Ever since I last saw Liza, I haven't been at peace with my mind. It keeps drifting back to that balcony, how right it felt to have her in my arms, hidden away from the rest of the world. If we had stayed there long enough I might have told her I love her. But I shouldn't because I know now that she wants me back and I want her as well, but I am leaving very soon, for an entire year.

I walk into the loft from a long day of house hunting. I have been looking for a house where me and Rehan will stay when I come back. My Real Estate agent showed a couple of good houses but I haven't decided yet.

I find Luca on his computer, I pass behind him on my way to get water, and see that he is looking at photographs of Rwanda. I get a glass from the cabinet and pour myself some water. I can't shake the feeling that I can smell Liza's perfume right now. I go to the window for a bit to clear my senses, because I must be hallucinating, or am I obsessed?

When I come back, it is the same, I ask Luca about it, "Was Liza here today?"

He looks up quickly, "Yes." He answers a bit too eagerly. "She was looking for you." That explains the whole perfume thing, but the fact that I can recognize her perfume hours after she has left beats me for sure.

"What did she say?" I take a seat.

"Nothing much, just that you should wait for her." He says and shrugs.

Wait for her? "What else did she say?" I'd love to know more.

"Nothing." He answers. He looks at me like he is assessing me. "She just left." He adds.

"Oh." I am disappointed. After a pause, I tell him the truth, "I broke up with Liza last month." I say sheepishly.

"Oh." He answers as though he is imitating me. Then he laughs. "I already know, Asher knows as well."

"Did Liza tell you?" I ask him.

"No, but we knew a long time ago. How could we not get the hint when you suddenly stopped talking about her?" He asks me with amusement.

"I don't talk about her that much." I answer defensively.

"She was all you thought about, talked about, apparently, all you care about as well."

"That's bad." I answer warily.

"Not necessarily, you are really happy with her, so I don't see any problem with getting obsessed at some point in your life." He is teasing me.

"I am not obsessed with her." I answer.

He looks at me with disbelief, "Whatever you say." He goes back to internet surfing.

I get up from my seat and go to my room. I climb into bed and immediately fall asleep because of exhaustion.

I wake up early the next morning in the mood for a jog. I put on sports shorts and go to the kitchen to drink some water before I go.

When I close the tap, I hear a banging sound on the door. I tell myself it's nothing and take my first sip of the water. Then I hear it again. It isn't that loud, it's like something is being hit on the door without much force. I put the glass down and go to the door. When I open it, Liza's head hits my chest. What is she doing? Was she using her head to bang on the door?

"Liza." I call her but she doesn't answer. I realize with a start that she is sleepwalking. She makes the same motion like she is going to bang her head again but I stop her midway by enclosing her in my arms. She sighs and puts her arms loosely around me as well. I wonder what she is seeing in her dreams.

She starts mumbling some inaudible words, I simply take it for a mumble jumble, until she says, "I love you." I am startled. I check again to see if she is still asleep, which she is. Who is she dreaming about? Is it me?

We must look like such an odd pair standing like this out in the open, me with my sports shorts and nothing else, and her wearing pajama pants and my t-shirt. A car passes by and honks too loud; the driver glares at me. What's with him? Liza stirs up from her sleep, with wary eyes.

When her gaze meets mine, her eyes widen and she rubs her eyes, "You really here?" She asks in a groggy voice.

"I am here." I answer with amusement.

"I thought I was still in my dream." She blurts out. That is confirmation enough that she was dreaming about me. Does that mean-

"I was in your dream?" I tease her.

Her cheeks gain a tint of rose, "No." She denies it. I laugh at her sheepishness. She cracks a smile even though I am obviously laughing at her.

"Stop it." She says with a pout.

"We both know you love it." I find myself uttering the word love without thinking. My laughter dies down quickly. She looks at me quizzically, did I make this awkward? I ask myself.

"I want to tell you everything." She starts, "If you want to listen. I'll leave, if you don't want to." She tells me in such a resigned tone it pains me to know that I made the happy, feisty, kind of cocky Liza like this.

I nod wordlessly. She holds my hand and takes me back to my room. She lays down on my bed and looks at me expectantly. I lay down beside her and wait for her to start. "Well, I kind of started sleepwalking when I was like seven or eight. It wasn't such abig deal then, I would just go a small distance and then go back to my room on instinct, my parents actually thought, I was going out to get water, until one day my mom woke up and found me in the kitchen holding a knife hitting the countertop like I was cooking, all the time with my eyes closed. She was horrified. From that day on, all the knives were kept in the upper drawers and my parents were on the lookout for anything unusual that I did." She pauses and glances at me, "This is getting so long." She says apologetically.

"That's okay, I want to hear everything." I urge her to continue.

"Okay." She resumes, "When I was fifteen, my parents were out late and I walked out of the house in my sleep. They told me later that I had been heading to a café me and my friends used to hangout at, when I crossed the road. A truck came blaring it's horn at me, so that I could step aside, but I was still asleep; I wasn't hearing a thing. The truck stopped inches before it ran me over. They called my parents and the next day they started looking for some remedy. That same week they were convinced that a psychologist could help me, so I started going to sessions every week. Three years later, that's where I met Glen." She pauses.

My interest increases, all the questions I have about her past marriage are going to be answered. "Glen was my psychologist since I was 18, he was better than all my previous doctors, and younger. I was convinced I loved him. We dated for three years and then got married. Until a few months ago, I thought he was the one, but then he started being absent from home, he always said he was working and I believed him. One night I waited for him to come home, but then I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was standing in the guest room, looking at him cheating on me with another woman, in the house." She looks sad as she says it. I lace my finger into hers to offer her consolation. She tightens hers around mine in response.

"I spent a week bawling my eyes out, regretting why I was so unfortunate. He told me that he was with her because I had said I didn't want kids and that she was pregnant already. I'd just said I didn't want them then but he went and cheated on me." I hear her sniffle, she wipes her tears away and continues to talk, "I left the next day and ended up at Jade's. You and I met for the first time that day at the party, and the rest is history."

She doesn't say anything after that, I assume she is done. I think I understand now most of the things that happened.

"You loved him?" I ask.

"I did." She answers with regret in her voice.

"Do you love me?" I blurt out before I can even think through what I am saying.

Silence passes between us. To be honest it would be good to know where I stand, but then again it will hurt if she doesn't yet feel that way about me.

"Neverm-"

"I do." She says looking me straight in the eye. She blushes afterwards and looks away. I put my hand under her chin and make her face me again.

"I-" The door to my room flies open. There, standing in the doorway, is her father. He looks at me with a scowl. I remove my hand from Liza's face and get up. I used to say her dad is not scary, but don't be fooled, he can be when he wants to, like right now.

"Young man, I'd like to have a word with you." He says with a lot of fierceness in his voice. I take a step forward but Liza stops me.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" She asks him.

"I am here for him." He points his finger at me. The intensity of his eyes is piercing, if they were lasers, I'd be a puddle by now.

"What for?" Liza asks relentlessly, it's like she is silently challenging her dad; she has guts for sure.

His voice softens because he is talking to her, "I heard from a bird that that boy broke up with my daughter." Boy? Really? I don't get time to dwell on that because Liza fires back.

"Dad, don't listen to birds." She answers dismissively. Damn.

"But it's true, right?" The question is directed at me.

Should I lie and save my life or tell the truth and face the wrath of an angry dad? "Yes, sir." I answer with utmost respect. His glare intensifies.

"Dad, you can't do anything to him." Liza sounds like she is trying to convince him not to do something bad to me; it isn't reassuring.

"Why is that?" He asks her.

"Because I love him." She utters so simply, my eyes almost bulge out of my skull. Of all people, she had to say that in front of her father, who is under the assumption that I do not love her.

Mr. Murray also looks taken aback; he did not expect such a turn of events. That makes two of us. He looks at me and then back at his daughter. I don't know what expression to put on my face so that he can see that my intentions are good.

"Ok." He starts looking around, for something to rant about. "Why is my daughter in your room?" He asks pointedly.

Liza gets up from my bed and links her arm into her father's, "Dad, stop being paranoid." She sounds a lot like a parent scolding a child. She steers him out the door and they go downstairs; I am close behind all the while.

"Why are you in your pajamas? Did you sleep here?" He asks with bewilderment.

"No. I just came without changing." She answers breezily and leads him to the living room. "Do you want something to drink?" She asks him after he takes a seat in the one seater.

"Coffee will do." He answers.

She turns and goes to the kitchen to get him the coffee. I am stuck standing in the doorway with no notion of what I should do. Mr. Murray looks at me and motions me forward. I take a seat nearby, but not too near that he will be able to punch me if he has to. "My promise still stands." He says and I know immediately that he is referring to when he told me he would find me if I hurt her.

"I understand sir." I answer.

"Now, relax, I guess you're off the hook." He says and stretches his legs to get more comfortable. I am pretty sure I hear him say, 'for now', but I'd rather not clarify.

Liza returns with three mugs of coffee. She hands one to her dad, one to me and takes the other. I take a sip of the coffee, happy to get an escape from Mr. Murray's scrutinous eye.

Liza and her dad carry on a conversation of their own as I sit there drinking my coffee without saying anything. At some point, something they say grabs my attention, "Andre called last week." Mr. Murray says.

Liza's face lights up, "What did he say?" She asks.

"Something about taking you to dinner tomorrow." He looks at me indicatively.

I don't like the sound of that. I trust Liza, but I don't trust Andre. The first time we met I could tell he still had feelings for Liza, no matter how much he said otherwise. I don't know why I feel extremely threatened by this upcoming dinner when Liza told me she loves me, but I do, and I'll have to do something about it.

I start mulling over my options until I find one that suits me best, I am sure Liza will like it too, if she doesn't see through my guise that is.

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