Why, she wondered miserably, would she bother getting fancied up to go to some stupid Christmas party Jude was throwing when she didn't have a date? Hell, if she had half a mind she'd have come in a pair of pajamas, nil make-up. However, she was lacking even half a mind and dolled herself up, arriving at Jude's alone. She wondered how that must look: an attractive twenty-one-year-old arriving to a party on her lonesome, dressed like she were expecting to be taken home by some obnoxious guy who wasn't even all that nice looking.

How sad.

She knocked once on the door, marked 2-A, before turning the knob and entering despite an answer on the other end. She raised an eyebrow at the amount of people there. In fact, she thought slightly amused; she never knew Jude had so many friends. Or, acquaintances at the least. She smiled faintly, deciding that, no, this may not be that bad after all.

Eyes scanned for any signs of Jude or Lera. Jude was no where to be seen, but she had come across her sister. "Ler!" she called, waving to draw her attention. It worked, and Lera was making her way through a clump of people in no time.

"You look like you should be drinking a martini or something, and smoking a cigarette." Lera's tone as amused as she looked at her sister standing before her, dressed in strappy stilettos and a fairly short black dress with intricate designs wrapping around her torso in thread that shone when the light caught it just right; the thin straps over her shoulders going to her back, where they met with the fabric of the low-cut back dress, falling down to the small of her back.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dali returned, scoffing faintly in defense. "But I would like a martini. Where's the -" she looked around the room for the drinks. "Where's the drinks?" Once more her eyes focused on her sister, falling onto the drink she held in her hand.

"In there, but wait." She reached forward a hand, preventing Dali from moving forward in the pointed direction.

"Why? I need my alcohol. How the hell else am I going to -" She stopped abruptly, mid-sentence, her eyes now watching a body - a man - who she could see over Lera's shoulders. "What the hell is he doing here?" she hissed, stepping aside in an attempt to hide herself, pulling Lera along with her.

"That's what I was trying to tell you, you fool. Jude, the idiot, invited him. He said 'but he's my friend' and I told him to go shove off. But, anyway. That's not all."

"What? There's gossip? Worse, you're telling me the gossip? Ha. How wonderful. My darling sister is about to relay to me the gossip she's heard about my bloody ex whom, surprise, had actually proposed to me! And-"

"Dali! Shut. Up. You'd probably rather hear it from me so you can be -"

"WHAT. IS THAT?"

"-warned." She whimpered, as though a sixth sense was tingling that Dali was about to, undoubtedly, go off on a rant.

"Why. Why, dear God, is that - that thing - hanging off his arm? SNOGGING HIM. Jesus Christ, get a bloody room. She looks like a hooker. She sells herself to men, Ler, I can just tell. She radiates whore. Prostitution. Whealdon's dating a whore, how quaint." She snorted, storming off in direction of the drinks, running into Jude in the process. "Jude Aldridge, I am never effing speaking to you again." She shoved him out of the way, angrily stomping to the drinks table, making quite the ruckus in her noisy stilettos.

--

"Code Red, Caleb. Code Red." Jude sniggered, clapping him on the back in the way that men tended to do. "You've been spotted out, mate. Lera said she flipped, so you may want to watch yourself for any crazed short women in stilettos with a knife. Or a martini glass. I'm sure they'd be great to knock one unconscious with."

"Sod off. This is all your fault, you know? You never had to invite me." He turned to look where Sadie was getting another drink.

"You never had to come. And I had to invite Dal, she's Lera's sister for God's sake."

"Not coming would have been rude, and I had to. Sadie found the invitation - which, why the hell would you send out bloody invitations? Word of mouth, my friend. Word of mouth - and insisted we go. She 'wanted to meet my friends'. Christ." He brought up a hand, rubbing at his temples. "And I couldn't exactly tell her that, no, we couldn't go because my ex whom I proposed to just a few months ago was going to be there."

"Your problem, not mine. I don't see how you could have picked up some girl after just three months, give or take, of being out of a relationship with someone who you bloody proposed to."

"Christ, you make it sound like I picked her up off the streets."

"You probably did." He snorted faintly, turning his head upon seeing Sadie arrive back, fresh drink in hand, her arm going around Caleb's waist and head leaning against his shoulder. She smiled, tossing her mousy brown hair over her shoulder.

"Probably did what?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in question while taking a sip of her Chardonnay.

"Nothing," Caleb said, dismissing it while shooting Jude a glare, which he quickly understood to stand for 'go away'.

--

"Look at him," she muttered to herself, leaning against a wall and idly playing with a strand of hair that fell from her bun. "Hell. Look at her. Standing there, practically groping him. Get a god damn room." Dali snorted, taking a sip of her martini, finishing it off.

She couldn't help but poke fun at them both, focusing on whatever-her-name-was. How in hell, she asked herself, could he bloody propose not even a whole three months ago and already be with some chick. She knew the dates; she knew when it was he proposed, and when it was they said goodbye. She knew it hurt like hell every time she saw him passing through the streets, in a store, or anywhere else. She knew it hurt even more seeing him with a fairly pretty girl who looked nice-as-pie, her arm around him, and eyes sparkling with adoration.

She couldn't even look at another man the same way she looked at him since they broke everything off. And here he was, looking content with this girl. She beat herself up every day, it seemed, for having screwed things up between them. Aiden. That name came up in her reason as to why she declined his proposal to marriage. "Because," she had said. "Because of Aiden. Because of what we had. Because I don't think I could move on so soon." What a fool she was. She knew she never loved anyone, not even Aiden, the way she loved, and still did love, Caleb.

And by now it was too late.

--

"Caleb." There was no question to it, no uncertainty. Just a mere saying of his name as she approached him. The name sounded foreign on her tongue. Three months of refusing to use one's first name did that to a person.

He turned his head at the familiar voice, clearly startled and shocked that she would come up to him. What surprised him most, he found himself thinking, was the way she seemed to calm. The way she didn't sound derisive, angered, or hurt. He knew she was the second one, and maybe the third one. But what she didn't realize was that he was angered, and he was hurt.

All he did was propose, and all she had to say was no. Of course, a decline like such could not go without explanation. So he pried. He looked at her, heart filled with a hurt that was reflected in his eyes, until she told him the history between herself and Aiden. Aiden, who died not even a full year before, who was married to Lera, who she had known her whole life. Aiden, who she said she was in love with. Who she said she wasn't sure if it was too soon, if she could be with him and truly be sure things were right with them.

Those words hurt, stabbing him a hundred times over in the heart. "I loved him, and I love you, but I'm not sure if your love was or is able to replace those feelings." Many times he wondered if she meant them, if she truly meant them. But, the way she accepted the break up, the way she avoided his looks and went about life hunky-dory, told him she was telling the truth. And maybe he should have thanked her for that.

But that's what fueled him to move on. That's what led him to asking out Sadie MacGovern when he ran into her at the supermarket. Dali's assuredness that she didn't love him enough kept him from breaking down each day, from dwelling on what he told himself was just another relationship.

But he knew in his heart the past three months had been lies. And now it was too late.

--

"Caleb." She said the name again, now standing before him, the brown-haired girl in his arm. Her eyes fell onto the young woman as she forced a smile to her lips. "Oh, hi. I - uh - don't think we've met." A hand was extended, the fake smile still present. "I'm Dali."

He looked at Dali, and looked at Sadie as she took her hand and offered a friendly smile. "Hullo! I'm Sadie. Sadie MacGovern."

"Pleasure." She released her hand, crossing her arms over her chest and looking back at Caleb, who was watching skeptically. She knew he was, without a doubt, waiting for her to make a fool of herself, an assish fool at that. "I, um, know Caleb," she said as though feeling the need to explain herself as to why she were here.

"Oh." Sadie looked around absently, extracting herself from Caleb and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Okay. I'll let you two catch up, then." She smiled, turning towards a group of people whom were chatting; she seemed to fit in just fine, joining the conversation and letting out a laugh. Dali watched her, intrigued.  

"We need to talk." She looked back at him, tossing a strand of honeyish hair from her face.

"What is there to talk about, Dal?"

"I don't think that's the question here, Whealdon. The question is what isn't there to talk about?" A scoff was issued, and she grabbed him by the arm, making her way to the nearest door, behind which would inevitably be a room. Finding one, she reached for the door knob, turning it and entering the room. She examined the room over before coming to the conclusion that she had entered Jude's room. How pleasant.

She shut the door behind them, releasing Caleb and standing before him.

"Okay, now that we're alone. Explain."

"Jesus Christ, Dali! What the hell do I have to explain?"

Another scoff. "Well, let me see. The fact that it's been, um, two and three quarters of a months since you've proposed to me, and you've already got a new girlfriend? Come on, Caleb. You don't tell a girl you love her more than anything and have a new girl less than three months later."

"I'm not the one who turned down my proposal," he retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "And I'm not the one who gave the reason that it was because she didn't love me enough. After a year of dating, mind you."

"That's completely different! I'm still single, and have been seen then."

"How is it different, Dali? It's like our whole relationship was a lie."

"The fact that you're already back on the dating scene constitutes for that more than the fact I told you I didn't love you enough." She wished she had a drink in her hand; she was sure that, upon seeing many movies, throwing a drink in one's face would make one feel much better.

"You've got to be kidding me. This is bull shit." He scoffed, turning to the door but being stopped by a hand on his shoulder. "What the bloody hell are you doing, Dal? We've talked -"

"I was scared." She let her hand fall to her side, fingers brushing against the soft, light fabric of her dress.

"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows in question.

"Scared. I never ..." She took in a sharp breath, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I was scared. Scared of - of, sorry for the cliché, being loved as much as . . . as you loved me. Especially for someone whose parents were so god damn dysfunctional: my mum left my dad, and my dad left us - Lera and I. They eloped when they were young. They thought they loved each other, but it was only an infatuation. Like ... like they weren't capable of love. It scared me." She paused, and even as she stared at the rug on the floor, gaze unmoving as though it were the eighth world wonder, she could feel his eyes on her, pressing her forward. "And I was scared of the fact that I love you so god damn much that it was like I couldn't survive if you - if you were to leave me."

"What in hell gave you that idea?" he asked, incredulity filling his words to the top. "That I'd leave you, I mean."

"I don't know!" Dali looked up at him, tears threatening to spill. She took in another deep breath, shaking her head. "I don't know. I was just so . . . so scared. I've never been in love like I am. And then out-of-the-blue I'm being told the same thing I'm feeling, that you feel the same way. And you want to spend your life with me. And I panicked. I bloody panicked."

"Aiden. Why him?"

"I - We . . ." She sighed, carefully wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, keeping close measure as to not ruin her make-up. "We had a thing. I mean, an infatuation. That's all it was. It was only once, when he and ... when he and Lera were engaged. And one thing led to another, and voilá. I thought I loved him, but then you came. And you showed me wrong." She shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek. "God dammit, Caleb. I love you. No past tense. No doubts in my mind. Nothing."

He looked at her, marvelous celery-green eyes looking back into her own hazel ones. And with a sharp intake of breath on her part, he had stepped forward and took her in his arms. "I love you, too. More than anything, Dal. Anything." He placed a kiss on top her head, and she drew in another breath, reveling in the soft scent of his cologne: a light smoky sort of scent that reminded her of classy lounges, even though she'd never been to one.

She looked up, frowning lightly. "What about Sadie?"

"I don't love her."

"I didn't mean that," she said, resting her head on his chest, fingers toying with his tie. "I mean what are you going to do about her?"

He kissed the top of her head again. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it. I'm just glad to have you back, Adalia."

"She loves you, though."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "How do you know? And, we've only been together a month. Ending today."

"She looks at you the way people tell me I look at you. Adoration, admiration... Love." Her voice was quiet, eyes focused on the tie, still, as she fiddled with it in her fingers.

"I - Dal. What can I do?"

She looked back up at him, dropping the tie, shaking her head. "Shh. Just ... Just don't worry about it now." She stood on tip-toe, pressing her lips to his in a deep kiss, the sort she only thought happened in movies; in fact, she wouldn't have been surprised if, out of no-where, a film crew, lights, camera equipment, and make-out scene music appeared. Dali nuzzled her head under his chin, mumbling the words "I love you," and led him over the foot or so to where the bed stood. She pushed off the jacket of his suit, undoing his tie, all-the-while pursuing the kissing: sweet caresses along his jaw and chin. It was he who stopped her, giving a crooked smile.

"Dal, love. We're in Jude's room."

"Yes. I'm sure he's had girls in -"

"I'm not Jude."

"So? It'd be quite a story. Awfully kinky," she giggled lightly, kissing him again. "Getting laid in Jude's room, and not even by Jude."

"Dali, no."

"But-"

"No." She frowned, rising to her feet reluctantly. "I'd think after three months-"

"Not here." He, too, rose, and re-tied his tie and pulled on his suit jacket. Caleb smiled, kissing her once on the lips before exiting the room. Careful measure told her not to exit at the same time: people might get the wrong idea. She smiled to herself, tidying up her make-up before leaving the room and switching off the light.

--

Her cell-phone rang forty minutes later. She recognized the number and let out a small laugh before answering with a "Hello?"

"I'll be at your place around ten." His voice was hushed, whispered.

"Where in hell are you?" She laughed, looking around the room.

"In the bathroom. I figured it'd be the easiest place to make the call. And now I'm leaving. Just in case. So I'll see you later."

"Ta, love." Dali smiled.

"'Bye."

When she was tapped on the shoulder a small squeal was let out. She turned around, only to find Lera looking at her skeptically with a raised eyebrow.

"'Ta, love'? Who is 'love'?"

"Nobody you know," she lied, shrugging as she replaced her phone in her handbag.

"A guy? Mystery man?"

"Sure, if you say so."

"Did you meet him here? God dammit, Dal! Did he leave already? Oh, this is wonderful. Over Caleb already?"

Dali shrugged in reply, taking a sip of the fresh martini in her hand. "You could say that."

"I'm happy for you, Dal. You deserve it." She smiled, and Dali mirrored it.

"I do, don't I?"

"So?"

"So what?" It was her turn to raise an eyebrow in question.

"Are you meeting him somewhere? Or visa-a-versa?"

"I'll be someplace, and he'll be there, too."

"Where?"

"It's not nice to pry, Lera."

"But - But I'm your sister!"

"Tough," she said with a shrug, smiling and giving a wave.

--

She checked the clock, its hands reading nine-thirty. Finishing off her fourth martini, she reached for her coat. Caleb had already left, Sadie in tow. She wondered briefly what in hell he planned to do with her. What he'd tell her. She shrugged this off, approaching Lera and Jude who were talking, separated from the rest of the people who still remained.

"- never doing this again. Never."

"I'll shoot you if you do, Jude. You're not throwing any more-"

"Ah! If it isn't the wonderful host." She smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "I was particularly fond of this party. Not bad, if you ask me."

"That's because you found a man!" Lera interjected, sipping her wine. Dali watched her; Lera was not one to take any sort of alcohol very well, and tended to stick to a half-glass of wine and a couple glasses of seltzer through the night.

Dali shrugged in response to Jude's questioning glance. "Found a man, yes."

"Who?" It was Lera again, practically begging to know of this mystery man. Of course, the fact she knew something her sister didn't caused Dali to keep it a mystery.

"Not telling. But I'm leaving, now. Have fun, you two. If you plan on doing anything when everyone's gone, do it safely. And clean up the place, too. It's going to be a mess."

"You could help, you know?"

"You're not supposed to ask your guests for help on cleaning up, Jude." He shrugged, and the two waved her off, exchanging good-byes before she exited the apartment.

--

"It took you long enough." Caleb grinned, inside her flat before she was even there, sitting on the couch with a magazine - a tabloid, naturally - in hand. She could guarantee he didn't read it, no. Gossip didn't interest him, but he told her it was intriguing to see how the "other half lived."

"It's five past ten!"

"Five minutes late. And I was here five minutes early. Therefore, I've been here ten minutes."

"How'd you get in?" she asked with a laugh, flipping on the light over the stove, reaching in the cupboards and pulling out a bag of grease-slathered potato chips. She opened the bag, ate a couple, and decided she'd had enough, letting the bag sit on the counter. That, Caleb thought, explained why her crisps and such were always so stale.

"You keep a key under the doormat. I hope you know how predictable that is. Anyone could find it."

"This is New Kinsington, Caleb," she said matter-of-factly, making towards the couch and sitting beside him, legs curled under her once her stilettos, of course, were carefully tucked to the side of the couch. "People don't get robbed. Nothing happens here."

"Right. Which is what makes it a -"

She stopped him, mid-sentence, with a kiss. She had him trapped, so to speak; a hand lightly on his shoulder, the other around him and keeping herself steady, propped on the arm of the couch. The kiss grew from one might give when greeting to the sort that certainly constituted for passionate and love-filled.

She let her fingers move over the buttons of his shirt, undoing them. She undid his tie, then, and ran her hands along his chest and managing to slip the shirt from his body. However, ceasing the kissing quite abruptly, she looked at him skeptically. "Wait." When he ignored her, going on kissing her, she shoved a hand in his face. "Caleb, wait."

"What?" he whined, voice mumbled.

"Sadie. What in God's name did you do with her?"

"Dropped her at her house, told her I'll be gone till morning nursing my old mum back to health. Seems she caught the flu or something like that. I don't remember exactly, but-"

"Morning? Ha. You certainly were expecting to be getting quite a lot tonight, now weren't you?" She grinned, giggling lightly. "And tomorrow, right? Tomorrow you're going to tell her that you've got to break things off?"

"Yes'm. To both." He let out a small laugh, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear, fingers brushing lightly over her skin as he did so. She smiled.

"Good. That's good. Heh. Don't you feel like you're involved in a scandal? The lust and passion you feel for one woman, namely: me, strongly outweighing the lack of the above mentioned for another woman, namely Sadie."

"Oh, please," he said, laughing and dismissing her words with a light, gentle kiss. "Are you done holding the Spanish Inquisition now?"

"Mmm," Dali pondered, rising to her feet and reaching for his hand, which he extended and she took. "Maybe." And that said, she led him into her bedroom, any doubts about love very much so in the past.

--

"I've missed you," she said sleepily, her eyes closed as Caleb ran his fingers lightly up and down her arm. Despite the brisk temperatures outside, which were prominent also inside due to a lack of decent heating in her building, she felt warm in his arms; her head resting beside his own, he occasionally placing a light kiss on the back of her neck or along her shoulders. The little things he did that sent shivers down her spine.

"Me too, love." She could feel him breathing, matching her own rhythm to his.

There was a silence that filled the room for a while, and he began to think she was asleep; after all, her eyes were closed, her breathing steady like someone who was asleep. He was proven wrong, however, when she shifted her body to face him, lifting a hand to his face, running a finger along the curves and lines.

"I love you," she said, letting her hand drop down and fiddling with the corner of a pillowcase. "But, I do have to ask..."

"What's that?"

"She didn't get any of the goods, did she?"

"She - the goods - what?" He looked at her, shaking his head. "No, she didn't. But why do you always have to say it like that?"

She let out a laugh. "Like what?"

"'The goods'? Christ, Dal. That's a new one, nay? Is it that hard to say 'had sex' or 'made love' or any of the million sayings that don't make me sound like a baked pastry?"

She shrugged. "I like pastries. I like you. It's all the same," she smiled, returning to her original arrangement of her back to his chest, head beneath his chin. "I just wanted to know."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I just did." She opened her mouth in a yawn, shutting her eyes once more. The silence was there, again, and his eyes were now shut, too, sleep beginning to creep into his mind.

"Caleb?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"Ahlovyootoo," he replied in mumbled, tired words, that nevertheless satisfied her and she let the room grow quiet again, matching her breathing with his. And she had to admit it felt damn good to fall sleep beside someone who she loved, and who loved her back, no matter how incomprehensible his words.

--