Remember Me

Maria pressed her hands together, knotting her fingers. Her eyelids
felt heavy, she couldn't remember when she had last slept. Or eaten for
that matter. Beside her sat a plastic cup filled with coffee that had
long since gone cold. Absentmindedly, she took a sip, instantly
regretting it as she winced at the bitter taste.

She tried to breathe. Her chest felt tight, as though someone was
sitting on it, weighing her down, and she couldn't. Here she was,
twenty nine years old, and she felt a hundred. That's what worry did to
you. Worry wracked through her entire body, coursing through every vein
and every molecule.

A light buzzed dully somewhere in the distance. She glanced at the
clock. Just turned one. The night porter, strolled by, offering a
distracted smile. Maria did not smile back. Instead she pulled her
jacket closer around her body. She was trembling. For three days
straight she had been trembling non stop. She couldn't help it.

Behind her a door clicked open and a man joined her in the empty
corridor. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. He nodded into
the room behind him and Maria stood. The first thing she saw was the
wires. So many wires. And tubes. And boxes that beeped. They surrounded
her. It was overwhelming.

His eyes flickered open and Maria stepped up next to the bed. He looked
sickly and pale, his head bandaged and his eye black and swollen. He
surveyed the room; the machines, the doctor and finally his gaze came
to rest on her. Her frowned and bit his lip. He opened his mouth but
found he could but mumble.

"Take your time. What is it you want to say?" The doctor smiled
patiently. He'd probably seen this so many times before.

Sighing deeply he hesitated and then looked up, right into Maria's
eyes. He found only three words. "Who are you?"

Maria felt her heart sink, her disappointment showing on her pretty
face. Twisting the gold band on her finger she whispered back,
"Michael. I'm your wife."

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The world sat still as he took in what she had said. His blank
expression told her there was no recognition there, nothing that said
he knew her. Because he didn't. The doctor flipped through Michael's
charts, nodding and making indistinct sounds. He smiled at Maria. She
knew that smile. You could fake it with the mouth but never with the
eyes.

"Why doesn't he remember?"

"Give him time. He's had a very serious knock to the head. Being
comatose for three days won't have helped. He'll get his memory back
soon enough. It'll just take time and patience".

Michael looked upset. He knew he was in hospital, he didn't remember
why, and he didn't recognise anyone in the room. Especially the woman
who claimed to be his wife. He studied her, standing there in half
shadow. She struck him as very pretty- long flaxen hair hanging loose
around her face, big emerald eyes and full pouted lips. But he didn't
know her. She could be anyone.

"Prove it," he rasped, unable to believe her had forgotten his own
wife. "Give me evidence".

Maria's eyes filled with tears as she pulled her wallet out of her back
pocket. Snapping it open she selected a photograph and passed it to
him. He studied it for a long moment. This was a happy day. They were
at the park. His arm was draped over her shoulder and he was whispering
in her ear. On his lap sat a little girl, no more than five years old.
Her eyes struck him. They were his eyes. Maria was clutching another
child. He was fair haired like her with rosy cheeks and her rose bud
mouth.

Michael shook his head violently, his eyes wide and alarmed. It scared
him, not knowing her, not knowing the names of his children. Was this
just a horrible dream? Would he wake up safe, with a life he
knew?

Maria reached for his hand. At first he recoiled, but seeing the hurt
in her eyes, he let her touch him. She put her left hand over his,
comparing their rings. Michael hadn't noticed his wedding band before.
It was straight all the way around and then dipped where it sat on top
of his finger. Gently Maria prised it off and slipped it over hers,
joining them on the curve. They fitted together perfectly.

Michael's eyebrows raised involuntarily. She put the ring back into his
hand and he studied his finger without it on. There was a white band
where his tan stopped and the ring started. That ring belonged on his
finger, without it there was a space. He slotted it back on. Now his
hand looked right. But he didn't feel anything.

He felt his head loll and the doctor nodded. "He's tired. He needs to
sleep now. You can come back in the morning."

Maria nodded miserably and stood for what seemed like an age. She
didn't know what to do. If it had have been Michael lying there she
would have wrapped her arms around him and told him everything would be
fine. But it wasn't Michael, just a scary shell that looked like him.
She leant forward and kissed him on the cheek.

"I'll see you tomorrow then. Bye". She walked out and did not look
back. Outside she collapsed onto a chair and sobbed her breaking heart
out. All the time she had known Michael she had always been able to see
herself in his eyes. Even when things had been bad she could see her
reflection. She knew she was everything to him, it was always a signal
that he loved her. But it had all gone wrong. The second she had looked
him in the eye was the second her heart had broken. She was gone.

In his bed Michael listened to this woman, his wife crying. He wanted
to do something, anything to stop her. It was horrible, a wailing that
cut right through his soul. The wailing of a wife who had lost her
husband. He may as well be dead. He was no good to her like this. He
wasn't her husband, not really. He wasn't anyone.

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The weak, early morning light filtered through the thin, standard grey
curtains. The birds twittered outside tunefully, almost singing in time
with one another. The day had started early for the hospital; the
nurses busied themselves, rubbing their eyes and smiling sleepily. The
doctors shuffled past in groups, their white coats flapping like sails
in a sea breeze. Outside the whole world carried on, preparing for
another day. Maria was not preparing for another day.

She sat, hands on lap, watching Michael. She had been there for hours,
just watching him. When he was asleep she could pretend last night had
never happened. He was hers again, he knew her name and he remembered
their past. He looked so handsome lying there that she felt an
overpowering urge to kiss him. She had missed that, being able to kiss
him. She regretted not doing it more often.

Getting slowly to her feet, Maria leant over Michael, so their faces
were inches apart. She could feel his soft, sugary breath wash over her
lips. They tingling excitedly in response. Slowly she put her mouth
over his, cupping his chin in her hand. The second their lips came into
contact Michael's eyes snapped open. But he didn't break away. He just
studied Maria, her eyes shut. His wife was kissing him and he didn't
know how to respond. It felt awkward. He kept still, hoping her lips
would ignite something buried deep inside him, hoping it would make the
fuzzy nothingness clear in his head. It depressed him when nothing
happened.

Maria must have sense him because her eyes opened suddenly and she
pulled away. Rubbing the back of her hand over her mouth she offered
him a sheepish grin.

"Morning. How's the head?"

"Good I guess. Better than last night".

"It was a lot to take in last night. Enough to make anyone's head
hurt."

He nodded and tried to smile. Her face seemed thinner than last night.
It had morphed from the pretty, youthful visage to something ghoulish
and foreign. But then everything was foreign to him.

"So.....", she hesitated, struggling to find conversation. "Are you
hungry?"

Michael shook his head. "Couldn't eat a thing".

"You should you know. Build your strength. For when you get
better".

Michael considered this. 'When I get better'. He didn't feel ill. He
felt fine actually. A little bump on the head and a few scratches but
not ill. But I am ill, he reminded himself, I have amnesia. I have a
life and family I know nothing about. I have to get better. Then
everything will be normal.

"But then you always were the stubborn type".

"Was I?"

Maria's forehead wrinkled. How could she do this? How could she raise
two kids and work and still find time to work with Michael on his past.
It was impossible. But it couldn't be impossible. Because even though
he didn't know her she still loved him. And nothing was impossible when
love was involved. Hadn't her mom always said that?

"Yes Michael", she whispered, smiling, "You are very stubborn".

Michael noticed this change. Her face looked less like a mask and more
like a human face. She was smiling and there was warmth there. And
love. She loved him and she was going to help him.

They were interrupted by a nurse in a red pinney. She was the
stereotypical joy maker of the ward, talking in a high pitched voice
with a silly grin across her face. She wheeled a steel trolley into his
room and parked it beside the bed.

"Good morning Mister Guerin how was your night?"

"It sucked actually".

Ignoring this blatantly negative remark the nurse (name badged as Susy)
pulled a metal tray out of her trolley and placed it on the table over
Michael's bed. Then she hauled him to a sitting position and fluffed
his pillows behind him.

"Cereal this morning. And toast. An excellent start to your day. And
what do you plan to do today?"

"I was thinking of a ten mile run...."

"Well I have books and magazines to keep you occupied and I'm sure you
and your wife want to catch up. Eat this right up, I'll be back to
check". With a smile and a skip Susy left. Immediately Maria began
laughing. Which started Michael off.

"I didn't think people like her existed. She's permanently happy. She
even managed to keep the smile when you said about the run".

Michael grinned, enjoying the feeling he got when he made Maria laugh.
He wished he could remember other times when she'd laughed. She had a
good laugh, clear and tinkly- like the ding of a glass as the best man
stands to give his speech at a wedding. He whole face seemed to lift
when she smiled, her eyes twinkling. She was beautiful, and for the
first time Michael wanted to know how they had met, what they had done
and what their life together was like.

Maria stopped laughing and dropped down on the chair beside Michael's
bed. Absentmindedly she put her hand over his and squeezed his fingers.
He squeezed hers back. Her mouth opened, as though she was about to say
something important but it closed again and she put her hand back to
her knee. They sat there for a long minute, their eyes wandering the
room, looking for anywhere to look other than each other. Finally
Michael spoke.

"What's in the bag?"

Maria glanced to her side, almost surprised to see a suede patchwork
shoulder purse sitting next to her.

"I brought our photo albums just in case, well you know, in case you
wanted to have a look. You don't have to. It was just an idea".

Michael nodded. "I'd like to look. Maybe it would help me." Wordlessly
Maria pulled the albums out of her bag and set them on the bed. The now
forgotten cereal from Susy was pushed aside as Michael placed the first
book on the table. Maria perched herself on the bed as he opened the
cover.

This was the oldest set of pictures, ones from when they were
teenagers. Some were of them at school, in others they were with a
group of friends. Michael stopped on their prom pictures. Maria was
dressed head to toe in white, with a delicate floral crown nestled
amongst her curls, Michael in a dark suit. They were dancing, posing,
play fighting, kissing. Each one was more beautiful than the next. As
he flicked on he found the same group of people kept appearing. A dark
haired couple, two striking blonde girls, a beefy guy and a thinner,
tall guy.

"Who are they all?" he asked, stopping at a group shot. Arms around
each other they looked so happy. Now, more than ever, he wished he
could remember them, his friends.

"Our friends from Roswell, where we grew up. My best friend Liz and
your best friend Max- well they were always made for each other. Had
the whole soulmate thing going on. Me and Alex- this one here- have
been friends since we were kids and him and Isabel are married now. Got
kids of their own. We never thought we'd see that happen- Isabel was
always the little princess and Alex was so.... nerdy I guess. Kyle and
Tess took longer to get together. She was kind of an outsider, she came
to Roswell later, and he was the typical jock. But they made it in the
end. He's coaching football on an international level now and she's
expecting their first baby in January."

"So everyone's still together, after this time?"

"Yep. Liz figures it was destiny that brought us all together. I think
she's right too." Suddenly feeling embarrassed Maria blushed and
glanced around the room. Michael nodded, trying to take in all the
names. Alex, Max, Isabel, Liz, Tess, Kyle, Maria.

The next book he picked up was covered in white leather and marked in
gold lettering which read 'To Commemorate The Joyous Occasion Which Is
The Wedding Of Michael Guerin And Maria DeLuca'. When he opened it up,
confetti shapes floated out, coating the bed. Maria giggled as one of
them landed on his nose. Gently, she pushed it away, careful not to
touch him anymore than was necessary, although inside she was burning
to.

These pictures were all professionally taken and portrayed a sultry
summer's day. Maria was dressed in pure white satin, formed into a
laced up, strapless bodice and full, Cinderella skirt. Her short veil
was perched elegantly on top of her head, where her flaxen curls made a
tumbling golden crown, and here and there were tiny lavender flowers,
which she also carried in her bouquet. Beside her stood the brown
haired girl - Liz?- dressed in a slim fitting, floor length satin gown,
also in lavender. He was dressed in top hat and tails, his friend Max
similarly attired. They both wore a single lavender flower in their
breast pockets. Isabel was wearing a pale pink suit and a fabulous,
wide brimmed hat, Alex(?) by her side in a black suit. The other
blonde, whose name Michael forgot, wore a green shift dress and high
court shoes, while Kyle wore a suit of very deep blue.

"We were the first to get married", Maria murmured, breaking into his
thoughts, "We surprised everyone".

"How do you mean?"

Maria smiled, trying to think how best to put this. "Well, we weren't
always loves young dream, I mean eventually we were but it was volatile
at times to say the least."

Michael frowned. This didn't sound good. He felt worry rise inside of
him. Hadn't he been good to Maria? "What was bad about it? I
didn't....... I didn't hit you or anything....."

"No! Oh god no!" Maria shook her head quickly, feeling guilty that
she'd caused him such alarm. "You would never have hurt me, no matter
how much I annoyed you. And I was always annoying you. It's just that
we're both head strong and that doesn't always promise smooth sailing.
But I've enjoyed every moment we've been together and you always say
there's nowhere else you'd rather be".

Michael could believe that. His life sounded so wonderful, so perfect.
Maria seemed such an idealistic wife and he had good friends, who cared
about him. Where else would he rather be? It sounded like
paradise.

The third album was dog eared and battered. When he asked Maria about
it she replied that it was his favourite. The second he opened it
Michael knew why. It was the family album, loaded with pictures of
children, his children. There they were in the garden, on a bench, at
school, at a birthday party. Such gorgeous kids always smiling. He came
upon a set just of him and the girl.

"She always was a daddy's girl", Maria grinned, her eyes betraying her
love for their daughter, "And you didn't help, spoiling her
rotten."

Michael's heart felt heavy and sore. He racked his brain, trying to
think. But he couldn't. He drew a blank every time. He felt like he'd
let his daughter down, not remembering. Wearily he looked at Maria.
"What's her name?"

"Romily".

"That's beautiful."

"You would think so. It was you who chose it", she giggled, as a memory
came into her head.

"What? What is it?"

"No I was just remembering the night I went into labour. She came,
like, two weeks early and we hadn't a clue what we were going to call
her. So you went out, in one of the worst storms we'd seen in months,
to buy up all the baby naming books you could find. I remember lying
there, wondering where on earth you were and all of a sudden you just
walk in, soaked to the skin, and shout 'Romily!'. The whole ward heard
you and I thought you'd gone mad. You had spent, like, $30, on these
books just to find this one name. I think I gave them to Tess for their
baby."

Michael laughed aloud, his eyes shining. Romily, his little girl.
Daddy's pride and joy. He yearned to recall that night, when he'd
bought the baby books. Why had he chosen Romily, what did it mean to
him? It wasn't fair to take his memories away, it was killing him.
Maria noticed his eyes glazing over- she knew how he must be feeling.
If only she could put all his memories back into his head somehow, to
stop his hurting. She couldn't bear to see him feeling so bad.

Trying to bring him back to reality she turned the page. These were of
the little boy in hospital, the day of his birth. Michael was cradling
the tiny life in his hands, his eyes welling with tears. Maria was
lying back on her pillows contentedly, idly stroking Romily's hair.
Michael traced his finger over each of their faces, his heart welling.
His rational side told him amnesia took all his memories but he
couldn't figure it out. How can it take all his memories? How could
there be nothing left? There wasn't a shred, not a tiny snippet of
recollection. Maria sensed he was falling into despair again so she
quickly began talking.

"He was the planned one. We didn't know I was expecting Rommy until I
was three months gone. But we knew we wanted another one, just to give
Rommy a play mate. And we were ready for more kids, I mean you used to
say that one day you'd like a house full of them. Which surprised me
cos I always thought of you as a loverman before a father. But you are
the most amazing father Michael. You love our kids so much, I can see
it every time you look at them".

Michael smiled, a sad smile that betrayed just how much he wanted to
remember. "Tell me something about our son. About his birth."

Maria felt her heart lift. He wanted to know something about their son.
He had called him 'our son'. Maybe this wasn't going to be so
hard.

"Well, his name is Rafe. He's just turned two. We were well prepared
for him- I was in labour for sixteen hours. Rommy just sort of popped
out, Rafe took his time, but I knew he'd get there in the end. You were
a major worry wart the entire time, you weren't even consoled by Max.
We'd been having a party, a baby shower, when my waters broke so the
eight of us piled into the People Carrier and they were all standing
outside with you while I was puffing and panting through the night. The
last hour was really bad but you were there with me, even though the
thought of something dropping out of me at any moment gave you the
shivers.

I remember lying there, squeezing your hand and calling you for all you
were worth. I looked at you in desperation and yelled that it hurt so
bad and you turned to me, all wide eyed and serious, and replied 'I
promise never to go near you again. Does that help?' And it did. The
pain seemed to fade- you just made me laugh so much. Afterward, holding
Rafe, we were surrounded by all our friends and you said it was the
best day of your life. And you meant it. Which made it the best day of
my life."

Michael brushed a tear from his eye. How could this happen? He'd lived
a better life than he could dream of and it was all taken away. What
had he done to deserve this? He bit back tears as they got ready to
fall. He couldn't let Maria see him crying, it would only upset her
more. It was bad enough having half a husband without having half a
crying husband.

The door opened suddenly and Susy bustled in. Glancing disapprovingly
at the uneaten cereal she wagged her finger in Michael's face, who
resisted the urge to bite it off.

"You didn't eat your cereal Mister Guerin. How do you expect to get
strong and well if you don't eat?"

"I was thinking of staying sick forever so we could spend more time
together."

"Well I'll bring you something else later. Shall I change the sheets
now or wait?"

"Change them now", Maria replied, standing, "I was just going".

Michael sat up. "You don't have to. I mean I could use the
company."

"I know. But I gotta go to work. I'll be back though. Tonight
maybe".

He picked the albums off the bed and reached them out to her. "You keep
them", she whispered smiling, "It'll give you something to do after
your run".

She winked and closed the door behind her. Michael sat back on the bed
and looked at Susy who was busying herself by the window, trying to
pretend she hadn't heard their conversation. Holding the albums to his
chest, he sighed. This was going to be a long haul. One that they might
not both come out of.

The days melted into weeks. Maria came by everyday, bringing a whole
stack of new stories with her. They would sit for hours talking. Well
Maria talked and Michael listened, absorbing every detail like his life
depended on it. She told him of Rafe's first step, Romily's dance
trophy, the first time he told her he loved her. Michael lay at night
dedicating everything to memory, building up his past. But still he
wasn't happy. He could talk about what he'd said in his speech at his
wedding and what sort of cake they'd had. But he couldn't recall how'd
he felt the second he'd seen Maria at the top of the aisle or how he'd
felt to be man and wife. That scared him more than anything. He knew
the facts but he didn't know anything important. He couldn't describe
his feelings.

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One morning Michael woke to see Maria sitting next to him. But she
wasn't alone. Two tiny faces stared hopefully at him. The second he
registered who they were Romily jumped at him, wrapping her short arms
around him. Running her tiny hand down his cheek she kissed him on the
nose whispering, "Hello daddy. Wakey wakey".

Michael sat up, trying to gather his wits. Maria shrugged. "They
couldn't wait any longer to see you". He nodded and pulled his daughter
onto his lap. Toying with her springy dark curls he observed her. She
looked back, dark eyes wide. It was almost as if she was looking for
him, way back in the distance. Looking for her real daddy.

"Mummy said you'd be acting weird but you don't look any different. Are
you different daddy?" Her little mouth opened in anticipation and
Michael didn't have the words or the heart to try and explain any of
it.

"No honey daddy isn't weird. He's just a bit sick."

Taking this as acceptable Romily began playing with a doll she had on
her knee. Rafe looked at Michael with big blue eyes. Maria jiggled him
on her knee.

"Sweetie you want to say hello to daddy?" Rafe shook him head and hid
his face in the folds of Maria's sweater. Michael tried to smile. "He's
shy. Give him time. He hasn't seen you for ages".

They sat for a while, making small talk and trying not to think about
Michael's condition. Maria could tell he didn't remember either of the
children and it made her so sad. All these weeks she had been building
up to this moment, having convinced herself that seeing the kids would
make everything better. He would suddenly remember everything and would
be Michael again. But there was nothing.

Maria felt hollow. She actually wished she could cry but she couldn't.
She was long past the point of crying. Her tears had been spent, night
after night as she wept into her pillow. She had always needed Michael-
he was her strength, her prop. She needed his love like she needed air
to breathe. Now he wasn't loving her anymore, she realised just how
much she needed him. She felt broken and torn, she was no longer whole.
She couldn't cry- it had become more serious than crying could
cure.

A doctor swished in, her light airy steps not making a sound on the
lino. She was extremely beautiful, a face right off the catwalk. Her
long, black hair was expertly twisted into a French knot and her high
cheekbones made the most of her dark, almond eyes. For a brief second
Maria wondered if Michael, in his non-husband state, found her
attractive. But she banished the thought from her mind. Paranoia was
setting in and she refused to entertain it. Michael was going to get
better. It was fast becoming her mantra.

"Hello Mister Guerin, Missus Guerin, I'm Dr Stevens." She extended a
slender hand and they both shook. "I've come to have a chat about the
next step with Michael's treatment. Perhaps the children would be
better off in the day centre?" Maria nodded and Susy stepped into the
room, her smile wider than ever. Cheerfully she threw a bemused Rafe
onto her hip and took Romily by the hand.

"Where are we going? I want to stay with daddy".

"Go with the nice nurse sweetie", Michael smiled, "The grown ups have
to talk". Doubtfully she followed Susy out of the room and the doctor
shut the door. Propping herself next to the bed Dr. Stevens glanced
over Michael's records.

"You've been making excellent progress Mister Guerin. I am most
impressed with how fast your recovery has been." At this Michael raised
an eyebrow. How could his recovery be good? He still couldn't remember
anything.

"Doctor," he began, "When am I gonna get my memory back? It's been
nearly a month. Surely I can't be getting better if I don't remember
anything."

"Be patient Mister Guerin, these things are very delicate. You have
been progressing well in therapy and I have no doubt you will make a
full recovery. It'll just take time".

"I haven't got time Doctor. My family needs me now".

"I'm sure your wife understands. How do you feel Missus Guerin?"

Maria wasn't sure how to reply. The truth was she didn't understand.
She wanted Michael back now, right this second. She didn't deserve to
lose her husband and her children didn't deserve to lose their father.
How could life be so unkind?

"I don't know," she confessed quietly, "I want Michael to be his old
self again. But if it takes time then we'll have to wait".

The doctor nodded, satisfied with this answer. She pursed her lips
together. She hated this part of the treatment, the part where
everything could fall to pieces. Years of training had given her the
right words but there was never a right time.

"There's something else I was hoping we could discuss", she said
tactfully, "Michael's right- it had been a month and the department
feels he has made a wonderful recovery. In fact we have no reason to
keep him here. Very soon Michael will need to be thinking about going
home".

Maria felt her heart stop and Michael felt his chest tighten. Neither
had let themselves think about what would happen once he was allowed
out of hospital. They knew it would happen but they hadn't considered
it being so soon. Actually they hadn't considered it being before
Michael got his memory back.

Maria tried to imagine a calm blue ocean. Michael's therapist had once
told her to do this when she was afraid and the thought of Michael
coming home was the scariest thing she'd had to deal with since the
accident. CALM BLUE OCEAN, CALM BLUE OCEAN, CALM BLUE OCEAN. It wasn't
helping, she could still hear the words 'going home' and she could
still see Michael's face when he heard them. Pale, stricken. He didn't
want to come home.

"Coming home?" Maria whispered, resisting the urge to run out of room
screaming, "So soon? He still has no memory. Shouldn't he be receiving
therapy until he starts remembering things again?"

"He will be receiving therapy, I can recommend a very good doctor. But
you have to understand that we are here to look after sick people. And
Michael is no longer physically sick. He can and should be counselled
but he will have to go home. And you never know, often the best memory
jolter can be returning to what the patient knows. This could make the
world of difference in Michael's treatment." Dr Stevens smiled and
stood up. "I understand that you are worried about this next step but
it is the best thing for Michael in the long run."

She shook hands with them both again and left. Michael swallowed
uncomfortably. He didn't know how to feel. He should be thrilled about
leaving this drab, miserable place and going home to his family. But he
didn't feel thrilled- he felt sick. He knew Maria felt the same- it was
written all over her face. At least there were people here to look
after him specially- if he went home he'd be in the way. Maria had a
job, the kids, he'd be another burden on her. He didn't want to make
her life harder in any way- she was everything to him. His little life
line. He could only guess what she had been going through this past
month, worrying, explaining to the children and they had only just got
round to talking semi-freely to one another. Going home could destroy
the delicate relationship they'd built up.

Maria shifted in her seat. "The kids will be so pleased you're coming
home, they've been so anxious this past month." She smiled and tried to
look pleased about this latest development. "I guess we ought to be
thinking about when this is gonna happen. I mean the doctor said soon
but what can you get from that, it could be days or....."

"Maria". Michael stopped her mid-ramble and she shut her mouth, her
shoulders drooping defeatedly. She looked up at him, those striking
green eyes boring into his head.

"Can I be blunt Michael? Is that okay?"

He nodded. "Of course. What do you want to say?"

Weaving a strand of blonde ringlet round her finger she bit her lip.
Michael smoothed the bed linen with his palms, trying to look like he
was patiently waiting for her to speak instead of jumping up and down
like a maniac inside. Her forehead had a tiny wrinkle through it, a
sign Michael had learnt well. It meant she was upset. And on the verge
of tears.

Pressing her fingers against their mate on the other hand, Maria
glanced up again. "I don't exactly know how to say this. It isn't
something you ever think you'll say to your husband." Michael watched
her, his eyes soft and ready for anything. "I'm scared Michael", she
whimpered, her voice cracking, "I mean I've only really got used
to...the situation and now we have to think about you coming back home
and I don't know how to handle this. Do you get back to work? Are you
to rest? What happens if you get sick or have nightmares? Do I have to
take time off work cos we can't afford it and how much is the therapy
going to be? I'm sorry Michael but this is all a bit too much".

She smiled sadly, her lips cracking over her teeth. "You used to say I
was strong. You'd say 'De DeLuca, you may think you're a weak, blonde
girl and you may look like a weak, blonde girl but you are so much
stronger than you know. You can handle anything'. There were times when
I'd actually think about the possibility that you were right. Maybe I
could deal with anything. But I was wrong. You were wrong. I'm sorry
Michael, I think I'm just about to let you down when you need me
most".

She bent over his bed and pressed her face into the sheets, crying hard
and loud. Michael ran his hand over the back of her head, racking his
brain for the right words. Something to make everything better.

"Maria", he whispered, coaxing her eyes to his, "I think I was right
about you. In fact I know I was. You have so little faith in yourself
but you are so together you know? This past month has been bad, I know
that, you've had everything left up to you but it will get better. I'll
do everything I can to make it right again. And someday it'll all be
normal. I'll be me and you'll be you and we'll be normal."

Her face lifted a little and she rested her head against his chest. Her
smell hit him and instantly a flash of something bolted through his
brain. Grape vines. A huge field of grape vines. They were all around
him, their sweet scent invading his nostrils. He could see the rough,
sandy earth, hell, he could almost taste it. It was incredible, it was
real.

"Grape vines", he exclaimed, causing Maria to start and sit up, "I am
thinking about grape vines. Why am I thinking about grape vines?"

Maria frowned, her eyes rolling. Suddenly they fixed firmly on him.
"White grapes?" she asked him quickly.

"Yes".

"It's hot, there's grape vines everywhere, there's a really strong
smell of crushed grapes every place you stand?"

He swallowed. "Yes. How did you..?"

"Our honeymoon!" Maria screamed and jumped up, bouncing on her toes.
"We went to Italy and it was really hot and we were staying with a
family who had a vineyard and when you got up in the morning you could
smell the grapes from your window! Oh you remember! YOU
REMEMBER!"

Michael felt a weight lift from him. He had a memory, he was getting
better. Suddenly he couldn't recall why he had been so miserable just
minutes earlier he wanted to shout and yell with happiness. He had a
memory, something real, something Maria hadn't dictated to him. He
heaved himself out of bed and she pulled him into a springy embrace. He
hugged her back, feeling good that he could be like this with her. She
was his wife- he had the right to hug her and not feel bad.

Maria clapped her hands and took quick, shallow breaths. "This is
wonderful", she gasped, feeling like she was going a million directions
at once, "You're getting better. You remembered our honeymoon". She
calmed herself down a little and sat them both down on the bed,
adopting a slightly more serious face. "So... do you remember anything
else. What we did, where we went, the people we stayed with?"

Michael searched through his head, through everything that was stored
there. Susy, doctor, hospital food, photos, Romily, Rafe, grapes,
earth. Nothing new. He shook his head.

"Oh well it's a start", Maria grinned, unable to contain her slight
disappointment. She wanted everything now, not later. The sooner he
remembered the sooner they'd be a couple again. She'd be able to kiss
him when she wanted, massage his neck at the end of the day, he'd look
at her and tell her she'd never looked so beautiful, they'd make love
again. She felt her heart swell. She missed him, she needed him.

She stood and gazed down on his face. "Gotta go", she said sighing,
"Romily's at dance class and my mom's coming down to see us. Maybe when
you come home we'll have her up to stay with us. The kids love her and
I have to say your relationship with her is much better now she isn't
afraid you'll carry off her little girl and never bring her back". She
beamed and threw her bag over her shoulder. "Bye then Michael
Guerin".

"Bye then Maria Guerin". She shut the door and he felt himself relax.
He loved having her with him, he wished she could be there all the
time, but he also felt under pressure to do everything right. He didn't
want to say the wrong thing or say too little or give her the wrong
impression or.... He just wanted everything perfect. She deserved
nothing less.

Maria stood outside his door, watching him through the blinds. She was
thrilled he had remembered the vineyard but scared too. How did she
know what to expect when he came home? Everything was going to
change.

Feeling a slight tug at her elbow Maria whirled around and came face to
face with Doctor Stevens.

"Missus Guerin, I was wondering if there was anything you'd like to
discuss. About Michael coming home. This can be one of the hardest
steps to take in treatment and I got the impression you had a few
questions". Maria felt like kissing the woman. It wasn't going to be
hard- it was going to be back breaking and she needed to know it all.
Smiling wearily she allowed the doctor to guide her into her office
where they sat down and discussed the return of Maria's husband.

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Michael sat poker straight in the seat, unable to stop a nervous
butterfly flitting through his stomach. The world whizzed past him in a
blur of brown and black. He didn't know where he was going, where the
car would stop. Beside him Maria anxiously drummed the wheel with her
fingers. She repeatedly scratched the back of her hand, causing an
angry looking rash to appear. She was also nervous but it was a
different kind. Michael didn't know what to expect and it scared him.
Maria did know what to expect and that scared her even more.

They pulled into a leafy boulevard and Maria swept into a narrow
driveway beside a large yellow house. Michael struggled out of his seat
and rested his chin on the top of the car, staring at the building. It
was bigger than he'd thought it'd be. The way Maria talked, struggling
with her job and the kids, she'd made it sound like they were living on
the edge. He wouldn't have been surprised if they'd ended up in some
squalid flat.

Maria swung her legs out of the car and stood up, stretching after the
long drive. "What do you think? Nice huh?"

"Yeah", Michael smiled, "It's big".

"We used to call it our dream home", Maria replied, reaching into the
back for his things, "When we got married we were living in this
rundown apartment in the city and we saw this place one day in the
paper and we were hooked. Saved for months, just for some house we
hadn't even been inside. Finally we got the money together and bought
it. And it was perfect. Of course."

Michael smiled and followed her to the house. Above the door was a
plaque of dark wood, engraved with the words 'Significanto per noi'.
Maria pointed to it. "You know what that means?" He shook his
head.

"Do I speak, what is that..Spanish?"

"Italian. It means 'Meant for us'. We came back from honeymoon and this
place was ours for the taking. Like fate, you said. Our perfect home
for our perfect life." She grinned at the memory then blushed,
realising she'd just revealed something a little more personal to
him.

Michael pretended not to notice and instead involved himself with
studying the window boxes on the ledges. At that moment the door flew
open and Romily dashed out, wrapping herself around Michael's legs
protectively. Laughing, Michael pulled her into his arms and snuggled
into her neck. It felt nice to get a welcome that was so unaffected, so
natural. He wondered if there would ever be a time when Maria could
embrace him without her body stiffening in response.

As quickly as she had come, Romily wriggled free and ran back into the
house. Maria shrugged and disappeared after her. Michael followed and
immediately stopped to inspect the house.

It was bright and fresh, yellow carpets and walls giving everything a
sunny glow. Several bunches of flowers stood limply in vases, sympathy
notes attached. A sweet odour hung in the air, like honeysuckle or
jasmine. It filled his nose and he could feel it seeping into his bones
like a warm drug. Visual reminders there was children present where
everywhere: small, odd shoes lay on their sides, abandoned, roller
skates sitting precariously on the bottom stair and a strange looking
doll, half it's hair missing, balancing itself on the hall table.

'This is my home' Michael thought, taking everything in 'This is where
I am supposed to belong. So why do I feel like some sort of
parasite?'

Maria set his bags down and smiled. "So this is it. Moment of truth and
all. You wanna come through? This is your house after all". Giggling
unnecessarily she led him through to the family room where a teenage
girl sat jiggling Rafe on her knee. When she saw Michael she got to her
feet and dumped the boy into his arms.

"Glad you're home, he's been crying all day. You're out of juice. Catch
you later Mr G." Grabbing her money off the table she left, slamming
the door behind her.

Michael frowned. "What a charming girl".

"Tell me about it", Maria replied, staring after her, "She's cheap,
though. Which is always useful". Michael didn't understand. They had
this huge house, expensive car and new things everywhere. Why did they
need to save so badly? He didn't have long to ponder on this as Rafe
started struggling and he had to put him down.

Maria flopped into an armchair and Michael took her lead, sitting
delicately on the edge of the chair next to her. She shook her head.
"This won't do you know", she said, picking at a loose thread on the
fabric, "This is your house, don't be scared to do things without me
telling you to. I know you're finding this hard, I am too, but we are
both gonna have to deal. For the kids and for our own sanity. And
smile. It won't be that bad".

He smiled, for her sake, his lips cracking over his teeth. How naive
she was. This was gonna be hell.

By the end of the day he had been given a run down of the household,
learned the security alarm code and had even fixed the leaky kitchen
tap. It was quietly decided that Michael would sleep downstairs 'until
things became a little less strange'. He didn't think that would help
but he agreed. The last thing they needed to do was fight. He was only
just home. They ate in relative silence, the only noise being Romily's
idle, innocent chatter and Rafe making aeroplane noises. Neither child
noticed the tension, though it was suffocating the couple. Michael
wished things could be different. Just for a moment. Just to remember
how good it was to be a person. Instead of a shell without
identity.

He slept fitfully. A strange house with strange smells, strange sounds.
He longed to find something familiar. And he knew where to get it.
Lying next to her, so close he could smell the scent of her skin, he
felt okay. Nice even. She was the only thing that made him feel semi-
whole. She filled some of him up again, even if it was only a small
bit. Maria was precious. He was glad he had her. In the morning he went
back to the couch, just before sunrise. Was he destined to live his
life like this, sneaking away before his wife knew he was there? Was
that all Lady Fate had to offer? A sneaky look at a perfect life he
couldn't live. What a raw deal.

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A few days later Maria sat him down to explain a few things. Her eyes
were dark, her hair lank. She was feeling the strain too, he
concluded.

"So I guess you need a bit of a background", she started, her arms
folded, unconsciously putting up a guard against him, "This is all the
stuff that we didn't talk about while you were in hospital. Firstly you
don't have a nine to five job, you are a full time artist.
Congratulations".

Michael's raised an eyebrow. "I paint?"

"And draw. You've been doing it for years. You have great talent." She
pointed to the pictures hanging on the walls. "They are all yours". He
looked at them. They were good, but he could see faults, little things
that niggled him. Obviously his own then.

"What else?"

"I work at a bar-come-restaurant in town, 'Betty's Piano Bar', which
turns into a piano room at night. I sing there sometimes, just as part
time thing. I work from twelve til six, serving drinks and waiting
tables. If you ever need me there the number's on the side." He nodded
her on.

"Okay here's the stuff you want to know but daren't ask." Maria sighed.
There was no easy way of telling Michael about his past, his childhood.
She had thought of not telling him, of keeping the sad parts of his
life shrouded in mystery but she couldn't. They weren't her memories to
play with. He had to know it all. "You are probably wondering about
your past, your parents and stuff".

"I had been thinking about it", Michael confessed, "But everything's
been happening so fast I didn't have time to wonder why they didn't
come to see me".

"Well wonder no longer. The truth is you don't know who your real
parents are. You were in foster care when you were a kid. But you got
permission to live on your own when you were sixteen, which is why you
haven't had any relatives visit. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news
Michael".

He sighed. He knew it would only be so long before he got some bad
news. But the funny thing was, he didn't really feel bad. Actually he
felt fine. He was so happy to gain things in his life, like the kids
and Maria that losing something he didn't have anyway meant very
little. In a strange way he was relieved. The less people he had in his
life, the less people he would hurt when he couldn't remember their
names.

"I think that's all the basics", Maria stated, sitting up, "Any
questions? God I feel like your teacher".

"You are my teacher. In a way", he replied smiling. She smiled back.
"Actually there was something. We lived in Roswell right? Well why did
we move out here? Why not stay with all our friends?"

"We followed your dream Michael", Maria brushed the hair from her face,
"You weren't gonna make any money in Roswell so we moved to the city.
More of a market, your agent said".

"You moved all the way out here, just for me?"

Maria grinned, showing two rows of straight pearly teeth. "Of course
you moron. I'd do anything for you. You know that".

"I do now". They stared at each other, Maria wishing Michael would say
those three little words and Michael wishing he knew what Maria wanted
him to say. Eyes burning into each other they watched. Both were scared
of the bond that was forming, it was so foreign and strange, almost
unnatural. Maria was used to Michael's easy way with love. He didn't
need to tell her he loved her, she knew. It was all around her, his
love, it was just there. This weird sort of admiration new Michael had
developed for her was worrying her. It just wasn't Michael. Michael, on
the other hand, wanted to love Maria but didn't know how. Did he love
her now? What if he did and didn't realise. And should he tell her?
What if he did and she thought he was lying? This was all so confusing.
He just wanted to be what she wanted. But that was difficult- he didn't
know what that was.

Just then Romily came in with Rafe in her wake and demanded lunch.
Maria sighed and wearily rose to her feet but Michael gently pressed
her back down. "This is my house, right? So I can make lunch". Maria
looked surprised but allowed him to take the challenge.

Slowly he made his way round the kitchen, discovering what each
cupboard held and what was in the fridge. He eventually decided on
sandwiches and deftly whipped up a towering pile. Setting them
triumphantly on the table he smiled. "Whaddaya think?"

"I like. I forgot you were such a whizz in the kitchen", Maria winked
at him and helped Rafe with a sandwich. Romily clambered onto Michael's
knee and allowed him to select something for her. They sat in
comfortable silence and Michael realised this was the first time he'd
felt part of the family. It was...nice.

Days and weeks past. Maria went back to work and Michael stayed at home
and looked after Rafe while Romily was at school. He liked being alone
in the day, it gave him a chance to prowl around the house and
reacquaint himself with the little details. He spent hours going
through boxes of old things, sparking little recollections- a colour, a
smell, a feeling. He loved remembering things, it made Maria's face
light up when he told her. Romily was quick to love him, she just
welcomed him back into the family as if he had never been away. Rafe
was a harder nut to crack but they were slowly building up trust with
each other and he was no longer shy with Michael. He stayed on the
couch and Maria didn't mention his moving into their room. He didn't
push it but accepted it as gracefully as he could, often creeping into
her room late at night to experience some of the closeness he missed
out on sleeping downstairs.

Slowly Michael found a place in their lives again, slotting himself in
where he could. He knew that Maria didn't fully accept him and maybe
she never would but there was affection there that he hadn't noticed
before. She kissed him when she left for work, she hugged him when she
came back, sometimes she would take his hand for no reason at all.
Michael treasured every touch and every look. He had fallen for Maria
in a big way and needed those little reminders that she cared. He
wasn't sure whether he was falling in love afresh or if the feelings he
had for her before the accident were just surfacing again. But what he
felt was deep, something that he could sense all the time, everywhere.
It touched him when he saw her abandoned coffee cup or her sweater
lying over the chair. It affected him when he smelt her perfume or when
he found her hairbrush, threads of golden hair running through the
bristles. It was in everyone and everything. Was it love? Only time
would tell.

One night, about six months after his arrival and when the kids were
long in bed, Maria prepared a meal and afterwards they sat together and
talked over red wine. Maria reached over and lightly caressed the
collar of Michael's clean white shirt.

"I'm impressed. You scrub up nicely".

"As do you", he replied, his eyes running over her knee length black
halter dress, "I don't think you've ever looked more beautiful". Maria
nodded.

"Thank you. I agree". They laughed and Michael poured out more wine.
Maria took a long swallow and looked directly at Michael. "So how are
you getting on Michael", she wondered, her eyes soft, "You feeling okay
about everything?"

"Yeah, I feel good. A lot better than I though I would. It's been
strange but good too. A bit of an oxymoron I think".

"Ah well you just gave yourself away" she answered, "You can't be my
Michael, he doesn't even know what oxymoron means". He pushed her
shoulder playfully and pouted.

"I resent that, Mrs Guerin. I am the very definition of
intelligence."

"Ahhh!" she yelped, mock horrified, "Stop using big words. You're
scaring me."

"Right that's it!". Dipping his finger into the left over whipped cream
, he collected a large splodge and smeared it into onto Maria's nose.
She squealed and returned the favour. Soon they were chasing each other
round the kitchen with handfuls of whipped cream. Finally Michael
cornered Maria and began slowly moving in, his weapon poised above her
head.

"No, you wouldn't dare Michael. Don't even think about it".

"I wouldn't dare? Big words from a small lady". Grinning he held the
cream inches from her face then suddenly turned his hand and smudged
the entire handful down his own face, covering every inch of skin.
Maria burst out laughing.

"You are mad. I can't believe you did that". Their eyes locked and her
smile faded as his thoughts mirrored her own. On impulse she took his
face in her hands and pulled his mouth onto hers. The force of their
first real kiss was electric and powered through each of their bodies.
Michael took the initiative and ran his hands over Maria's shoulders
and down to the small of her back, drawing her closer to him. She
whimpered and wrapped her arms round his neck, pulling herself off the
ground and into his arms.

Moving to the table he eased her onto it and began planting butterfly
kisses on her bare shoulders. Her breath grew quick as she responded,
locking him to her body with her legs. An odd sensation ran through her
at that point. A feeling that this was wrong. Her body was screaming
the go ahead but for all the wrong reasons. This was her husband but he
was forbidden. She ached to have him make love to her but there would
be no love there. Just passion. And before they did this there had to
be love. Which would take a while.

"Michael", she whispered, her voice hoarse, "Michael we have to stop".
He pulled round to face her, his eyes wild. "We can't do this. You
don't want this, not really".

"Of course I want it..."

"No you don't. I know you're doing this to make me feel better. I know
and it's okay".

He shook his head, running an unsteady hand through her hair. "No that
isn't true I swear. I'm doing this because I want to. Because....
because I think I'm falling in love with you". For a small second he
thought she was going to cry. But she bit it back well and the look was
replaced with one of confused anger. Jumping off the table, Maria blew
out the candle and strode upstairs to their room. Michael heard the key
turn in the lock. Dejected and lonely, Michael flopped onto the couch.
He was confused- how could Maria kiss him that way, so passionately,
and then just end it so quickly. He was barely standing after that
kiss. Women were complicated and Maria, he was sure, was one of the
most complicated women he had ever met. Sighing, he turned over. It was
going to be a long night.

Upstairs Maria wept into her pillow. How could he do that? Just say it
like that? Like it was no big deal. Those three words, the three she
wanted to hear from him the most, were now stabbing her heart like
knives. She had envisaged the day when he would say them to her- he
would sit down, take her hands in his and tell her how he thought about
her all the time, how he longed to be more than the guy on the couch.
Then he would say the words. And everything would be rose-tinted and
they'd be the way they were. But not like this. Not when he was
obviously saying it to get her into bed. Oh God, she missed him so
much. Night after night in a cold bed, a space where he should be. It
was enough to drive a woman insane. And maybe this would do just
that.

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Maria sat, her feet beneath her, watching two birds chattering to each
other in the tree outside the window. It was a beautiful day, the best
part of the morning, when the world seemed to rise and shake away it's
slumber. Everything had renewed itself miraculously overnight, like a
new world had been built, the old one taken away. It offered the
opportunity for fresh starts and new beginnings. A new world, a new
day, a new start. Maria needed a new start. More than anything she
needed a new start. A chance to make things different.

She started as Michael stumbled into the room, rubbing his eyes. Light
stubble peppered his chin and his eyes were hollow and dark. Not one of
the easiest nights he'd had by the looks of it. Instinctively Maria
poured him some coffee and pushed the cup to his waiting hand. He took
a thoughtful slug and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Maria
smiled. She recognised that gesture. She'd practically had to tape his
hand to his side when she was teaching Romily table manners. He was not
the ideal role model in those sorts of situations.

He tried not to meet her eyes and failed miserably. His eyes seemed to
search out hers, like some sort of homing device. Damn his natural
instincts. He tried to think of something else, tried to focus on the
pair of birds by the window but he couldn't. Couldn't ignore the
intense silence that divided him from Maria. Couldn't ignore the hurt
vibes she was radiating. Couldn't ignore the searing urge he felt to
wrap his arms around this beautiful, delicate creature and never let
go.

Just as he felt his arms twitching towards her she got to her feet and
stood by the breakfast bar, scraping her hair into a pony tail. "You'll
have to take Rommy to school k? I have to go out somewhere." He nodded
and she left, her dressing gown trickling behind her.

Ten minutes later he heard the front door shut and the car start.
'Great', he thought as he drained his cup, 'she's in a mood and I'm
walking'.

He walked slowly, Romily's faithful little hand in his and Rafe perched
on his back. It was warm out and everything was in full Autumn mode.
All golds and russets. He loved this time of the year. Or did he? Was
Fall his favourite season? Ugh he had to stop this. He liked what he
liked, it didn't matter about before. He had to stop worrying about the
guy he used to be. He was who he was and before he could be what others
wanted he had to be what he wanted. Starting with making Fall his
favourite season.

The walk to the school wasn't long and Romily gave detailed
instruction. When they arrived other parents were dropping their kids
off, a kiss on the cheek and a warm smile their parting gifts. When
they got to the gate Romily dropped Michael's hand and joined a little
blonde girl who was saying goodbye to her mother, who was knelt down to
her daughter's height. When she stood, Michael got a full view of her
face and features.

She was in her late twenties, shoulder length blonde hair and striking
eyes. Her figure, although hidden by her long dark coat, seemed slim
and tall. When she saw Romily she smiled and the smile widened as she
saw Michael. Pulling her collar up she walked over and grinned.
"Michael. It's good to see you again. It's been too long. How are you
keeping? I only just heard about the accident, I was wondering why I
hadn't seen you in a while."

"Um yeah, hi. I'm sorry, it's the amnesia, I can't remember who you
are."

"I didn't think you'd forget me in a hurry. It's Courtney", she
giggled, staring him straight in the eye, "Courtney Banks."

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"Right. I'll have to remember that". Michael smiled, thinking how nice
it was to have friends, friends who worried about him. Unlike Maria who
didn't seem to want anything to do with him.

"What are you up to now? You want to go back to mine for coffee? Catch
up". Just as he was about to decline her offer Michael hesitated. What
was wrong with having coffee with this woman? What did it matter that
she was extremely attractive or that she kept touching his arm without
cause? She was interested in talking to him, more than Maria anyway,
and it was only coffee. What could happen?

"Sure. Why not. What about Rafe though?"

"He can play with my other daughter Sorcha. She's the same age. Come
on, I'll drive. It's five minutes from your house". Nodding Michael
followed her, strapping Rafe in the back seat with Sorcha. The journey
was short and when they reached her house Michael noticed it was not as
imposing as theirs. It was small but well kept with a neat little
garden in front. Courtney jumped out and lifted Sorcha into her
arms.

"Come on honey. Let's find go and play with Rafe huh?" Smiling at
Michael who picked up Rafe she led them into the house. The smell was
different, like leather. Everything was immaculate, the glass topped
dining table sparkling and the carpets clean and bouncy. Quite
different to the way he lived with Maria. There wasn't a toy in
sight.

Dropping her daughter into her playpen Courtney flicked the coffee
maker on and leant against the bench. Michael followed her example,
setting Rafe beside Sorcha and stood next to her by the machine.

"I nearly died when I heard what had happened to you. You poor thing,
being in hospital so long."

"Yeah it was bad. Especially the amnesia. It was hard not remembering
Maria and the kids."

"But you remember now right?"

"Bits and pieces. Everyday I recall events or smells, little stuff.
Makes all the difference in the world though, when you have no past at
all."

"I can imagine." Courtney nodded sympathetically as she poured out the
coffee. Her fingered one of her silver earrings, allowing her hand to
fall lazily over her breast back to her side. Michael noticed. He
noticed everything. She noticed the way her whole body was leaning
toward him, how she licked her lips every few minutes and giggled
girlishly at everything he said. She was flirting with him but to be
honest he felt good. It was strange to wake up with a ready made family
and no idea how he got there. It didn't feel natural somehow. He cared
about his family but they tied him down, he couldn't go out and
experience things just for himself. It was a scary predicament to be
in.

Courtney talked for a while, reminding Michael of the ins and outs of
her life. Her husband George was away on a business trip to Prague,
leaving her with the two children. She claimed to miss him dreadfully,
although the foot she was running up Michael's calf didn't seem to.
Finally she sat up and announced he should probably be getting home.
Michael had been here for two hours.

"Well thanks for the chat Courtney, it's been nice meeting you again.
Maybe you and George could come over some evening for dinner".

"Um", Courtney paused, not quite sure what to say, "That's probably not
the best idea Michael, just for now. Maria and I don't always see eye
to eye and I would hate to make your recovery miserable. Maybe later
yeah?"

Michael frowned but agreed. Blindly he made his way home according to
Courtney's poor directions and when he got back he stopped by the
drive. The car was back. Maria was home. Quietly he opened the door and
set Rafe onto the carpet where he found a toy telephone and began
punching buttons. Maria was sitting on the couch, idly reading the
paper. She looked up when he entered and half smiled.

"Where were you? You were ages".

He scratched the back of his neck, wondering whether or not to tell his
wife where he had been. But, his head whispered, if it was perfectly
harmless there is nothing to be ashamed of. Is there?

"I was at Courtney's house". Maria froze, her whole body going rigid.
Her eyes rolled towards him, her face still.

"At who's house?"

"Courtney Banks", Michael replied, now wishing he hadn't told her, "She
introduced herself at the school and we went back to hers for coffee.
She seems really nice".

"Yes. You were always good friends' with her", Maria said delicately,
"But I wouldn't spend too much time round there. Her husband is the
jealous type." Michael could hear by the tone of her voice, that the
statement was loaded. But with what? What was it about Courtney Maria
didn't like?

The next night Maria announced she had a surprise for Michael. She
wouldn't say what it was, just that they were having guests. For this
occasion she wore a black satin pencil skirt and matching top with a
sparkly red cardigan over her shoulders. Her hair swept up into a
tously bunch, she looked divine. "You look totally gorgeous. The best
you've ever looked". She smiled, her ruby red lips spreading wide
across her face.

"Thank you. You old charmer." Without thought she kissed him, a
fleeting kiss which left a stinging imprint on his lips. The doorbell
rang. "Oh that'll be our guests and Michael. Don't go round to
Courtney's again. Not until we've sorted everything here. I can't
explain now, just trust me okay?"

He nodded his agreement without too much thought. Maria was his wife,
Romily and Rafe were his kids. They needed him first. Friends,
especially like Courtney, came second.

He heard her running to the door, greeting mane voices and ushering
them in. Michael paused, then grinned. Before him stood the Roswell
gang.

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Max smiled and walked over to where Michael stood, pulling him into a
warm embrace. "Michael. It's been too long". Returning his smile
Michael agreed.

"Yeah. Too long Maxwell. How are you?"

"Fine. Great actually. Liz has just been promoted at work". He jerked
his head towards his wife. Michael said his congratulations and hugged
her.

"You look stunning Liz", he said, admiring her pastel blue dress.

"Thank you Michael. You look great. So much better than I'd thought".
She laughed lightly and moved away to talk to Maria. Isabel was next.
Pulling her silver jacket around her she hugged Michael warmly.

"I've missed you, Michael. We've never spent more than weeks apart and
it seems like years since we spoke".

"It does. Seems like forever." Alex joined them, expressing his
happiness in seeing Michael look so well after such an accident.
Michael had yet to ask the details of his accident. He knew it was some
sort of traffic thing but it hadn't actually occurred to him to probe
for particulars. There had been too much going on.

Kyle shook his hand and slapped him on the back while a heavily
pregnant Tess hugged him as best she could. "It's such a bind carrying
this thing around with me. I feel like an elephant".

"That's what I have to listen to 24/7. Kyle rub my feet, Kyle take me
to the doctor. You'd think I was having this baby." Tess gasped and
slapped him on the arm. Kyle grinned in response and planted a kiss on
her head, laughing.

Together they sat down. Max pulled Liz onto his knee, her arms round
his neck, Alex and Isabel perched on the oversized floor cushions,
their fingers intertwined. Kyle helped Tess to sit down and then sat
next to her, resting her head on his chest. They all look so relaxed,
so idyllic. Michael sat down and wondered how Maria was going to chose
to sit. It seemed the etiquette was general intimate touching but would
she be prepared to touch him at all? Especially since he had been at
Courtney's house the previous day.

She surprised him however. Laughing at something Liz said she dropped
down next to him and pulled his arm around her, draping her legs over
his. It was so natural. As though the last months hadn't happened. He
responded kissing her fingers. She beamed and kissed his cheek quickly.
He could see the others glancing at each other, pleased. They obviously
weren't expecting this. To be honest neither was he.

The wine flowed freely throughout the evening. They talked little of
Michael's illness, only pausing over it to ascertain how much he could
remember. The rest of the night was spent reminiscing. Well Michael
didn't do much of that but he listened avidly as the group recounted
stories from their past. The night of the prom, the time they skipped
off to Vegas, each of the weddings. Isabel reminded Michael of the
excellent speech he had made at her wedding, written two minutes
beforehand. Max recalled how nervous Michael had been before the prom,
so nervous that he took dance lessons so he wouldn't make a fool of
himself. Maria smiled as she remembered their wedding night. Their
flight was delayed so they ended up spending their wedding night on a
plane. They got so desperate they started making out in the toilets,
getting caught by a stewardess.

The whole night was wrapped in an air of magic. Nobody judged Michael,
or expected anything more of him than he could give. It was at the
moment he realised these were his real friends. They loved him, they
wanted him. And although he could only remember bits and pieces of his
time with them, it didn't matter. They didn't want his memories. They
just wanted him as he was now.

It was late by the time the last two, Max and Liz left. Maria begged
them all to stay but each had various commitments mostly work which
meant they had to get home. When she'd shut the door for the final time
Maria came back into the living room and flopped next to Michael.

"Thank you", he whispered, "For doing this. It means so much to me to
have friends like those".

"Yeah well, you deserve them. You're a good friend Michael. You always
have been. That's why they came tonight, I certainly didn't have to
persuade them". She stopped smiling then, a frown crossing her
face.

"What's up?" he asked her, bending to meet her eyes.

"Well I was thinking. Maybe it's time.......time you moved back into
the bedroom. It's ours after all and tonight got me thinking that it's
been long enough apart. Only if you want to of course. I mean you don't
have to, I'd understand it's just..... You know what I'm just gonna be
quiet".

Pulling her close to him he kissed her hair. "I do want to move into
our bed. I'm happy you asked me". She nodded and pulled him up to
standing. Slowly she lead him to bed. They stood before each other,
eyes melting into each others. Without a word she began undressing him,
carefully pulling off his shirt and jeans. He waited until she had him
completely naked before allowing himself he pleasure of undressing her.
Soon there was nothing dividing them but bare skin. Coaxing Michael to
her, Maria kissed him, sliding his hands over her body. They fell onto
the bed and softly explored each other, reminding themselves of what it
was like to be like this.

Maria's head rocked back on her neck and he kissed her collarbone. This
was bliss, the most perfect experience of her life. How she had missed
the way he made love to her. And now he was back. She'd thought that
the Courtney thing might have driven a wedge between them but he hadn't
mentioned it since so maybe things would be okay. And how could he even
think about her when this was here for his taking? Michael couldn't
believe this had been here all along and he hadn't had it. It was cruel
to deprive him of such pleasures. Maria was built to perfection, each
curve and stretch of skin beautifully formed. She was a goddess, lying
on the bed, her eyes closed. God he wanted this to last for eternity.
Deftly he pulled her tight to him. So pretty, so perfect....

Running her hand over his chest Maria smiled. It was morning already
and she was exhausted. But in a good way- the best way. She rolled over
and watched him sleeping. His long lashes grazed his cheek, his mouth
pursed into a cupid's bow. He was angelic, like a cherub. She ran her
fingers through his hair and he opened his eyes. Placing his hands on
the curve of her hip he shuffled closer and put his mouth to hers,
curling his tongue round her own. He didn't mind the morning mouth. He
didn't mind that she hadn't showered. All he wanted was her. Maria
DeLuca in her natural state. Her most beautiful state.

He was just about to word all this to her when a loud clattering came
from behind the door and Romily stomped in, pulling behind her a bag
full of Barbies. Scrambling onto the bed, she began combing the hair of
a Barbie in a lilac dress, humming. Michael watched her. She was so
cute, the way her head cocked to one side as she hummed, the
concentration lining her pudgy face as she combed the hair, so
carefully. She didn't see anything wrong with Michael being in this
bed, as far as she was concerned it was natural. Normal.

She turned and crawled onto Michael's knee. Looking at him with bambi
eyes she said in a hushed voice, "Katherine is going to a party".

Michael grinned and winked at Maria. "Is she? Whose party?"

"Melissa's. And Paul will be there. He has chocolate for her". Feeling
warm inside Michael kissed the top of Romily's head and let her get
back to combing Katherine's hair. She had a hot date after all. Maria
rose and pulled on some clothes.

"I'll start breakfast". He went to get up but she gently pressed him
back. "Don't get up, I'll do it. Bring you breakfast in bed". He kissed
her fingers and she gathered Romily into her arms for dressing. He lay
back and studied the ceiling. What a perfect life. He, Michael Guerin,
was living a dream.

An hour later Maria returned from the school run and carried toast and
tea to him. They ate in each other's arms, silent. Maria brushed crumbs
off the duvet and smiled at him. He returned the smile. A thought had
just passed between them, a thought that said we are in paradise.

When they finally got up Maria headed to the kitchen where she pulled
out a red folder and began adding figures on a calculator. He came in
slipping his arms around her neck. Instantly she closed the file and
looked at him.

"You startled me".

"Sorry. What ya doin?"

"Nothing. Just working on the bills". He nodded and she went to make
the beds. 'Why the secrecy?' he thought to himself, 'What's she got to
hide?' Knowing he shouldn't, Michael flipped open the folder and read
down the figures. He didn't know much about money but he knew enough.
This wasn't good. He worked out what Maria was putting into the account
each month, what he wasn't and why the amount they had was nowhere near
what they could live on. How could they own this house, that car on
this?

He didn't hear her enter and she waited til he noticed her standing in
the doorway. She had been half hoping he would look, just to let him
know how things were.

"So. Found out our guilty secret have you? I'm glad."

He faced her, noticing for the first time how drawn she looked. "Why
didn't you tell me we were in this state?"

"What and ruin your homecoming? No way. You were just getting into the
way of things, it seemed stupid to worry you. Besides, we aren't doing
that badly". She smiled ruefully, knowing rightly that it was as bad as
it was going to get. He knew this and let it lie. She didn't need to
hear it.

"It's because I'm not painting isn't it? I'm not bringing any money
into the house".

She smiled that same tight smile, as though he was a young child who
just didn't understand the grown up world. "You think we got this way
in a few months? Not a chance. This has taken a long time coming
about".

He questioned her further. Why had it come about? What had caused it?
Overspending? "No not overspending, although the car was a bit of an
extravagance. It was more......"

"Something I've done obviously. Wasn't I working fast enough?"

She looked relieved and nodded. "Yeah. That was it. You seemed to lose
your focus a bit before the accident but now I'm sure you'll get it
back. I've seen you doodling on the telephone pad. You should get back
to painting. Why don't I lead the way?"

Puzzled Michael followed her out of the room and up the stairs. They
stopped beneath a trapdoor cut into the ceiling and Michael was
surprised to note he had never seen it before. Maria pushed the door
upward with a metal pole propped nearby and ladders dropped down,
almost braining Michael. She stepped aside and motioned him up.

Slowly, he stepped into the room. It was breathtaking. Not because it
was extravagantly decorated but because of it's simplicity. The walls
were sharply painted a bright white and light caused glare from windows
in all four walls. And they weren't just any old attic windows. They
were huge industrial sized panes, covering much of the wall. The floor
was a dark wood, shiny and sparkly. Blank canvases were propped against
the walls, waiting for him to put them to life and pots of pens and
brushes were haphazardly scattered around the various work benches. An
easel stood off centre, a half finished explosion of fiery colours
gripped on it, some tubes of paint littering the floor below and a
leather stool in front. It was as though he had just gone to get some
coffee.

Maria took a deep breath, drawing in the very faint smell of oils- that
rich leathery smell that hung around Michael. She could smell it even
now, even though he hadn't worked here for months. This had been his
favourite room, the place he came when he had a burst of thought or
whenever he was upset about something. In the weeks before the accident
he had been here a lot- locked away from her and their problems. He
came out only to eat. He had even begun to avoid spending time with the
children. Maria shook her head. But that was all over with now. He was
back, just about, and she didn't have to worry anymore. They were going
to be okay.

"Isn't it something?"

"It is", he admitted, running his hand over the soft bristles of a
discarded brush, "I didn't know this place existed".

"I wanted it to be a surprise. Once you'd got used to life here on
Walton mountain, then you'd be ready to get back to work. I knew once
you saw it you'd be inspired and I thought you needed to get better
first. Don't want you overexerting yourself." He nodded in agreement
and pulled the fireball canvas off the easel. He stared at it for a
long moment, as if trying to decide where he was coming from when he'd
done it.

"It looks nothing like the ones downstairs. It's quite angry don't you
think?" he asked, turning to show her.

Hurriedly she came over and took the canvas, replacing it with a fresh
one. "Like I said, you lost your direction a bit. But now you've found
it and you can start afresh. A whole new board to paint. Yeah?" She
tried to sound enthusiastic and was relieved when he conceded that she
was right. She placed the painting in a locker above her and shut it
away. Like banishing the last memory of a painful era. "So I guess I'll
leave you to it". She backed away to the trapdoor and gave a wistful
look over her shoulder as she stepped down. Michael, engrossed in
arranging his canvas just so, seemed unfazed by her departure. Maybe
things would be different now. He was a fresh canvas. All she needed to
do was bring him to life.

Michael stayed in his room all day, only surfacing to grab some coffee.
Maria left him to it, although inside she was dying to see what he was
doing. There was no doubt he was talented and she was certain whatever
he was drawing or painting would be quite brilliant but it wasn't the
quality she was interested in. It was what he was drawing. When they
were first married Michael like landscapes. They visited the coast and
country as much as possible, her lounging on a rug while he painted
their surroundings. He drew people too, happy, smiling figures; mothers
with children, elderly with dogs. In Michael's world the sun was always
shining. But then things changed. Their problems, developed, grew from
niggling worries to black nightmare monsters. Suddenly the clouds
settled over the sun. Permanent clouds. His work grew dark and empty,
signifying death and misery and hate. And when things got really bad he
stopped painting altogether. Then the accident and the rest was
history.

He finally came in the late afternoon, his face worn and tired. A
smudge of black paint scored his forehead and for a second Maria
thought 'Why would he be painting in black? Grinning mothers are not
black' but she banished the thought away. 'You are too paranoid DeLuca'
she mused. He dropped next to her and caressed her cheek with the
inside of his thumb.

"Sorry I left you. I just got into the swing of things and couldn't
stop".

"Don't be sorry. It's what you love. I wouldn't want you any place
else". He appreciated her saying this and kissed her fingertips.

"Soooooo", he purred in her ear, "What do you want to do?" She opened
her mouth in shock.

"Now that is something I recognise. The soft drawl in my ear of a man
who is looking for something a little more substantial than a kiss on
the nose". He grinned in reply and kissed her hard. She responded but
broke off after a minute, pressing her fingers against his wet mouth.
"We shouldn't. The kids are upstairs".

"Bur Rafe's asleep right?"

"Well yeah but..."

"And Romily is happily playing dollies upstairs right?"

"Um yeah.."

"Well then you have no excuse my dear", he kissed her again, pushing
the door shut with his foot. This time she didn't pull away. If
anything she pulled him closer, curling her legs round his as he lay
gently on top of her. His hands, hot and urgent, smoothed over her
skin. She whimpered as he pinched her skin between his teeth, ran his
tongue over her collarbone. Their clothes seemed to disappear without
her knowledge, her skin becoming moist with anticipation. He groaned
into her mouth, his tongue probing deeper and deeper, tickling the very
back of her throat. His skin slid over hers as he explored her body.
Her hair smelt like oranges and her skin, like lemons. His nose and
mouth was filled with her scent and he felt overpowered by it.

His boxers were last to come off, Maria coaxing them with her fingers.
Running her fingertip over the downy hair leading from his bellybutton
down, she sighed. When she was younger the idea of marriage had never
appealed to her. The
thought of sharing your life with one man was bad enough but sleeping
with the same man for the rest of your life was unbearable to her. How
could you not become bored? Half the excitement was finding out about
each other, how each body responds to different things. After seven
years of marriage there were no secrets left to unlock and boredom hit
home. But with Michael boredom had never hit home. The sexiest thing
about him was that Maria knew his body- it was familiar and safe. She
knew his little turn ons, his smell, the way he liked to be kissed on
his eyelashes. And he knew about her. Even though Michael couldn't
remember when they got married or what sort of wine she drank, he
seemed to know how she liked to be treated sexually. It was if he was
so accustomed to it that it was second nature. He didn't know it, but
he was making love to her the way she liked it.

When he pushed inside her, it sent ripples of ecstasy through her
veins. Every part tingled and burned with raw emotion. It was
overwhelming. They reached their peak together, both bodies shuddering
in the heat of the moment. His eyes locked with hers and never left
them until it was over. He kissed her lips softly, tasting her moist
mouth. She smiled into his kiss and buried her face in his shoulder.
They stayed like that for a moment, just being close. Suddenly a thud
came from upstairs and tiny feet pounded down the stair case. Shocked,
the naked couple began pulling on their clothes, zipping up jeans and
finding sweaters at the same time. When Romily finally toddled in they
were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, breathing hard and sweating
slightly.

"Mommy I can't find my car. I think Rafe has it".

"Well your brother's asleep honey. Can't you do without it until he
wakes up?"

"No! I want it NOW!" Romily's wails echoed through the house and Maria
had to jump of the couch and slap a hand firmly over her mouth to stop
her from waking the sleeping boy upstairs.

"RIGHT! Okay we'll go now. Just keep your voice down." Rolling her eyes
at Michael who grinned in response she manhandled the little girl out
of the room. Michael exhaled and sat back into the cushion. That had
been one of the wildest things he'd ever experienced- what a rush.
Maria was such a woman and that was such a thrill. He smiled to
himself, wondering if he could ever recover- so weak and trembly he
felt after all that. This is perfect, he mused, running a shaky hand
through his hair, and I am gonna do whatever it takes to hold on to it.
Little did Michael know, things were about to go spectacularly
wrong.

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The rusty green fork pierced the sodden earth as Michael drove it deep
underground. After four days of solid rainfall, this was the first
opportunity he had had to get out and do something about the jungle in
the backyard. Rafe was pottering about, digging up potplants and
collecting bits of broken pottery he'd found in the soil. Every once in
a while Michael picked him up and emptied his pockets. Rafe's latest
trick was collecting worms and then putting in his dungarees. "For
later" apparently. Michael thought this was hilarious but Maria had
made a special request that he cleaned out his pockets every so often,
because worms in the washing machine was not pretty.

Using his fingers, Michael pressed earth around a newly-planted shrub
and dusted the leaves off. Rafe was singing some non-descript song,
chanting about butterflies and bees or something, and his little
tuneful voice carried across the garden to his daddy, who smiled and
felt a rush of pride. He love being able to say 'That's my son' or
'Romily's my daughter'. There was something altogether satisfying about
fatherhood and he felt it suited him. Some men banged on about how
bachelorhood was the only way to go but Michael liked marriage and
fatherhood. They gave him a purpose in life.

"Hello Michael". A husky female voice brought him out of his daydream.
He whirled around and came face to face with Courtney Banks. Her blood
red Chanel suit was immaculately cut and the high suede court shoes she
wore gave her killer calves. Her hair was knotted at the back of her
head and was pinned so not a single hair was out of place. For a moment
he didn't know what to say. She seemed to relish his stupor and stood,
basking in it. Finally he found his tongue.

"Hello Courtney. This is a surprise".

She laughed and exposed her milky white teeth. "I was driving back
after an appointment and I thought wouldn't it be nice to pay Michael a
visit? And I can tell you really are shocked. So tell me. Good surprise
or bad surprise".

Michael considered saying bad surprise. There was something really
unsettling about Courtney Banks, something that wasn't quite right. But
maybe he was just overreacting, maybe he was imagining the whole thing.
Courtney wasn't a danger to him, she was his friend. "Good surprise of
course", he answered finally, causing her to smile again, "Shall we
have some coffee?"

He led her through to the kitchen and carried Rafe on his back. He
settled him into a chair but quickly realised all the exercise had made
his son sleepy. "Won't be a minute", he smiled apologetically and took
Rafe upstairs, putting him down for a nap. When he returned the kettle
was boiling and Courtney was selecting mugs. Opening the larder
cupboard she immediately reached to the third shelf, behind the
biscuits, where the coffee was and dumped two heaped spoonfuls into
each mug. Barely looking away from pouring the hot water, she opened
the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk, stirring some into each.
Finally she put everything away and set his cup down in front of him.
Michael frowned. There was something very wrong about this. How did
Courtney know where everything was? It had taken him a week to decipher
the kitchen layout and yet she had just swanned in and made coffee
without once looking to him for support.

She gave him another dazzling smile and sipped her coffee. "So how have
you been getting on? Finding life any easier?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it's getting better. I had my friends from Roswell up
the other night. It's been a while and it was good to see some friendly
faces".

For a second he thought he saw Courtney's smile fade and her lips
tighten, just little. But if he did then she recovered herself well.
"How lovely. Did you remember them?"

"Not really. There was something there, like a little spark but it
wasn't anything I could put my finger on. But I guess the important
thing is that I have people that care about me". She nodded slowly and
took another dainty sip.

"You do have people that care about you. Me for one". He didn't know
how to answer that so he kept quite and took a swig from his mug. "You
know I was awfully worried when I heard Michael, I couldn't stop
thinking about you. I thought about coming to the hospital but I
decided that probably wasn't the best thing to do. But that didn't stop
me worrying. Seems silly now, I mean you're all better now and I was at
the point of tears." She inched a little closer to him. "Can I ask you
something Michael? Promise you won't laugh?"

"Of course Courtney", he replied, clearing his throat, suddenly thick
and hoarse, "Ask me anything".

She rolled her eyes and put a coy little smile on her face. She
reminded Michael of a child about to do something naughty. "Well I was
just wondering... No never mind".

"NO go one", Michael pressed her, finding himself intrigued by the
obvious way she was playing him. She smiled in return and seeing his
interest she nodded.

"I was just wondering if you remembered anything about me. About
us".

"Us?" Michael felt dizzy.

"Yes", Courtney was inches from his face, her breath burning his lips,
"Do you remember us?" Michael shook his head very slowly, unsure of
what Courtney was up to. She smiled a little and brought herself as
close to him as possible without touching. "Well then", she breathed,
"Let me remind you". And then she was kissing him, hard. Her tongue
snaked between his lips and she stood, straddling his knees. For a
second Michael froze. What was he going to do? This woman was kissing
him, him, a married man with a child upstairs asleep. In the house he
shared with his wife- loving faithful Maria. Her face flashed into his
head and he was shocked to find he didn't want it there. Suddenly he
didn't want to think about his wife and his kids and his commitments.
He was a man who had walked straight into a family and right at this
moment he resented them. He had had no time to live and do everything
he wanted to do. And now that he was married there were things he may
never do again. Like go out all night and drink with his mates til he
was sick and then stumble home late the next morning. Or kiss another
woman. Up until now the only woman he had kissed was Maria and he had
thought that was all he wanted. But sitting here, Courtney's full, soft
lips pressed against his, he suddenly became aware of the fact that
maybe a wife and two kids didn't have to be his lot. This gorgeous,
sexy woman wanted him and, to his complete shock, he wanted her
too.

Suddenly his hands came to life and he was gripping her body to his
tightly. She smiled and deftly unbuttoned her jacket, letting Chanel
drop to the ground like it was op-shop. His T-shirt quickly joined the
jacket, as did her blouse. He ran his hands over her round, heavy
breasts- relishing how different her body was to his wife's. Maria was
slender and lean where Courtney was curvaceous and womanly. Courtney
kissed her way down his chest and unbuttoned his jeans. Michael closed
his eyes and blocked out Maria's face from his mind. For this moment he
was going to do exactly as he pleased- just for a second he wasn't
going to have to put someone else first. He made love to Courtney on
the kitchen table, a place where only a few days previously he had
nearly made love to Maria and every time a little voice screamed in his
ear that this was wrong, he shut it out. Because this time he would do
what he wanted.

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Courtney brushed hair out of her face and dressed swiftly. Making love
on a table wasn't ideal but she'd been away from Michael so long that
she didn't care where it happened, just as long as it did. Michael was
silent, pulling on his clothes, his face sullen and closed off. She
kissed his lips and, although he responded, she knew something was
amiss. Sitting next to him, she gazed into his eyes.

"Michael you don't remember me do you?" He hesitated before shaking his
head. She pursed her lips and sighed. "I guess I should have expected
it. I mean you don't remember your own wife and kids so why should you
remember me? But I guess I just thought, maybe, since I used to mean so
much to you..."

"When?" She looked up questioningly. "When did you mean so much to
me?"

Pulling her hair into a knot, Courtney began pinning it again. She
didn't exactly know how to tell him their story, it wasn't easy to
tell. How do you tell a man who had just found a new life what his old
one was like? What sort of person he was a long time ago? She finished
pinning and inhaled.

"I lived in Roswell Michael, with you and Maria and Max and Liz and
everyone else, but we weren't exactly friends back then and we aren't
exactly friends now. I had the most massive crush on you back then but
you and Maria were all loved up and I didn't figure in your little
world for two. I moved away after a few years and came here to live. I
married George and had Kellie and Sorcha. I never dreamed you'd come
back into my life. I remember when I saw you again, across a store. You
were shopping for Maria's birthday and looked just the same- all
mysterious and dark. I got those old butterflies I always get when
you're around. We got talking and made plans to see each other again.
Maria wasn't happy about it so we kept our plans a secret. You and
Maria had been having problems with your marriage. Rafe had just been
born and she didn't care about you anymore- she was so wrapped up in
the children. We saw more and more of each other and eventually it just
happened. You kissed me one night and from then on we became a secret
item. You saw me most days- George is away all the time for work so we
came back here. I gave you what she wouldn't, Michael. I saved you from
being neglected, from becoming second fiddle to those children. You
loved me. You were going to leave her. We were going to be a couple.
And then you had the accident and everything changed. She messed with
your mind- she has convinced you that you love her and you don't. She's
taken advantage of your amnesia. She's taken you away from me. It's me
you love. We belong together Michael Guerin".

Michael clenched his eyes shut and tried to remember how to breathe.
His chest felt tight, like Courtney had just flung a tonne weight on
it. All that he believed in was a lie. Everything he loved was wrong.
Before the accident he had been in love with Courtney, he was going to
leave Maria. But somehow things had changed. Had Maria really messed
with his head? Did she know he was going to leave her before the
accident and was using his amnesia to get him back? No, she wouldn't,
she couldn't. It wasn't right. Suddenly Michael felt someone pull the
mat from beneath his feet and the world spun. Nothing made sense
anymore, the carefully constructed place he lived in was tumbling down
around his ears. He needed to be on his own. If he was to have any
chance to sort this out then he had to concentrate.

"Courtney I need you to leave". She opened her mouth and protested but
he refused to listen. "Courtney just GO!" She nodded and stood up,
gathering her things together. But before she left she dropped
something onto the table. Then she was gone. Michael waited until her
heard the drum of her engine fade before he lifted it. A card. With her
number on it. He held it between his fingers, gazing at the lettering
until it didn't make sense anymore. What was he going to do? He had
three main choices. He could dump this card and forget Courtney Banks
ever existed. He could go on with his life and pretend that old part of
life had never happened. Or he could dump the card and chase after
Courtney, he could catch her if he was quick. He could do what he'd
always planned- run away from Maria and the kids and go with Courtney.
It would be exciting and probably more liberating than being a husband
and father. Or he could do neither or those things. He could keep the
card and wait, wait until something told him what to do. He could do
what he had done in his earlier life, keep both. Have a wife and
children but have Courtney too.

Slowly Michael pushed the card into his back pocket. He was not ready
to give up on his new found family but, equally, he was not prepared to
lose the excitement that Courtney had just thrown into his life. He
would cool his heels and wait. Maybe something would give him a sign.
Pushing away the treacherous feeling he felt bubbling around inside
him, Michael got up and went to check on Rafe.

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Dinner that night was strained. Maria knew the second she walked
through the door that something was wrong but she put on brave front
and pretended not to notice. Michael played dutiful daddy, spooning
food into Rafe's mouth and listening to Romily babble on about school.
He acted like nothing was amiss but all night he felt Maria's eyes on
him and it was with dread that he sat waiting for Maria to finish
putting Romily to bed. He heard her light step on the stair and turned
the tv volume up a bit louder. Anything to drown out his impending
doom.

Maria entered the room and dropped down beside Michael, opening a long
slender box covered in Chinese silk and pulling out her expensive
wireframe glasses. Perching them on her nose she frowned at the
crossword in the newspaper, silent. "At fault, six letters", she
muttered, suddenly breaking the silence.

Michael gulped. "Guilty". She nodded and filled it in.

"To cheat, seven letters".

"Deceive". Michael felt a very faint blush creeping up his neck, making
his skin feel very warm. Maria noticed it too as she pulled off her
glasses and looked at him.

"Are you okay Michael? You look hot".

"I'm fine. Did you finish the crossword?"

"Almost. A question. Nine letters." He frowned and shook his
head.

"Yeah that's a hard one. But I think it's "What's wrong?""

"That's ten letters."

"Close enough. So are you going to tell me? You've been acting like a
bear with a sore head all night."

"There's nothing wrong. I'm fine. Honestly." He attempted a smile but
it came out more like a grimace.

"This isn't like you", Maria said, idly stroking his forehead, "We
always tell each other everything". The guilt boiled up again as her
skin slid over his. Would she touch him like this if she knew that only
a few hours earlier he'd been making love with his former mistress? He
brushed her hand away and repeated his statement. She sighed and
touched his chin, bringing his head round to face hers. She looked into
his eyes, as if searching his very soul for answers. I wonder, Michael
thought, if she can see my guilt. If she can take one look into my eyes
and know what I was doing today. Apparently not, was his answer as she
put his lips on hers and kissed him softly, her fingers tracing a path
through his hair. He stiffened and she stopped. He couldn't do it. He
couldn't kiss his wife after what he'd done, it wasn't right.

Maria pulled away, hurt by his cold reception. "Michael what is it?
Please tell me." And for a moment Michael was prepared to tell her. The
look on her face, so trusting and safe made him feel that he could tell
her anything and she would forgive him. But it melted away as quickly
as it had come. He couldn't tell her, it would break her heart. She had
just got her husband back and if he told her it would take him away
from her. Michael convinced himself that was the reason he couldn't
tell Maria the truth. It was not, he thought firmly, because I don't
want to stop seeing Courtney.

"It isn't anything. I'm fine Maria, just fine".

"Then let's go to bed huh?"

He shook his head. The way he felt, sleeping with Maria was the last
thing on his mind. "That sports programme is coming on in a minute. I
want to watch it". He saw her face fall out of the corner of his eye
but he ignored it. He thought she might try to convince him again but
she didn't. She just whispered her goodnight and went to bed. Michael
waited until well after midnight before he went up, giving Maria ample
time to fall asleep. She was still when he went up and he huddled as
far from her as possible. Right now his head was all over the place and
he didn't need distractions from his thoughts. For the moment Maria
would have to go on the back burner.

If Michael had've been paying close attention, he would have realised
Maria was not asleep, nor was she anywhere near. He would have noticed
her eyes were red rimmed and her pillow was wet from her tears. If he
had've asked her what was wrong, he would have found out that she was
scared of his rejecting her, and if he had've pushed her more, he would
have found she was scared of history repeating itself. Maria knew the
signs, she was long used to them. The distance, the wariness, the
inability to hold conversation. She had missed them the first time
round but now they were like her old friends. Maria knew there was only
one person who could cause this sort of behaviour in Michael and her
name caused Maria's blood to run as cold as nuclear winter. Courtney.
Courtney was back.

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The next few days were passed in relative silence. Maria kept a stony
face, hiding her breaking heart and Michael spent most of his time in
the attic, painting. On the third day of silence he remembered
something. Opening the locker, he pulled out the fireball painting he
had found when Maria brought him up here for the first time. Suddenly
he understood why he had drawn such an angry, twisted sort of painting.
It was dated just four days before the date he had been told he was in
the accident. Just four small days before his life changed forever. It
was Old Michael who had drawn this, the Michael who was leaving his
wife and kids for a sultry blonde in designer labels, the Michael who
didn't love Maria anymore. But how could he be the same man? He liked
being a husband and father, he loved Maria and the children. Didn't he?
Nothing made sense anymore and Michael didn't know how he felt. Now
that Courtney had shimmied into the picture nothing was cut and dried
anymore. Loose ends kept appearing and he found he couldn't tie them
up.

Angrily, Michael threw the fireball painting to the ground and smiled
as it cracked in half. That was one way to vent his frustration.
Glancing at the half finished portrait he had been working on he
frowned. He couldn't finish this now, not yet, he was too angry.
Pulling it off the easel and replacing it with a fresh canvas, Michael
picked up his brush and dipped it into the watery black oil. Time for a
fresh approach.

In the room below, Maria cringed as she heard the canvas splitting.
Michael had holed himself up in there since daybreak and by the sounds
of it he was still brooding. For three days she had said nothing but
yes and no and to be truthful it was killing her. It was worst than
when Michael had been in the coma. At least then she could hope he was
unchanged, the same loving man she knew he was. But now there was no
hope of that. He was hostile and cold, refusing to look her in the eye.
There were times when, just for a second, she thought she saw him look
her way, gazing wistfully at her. But every time she tried to catch his
gaze he looked way and frowned.

Picking crumpled clothes off the floor, she began sorting through them.
Whites, colours, whites, card. Abruptly she stopped. A creamy coloured
business card had fallen out of the pocket of the jeans she was
holding. Michael's jeans. Maria's heart slammed against her ribs. It
was face down but she knew what was on it. Here was the proof she was
waiting for, hard fact that Courtney was back. All she had to do was
turn it over and prove it. But I can't, she thought, scrubbing away a
bitter tear as it stroked her cheek, once I pick that card up I'll have
no excuses to play happy families, everything will be just as it was
before. Inhaling deeply Maria scolded herself. She knew she had to look
at the card; if she didn't then she'd always wonder.

Slowly she bent to the floor and picked it off the carpet, still not
turning it over. This was it, moment of truth. She closed her eyes and
flipped the card over in her hands. Then she sighed and rolled her eyes
down to read the writing. "Courtney Banks 555-698773". The tears fell
quick and hard now, too fast for Maria to stop them. She felt her knees
give and only just managed to stumble to the bed before she collapsed.
Gripping the card between her fingers she covered her mouth and sobbed.
Well that was it. Proof positive Courtney was the reason Michael was
behaving the way he was. She had slimed her way back into his life, not
caring about the seven year marriage she was breaking up. Maria cried
and cried, not caring who heard her. The door swung open and for a
second she thought it was Michael. But little fingers curled round the
side of the door and Romily peeked round at her.

"Mommy? What's wrong Mommy?" She ran to Maria and put her little arms
round her neck. With a soft finger, she brushed the hot wet blonde hair
out of Maria's eyes and kissed her damp cheek. She didn't understand
why her Mommy was crying and she hadn't seen her cry since before her
Daddy came home. Mommy had cried a lot before Daddy went away, that
much she understood. But now everything was meant to be better. Mommy
wasn't meant to cry anymore, Daddy wasn't meant to hide away. Maria
scooped her little daughter into her lap and held her there, relishing
the heat from their bodies running into each other. She knew this was
killing Romily, who was understanding more and more each day. One day
she'd be all grown up and would know everything. Maria wondered where
they would all be in another ten years. Would Michael still be here? Or
would he have packed his bags and left with that slut? Only time would
tell.

"Mommy's not going to cry anymore okay baby?" Romily nodded and jumped
off Maria's knee.

"Can we go and play Barbies now Mommy?" Maria smiled and nodded. She
allowed herself just a tiny glance up the steps into the attic as they
passed to get to Romily's room. The radio started playing some slow
dreamy number and she heard Michael punch it over to crashing, guitar
music, it's beat making the floor thump. Bitterly she shook her head.
I've lost him again, her head whispered sorrowfully, I've lost him and
I this time I may never get him back".

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Maria decided it was time to get out of the house, on her own. Just get
her head together. She forced herself to go upstairs and ask Michael to
come down and take care of the kids while she was gone. His easel was
facing away from her but intuition told her it wasn't fluffy bunnies he
was painting. He looked round the easel, his eyes hollow and
emotionless.

"Where are you going?".

"Thought I'd get some shopping in. The mall is open late tonight", she
lied back, convinced he could tell, "If you want to go out you can
called the baby-sitter, her numbers on the pad."

Michael frowned. "That girl isn't fit to look after a sandwich let
alone two young children."

"Please yourself". Maria wasn't about to be drawn into an argument
about the incompetence of the baby-sitter. Michael was just getting
petty. "Is there anything you need from the mall?"

"I can get the groceries tomorrow. Stay with the kids".

"No it's okay. I don't mind".

"No really. I have stuff to finish up here. Stay home tonight and I'll
go tomorrow for you". He ducked back behind the easel and barked his
orders over the top of the canvas.

Maria gritted her teeth. "No Michael, I will go to the mall. If you
don't want to look after the kids then get Rachel over".

He stopped painting and stood up. "I didn't say I didn't want to watch
the kids, I said I was busy. You don't need to go to mall, you're just
stirring things up, trying to make me out to be the bad guy." Maria
couldn't believe what he had just said. Michael also seemed a bit
shocked as he froze for a second and clamped his mouth shut.

"Is that right Michael?" Maria fumed, furious that she could feel tears
forming and determined not to cry, "Well I don't know, maybe you are
the bad guy".

"What's that supposed to mean", Michael snapped, feeling his face go
red. What was she talking about? What did she know? Maria visibly
hesitated. She hadn't planned to bring this up, not so soon. What
happened to thinking everything out? Giving Michael room to think? Now
she had called him a bad guy she didn't have an option. She was licked,
and now it was time to tell him.

"I MEAN THIS!" She yanked the card out of her pocket and threw it at
him, hitting his chest. He put his hands up and caught it between his
finger and thumb, needing only a brief glance down to identify
it.

He took a moment to breathe and figure out how to answer. How could he
have been so foolish as to believe Maria wouldn't find out? She was his
wife, he should have known better than to hide something from her.
Well, he figured, now it's time to beg for forgiveness.

"This is none of your business". Hold on. What the hell had happened to
apologies? His head was yelling the words at him but his mouth wouldn't
co-operate. He could save his marriage, he had the power to stop
Maria's heart beating but a tiny little part of him was rebelling and,
although small, it was the part that was going to screw this whole
thing to kingdom come. "This isn't what you think. Don't jump to
conclusions Maria".

"Oh shouldn't I? I know she's told you about what things were like
before the accident, she's poisoned you against me. I knew she would.
But I hoped, just hoped, that this time would be different, that she'd
grow a heart and realise what she was doing was wrong. But no, she's
the same old bitch she ever was".

"Don't say that Maria. Courtney told me the facts, she reminded me of
how I felt before the accident, she was honest. You were never honest
with me Maria, you changed the past to suit yourself."

"I HAD TO!" she screamed, feeling her desperation hit its peak, "To
save our marriage I had to keep the past a secret. I never lied and I
never changed anything, I just didn't tell you."

Michael clenched his fists. He was angry. Angry at Maria for not
telling him the truth, angry at Courtney for screwing up his marriage
and angry at himself for being too weak to change things. "You should
have told me Maria, I needed the truth. You can't just delete the past,
pretend like it never happened. My past matters Maria, I have no
memories. Do you know what's it's like to wake up without knowing who
you are and what you've done? Do you? To have a family ready made and
have no control over your life? You should have loved me enough to tell
me the truth".

"Loved you enough?" Maria cried, incredulous, "Loved you enough? I
loved you so much it hurt. I loved you with every beat of my heart,
with all my breaths. I would die to make it okay for you. But you know
what, this time I'll give you what you want. You want the truth?" He
nodded slowly, unsure of what she was about to say. "Well here it is
buster". She slumped down against the wall and pulled her knees to her
chest.

"When we lived in Roswell, before we got married, Courtney tried to
split us up. She tried everything, she manipulated you and hurt you out
of spite. But you fought her off and you won. When she moved away and
we started a new life here I thought I would never have to see her
again. But one day you said you saw her in a store and you'd arranged
to meet for lunch. I begged you not to go cos I knew what she'd try to
do and you promised you'd break it off. But you went anyway, I know cos
I found the credit card receipt. But I let it go. I said to myself
'Michael's a big boy now, he won't cheat on me, he loves me". But you
started seeing more of her and one night we had a blazing row and I
confronted you. You said it was none of my business, that I was stupid
and worrying about nothing. You said my constant interfering was
pushing you even closer to Courtney".

"You walked out that night and I'm sure you went to her. After that
things went from bad to worse. You stayed up here all the time,
wouldn't come down if I was there. You disappeared late at night and
came home after I'd left for work. You wanna know why we're so poor
Michael? I'll tell you. When Courtney came back into your life and we
were fighting all the time, you stopped painting. Well, you stopped
painting anything good. No-one would buy your work, it was dark and
crude and your agent dumped you. We've been living off our savings and
we'll probably have to sell our house if things get any worse. But you
just carried on seeing her."

"The reason Rafe is quiet with you is that he doesn't know you. You
were never around long enough for him to recognise you as anything more
than a familiar stranger. I needed you and you ran to her. I didn't
think it could get much worse but I was wrong. One night you packed
your bags and said you were leaving. You'd had enough, you were going
to get Courtney and take the next plane out of here. I got down on my
hands and knees and begged you to stay but you laughed at me. You said
I was pathetic, how could you ever love a wench like me when Courtney
was so perfect, so everything I wasn't? You walked out and you didn't
look back. A few hours later I got a phonecall from a policeman who
said you'd been speeding and had gone over a cliff. I went to the
hospital and sat with you for days while you were lying there in that
coma and I prayed for a miracle."

"When you woke up with amnesia I thanked God. It was a sign, a chance
to let me right all the wrongs. I burnt all the dark paintings and I
unpacked your bags. I thought, maybe this time things would go right,
maybe it was a second chance. I tried so hard to make everything okay
and I thought you loved me. Those times we made love, I can't remember
the last time it felt so right just to be with you. Courtney took you
from me, she stole you. She's vapid Michael, a nasty little virus
that's killing our marriage. And I won't let her take you away from me.
I love you too much for that".

Maria finished her story and burst into tears, covering her face with
her hands. Michael stood speechless, hardly daring to breathe. All that
Maria had said was spinning in his head- Courtney was vapid, she had
ruined their marriage, she had stopped Michael painting, Maria loved
him too much. For a second, time seemed to stand still as he thought
about what to do. Without a word he walked out of the room and down the
stairs, collecting the car keys from the table. He needed to drive, get
out and stretch his mind. Clear his head. Upstairs Maria heard the
faint rumbling of the engine speeding off into the night and she wiped
her eyes. This was the test. Will he come back?

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He didn't know how long he drove but he wasn't surprised to find
himself parked outside Courtney's house. The lights were on but there
was only on car in the drive meaning George was still in Prague. He
rang the bell and it took her only seconds to answer. She smiled warmly
at him and led him into the lounge where she poured him some Scotch.
She seemed to instinctively know he had been arguing with Maria,
Michael guessed he must have come to her like this many times before.
He swallowed the Scotch in four swigs and she instantly refilled his
glass.

"Feel better?" she asked as he polished off his second glass.

"Yeah much". She smiled and took his glass from him, setting on the
glass-top table at their feet.

"I knew you'd come".

"Did you?"

"Oh yes. I knew you'd realise we belonged together and that you'd come
back to me." She kissed him on the cheek, then on the nose and then on
the mouth, softly, taking her time. He kissed her back, tasting mint
from her toothpaste. The Scotch sloshed warmly inside him, making him
feel like he was glowing from the inside. This was good, this was
right.

Suddenly he stopped. Maria's face appeared in his head. I love you too
much. I love you too much. I love you too much. Over and over the words
played, faster and faster. Maria loved him too much. She loved him too
much. Too much. He pulled back from Courtney and regarded her. Her eyes
opened wide in confusion.

"Do you love me Courtney?" She looked surprised and then uneasy.

"Of course I love you Michael, what a silly question".

"And if I said I wanted to leave tonight, to run away and not come back
would you go?"

She disentangled herself from his grasp and stood up, raking her
fingers through her hair. "Leave now? That's crazy. You're crazy
Michael".

He stood next to her and took her hands in his. "No it's not. Maria
told me, that night I had the accident I was leaving her, I was coming
for you". Courtney's face paled.

"You...you never told me that. You never said you were coming for me".
She backed away from him and turned away. Suddenly everything became
clear to Michael and for the first time he saw what Courtney was up
to.

"You were never going to leave George were you Courtney? He was too
good a mealticket." She didn't look up. "Oh it was okay for me to leave
Maria because then I'd be relying on you but you? Running away from
money and material things to live with a poor artist without a penny to
his name? Never."

Courtney suddenly came to life. "I couldn't leave George Michael, I
thought you knew that. He has the best lawyers in town, I wouldn't get
a penny from him. How could I leave my girls? Run away for love? Its
crazy". She tried to touch his cheek but he slapped her hand
away.

"You screwed everything Courtney. You made me mess everything up with
Maria, the only one who ever loved me. I have a wife and kids and they
care more about me than you ever have and I was just too stupid to see
it." He began to leave, stalking away from her. He made it to the front
door before she caught him.

"NO! Michael you can't leave me! I love you, I need you. PLEASE!" He
shook her off and looked into her desperate, wild eyes.

"I don't care Courtney", he articulated into her face, "I don't care
that you love me because I don't love you. I hate you. You're a nasty,
horrible person Courtney and I hate you". With that he stormed out into
the night. Courtney watched him leave, screaming after him to come back
but he didn't listen. Right now he had to get back to Maria. Before it
was too late.

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He found her lying on the couch asleep. Her strawberry red lips were
parted ever so slightly and her hair was crushed around her face. He
watched her for a second, breathing shallowly, her chest rising and
falling rhymatically. She was so beautiful, lying there all curled up.
Like his very own baby doll. How could he have ever considered leaving
this? Why did he even try?

Silently he reached forward and kissed her lips. Slowly her eyes opened
and looked up at him, fear and relief swirled together on her face. She
was so happy he was back and so scared he'd go away again. She sat up
and pressed her lips together, as though trying to decide what to say.
When a few more moments of silence passed, Michael knelt in front of
her and took her cold, trembling hands in his.

"I'm sorry Maria. I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry I broke your heart and
I'm sorry I thought I could live without you. You and Romily and Rafe
are the best parts of me. You make me feel special, without you I'm
incomplete. I was stupid to think I about leaving you. I couldn't never
live without you. Cos I love you Maria. There I said it. I love you so
much, I can't think about anything else. Stay with me forever."

For a second he thought she was going to cry but she didn't. She held
back her tears and replaced them with a sunny smile. "I love you too",
she whispered softly, "And I don't care that you can't remember if I
like red or white wine or how I take my coffee. Because you remember
how to love me, and that's enough".

Giggling, she jumped into his arms. He twirled her around, round and
round til they both felt sick and collapsed on the couch, laughing like
kids. He caught her eye and held it, feeling like he could stay here
forever. Reaching forward he kissed her and it was the most wonderful
kiss of their entire relationship. Just at that moment a sleepy Romily
barged through the door with Katherine in her favourite lilac dress and
an even sleepier Rafe in tow. She scrambled up onto Michael's knee and
kissed his cheek, cupping his face in her hands. Then she moved onto
Maria. Rafe stared shyly at Michael before deciding Romily had the
right idea. Taking his time, he pulled himself up and leant against
Michael's chest, breathing hard. Smiling at his son's sudden burst of
emotion, Michael pulled Rafe into a big bear hug.

"I love you daddy", he whispered, his sky blue eyes staring into
Michael's chocolate brown ones.

"I love you too Rafe" Rafe's face broke into that same sunny Maria
smile and he kissed Michael's nose, which started everyone laughing.
That night, lying there, all four of the in the same bed, Michael
looked at his little family with contentment. This was just as it
should be. Something suddenly dawned on him as he curled his arms
protectively round his wife and children. He wasn't the same man as he
used to be and it had taken him this long to figure it out. All this
time he'd been trying to be the old Michael, when he should have been
focusing on becoming new. He didn't want Courtney, it felt like
somebody else who had done all those things. This man loved Maria, this
man loved Romily and Rafe. And this man was going to stay with
them.