. I-we dropped by, told Marvin we should bring you some breakfast. I prepared some pancakes and sandwiches," she babbled.

Her friend was nervous, Serena could tell. "Uhm, thank you, Molly. You shouldn't have bothered. But I appreciate it." She took the ungainly basket from her friend and put in on the table, inviting the visitors into the kitchen.

"Is that your husband's car outside?" Alain asked.

"Where are your teacups, Serena? I brought a thermos of pure Ceylon green tea, Sencha as Mina proudly told me when she gifted me two boxes from her modeling stint in Sri Lanka. If you ask me, she bought that in England when she visited her grandmother." Molly was opening cupboards as she chattered.

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