"It will be fine," Owen whispered into Lora's sleek, brown hair as she sobbed into his chest. His arms were tight around her, the fear of her crashing to the ground exceeding that of her breaking under his force.

Eventually, her breathing relaxed, her shaking soothed. She pulled away and lifted her face to his. He saw the pain, the heartbreak in her eyes and that was probably the only reason that he resisted the urge to swoop in and kiss her.

If only Lora knew how close he was to losing his resolve the day before, how in that moment, as he held her in his arms, his self-restraint was stretched beyond imagination. It wasn't just that he wanted her. It was that she was the most magnificent creature he had ever met and he needed to show her. She needed to know how special she was.

But she had just seen her husband, who had been in a coma for more than ten days now, have a full-blown epileptic fit. And sure, she was strong, she was smart and she knew there was a risk of this happening. But seeing it happen to patients was one thing. Seeing it happen to someone you know was something else entirely.

Owen knew this. But Lora didn't know any of it. And when he raised his fingers to her face and wiped her tear-stained cheeks, she didn't know the fear, the guilt in her eyes almost made him snap. She didn't know how acutely aware he was that she blamed herself for this. She didn't know how sad it made him, how he thought of his mother. She was the same.

"Lora," he started, but she shook her head and rested her forehead against his chest. He caressed her hair again, holding her until she could hold herself.

Lora heaved in a deep breath. She exhaled and when she looked up, her eyes were guarded, her face set in determination. "I have to go back," she announced barely meeting his eyes. "Jonathan will want me there."

Dr Owen Shaw felt the Earth quake but he swallowed the many things he wanted to tell her. The speech he had prepared overnight didn't matter. She wanted distance. She wasn't ready and if that was how she felt, then he wouldn't push.  He wouldn't cause her any more pain. They would just ignore their connection if that was what she wanted. Or maybe wait it out. It will fizzle into nothing, or at least into something more bearable. Her husband will be waking up from his coma soon anyway. They didn't have any more time.

Her husband.

Dr Owen Shaw felt a stab of anger as he remembered how Jonathan Scicluna treated her, like she was his dog, but he quickly pushed it away. He had to. Jonathan was his patient for God's sake. It didn't matter that he thought he saw doubt, even lust, in Lora's doe, brown eyes whenever she looked at him. It didn't matter that he thought she hadn't smiled the way she smiled around him in years. He had to ignore all his instincts, all his beliefs because he had to respect the fact that she chose to ignore it too.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

He did not mean to push himself on her. If anything, he wanted to get away. And she knew that. He could see, from the sweet smile she gave him, from the soft closing of her eyes, her soft eyelashes sticking to the remnants of the tears on her pale cheeks, that she knew he just wanted to support her.

But Lora shook her head and answered, "Thank you, Owen."

#

When Lora walked back into the room, the heads of her four children turned towards her. Their eyes were questioning, full of concern. She had run off and Dr Shaw had chased after her without explanation. He shouldn't have done that, but Heavens! How she needed his words, his comfort.

Feeling uncomfortable, Lora shuffled her feet and pushed her loose locks behind her ears. She wiped under her eyes, knowing she must look a mess.

"James had a tutorial. He couldn't miss it. But he said to tell you he's sorry he couldn't make it. I told him what happened," Jess said as she bounced a sleepy Siena on her knee. Aiden had a book open in his lap but he was looking wistfully at his father, as though taking the opportunity to observe him while he couldn't yell at him.

Lora nodded to signal that it was okay.

"Aunt Lora," Krista started hesitantly. Lora dragged her eyes away from her son to focus on the young lady. She was here. She saw everything. "Dr Brandon said it's normal that this happens. They took blood just in case but she said they will definitely try again tomorrow."

The memory of Jonathan's wide, furious eyes, condemning her for every thought riveting in her mind, every emotion waving through her body, made Lora's stomach turn. He knew. Somehow, he knew she was spending time with a new friend A male friend. A friend who made things easier, who made life bearable and made her laugh. But did he also know how badly she wanted to touch him? How she yearned to taste his lips? How it scared her that she could no longer ignore it?

Repress it? Yes. Stop it? She had to. But ignore it? How could she? It was physically hurting her to think of him now. Her fingers shook with need. Her stomach choked with longing.

She didn't have to be very imaginative to guess what Jonathan would say to her. He had called her many things, many times. Only this time, he'd be right.

She sank into the only chair available. She lowered her eyes to the floor and hugged her already stretched cardigan around her body, pretending the material was Owen's arms and that he was right behind her, telling her it will be fine. She had no idea what he was referring to when he said it. She only knew she believed him.

#

After the kids were asleep, Lora poured herself a glass of red wine. She drank half of it not giving it time to breathe, and walked into the shower, eyes fixated on the white and grey patterned marble in front of her. She opened the tap and waited for the hot water to ease the knots in her shoulders, the goosebumps on her skin. She lifted her face towards the falling droplets mixing with her tears and heard a whimper escape her lips like a wounded she-wolf.

On any other day, she would have clamped her hand to her mouth, asked God for the courage she needed and told herself to get a grip. Today, she gripped the marble to stop herself from crashing to the floor and let her tears flow. She felt lost and alone and in a way, relieved for the opportunity to wallow. Her emotions were weighing her down. The shame, the guilt, the want.

She remembered Hannah talking about boys when she was too young, too naïve to understand. Her older sister always seemed so infatuated, so completely taken by love, or at least the idea of it.

And while Lora believed her first weeks of courting with Jonathan were as close as she would ever get to that feeling of giddiness Hannah ranted on about, she always knew it was not quite it. She suspected it was because their journey was dampened by guilt. Their relationship was tainted by the fear of having to tell her parents that she would marry a man old enough to be her father, the same man who was previously married to their eldest daughter. It was marred by the friction it caused with her brother, who accused her of throwing her life away.

But when she and Jonathan decided to marry, as wrong as it may have seemed to everybody else, it all made sense to her. Father Louis said it was one of the many mysteries of God where life had come full circle. Lora fit into a broken puzzle and held the pieces together.

Her connection with Owen however, was the complete opposite. Lora may have felt more comfortable, more whole than she'd ever felt before when she was around him. But whatever it was that pulled her towards him filled her with fear. It gave her newfound energy that threatened to overturn the fine equilibrium that was her life. The picture-perfect image she attained by marrying Jona was darkened by a looming storm and yet, she longed for the rain.

Distance. All she needed was enough distance to think straight. Enough time for these strange feelings to pass. She was human after all.

Her feelings were new and confusing, but she was strong. She will be strong through Him. She will be strong for her husband who needed her and for her children who depended on her. She told herself she was being ridiculous. She only had to get through the night. She had to endure the feeling of loss that threatened to break her lungs for one night. The excruciating twisting in her gut.

She racked her brain to conjure something from the Bible that could help her. She tried to imagine what her father would say, what Father Louis would tell her if she were in confession right now. But nothing could comfort her. All she heard was his voice telling her it will be fine. All she could feel was his lips in her hair, his light green eyes pouring into her, his arms around her, hands on her face, her back, holding her, protecting her, making her skin burn in a way she had never experienced before, his gentle whispers soothing her ache.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt a sudden jolt of warmth rush through her. Her eyes opened wide when she realised her hands had wandered to places on her body that hadn't been touched in a long, long time. Lora's heart started to race and the rise and fall of her chest became uneven. Her cheeks were warm and her body felt hot and flushed and not just because of the hot water soaking her.

She quickly removed her hands and hid them behind her back. What was she doing? She hadn't done something like that since she was in her early teens and exploring her body. And even then she always stopped herself from going too far, knowing how very wrong it was.

The wife does not have authority over her own body but yields it to her husband. The First Epistle to the Corinthians.

She had a husband. A husband who was going through so much. What was she doing?

She turned off the water and stepped into her bathrobe. She towel-dried her hair, took her wine glass and went straight to bed. She prayed for forgiveness, for the strength to not be led astray. She prayed for the strength to safeguard her marriage in the face of temptation. She prayed for Owen to back off magically and for the ability to push him away if he didn't.

Her phone vibrated on the bedside table. She sat up and snatched it quickly. It was a message from Owen. Of course.

I'm sorry, I didn't drop by this afternoon. I got the impression you wanted to spend time alone with your family. Hope you're feeling better. Goodnight. x.

She threw her phone on the mattress in frustration and her left hand reached for the wine. She downed it in one gulp and allowed the quick rush to go up to her head. Owen hit the nail right on the head. Spending time alone with her family was exactly what she wanted. Or what she should have wanted. And yet here she was, in her empty bed thinking only of him.

Did he feel it too? This sense of incompleteness? The sheer nerve of the sun daring to set as it normally did when they didn't meet for a cup of coffee or a glass of wine after their long and stressful day?

She imagined telling him what was going through her mind and she blushed. That would be wrong, but if it were not, he would understand.

He would probably laugh at her, shaking his head at her strong beliefs, his light brown curls cascading down his forehead. His green eyes lighting up with an animated gleam and his lips curving into a lopsided smile, the dimple in his left cheek popping dangerously. He would call her silly and innocent and impossibly pure. She would argue with him and he would only smile wider, making her heart skip and her insides melt. She lay back down and stared at the ceiling, picturing his face clearly as though he were in front of her. She could hear his chuckle in her ear, as though he was behind her, warming her from the inside.

She moved uncomfortably under her bedsheets, the soft material of her bathrobe suddenly harsh against her chest. Her nipples felt sensitive and yet she wasn't cold. On the contrary, another wave of heat flushed her body and she kicked at her sheets.

Just relax, she imagined him telling her. She exhaled and felt her body melting into the mattress. Her fingers slowly moved down her tummy, wanting to soothe the itch that was gnawing at her. They slid into the soft cotton of her panties and Lora was surprised at the wetness she found between her thighs. She gasped as her cold fingertips slid further toward the tightness building up inside her.

That's it, baby. Just live for me, Owen's chocolate voice said, and as her middle finger found the little nub Jonathan sometimes rubbed before he made love to her, images from the dream she had a while ago flooded her mind. Her head leaned back against the pillow and her breaths became shallow as her finger eased into a rhythm that matched the pulsating pressure in her core.

She tilted her head to the left as she visualised Dr Owen Shaw trailing hot kisses down her neck. Lora wanted to stop but her left hand automatically went to her breast as she anticipated his hot breath on her now aching nipples. Her legs spread as she imagined his fingers between them, instead of hers. She had stared at his hands so often and for so long, it was the easiest game of pretend she had ever played.

She opened her eyes and practically found his light green irises staring back at her. His easy smile. His soft curls. His strong arms were around her. Her throat became painfully dry, the pressure inside her almost unbearable. His tongue traced her jaw, his lips on hers, his mouth, their breaths fast, uneven, shallow. His hands. Hands all over her. His fingers kneading her as she looked into his eyes. Writhing. Twisting. Intense.

And then Lora was gasping in shock at the sudden explosion of white light that shot waves of pleasure through her body. Her back arched off the mattress, her mouth wide open. Her heart beat hard against her chest, not with fatigue but with white, hot energy. Life.

I need you to live, Lora.