Lila

Chris was well over an hour, and Lila almost left without him, but she remembered the way he'd visibly relaxed when she said she'd let him take her. Something was going on. And she suspected if she didn't wait for him, she'd find out the hard way. So, she sat in her office and seethed, her fingers tapping, her leg jiggling, as the other staff slowly left, and her tension wound tighter and tight.

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Then, when Chris finally buzzed her to let her know the car was climbing up to the drop off/pick up area, and she could come down, she almost fell out of the chair in her haste and frustration.

Her temper was soothed only slightly by the fact that he'd already picked up Chinese and the car smelled divine.

"I know, I know!" he said as soon as she opened the door and he caught sight of her face. "I'm sorry, that took a lot longer than I expected. But it's done now. I'll get you home and we'll eat, then I'll leave you alone, okay?" He gave her a hopeful smile and tapped the bag of food that he knew she was hungry for.

She grumbled as she climbed in and settled her laptop and bag, but in truth, she was too tired to really put effort into making him pay. And they couldn't talk about Dane with the driver in the car, so she was reduced to sitting there, staring out of the window, smelling her delicious dinner for several minutes until they got to the Penthouse.

She didn't wait for the driver or Chris, she shoved the door open as soon as the car stopped at the curb, and Chris barely made it through the door with her into the stairwell.

"Lila, wait up."

"I need to get out of these clothes and just… I need to get comfortable, Chris," she said, wincing. Her ribs were healing well, but they were always more sore at the end of the day, and wearing a bra was a killer. She trotted as fast as she could up the stairs with Chris on her heels, and let him sign them in while she went straight to the Penthouse and beelined for the bedroom where she changed.

But, she was feeling tense and stressed and sore. She didn't have her cat—and she'd been avoiding the question because she feared she knew the answer, and now that she thought of it, she didn't have her favorite snuggle sweater, either.

Growling her frustration, she took off her tops and bra and threw on a thick sweatshirt that wouldn't be too obvious. Sighing with relief when her ribs were released.

By the time she got out to the kitchen, Chris had set up all the little boxes on the island and pulled out a bottle of wine and plates.

She took a stutter-step because for just a second when he looked up and smiled, then went back to pouring the wine… it was like a date. A date she didn't want to be on. But then she shook her head. He knew the truth. Dane was back. He was taking care of her because Dane had told him to, and he felt bad for making her wait. But she was going to keep a close eye on him anyway.

"Thank you," she said as she pulled up the stool on the other side of the island, and took a sip of the red wine. "Oh, that's delicious," she sighed.

"One of my favorites. I found it in—"

"Chris, where's my cat?" she asked with more bite in her tone than she'd intended.

He hesitated, then put his wineglass down really slowly. When he looked up at her, it was with concern in his eyes. "I don't know," he said. "We don't know if a staff member let him out, or if… something happened to him. He wasn't here a day or two after you were taken and… that's all I know."

"You lied to me."

"After all you'd been through I didn't want to make you sad. And I was half-hoping he might turn up."

She shook her head and swallowed back tears. She wasn't surprised, but it was still a blow to have it confirmed.

They both started to eat, though the shine was taken off the meal for Lila. But she got enough food down that she wouldn't be hungry later. Then she was exhausted. She wanted to lay on the couch and watch something stupid, then go to sleep. But she wanted to do it alone.

"I'm going to go to bed. Can you tell security to lock down please?"

"Yeah, sure," Chris said, his voice sad. "I really am sorry, Lila."

"I know. We're all sorry, about a lot of stuff," she said, spearing the last of her noodles, then picking up the plate and fork and heading around the island, to the sink. "Thank you for bringing dinner. It was a good idea. I didn't feel like cooking anything."

Then she stopped walking as she was suddenly stuck with the image of Dane standing over the stove top, pulling something out of the fridge next to him, and smiling at her over his shoulder, his hair falling into his eyes.

Her stomach twisted and her eyes pinched and she was so damn sick of feeling sad!

Thankfully, her back was to Chris and he didn't notice her hesitation. She got the dishes cleared with his help, then almost chased him out of the door.

"Let me pick you up in the morning please," he said with a look. "He wants me certain where you are at all times."

She waved him off, "Whatever. If you're ready for eight, we'll go together. But I'm leaving in the car at eight."

"I'll be here."

They farewelled then she turned back to the Penthouse and sighed.

******

She'd tried to get comfortable on the couch. She'd gotten one of the throw blankets from the basket next to the television. She'd even put on a thick pair of socks that were old and soft. But she couldn't get that comfortable, bundled feeling. She needed her sweater, and she had a really bad feeling that she knew exactly where it was.

The last time she remembered wearing it was those days in the apartment. Dane had packed it for her because he'd known it was her favorite thing to lay around in.

She sat up on the couch and turned to look down the long apartment, to the fireplace alcove at the end. Could she do it? Could she go over there by herself? It wasn't dark yet, not really. But the apartment was always dark because there were no windows.

She wouldn't need to stay in there. She could just open it up, turn the lights on, go to the bedroom and look for the sweater, then leave. She didn't have to stay and get lost in memories. She didn't have to think about the smell of the place.

She could just get her things and go. Right?

A few minutes later, still staring down the broad Penthouse, she cursed herself for a fool. There was no one out there. And she didn't have to stay. It was only going to get darker.

She was so determined, she didn't even go back to the closet for shoes. She only had to run across the land bridge, anyway. She stayed in her thick socks, grabbed the key from its hiding place in the kitchen junk drawer, then trotted to the fireplace and opened it without letting herself see the memories of Dane carrying her down here, or leading her through, the smile of anticipation on his face.

There was a little yellow slip of caution tape still stuck to the wall on the inside where someone had obviously yanked it to clean it off, but the plastic strip had broken instead of the tape on the wall. She tore it off and crumpled it up as she walked down the stairs. She would throw it in the trash in the apartment just to show herself how practical she could be.

She was down the stairs and across the land bridge in a quick minute, the key ready, bracing herself, reminding herself, this was just a quick walk through.

She opened the door and was immediately hit by the smell of him—even stronger, it seemed, than the day she'd walked in here when the door had been open.

Mentally talking herself down, she shook it off and breathed through her mouth, turning to find the multiple light switches next to the door. Even though it was still dusk outside, the room was near black. She flipped them on, closed the door, locked it, and stood there looking at it for a second, not turning to see the space behind her.

"You will just go to the bedroom. You don't have look at anything. You can just find the sweater, and leave. It might not even be here! It might be a wasted trip, and that's okay. You can do this."

She turned, nodding to herself, and was halfway across the dining area when she heard the weight of a step in the hallway and she stopped, sucking in a huge breath, scrambling back towards the door and readying a scream, when the most delicious voice in the whole world gasped, "Lila?" and she stopped dead.

It couldn't be.

He couldn't be.

She turned slowly, heart pounding, to find the impossible.

Dane stood in the space where the hallway opened into the living room, his head just inches from the ceiling, his eyes wide, and mouth agape.

"Lila?" he breathed, swallowing fear and swallowing hope. "Is this real?"