Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house…not a critter was stirring, not even a…

“Luc?”

Nikita’s sleepy voice barely registered on the five-year old boy. On his hands and knees, he was peering under the bed.

“What are you looking for?”

“The bogeyman.” Luc sounded so serious. It was all Nikita could do not to wake up Michael. He should hear what passed for riveting conversation at this hour of the night between his wife and his youngest son.

“Luc,” Nikita said softly, trying not to belittle her son’s fears, “the bogeyman isn’t real.”

Luc’s head came up so sharply, he nearly hit the edge of the bed. “Yes, he is!” Luc shouted, his light eyes suddenly dark. Nikita was puzzled. Luc didn’t seem so much afraid as he did excited.

“Luc? Do you know what a bogeyman is?”

He nodded vigorously, his shaggy reddish-brown hair bouncing up and down on his shoulders. “Yep, Faith told me.”

Oh, this should be good. Maybe she would wake Michael.

“Really? What did Faith say?”

“He brings presents!” Luc declared triumphantly.

It was hard not to laugh, but the earnest expression on Luc’s face gave her pause. “I think…you have your holidays mixed up, Luc.”

“You mean we don’t get presents?” He looked positively crestfallen.

“No,” she smiled. “I mean he’s not the bogeyman.”

“Ohh…what’s his name then? I want to make sure he knows who I am.”

Nikita smoothed the still baby-fine hair back from Luc’s already handsome face. “Well, sweetie, he’s Santa.”

“Ohh…okay.”

Michael rolled over in his sleep, one arm trapping Nikita beneath its weight. “Hey,” he murmured drowsily against her ear, his nose nudging its way through her hair.

At the feel of his tongue on her skin, she chuckled, gently removing his arm from around her body. “Mi-chael…we have com-pany….”

“Mmm…we have a visitor? At this hour? You just don’t want to—“

“Sweep the floor! You’re right, Michael. It would raise such a lot of dust. We’d be sneezing till dawn.”

Michael opened his eyes more fully, giving his wife a curious look. She in turn coughed and gestured at their son, who suddenly seemed fascinated by his parents.

“Daddy? You could use the vacuum cleaner ‘stead. That wouldn’t be as messy as the broom.”

Michael regarded his wife with a playful twinkle in his now bright green eyes. “Hmm…there’s a lot to be said for sucking….” The pause drove Nikita crazy with anticipation. She was positive that Michael was going to tease her right up to the brink. And in front of their son, too.

“Sucking what, Daddy?” Luc pondered innocently.

“Dirt, Luc. Dirt.” A tiny muscle twitched at the corner of Michael’s mouth, and Nikita stifled the laughter threatening to overcome her.

She would get Michael for this later. She had ways of making him pay….

***

Luc, ever-present sprite that he was, found more people to stalk a short while later. He was hiding behind the Christmas tree, eavesdropping on the grown-ups who approached, unbeknownst to them.

The tiny flashing lights intermittently lit up the darkened room, though not enough to give away Luc’s hiding place. The two men had presents. Luc was mesmerized. He wondered if one of his many uncles could be Santa. Wouldn’t his oldest sister be furious and amazed if he found out the true identity of Santa Claus?

Sey leaned over to place the rectangular box under the Christmas tree, and he chuckled as his lover took advantage of that position to caress his lower back, sliding his long, slender fingers inside his unfastened jeans.

During the past several years, the Samuelle family had developed the habit of celebrating Christmas together. The tree was always in Michael and Nikita’s living room, and so were the presents. Sometimes the two together took up the entire space, leaving no room for people. But as Nikita quickly realized, it was misleading. There was always room…for one more.

“Hey,” Sey automatically protested, turning to face his partner. “What are you trying to do to me? Have your wicked way?”

Declan held Sey’s face between his hands and kissed him, his tongue lightly lapping at his earlobe. “Is it wicked if I want to stick my tongue in your—“

Suddenly Sey caught a glimpse of Luc and gasped, “—ear!”

Declan drew back with a frown. “Your ear? Baby, I want to—“

“Oh, jeez.” Sey nearly jumped back, separating his body from Declan’s. He could see how this was about to wind up.

“What’s the matter with you?” Declan asked, totally confused by Sey’s reaction. They had been making love all evening and into the night, more or less in celebration of their anniversary, when Sey remembered the last package that had to be wrapped. Throwing on a pair of jeans without even bothering to fasten them, Sey had teased, touched and provoked Declan all the way down the stairs and into the Samuelle part of the house.

“It’s getting late,” Sey finished lamely.

Declan blinked. “Suddenly you’re tired?”

Sey pulled Declan close, whispering into his ear, “Little pitchers have big ears.”

“What the bloody hell does that--?” Declan declared with a scowl before his lambent silver gaze lit upon the young boy crouching behind the tree. “—mean…”

“Hi,” said Luc.

“Hi,” said Sey weakly, waving to the little boy.

Luc stood up and walked over to where Declan and Sey were. Scrunching his face up, Luc asked blithely, “Why?”

“Why what?” Declan replied with a certain feeling of trepidation.

“You said you wanted to put your tongue in his ear.” Luc’s expression made it abundantly clear what he thought of that suggestion.

“Why?”

“I—uh, aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Luc whined.

“I’m a grown-up. I don’t have to answer every question.”

Nice try, thought Sey. That’ll never work. I’ve seen this kid in action before. He’s like Michael and Nikita on steroids.

“My Daddy does.”

“Your Daddy does what?” Declan was really rather proud of that one. He was starting to sound just like Luc.

“Answers questions.” Luc stared at his uncle, deep in thought. “Hey, I think Daddy likes that, too.”

Declan raised an eyebrow. “Likes what?”

“He sticks his tongue in Mommy’s ear. He doesn’t know I saw him, but I did.”

Sheesh. Thanks for sharing. Declan couldn’t help it. Little embarrassed him. But he knew he was blushing. And at his age, too.

“That’s…um…nice.” There. That sounded appropriately noncommittal.

“Are you going to hurt Uncle Sey?”

Declan gasped. “What? Of course not. Luc—“

“Daddy does.”

“Daddy hurts Uncle Sey?” Declan narrowed his eyes to slits and studied his lover and partner of several years. Sey looked back helplessly, shaking his head.

“No!” Luc’s entire tone and body language indicated that Declan was barking up the wrong tree. A moment later, Declan wanted to flee.

“He hurts Mommy.”

“What?” Declan wrapped an arm around Sey’s waist and wished that they had never left their third-floor apartment. He leaned on the younger man, his lips grazing Sey’s ear, as he whispered, “Help me. Please.”

“Luc, I’m sure your Daddy…” Sey nearly stumbled over the words in his mouth. “…doesn’t hurt your Mommy.”

“Yes, he does,” Luc persisted, addressing Declan. “He kisses her, just the way you kissed Uncle Sey, and then she makes a funny noise, like he’s hurting her.”

Sey wanted to scream. He wanted to remain a non-participant in anyone’s sex life but his own. And knowing even this much about Michael’s made him feel like he should apologize for finding it out.

“Umm….” Sey’s voice drifted out as Declan’s tongue swirled around the outside of his ear. “Aye, tell us, boyo. I want to hear the answer to that one, too.”

“I plead the fifth,” Sey murmured to Declan.

“What’s a fifth?” Luc inquired.

Sey could feel Declan’s laughter thrumming throughout his body, the gentle vibration making Sey’s body tingle in response. “Umm…Luc? We have to go now.”

“Oh. ‘Kay. I’ll just ask Faith. She knows everything.”

Sey searched the young boy’s face for deceit and saw nothing but genuine pride there. Far be it for him to disabuse Luc of the notion that older sisters or brothers could be somewhat omniscient. It was undoubtedly a conceit that Faith fostered for a reason.

“Luc?” Okay, he couldn’t let that go.

The little boy nodded.

“Maybe not everything.”

Sasha rolled his eyes and gave his father a gentle shove. Declan was still asleep in bed, lying on his stomach, the apparent disarray of the blankets revealing more than they concealed. “Da! You’re missing Christmas!”

Declan opened one storm-grey eye and peered sleepily at his twelve-year old son. “You woke me up,” he said flatly.

“Yeah. you wanted to sleep all day?”

Declan turned over onto his back and stretched expansively. “Maybe.”

“You’re such a slut, Da,” Sasha snorted, trying in vain to suppress a chuckle.

A satisfied smile crept across Declan’s fine-boned visage. “Mmm…if you weren’t my son, I might take exception to that.”

Sasha winked at his father. “No one else would dare tell you the truth.”

An insouciant sparkle entered Declan’s silvery gaze. “No one who’s lived to tell the story, anyway.”

Sasha pretended to shiver, and Declan huffed softly in protest. “No fair. You see right through me, kiddo. I’ve got a certain reputation to uphold here, y’know, as a dangerous man.”

Sasha grinned unrepentantly. “Well, I hate to tell you, Da, but I think Dad’s turning you into a freaking marshmallow.”

“Bite your tongue. Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me how sweet I am,” Declan said with a laugh.

“Nah, let’s not get carried away,” Sasha replied, his dark eyes gleaming just like Sey’s.

“Where’s your Dad gone to then?”

“Dad’s in the kitchen downstairs. With Emmy. She’s in full baking mode, Da. It’s kinda scary. I swear…she needs to get a life.”

“She likes the one she’s got, Sasha. You can’t quarrel with that.”

“Sure I can. I like to tease Princess Em. She gets all red in the face, and then she acts like one of us Earthlings for a change.”

A long muscular thigh slid out of bed. “All brothers think their sisters are from outer space.”

“You too?”

Declan nodded. “Aye, kiddo.” He reluctantly pulled himself into a sitting position, rubbing his bare chest with one splayed hand. “Mind you, I loved every one of them. But I can’t claim I understood them.”

Declan yawned. “I can’t believe Sey left me up here alone.”

“You know it’s Dad’s favorite holiday, Da. He loves all that stuff.”

Declan sighed. “I know.”

Sasha perched on the edge of the bed. “How can you miss him when you were together all night long?”

Declan looked askance at his son. “You wait till you’re in love.”

“I am. With Skye.”

“It’s…different…when you’re older.”

“How?”

Declan looked conflicted. “Well….”

“Oh, I get it. The sex part.”

“It’s not sex, Sasha. It’s making love. And when you get that close to someone else, it’s like you’re part of them.”

Sasha smiled. “If I say I can’t wait to grow up, you’ll tell me I’m being impatient. As usual.”

“You are. Don’t be in such a hurry to grow up.”

“I can’t help it, Da. When I see what you and Dad have…I want that, too.”

“I think that’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.” Declan looked momentarily nonplussed. He reached out to ruffle Sasha’s hair, but the young boy suddenly cast his eyes down at the bed, plucking almost anxiously at the blankets.

Declan was nothing if not perceptive. “What’s wrong, Sasha?”

“Nothing. It’s Christmas, Da. What could be wrong?” he said lightly, but the warmth never reached his voice.

“Something’s troubling you. Is it school?”

At the mention of school, Sasha frowned, a fierce glare coming and going in his eyes.

“It is school, then.”

“No. It’s…it’s not school, Da. Not exactly.”

“How not exactly?” Declan inquired kindly, trying to brush Sasha’s long brown hair away from his face. He wanted to see Sasha’s face. He needed to know what was running through that agile mind of his.

“Um…there’s this girl.”

“Ah,” Declan nodded knowingly.

“Don’t say it like that, Da. You think you know what I’m going to say, but you don’t. You couldn’t.”

Declan blinked. Now Sasha was scaring him.

“There’s this girl. She’s older than me. I think she’s almost 14.”

“And?” The anticipation was killing him. What was Sasha trying to say?

“And I…um…like her.”

Declan nodded encouragingly. “And?”

All at once Sasha flushed dark red. “She’s…I….”

Declan regarded his son with a mixture of love and angst. “You’re attracted to her?”

A tiny muscle clenched and unclenched itself along Sasha’s jawline. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I’m so ashamed,” he continued in a low voice.

“Why, kiddo?” Declan shook his head. “It’s a normal part of growing up. There’s nothing wrong with having those kinds of feelings.”

“But Da, I love Skye,” Sasha cried out in an agonized tone.

“Aye, I know you do,” Declan agreed.

“Well, how can I love Skye and want to…to…boff this girl?” Sasha clapped a hand over his mouth, as if he could somehow contain the feelings that threatened to spill recklessly.

“Sasha, I know you don’t want to hear this, but you’re too young to be boffing anyone.”

“I know, Da. I just—“

“—have the feeling. I know.” Declan raked a hand through his long red hair. “Y’know, just cause you have these feelings…it doesn’t mean you have to act on them. I’m not telling you to stop feeling what you feel, but you can control yourself.”

“I know, I’m not going to run screaming through the streets trolling for girls, Da.” Sasha looked miserable. “But it feels like I’m betraying Skye, Da. I love her. I should want only her.”

“Sasha,” Declan began, taking his son’s hands in his. “Your head…and your heart…and your sexuality are all telling you different things. You love Skye, yes, that’s what your heart says. But your head is telling you that she’s too young to have those kinds of feelings. It wouldn’t be right for you to want her that way. Not now.”

Thank God, Declan thought. He really didn’t give Sasha nearly as much credit as he should. He was far more mature than even Sey realized.

“As for your body, Sasha…your body wants only one thing right now. To find release. It doesn’t care who or what or if it’s love, kiddo.”

Declan looked thoughtful. “If I could tell you just one thing, Sasha, it would be this. You can have sex with someone you don’t love. It might even feel pretty good. I won’t lie to you. But it’ll never ever feel anything like making love to someone you’re in love with.”

Sasha’s face suddenly cleared. “Then I’m going to wait for Skye, Da. I want it to mean something.”

“Then it will, kiddo.” Declan pulled Sasha into his arms and hugged him as tightly as he could. “You are such a good kid. You know that?”

“Oh, Da…” Sasha groaned in mock protest.

“Thanks for the Christmas present, kiddo.”

“Just so you don’t expect me to wait another five or six years before I…uh…you know….”

Declan made an impolite noise. “You’ll try your damnedest, though, won’t you, Sasha?”

“Is that an order?”

Declan pondered, a curious smile twitching his lips. “Aye, I think it is, kiddo.”

“That makes it easier being me, Da. Thanks,” quipped Sasha dryly.

It started out innocently enough. Neil wasn’t looking for a woman. Or an affair. He loved his wife. But loving Maddy had become increasingly difficult.

Her manner distant, even cool, Madeline surrounded herself with what she considered to be perfection. Though she was, of course, an expert in the psychiatric field, she was curiously remiss in diagnosing herself. She clung to this unrealistic idea of perfection as a way of dealing with her fears and anxieties: about being a good mother, about being a good wife.

Maddy didn’t see her own insecurity, her own vulnerability. She hid behind a carefully-constructed façade, a set of defense mechanisms that represented the persona that Walter would have dubbed The Ice Queen. It was a persona that those who were in Section were well familiar with. Though they would never have perceived it for the weakness it was.

They didn’t argue. The disturbing lack of intensity that pervaded their relationship wouldn’t let them. Instead they merely drifted further and further apart.

Neil felt invisible. He could live without the physical act of love, but his emotional needs were going unmet. He grew sad. And it was a sadness that he couldn’t keep from his children.

He didn’t want to hurt them. Any of them. But he felt as though he had been cut adrift in a sea of overwhelming cold, the temperature rapidly chilling him to the bone. His soul was dying, and he knew it. But he could no more leave Maddy than fly.

A sigh escaped him. He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying desperately to focus on the task at hand. Oddly enough, his practice was doing well enough that he could afford to take time off. Indulge himself. Take up a hobby. Get to know his kids better. Kids who often seemed just as inexplicably sad as he.

The computer was a Christmas gift from the Samuelles. He planned to use it to search for new and interesting medical articles. But on days like today, when the loneliness became too much to bear, he went to the Internet chatrooms. Looking for company.

And he found it.

***

“Age/sex?” flashed across his monitor screen.

Neil laughed softly. No matter which chatroom he ended up in, the questions always started out this way.

“Too old. Disgustingly male,” he typed.

He watched as the words appeared on the screen, thinking naively that his Net sobriquet, MidniteCowboy, would identify him only as someone who loved the Old West.

“What about you?” he queried. He was in a chatroom for adults. He had no patience for kids who shouted in CAPS or indulged their penchant for bad language. He was quite simply looking for a friend. Nothing more.

“Old enough to know better. Revoltingly female,” came the reply.

A moment later, they were chatting like best friends. He liked this particular Net buddy right away. In fact, if he had been thinking straight, he would have realized that he was dangerously attracted to another woman.

But he wasn’t.

They began meeting regularly. Neil found himself looking for her online every night. Suddenly Madeline’s aloof attitude didn’t consume his every waking moment anymore. He felt…almost free.

In truth, he was falling in love.

Which was a damned sight more frightening than if Neil had simply had an affair. Sex was one thing. Love was…quite another.

***

She seemed well-educated. Every bit as much as he was. It was a pleasure to talk to her. He soon found himself bouncing ideas off her, and she seemed more than willing to listen. If it had stopped there…things might have been different.

But there was more.

She wasn’t just intelligent. She had a vibrancy that was missing from his wife. Madeline no longer knew what enthusiasm was.

Madeline no longer knew what sex was.

She had neglected her husband far too long. And now she would pay dearly.

***

Neil closed the door to his study, feeling vaguely self-conscious about locking it. But he knew that he often became…involved…when he was online. He lost track of time when he was chatting with MidnightRider. At first, that was what attracted him to her. The similarity in their screennames had drawn them together. But it was the almost palpable chemistry between them that kept them coming back.

He felt excitement thrum throughout his body. Neil had been depressed for so long, he didn’t immediately recognize the feeling for what it was. But now he knew. It was desire.

He wanted her. His MidnightRider.

Maybe tonight would be the night.

He had heard about cybersex. How anonymous it was. How unfulfilling. How addictive. How potentially damaging it could be to a marriage.

He wanted to try it.

With her.

But much to his amazement…she made the first move.

***

“Mmm…would you like to touch me, Cowboy?”

God, yes. He wished she was here. “Yes.”

He could swear he heard a throaty chuckle echo forth from the computer. “Let’s go to a private room.”

Once there, things escalated quickly. “What do you look like, Rider?”

“Long dark hair. Dark eyes.”

Neil winced. He thought of Maddy, and then he forced himself to put her out of his mind. She had no place here.

“Are you touching yourself, Cowboy?”

The thought hadn’t occurred to Neil. Suddenly he realized that this could in fact be every bit as real as he wished it was.

Yes,” he typed. Then he made it true.

One hand on the keyboard, one hand secreted between his legs. Just gently rubbing at first.

“Make love to me, Cowboy.”

“How?”

“Talk to me.”

So he did. He disrobed her in his mind, trying not to see his wife there, disapproving mouth set firmly in a moue of disgust.

“Touch me. I want to feel your hands on me.”

In his head, he went there. He went to a place where there were just the two of them. They were alone. In the forest. She was tall and slender. Brunette. Leaning against a tree. The hem of her dress was caught by the wind, and it flew way above the knee, exposing her thighs.

He moved closer, settling himself between her legs, his erection straining the fabric of his jeans. She protested that he was wearing too many clothes. He obliged by taking them off.

Her breasts fit neatly into his palms. He pushed a bit more roughly at her dress, raising it enough to uncover the dark triangle at the top of her thighs. Shielded only by the most sheer pair of panties he had ever fantasized about, she was lovely.

The gauzy material ripped easily in one hand.

Pulling one of her legs around his waist, he opened the entrance to the center of her being. Unable to resist the pull of that welcoming heat, he thrust deeply inside her, seating himself comfortably that quickly. Her breath hissed between straight white teeth, her pink tongue flicking out to moisten dark red lips.

“Ride me, Cowboy.”

He did.

***

Neil could no longer type. He was in the throes of the most delicious climax he had experienced in years.

It went on and on and on. He came inside her, his hot essence filling her, spilling from her. It had been so long. So long.

Semen spattered her thighs. Those slender but muscular thighs that even now held him trapped within her.

“Don’t go yet, Cowboy.”

He had to.

Neil dropped his gaze from the computer to his lap. His jeans were wet. This was one fantasy that had some basis in reality.

He typed “Good Night”, but MidnightRider had the last word.

“I think I love you, Cowboy.”

Oh, shit. I think I love you, too.

Neil buried his face in his hands. Thank God the door was still locked. He sat there for several seconds, unable to really move, trying to calm his thundering heart. OhGodOhGodOhGod, his mind kept repeating. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t physically transgressed the line. His heart was stricken by guilt so powerful, he felt he might never resurface, much less recover. This couldn’t happen again.

It was bad enough that it happened at all, but it could never happen again. MaddyMaddyMaddy, his mind took up a new chant. I love you. Only you. I don’t know why I thought this would be okay. It didn’t happen by accident. I don’t even have the excuse of getting carried away.

I did this. I chose this. And now my marriage is broken beyond repair. How can I face her? How can I tell her? I can’t keep this from her. She’ll see it written across my face the moment she looks at me.

A knock sounded at the door, and Neil jumped, startled as much by his own reaction as by the sound itself. He swiped at both cheeks, suddenly realizing he’d been crying without even knowing. There was no time to pull himself together, and it didn’t matter anyway. Whoever it was…would know something was very wrong.

Belatedly aware that his jeans still showed the evidence of what happened, he flushed dark red. There was no way to get past the person at the door without being seen. And hiding was hardly an option.

“Dad?”

Neil breathed a small sigh of relief. It was his son. Connor. All things considered, it was better this way. If it were Maddy or Kady, he didn’t know what he would do differently, but it would be worse.

He unlocked the door and stepped back, unable to make eye contact with Connor. Connor was growing rapidly. Now taller and leaner than he had been, Connor was beginning to resemble his Samuelle “cousin”, Chris, even more than before. Still relatively introspective, Connor was nonetheless very perceptive with other people’s feelings, especially his father’s. He didn’t want to blame his mother for the way things changed after Kady was born, but he couldn’t help but see how her need to control, her need to make things, and people, perfect, was responsible for skewing the family dynamics.

“Daddy?” He could see the traces of tears on his father’s face. Far from calling him weak, Connor constantly wondered how Neil stayed so strong and so positive for him and Kady. It was obvious that he was unhappy, and Connor was convinced that his mother was at fault.

“Did Mom do this?”

Neil winced. “No, Conn. I screwed up this time. All on my own.”

“But it’s Mom’s fault, Daddy. She doesn’t love us anymore.”

“That’s not true,” Neil automatically responded. “I’m sure she loves…*you*.” Neil didn’t even register the way he emphasized Connor, leaving himself totally out of the equation.

Connor picked up on that immediately. “You think Mom doesn’t love you anymore, Daddy?” he asked with the ingenuousness of youth.

Tears sprung into Neil’s eyes upon hearing Connor voice his deepest, darkest fear. “I-I’m afraid so, Conn,” he managed to whisper. “It’s not your fault. Or Kady’s. Sometimes it just happens.”

“You still love her, though, don’t you?”

“God, yes.” Neil didn’t care that this was his 11-year old son. He often talked to Connor as if they were friends as well as family. Connor needed the extra attention, and to be fair, so did he.

But he was ever cognizant of the line that could not be crossed. He never confessed anything that would be considered inappropriate. A friend was one thing, a confidante another. He would never force Connor or Kady to take sides. His home would not become a battle zone. He would make certain of that.

“You’re not going to let her get a divorce, are you, Daddy?”

Suddenly Neil paled. He felt sick. He couldn’t stay in that room a moment longer. Brushing past his son, he raced down the hall and into the bathroom, just in time to throw up.

Divorce? Divorce? OhGodOhGodOhGod. The litany returned. Full force. He sank to his knees on the carpet in front of the toilet, his head down, and wrapped his arms around himself.

What was he going to do?

***

Connor walked slowly to the low wall that separated the Hunter and the Samuelle properties. He sat down on the cold, hard stone surface, finding it somehow fitting that it felt so uncomfortable. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he rested his cheek on them.

I’m not going to cry. There’s nothing to cry about. I’m not sad anyway. I’m…I’m…what am I?

His nostrils flaring suddenly, his mind finally grasped what his body was trying to tell him. “I’m not sad. I’m angry,” he said aloud, almost shocked by the way that particular insight resonated within him.

“Yeah?” came the unexpected intrusion. With a loud sigh, Faith initially straddled the stone wall, smoothly segueing into a lotus position. “What are you angry about?”

“Since when do you care?” Connor asked bitterly. It wasn’t Faith’s fault that she didn’t consider him her soulmate anymore. He knew that. In his head. But his heart couldn’t forgive her. It made remaining best friends…difficult.

Faith shrugged, but her changeable grey-green eyes reflected hurt for a second. She still cared about Connor. Honest.

She plucked at the grass absently. “Maybe you’d feel better if you talked about it.”

“Maybe you’d feel better if you stayed on your side of the wall, Fee.”

“You are angry, Pooh.”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped. Just the sound of that beloved nickname on her lips made him want to grind his teeth together.

She reached out to ruffle his dark blond hair, and he shuddered at her touch, shaking off her hand moments later. “Don’t touch me.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, you’re not. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Faith waited all of two seconds before launching a new offensive. “Aw, come on, Connor, talk to me. You know you’re going to tell me anyway,” she whined, trying her best to wheedle the information out of him.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” he shouted.

“Well, what’s so damn important that you can’t talk about it? Huh?” That indignant tone worked so often for Faith, it couldn’t really be considered a conscious attempt to manipulate. It was just part of her personality.

“I think my parents are going to get a freaking divorce!” Connor exploded, his anger increasing exponentially with the loudness of his voice.

Dead silence.

Faith looked aghast. Whatever she expected Connor to say…that wasn’t even close. “Shit, Pooh.” The expletive and the nickname just dropped from her lips without thinking. She was stunned.

“I-I…damn.”

“What?”

They both turned at the sound of the quavering soprano voice. Oh, God, thought Connor. Kady.

“Kady!”

The heartbroken little girl’s face crumpled. “Mommy and Daddy can’t get a divorce! They can’t! They can’t!”

Connor leaped off the top of the stone wall, but Kady was too fast for him. Racing across the lawn, she flew into the house, slamming the back door behind her.

“Shit, Fee! Now look what you did!”

“What I did? Listen, Pooh—“

“I told you not to call me that, Fee! In fact, don’t call me anything ever again! Stay the hell away from me and my little sister, okay?” He strode furiously away for a few paces, then stopped. “And don’t talk to me at school either! I never want to see you again! Ever!”

Faith’s eyes narrowed, as if she were assessing a target. “Be careful what you wish for, Connor! You might regret it!”

“The only thing I regret right now is that I thought I loved you, Fee!”

Her lower lip trembled suspiciously. “Don’t say that, Connor.”

“I hate you, Faith!” Connor spat. “Don’t you ever come near me again. I mean it.”

***

He hoped he would be in time. He prayed he would be. “Kady?”

He heard the sound of retching, and he vaulted up the stairs two at a time, his feet thudding at the top of the landing. Kady’s bedroom door was open. He pushed it to the wall very gently, listening to the creak that it made. The hinges needed to be oiled.

“Kady? Are you in here?”

Connor was nothing if not protective of his little sister. It was a paradox that was lost on him. She was both the cause of his pain and the innocent victim of his mother’s unwitting ambitions.

He saw her now. Kneeling on the floor. Spitting into the toilet. She was a very emotional little girl. He had always felt that. But this was different. Darker. More…scary.

If he could borrow one of his mother’s ten dollar psychological terms, he would almost say it felt pathological.

If he knew what it meant.

She finished retching and drew her legs under her. It was as if she were trying to make herself as small as possible. Or invisible.

“Kady, are you all right?”

She started to sob, great heartwrenching sobs that shook her tiny frame, and Connor briefly wondered how any five-year old could know enough sadness to shake with such intensity.

She latched onto Connor like he was her lifeline, and he held her as tight as he could, murmuring nonsense syllables to soothe her anguished soul.

“Kady, Kady, it’s not your fault!”

“It is! I try to be a good girl! But it’s not enough! Mommy wants me to be better! And better!”

“You are a good girl, Kady. You are.”

“I don’t want them to get a divorce, Connor,” she wailed.

She threaded her slender fingers through Connor’s thick dark blond hair, clenching a strand almost painfully tight. “I don’t want to leave Daddy.”

“You don’t have to, Kady. Listen—“

She hiccupped. Her dark brown eyes looked black now. It was amazing that someone in such dire straits could look so heartstoppingly beautiful.

“They can’t make us do anything, Kady. I promise.”

“Good,” she pronounced. “Cause I don’t want to live with Mommy.”

A sharp gasp rent the air.

Connor’s eyes met his mother’s. He could almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

Madeline didn’t wait for Connor to say anything. She backed out of the room as quickly as she’d come in. Hurtling down the hall to her bedroom, she literally threw herself through the door in a curiously graceless gesture for a woman like her. Leaning back against the door, she clapped both hands over her mouth. It was the wake-up call from Hell.

Not only was she stunned to learn that her husband planned to divorce her, but she couldn’t believe that the kids knew before she did. What did I do? she cried inwardly, lost for the first time in years. Out of touch with her true feelings for too long, Madeline was amazed to discover that she was silently weeping. I don’t weep. Other women weep. Tears are for the weak. I’m not weak. I’m…

…losing my husband and my kids. They want to stay with Neil. Both of them. They don’t…love me. That isn’t fair. I devoted myself to making their lives…*perfect*…and this is the thanks I get. I get…*nothing*. They get…*each other*.

She closed her eyes and held onto her anger for a few more seconds before coming to the realization that three against one meant something significant. The logic that ruled her mind and her life demanded that she pay attention. How can you be right, Madeline? How likely is it that all three of them are wrong about you?

Faceitfaceitfaceit. There is truth here. Staring you in the face. “Oh, my God….” Madeline opened her eyes and caught her breath on a sob. “Neil.”

***

Neil came out of the bathroom slowly, not realizing that Madeline was in their bedroom. He had taken off the offending jeans as well as his shorts before showering. He pulled the length of the towel over his wet hair, covering his face, which was why he didn’t notice that his wife was studying his nude body with more than her usual interest.

“Neil?” she croaked hoarsely, her voice a shattered remnant of her normal elegant tones.

He dropped the towel with a sharp cry. “Maddy!”

She pushed herself off the door, approaching her husband with both uncharacteristic haste and the awkward movements of an inexperienced girl.

“Neil, I know.”

He turned ashen. “You do?” He bent to pick up the towel, feeling positively compelled to cover himself now.

“Yes,” she admitted tearfully.

“Maddy, I…uh…I don’t know what to say.”

“Neil, I don’t want a divorce.”

“You don’t?” He sounded surprised if not exactly hopeful.

“No.” A puzzled frown marred her beautiful face. “Why? Do you want one?”

“God, no, Maddy.” That sounded genuine. Neil’s reaction continued to bother Madeline, but she was too grateful to look a gift horse in the mouth.

***

Faith slammed the refrigerator door closed. She stomped over to the counter, poured out a cold glass of milk, and then put the milk container back into the refrigerator with a force that caused its contents to slosh over the top.

Nikita watched her daughter carefully without speaking. Eventually Faith noticed her mother’s scrutiny. “What?”

Nikita shook her head. “Something bothering you, Fee?”

“No. Yes. It’s just—some people have no idea how to act, y’know?”

Nikita nodded slowly, though she had absolutely no idea what Faith meant. “And this is because…?”

Faith raised the glass to her lips and swallowed, looking for all the world like milk couldn’t fill the emptiness inside her. “Connor.” Her voice broke. “He said terrible things, Mom. Things I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”

“Why?”

“I…um….”

“Did you provoke him, Fee?” The unspoken message was, You know how you get.

“Nooo…not really. Well, maybe a little bit.” Faith looked terribly conflicted. In the usual course of a day, Faith rarely second-guessed herself. There was simply no percentage in it.

But the thought of losing Connor made her stop and think. “I think he was…really upset, Mom.”

“By you?”

“Not exactly. I think I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“What did he say?”

“That his…parents…are getting…a divorce, Mom. Is that true?”

Nikita’s mouth dropped open slightly. “Excuse me? Neil and Madeline? Getting a divorce?”

Michael came into the kitchen, a half-eaten cookie in one hand. “Who’s getting a divorce, Kita?”

“Neil and Madeline.”

Michael frowned. “You’re kidding. It’s not like Neil to give up.”

Nikita stared at her husband. “You knew things were bad?”

Michael shrugged. “We talk once in a while. Neil and me.”

“Did you give him the idea, Michael?”

Michael blinked. “Why would I tell him to divorce Madeline?”

“You don’t like her. You never did. Even though she helped both of us through some desperate times.”

Michael considered that. “I don’t like her. That much is true, Kita. But I would never wish for her marriage to fall apart. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“Oh, Michael, what are we going to do?”

“Why do we have to do anything, doucette? It’s none of our business.”

“They’re friends. Family. Michael…”

He sighed. “Don’t, Kita. It has nothing to do with us.”

“Daddy!”

Faith’s outraged voice brought Michael up short. He had been so intensely focused on what Nikita was saying that he barely registered his daughter’s presence.

“You have to do something! Connor already hates me cause I made him blurt out that his parents are getting a divorce! Kady heard what he said, and he blamed me for making her cry! He says he’s never going to speak to me again, Daddy! And you know what?” Faith drew a ragged breath at the end of her lengthy speech, finally betraying her own vested interest in what happened next.

“I believe him!”

Michael glanced at his wife. “We shouldn’t get involved in this, doucette.”

“That’s never stopped us before, Michael,” she reminded him with a grin.

***

It felt good to hold his wife again. If only he didn’t feel so incredibly guilty. Moment after advantageous moment passed, leaving Neil tongue-tied at the same time that he dreamed of being able to turn things around.

“Maddy?” he whispered against her ear. They had made love for the first time in months, their bodies still able to express what their hearts felt and their minds couldn’t quite grasp.

She stretched with feline grace, her polished nails drumming rhythmically on his chest. Looking intently into his dark blue eyes, she said, “Yes, Neil, I still love you.”

“How did you know what I was going to ask?”

“How did you know exactly what to do to bring me back to my senses?”

“I love you, Maddy.”

“But--?”

All at once, Neil averted his gaze, unable to look his wife in the eye. “But we need to do better. Much better. We’re hurting the kids now. I think you’re beginning to see how much.”

Madeline nodded, her dark brown eyes suddenly tragic. “I never meant for that to happen, Neil. I love both of them. So much.”

His hands intertwined with hers, seemingly of their own volition. “Then come to counseling with me, Maddy. We need to work on this together. Not apart.”

“Will we be all right, Neil?” Madeline had never looked more vulnerable in her life. “I don’t want to lose you.”

He buried his face against the side of her neck. “I don’t want to lose you either, Maddy. Just the thought…kills me.”

But what about your secret, Neil? He tried desperately to shush the voice inside his head, clamoring to shout the truth and be done with it, damning the consequences.

Shut up! he told the voice. Shut up! I want to stay with my wife. That other woman…MidnightRider…she doesn’t even exist. Not really.

It never happened. If I have to take this secret to my grave, I will.

But what about your feelings for her, Neil? that little voice continued. You said it yourself. You thought you were falling in love with her. Did all that just…go away?

I’ll never contact her again. I swear.

But what if she contacts you, Neil? She said she was falling in love with you, too. What if she tracks you down and comes here? What if she tries to come between you and Maddy?

Who are you going to choose then, Neil?