Title: Forgiving the Past (lordy, do I suck with titles)
Author: Bree (virtualjag@yahoo.com)
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, just takin' 'em out for a spin
Archive: Please don't. I don't like the idea of my work still being out there years from now.
Spoilers: For my virtual season episode Circling, sort of.
Notes: This story coincides with my virtual season episode. Herein, you will find out why Diana Cleveland has Harm bothered (not hot and bothered).
This is written in Diana and Harm's POV.
Can cause drowsiness. Do not operate heavy machinery.
Uuummm, there are some crass statements made in this story. No real swearing or anything just less than flattering ways of saying some stuff.

Note about the collage: The woman in the picture is Diana (well, actually, she's Fleming of Fleming & John fame, but she's just so gosh darn pretty and she's a red head like I wrote Diana to be).

Friday
JAG HQ
1100

I take a deep breath as I clip on the visitor's badge. Maybe someone here can help me. I step onto the elevator and straighten my skirt. This is not going to be easy.

Stepping off the elevator I look around for the most official looking person I see. I quickly choose a commander who is handing paper after paper to a young petty officer. I stride purposefully across the office.

"Excuse me."

He just holds up his hand to indicate he'll be with me in a moment. He finishes talking to the younger man and turns to me.

"May I help you?"

"Maybe. I'm looking for a lawyer." He's tall and I have to look up to look him straight in the eye. He smiles a bit.

"Well, you're in luck. I just happen to be a lawyer."

I just stare at him. I stare directly into his blue eyes. It's how I make decisions about people. He stares back, but shifts his weight from foot to foot. Glancing at his nametag I finally speak.

"Well, Commander Rabb, I think you'll do." That small smile pulls at the corners of his mouth again.

"Then follow me, Ms..." We both realize I haven't introduced myself.

"Cleveland. Diana Cleveland." Bond, James Bond, I think. "But you can call me double-O seven," I laugh, "Lead on, Commander."

"I just need to stop and double check an appointment." I follow him to a door along the front of the office. He opens the door and steps just inside. I can't see around him.

"Commander, do you not know how to knock?" The force of the question is nearly enough to knock a person down.

I hear him answer, "No, ma'am. I was raised in a barn." I manage not to laugh out loud. Her answers are muffled. He confirms the meeting they have later in the day. He backs out and leads me to an office several doors down.

Being a gentleman he opens the door for me. I take a seat in the chair that doesn't have a stack of papers and folders in it. With a quick glance, I take in his office. His window looks out over a bricked patio and part of the parking lot. Not exactly the view I would expect a full commander would have. He seems like the corner office type. There's a scale model biplane on the file cabinet next to a flight helmet with the word "HAMMER" stenciled on it. There are no photographs anywhere. Usually men, even military ones, have at least one picture of the family around somewhere. The only disorganized space is the chair next to me.

*****

I take a good look at the woman sitting across the desk from me. She keeps pushing her hair behind her ears. I watch her look around. I busy myself with putting away some files, giving her a chance to find what she's looking for. I noticed the way she found something in me that she had been looking for in a lawyer. It's not everyday a civilian shows up and needs a lawyer.

"Well, Ms. Cleveland, why exactly do you need a lawyer?" She pushes her hair again and stares at the edge of my desk.

"I want a divorce, Commander."

Great, she wants me to be a divorce lawyer. I hate handling divorces; they always manage to turn into a big mess. I sit here, complaining to myself, so long I don't realize she's looking right at me waiting for me to say something.

"Okay. But why did you come here instead of finding a lawyer in private practice?" Maybe I can get myself out of this yet.

"I've spent the last eight years of my life as a Navy wife so when I think lawyers, I think JAG. You're probably right. I should go find another lawyer." I see the uncertainty that she tries to cover up. She moves to rise from her seat and I, being a sucker, stop her.

"No, Ms. Cleveland, you were right to come here. JAG lawyers are here to serve military personnel and their families. Tell me why you want out."

"Irreconcilable differences?" Somehow she is still able to joke.

"No, the real reasons." She studies her skirt and brushes at invisible lint.

She sighs, "Okay."

We sit listening to the noise in the outer office for some time before she finally speaks again.

"It's not what I thought it would be." We wait some more.

"Is marriage ever what anyone thought it would be?" I ask.

"No, I mean I thought it would last forever. I thought I would be the last woman he loved. The last one he wanted in his bed every night."

I don't want to ask, but I have to. "An affair?"

She nods. There are no tears just defeat.

"Are you sure?"

She laughs a bitter laugh. "He tells me the same stories he told his wife when he and I got involved."

I don't say anything. I'm taken aback. I always am when someone admits to an affair. Of course I'm guilty of the same thing.

She's talking again, "I should have known that if he would cheat on her he would cheat on me. How stupid can one person be?"

"I wouldn't call it stupidity. We all do things that we never imagined ourselves doing because we think we're in love. Maybe we are in love. Not with the person but with the ideal we think that person is."

*****

His voice dropped a notch with his speech about love and imagination. At least I found a lawyer who wasn't going to condemn me like my family had when they found out about Greg. My affair was my silent rebellion against the feeling that I needed to be perfect. The perfect daughter, the perfect sister, the perfect friend, the one who always had it all together. I needed to shatter all that perfection.

"All I wanted was the knight in shining armor."

"Instead you got a sailor in dress whites."

"Seemed just as good at the time."

He smiled a wide grin that time. Geez, I bet that's a lethal smile when used in the right situation. I hear the doorknob turn. I glance at my watch and realize I've been here for nearly two hours. A woman in a Marine uniform walks in reading the papers in her hand. She apologizes quickly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Apparently I was raised in the same barn as Commander Rabb."

I pull myself out of my chair, "Not a problem. I was just on my way out."

His voice stops me, "It's going to be alright Diana."

"Thanks."

I leave his office and make my way through the outer office toward the elevator. I can feel several pairs of eyes following me but when I turn to look back everyone is busily working. This is an office where everyone knows everyone else's business. I can't come back here. He might find out. Others see an easy going, polite Navy officer when they meet Greg. I see the liar, the manipulative man who knows how to say all the right things at all the right times. He does it to get what he wants not to give you what you need.

Exiting the building, I walk quickly, head down, to my car. The chances of anyone here recognizing me are slim to none but Greg doesn't know I didn't go into work today. I'm going to stop by the school and check on my class. At least then I can truthfully tell him how the kids were today. I've never been able to lie to him. He's always lied to me with the ease of trained professional.

*****
North of Union Station
1830

I shut the door behind and me lean against it. Diana seems like such a wonderful person, how can her husband go to another woman? I need to call and get her husband's name. I got ready to request his service record only to realize I had no clue what his name was and a quick name search revealed hundreds of Clevelands. I wonder if he realizes what she's planning? Or maybe she's just trying to beat him to the punch? There are so many questions I have that I never asked during our conversation. It seemed important to her just to admit that she wanted out and why. She paced the conversation I just followed and tried to point her in the direction that would help me the most.

I sit down at my desk and pull out the Post-It note with her phone number on it. There are several rings before it's picked up.

"Hello?" A distinctly male voice answers. I nearly panic. I hadn't planned on what to say if her husband answered. "Hello?" he repeats. I clear my throat.

"May I speak to Ms. Cleveland?"

"She's not home yet. May I take a message?" He doesn't sound suspicious and I don't want to raise any questions with him.

"No, that's alright. I try again later." As I hang up the phone I'm overcome with a drowning feeling. I've jumped in the deep end and I've forgotten how to swim. I jump as the phone, which I still have my hand on, rings.

"Hello?"

"Hey baby."

I sigh a little, "Hi, Renee."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Then why the sigh? Disappointed to hear my voice."

"I've just had one of those days."

"Sorry to hear that. Unfortunately mine was less than pleasant also. That's why I'm calling. I'm not going to be able to make it to dinner tonight. We've been behind since the word go. A hazard of working with people who think because vodka is clear it's as good for you as water. I'm sorry to cancel on such short notice."

"It's just as well. I don't have much of an appetite at the moment. Actually I think I need to go to the grocery store if I want to eat something besides ramen noodles."

"Then go to the grocery store. Relax. Walk down the aisles slowly rather than that speed walker pace you normally shop at."

"I'll try. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay. "

"What was that?"

"What?"

"It sounded like glass breaking." I hear her put her hand over the mouthpiece and yell something.

"That would be my lead singer falling through the set window. I've gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

"I'll talk to you later." But I've spoken to no one. She hung up before I got a chance to say anything else. I pull a piece of paper out of the desk drawer and start making a list. I might as well go grocery shopping because I'm not going to get anything else done.

*****
Cleveland-Cooper Residence
Alexandria, VA
1900

He's already home. Damn, I was hoping he would be "working late" or actually working late. I'm better as the offensive player in this marriage. I've never gotten the defense down. I gather up a load of papers and hope that he doesn't notice that all but the one on top are graded. I open the door leading into the house and find him standing in front of the washing machine pouring detergent and bleach in.

He glances at me, "Hey. Dinner's in the microwave."

Oh, lord, he's doing laundry and cooking dinner. Something can't be right.

"Thanks," I say. I go drop my papers on the desk in the spare bedroom and go back to the kitchen. Opening the microwave I see what he means by "dinner." He ordered a pizza.

"Long day?"

"Yeah, tomorrow is Open House so I wanted to get most everything done so that the kids would only have to help me clean the desks and board." I pull a glass out and fix myself a Coke. I take my plate and drink and sit down at the table. He sits down across from me. He seems to be waiting for me to tell him something he already knows. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't guess. Some guy called earlier but he didn't want to leave a message." He waits for me to spill my guts. I continue eating. He keeps waiting.

"What do you want me to tell you? If he didn't leave a message I don't have a clue who he his. He was probably just a parent. I sent some notes home last week." Finally he loses that anticipatory air and leaves me to eat in peace. I'm polishing off the last of the pizza when he reappears.

"I'm leaving for Pensacola later tonight." He turns to leave.

"Why?" I don't know what possessed me to ask. Usually I just nod and go on with my life.

"Why what?"

"Why are they sending you to Pensacola?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Why don't you answer?" This is where I excel, cornering him and verbally beating the answers out of him.

"It's just that you don't normally ask about my work anymore. Just to satisfy your curiosity I'll tell you. They're sending me to inspect some of the housing down there and decide how much remodeling if any needs to be done."

"Who's going with you?"

"Lt. Mullins."

"The blonde? She must be a good ride if you're willing to take her down there and risk being caught." He just stares at me. His green eyes harden into jewel-grade emeralds. He's not going to deny anything.

"She's a better ride than you'll ever be." He leaves the room and climbs the stairs to pack.

"I'll be gone when you get back," I yell at him. He says something but I can't make it out. I'm sure they're not exactly loving words. I listen to him moving around upstairs. He's talking. It doesn't sound like he's talking to himself so I pick up the phone.

"You worry too much," his distant voice says.

"Well, one of us has to. I don't want you to get in trouble." The voice sounds vaguely familiar. Apparently Lt. Mullins has been presumptuous enough to call here before.

"Stop worrying, Dana, and finish packing. I'm not going to get in trouble. And neither are you." That definitely sounded like an afterthought. She could be unceremoniously booted out of the Navy and he would just stand by and watch it happen.

"You mentioned Diana. Is she alright?"

"She's fine." Oh, I'm fine. I must have been out of the room when I suddenly became fine.

"I don't want to hurt her, Greg. That time I met her she was so nice. Asking me how I was adjusting to D.C. and telling me the places I should visit before I got transferred." I remember meeting Dana Mullins. She's about 24; the same age I was when I met Greg. She had been transferred here from somewhere overseas and it was her first time in Washington. I had offered to show her the lay of the land. Not how get laid by my husband. She had obviously misunderstood what I was offering. I quietly hang up the phone before she begins whining again about getting caught.

I wander into the spare room and grade the last paper. Half an hour later I hear Greg go out the door to the garage and I hear his Jeep roar to life. He's left for the week and I'm about to be leaving forever.

Monday
JAG HQ
0830

"Sir, a Ms. Cleveland has called three times already this morning. She asked that you call as soon as you arrived."

"Thanks, Gunny." I take the slips of paper the gunnery sergeant is holding out and head for my office. I shut the office door. Picking up the phone I dial the number to the elementary school where Diana teaches fourth grade. The phone rings several times before someone answers.

"St. Francis' Elementary."

"I would like to speak to Ms. Cleveland."

"Hold please."

A few moments later Diana's voice comes across the line, "Hello?"

"Diana, this is Harmon Rabb."

"Oh, Commander Rabb, thank you so much for returning my call. I wanted to make an appointment to see you as soon as possible. Greg is in Pensacola this week and I'd like to get as much as possible done before he gets back." I consult my desk calendar.

"I can see you as soon as you get out of school today if you want."

"Great. But can we meet somewhere besides your office? I'm afraid someone might recognize me. I know, it's not likely but still..."

"That's fine." She gives me the location of a small café-type place on Connecticut.

****

I see Mac come out of the admiral's office. She's headed straight for me. I quickly throw the last files in my briefcase and grab my jacket off the hook. I'm not fast enough and she's standing in my door.

"Only working half a day, Rabb?"

"I've got a client meeting." I slide my arms into the jacket sleeves.

"I didn't think you had anyone in the brig."

"I don't." With that I push past her and head for the elevator. As I step on the elevator and turn to press the button for the first floor I catch a glimpse of Mac's face. She looks lost. She's trying to figure out why I'm not telling her and why I'm being rude about it. If I were to tell she would want to give me advice. I can't take any advice right now.

*****
North of Union Station
1815

"Where have you been?" The voice comes from my couch.

Damn, I forgot to call her. And I suddenly realize I didn't see her all weekend.

"I had to meet with a client, Renee."

"Where?"

"What is this? The Spanish Inquisition?"

"Well, you know what the Monty Python boys always say. I called the office about an hour ago and you weren't there. I was beginning to worry and then I remembered that Colonel Mackenzie and her Australian had called it quits."

"If you want to make accusations just do it. Don't beat around the bush."

I barely hear her mumble, "You're the one beating bushes."

I ignore that one. I'm not sure what has happened here. The other day everything was fine. Today it's exploding in my face. This can't be about me forgetting to call her. I'm constantly screwing up like that with her. I settle myself in at the desk and take in the rather despondent picture she paints on my white sofa.

"What's wrong, Renee? This can't just be about my forgetfulness."

"I guess I just didn't expect this day to come so soon."

I'm completely lost. Let's go for the joke.

"What day? Monday?" I chuckle and smirk hoping to make her do the same. No dice.

"The day you and the mousy colonel got together."

"What makes you think we're together?"

"When I called the office and you weren't there and Tiner couldn't tell me where you were I asked to speak to the colonel. I thought that maybe she might have some idea of where you were and when you'd be back. Imagine my surprise when I'm told that Colonel Mackenzie left right after you did and no one knows where she went either. So where did you two go? Her place?"

"Renee, you have to believe me. I had a client meeting."

"With who?"

"I can't tell you."

"Oh please, Harm, the 'who' of a case is not part of client-attorney confidentiality. I may not know much about the law but I do know that."

"I can't tell you because my client is afraid."

I hear a deep sigh and she sinks further into the cushions. "I don't want to do this anymore. I don't have the strength."

I just sit here. I stare at her staring out the window in the deepening twilight. I'm not sure I have the strength anymore either.

*****
Cleveland-Cooper Residence
1815

What do I take with me? Do I take the quilt that Greg's grandmother made for me the first Christmas we were married? Do I take my shelves and shelves of books now or later? Should I take the furniture that I want? Or maybe all I'm supposed to take is my clothing. Of course all that depends on where I end up living.

Harm and I discussed where I was going to go when we met today. My family might give me a place but I'm not betting on it. He encouraged me to at least try. I pick up the phone and dial my parent's number.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mom. It's Diana."

"Oh, hello, Diana." That doesn't sound too promising.

"Mom, I have big favor to ask of you and Dad." I wait for her to say something. Silence. She's not going to ask what I want. "Mom, this is hard enough for me to ask so please just think about it before you answer." I take a deep breath, "Mom, I'm leaving Greg and I need a place to stay until I can find an apartment."

"I've been meaning to call you, Diana. You're father accepted and offer to transfer to Philadelphia. We're leaving in just a couple of days."

"Were you going to wait until you were in Philadelphia to let me know?"

"Now, Diana, don't get all upset. I've tried to get ahold of you but Greg always said you were out."

"Well, let's see. There's a phone at the school. You could have called me there. Or left an message on the machine or, better still, told Greg to have me call."

"I guess you're right but you know Greg doesn't really care your father and I very much."

"Oh, yes, Mother, it's all Greg's fault. You and Daddy are *so* kind to him I don't know why he doesn't like the two of you."

"There's no need get snitty."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mom. You're right, I'm wrong, I'm sorry." With that I hang up. Why did I even bother? Everytime she and I try and talk about anything the conversation always turns back to Greg and how much *he* doesn't like *them*. When my parents met Greg they were prepared not to like him and they have never tried. To them he was a terrible ogre who took advantage of their poor, naïve daughter. They never thought that I might be as much at fault as he was. She never even asked why I was leaving Greg. She's probably decided I'm getting what I deserve.

Now what am I going to do? My brother lives in California. All my old friends had the good sense to get out D.C. when the getting was good. Greg and I have only been back in Washington for about six months so I haven't had a chance to get close enough to anyone to feel comfortable asking to crash on their couch. I'll do my Scarlett O'Hara move and think about it tomorrow. I mechanically begin packing all my clothes into any spare suitcase or bag that I can find.

Thursday
1450

I haven't heard from Diana in several days. I assume that she's staying with her parents. I don't have their number. I've drawn up papers for a no fault. All that it needs is specifics of division of assets. The other set of papers lays the blame squarely on Lt. Greg Cooper's shoulders with the possibility of a case against the woman he's having an affair with.

I've been muddling through this Martin case Mac and I working on for the last week. I know she's wondering why I'm not pulling my weight around here. I'd love to go to Mac and ask for her support with Diana's case but she would want to know why I need support. I can hear her voice in my head, "Harm, you know better than to let a case get to your emotions. Besides it's just a divorce why does it bother you so much?" I can just imagine the look on her face when I tell her about this skeleton buried so far back in my closet I can almost forget about it sometimes. I'm afraid of her reaction. I always imagine the worst case scenario where she tells me I'm scum and walks away from me forever. I need . . . want. . . her too much to have her leave now.

****

I guess I should call Harm and let him know where I'm staying. . . and ask for some help. After that loving conversation with my mother I had to decide where to go. I ended up at a hotel. I was going to stay at the house until the end of the week but I just kept envisioning Greg coming home early and bringing Lt. Mullins with him. I can't stay here forever and I'm having absolutely no luck finding an apartment I can afford. I glance at the clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes and I can leave. I think I'll drive out and see if I can meet with Harm for a few minutes.

****

"Ma'am, may I help you?"

Startled, I turn to find myself looking directly at the top button of a Marine uniform. He backs up a step and I look up. I decide being charming probably won't get me anywhere with this man but I'll give it a shot. I pull out the hundred-watt smile.

"I'm just looking for Commander Rabb. You don't happen to know where he is do you?" The charm hits the floor with a thud.

"Commander Rabb is court. Would you like to leave a message for him?" I try to take a step back this time only to find that I'm backed up against the wall.

"Is there anyway I could just wait for him in his office?"

"I'm afraid not. The commander's office is always locked and no one has a key." He inches a bit closer. He's one scary guy.

"Gunny," a woman's voice calls from across the room. His head snaps in the direction it came from and then his whole body turns to face the lady as she walks toward him. It's the same woman who came into Harm's office the first time I was here. She's wearing her coat and carrying a briefcase.

"Yes, Colonel?"

Only when she stops in front of him does she notice me. She looks me up and down as if she were trying to figure out what planet I had just arrived from.

"Aren't you a client of Commander Rabb's?"

"Yes, I am."

"He'll be here in just a second. I believe he's talking to someone." She turns back to the man in front of me, "I'm gone for the night, Gunny. If the admiral needs me just page me."

"Yes, ma'am." With that he turns and walks away. She's so distracted by something else she too walks away without a word. I stand still for another moment trying to decide exactly what to do and where to go. Luckily Harm walks around the corner.

"Diana," he pulls a ring of keys out of pocket, "how are you doing?"

"I'm okay. I guess."

He pushes the door open, "Have a seat."

He closes the door behind himself and opens the blinds. A smart man. Never give them something to talk about.

"Are you staying with your parents?"

"No. I called but they were moving to Philadelphia." He just nods his head as if it's perfectly normal for your parents to decide to move and not tell you.

"Where are you staying then?"

"I've been at a hotel." I'm not going to tell him I can't afford to be there much longer.

"You can't stay there forever. It costs too much. I'll see what I can do tomorrow." He picks up a folder and passes it across the desk to me. "In there you will find two different sets of divorce papers. The first set is simple no-fault where everyone takes what they brought to the marriage and all other assets will be divided equally. The second set of papers makes the whole thing his fault. He'll only get to take what he brought to the marriage; you'll get all assets acquired after the wedding. Now, debt is a completely different animal. Do you have any shared debt?"

I just sit there, slowly blinking. I'm shocked. I never thought it would go this quickly. His first divorce was such a mess. It took nearly a year for everything to be finalized.

"Diana?"

"Oh, um, sorry. No, there's no shared debt. My car is the only thing that we still owe on and that loan is in my name."

"Good. That makes this much easier. One more thing, if you opt for the second set of papers we can then file a civil case against the woman he is having an affair with claiming she is also at fault for your marriage ending. In the no-fault you really can't do that because the courts are going to want to know why it wasn't brought up in the divorce settlement."

"Can I think about it?"

"Of course. Take all the time you need. Read the papers, take notes, call me with questions you have. You have to do what is best for you."

I close the folder. Hugging it to my chest I get up. "Thanks, Harm." I'm out the door before he can say anything else.

Friday
1030

I can feel Mac debating whether or not to bring up Diana again. She's dying to know and at the same time realizes that if I don't want to talk about it I won't.

"So, where are we going for lunch."

"Since I have to pay I figured we could go back to my place. I have a some salad and soup left over from last night."

"What kind of soup?"

"Chicken and mushroom chowder." Her stomach rumbles again. "Did you hear that thunder? That's going to be a whopper of a storm."

"Ha, ha." We fall silent again. "So when are you going to spill the beans about the Diana case?"

"Over lunch?" Please say yes, I pray. I need time to figure out how much I want to tell.

"Okay." She turns the radio up, kicks her shoes off and props her feet up on the dashboard. She's going to sing along until we get to my place. That's her classic "I'm-going-to-entertain-myself-until-we-get-there" pose.

****

"Give me the keys. I'm about to explode." I toss the keys to her and she takes off up to the apartment. She's needed to go to the restroom for the last twenty minutes. I take my time. I'm still trying to buy some time. I walk in the door (that she left standing wide open) just in time to hear her turn the water off.

I busy myself pulling out everything we need. I hear her heels on the floor of my bedroom as I put the soup in the microwave. I reach for the refrigerator door when I realize I haven't heard enough footsteps for her to be at the bar behind me. I turn and she's standing at the step down into the main room.

"What?"

"How are you and Renee?"

Uh-oh.

"I told you we were fine."

"Then where's all her stuff."

"What stuff?"

"Last time I was here she had staked off a corner of your shower for her stuff and even part of the cabinet space."

"How did you know?"

"Let's think. You have a clear shower door. Anyone can see what's in there."

"And the cabinet space?"

"I needed something and I thought Renee might have left a few here."

I'm all prepared to be pissed off that she had been snooping. Instead I realize I have to tell the truth because Mac had good reasons for knowing what she knows. She stares at me from across the room.

"Renee left."

"Why?"

"She said she didn't have the strength anymore." I study the countertop. Suddenly she's beside me and her arm is around my waist.

"It will all work out." She squeezes me closer. "Now what about that lunch and story you promised me?"

"Sit down while I get it ready." She hops up on the counter beside the sink.

"So spill."

"Why are you so insistent?"

"Because it's bothering you so much. I hate to see you let a case get to you like this one has. Now tell Auntie Sarah." She has this goofy, half-begging, half-demanding look on her face.

"One thing I do know is that I don't have any aunts that look like you."

"Quit stalling, Harm. I know you're avoidance techniques."

I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. "It's not that big of a deal. Diana came to the office looking for a lawyer and she happened to find me. She could have just as easily found you. But she found me. She just wants to divorce her husband."

"What's the rest of it?"

"Her husband is having an affair." She doesn't say anything. I can see her trying to avoid feeling what Diana feels.

"You're still leaving something out."

How the hell does she know?

"Diana met him while he was still married to his first wife. They apparently had a pretty serious affair that led to him leaving wife number one."

"And this affects you so deeply how?"

Damn, I knew she had intuition but I didn't realize she was a mind reader.

"That's another story. A very, very long story."

She slides off the counter, picks up the bowls of salad, and puts them on the table. She gets salad dressing out of the fridge. Sitting down she pours some onto her salad and tosses it around with her fork. Taking a bite she looks at me expectantly. I don't take the bait.

"I've got all the time you need. Let's hear it." I place the soup bowls on the table and grab a couple of bottles of water out of the fridge.

"I'm not sure why it bothers me. It's usually something I don't even let myself think about. It's been so long ago it seems like a bad dream sometimes, not reality."

"The beginning, Harm. It makes much more sense if you start at the beginning."

I smile a little and pick at my salad. "You're asking for the part that is the hardest to remember. Here goes. It was just after I graduated from Annapolis. They had sent me to flight school. Her name was Emily. She an office manager for someone, I don't remember who."

"Was she military?"

"No, she was civilian. A lot of the office workers were. We got to be pretty good friends. For some reason I was in that office often. We talked a lot. I remember her telling me how unhappy she was in her marriage but she never gave a clear reason why she was staying in it."

"Was her husband military?"

"No. I don't remember what he did. Finally one day she asked me if I'd like to meet her for drink and maybe dinner. I agreed. Being me I should have known better but it just felt right. Like that was what I was supposed to do. Have you had that feeling? You look at something and, logically, you know it's wrong but it just *feels* right."

A smile pulls at the corner of her mouth, "Many times, Harm, many times. The part of you that's rational says to do one thing but your gut feeling is to do the opposite. Tell me the rest."

"Well, to make a long story longer, we went to dinner that night. The conversations were like so many that we had had before. I walked her to her car and as we stood there she reached up and kissed me. Not that "kiss-your-cousin-goodbye" kind of kiss either. There was so much hope and desire in that kiss," I reach out and trace her lower lip with my thumb, "I couldn't just walk away. From there it escalated to a full-blown affair. Our affair was a flash in the pan. It lasted only a few months and then we both decided it couldn't continue. Her husband eventually found out. He pulled up stakes and left. Disappeared into the wild blue yonder. Emily eventually found out where he had gone when the divorce papers were served. When Diana sat in my office and told me what her husband was doing I was hit with the realization of what I had done to Emily's husband. My desire to have what I wanted, damn the consequences, destroyed someone else's life."

"Harm, I'm sure he recovered and moved on," she puts her hand in mine, "and I'm sure Diana will do the same. At this moment it looks like her life has flown out of control and she'll never get it back but she will. As people we are awfully resilient. It can feel like everything is gone and we'll never get it back but we do. We grab what's ours, our life, and we persist in living our lives."

"You sound more sure than I feel."

"Because I've done it, Harm. I muddled through Chris' death. I survived Dalton's death and the stalking. I didn't let your rejection in Australia. . ."

"Do you have to bring that up?"

"Yes. And I'll get through this mess with Mic. I may not have Mic when it's over but I'll survive. And you know who I'll turn to for strength?"

"Tiner?"

"Yeah, Tiner. No. You. You're always there. Sometimes when I don't even want you there," she leans in and brushes her lips against mine, "And when it's all said and done, and you forgive yourself for Emily and let Renee go, I'll be here. I'll be here waiting for you."

"You're already there. . .waiting for me?."

"Yes."

Saturday
1245

"Rabb."

"Harm, this is Diana. I'm going to sign the no-fault and have a courier bring them to you Monday."

"Okay. Why the no-fault?"

"I need it to be over so that I can move on."

"I understand." I hear the soft click as she hangs up.

"Diana?"

"Yeah, she's ready to begin moving on."

"Good for her. It's time for us to just get moving. We're going to be late for the movie."

I watch her grab her coat and the car keys. "Marines," I mutter, "always acting their sixes are on fire."

Her voice echoes up the stairwell, "I heard that!"

End.
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