"She's fine, the kids are good. The twins are in sixth grade and Mike Jr. starts college next year," Mike said proudly.

"That's great." Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Morrison watching us. "I better get back to work. It was nice seeing you again."

"You too, Doc."

"Tell Mary and the kids I said hello." I waved goodbye.

I watched as Mike Zucco's hulking frame lumbered through the automatic doors. Although his appearance could be intimidating, Mike was a sweet guy. If he had an opinion regarding the reason Sean and I divorced, he never let on about it, nor did it seem to bother him that his friend's ex-wife was now a lesbian. I wish I could say that about more people.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

Twelve thirty came and went. As I watched the end of Saturday Night Live, I felt myself doze off. The door buzzer rang, sending me bolting off the couch and over to the intercom. I pressed the button.

"Who is it?" I asked, still foggy from sleep.

"Regan. Is it too late to come up?"

I pushed the button to unlock the door. I could hear Regan's footfalls as she climbed the three flights of stairs to my apartment and wondered if being here brought back memories for her like it did for me. In fact, my heart fluttered at that very moment, and I could hardly wait for her to step in the door. Finally, there she was. The woman of my dreams for so many years.

"Hi," she said, her smile warm. "I was afraid it might be too late." She closed the door behind her.

I looked over at the clock on the VCR: two fifteen in the morning. "How did you get out of the house at this hour?" I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"I waited until Jim fell asleep. I left him a note telling him I was going to the hospital to see Tess."

"Aren't you afraid he'll wake up and come looking for you?"

She shook her head. "He's had so much to drink he probably won't wake up until noon."

An awkward silence hung between us as we stood in the living room precisely in the same spot where our relationship started. This was the same room where we slow danced in bare feet to Madonna and couldn't keep our hands off each other.

"Can I get you something to drink?" I asked, breaking the silence. Unable to bear the tension.

"That would be nice." Regan walked over and sat on the couch. "What do you have?"

I opened the refrigerator knowing that I had stopped off at the 7-11 on the way home and restocked my supply of Diet Coke. I had also picked up a six-pack of Seagram's Citrus Wine Coolers, Regan's favorite. Not only were they Regan's drink of choice, I had a sentimental attachment to them, too. Regan and I used to drink them during our courtship. They were liquid courage for us in the beginning, when our whole beings were filled with desire but neither one of us knew what to do with it. Her choice of drinks always gave me a sign as to how the evening would go. If she chose Diet Coke, I knew there would be no sex that night. But if she chose a wine cooler, I knew that a passionate night lay ahead.

"I have Diet Coke and Seagram's wine coolers," I shouted from the kitchen.

"Wine cooler, please" came from the direction of the couch.

My insides tingled as I pulled two bottles from the rack, popped off both tops, and went into the living room to join Regan.

"Boy, it's been a long time since I had one of these," Regan said, taking a long pull. "Ah...that's so good."

I took a sip, too. The sharp citrus taste flooded my mouth.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" Regan said as she took another sip.

I nodded, wiping my lips with the back of my hand.

Regan and I sat on the couch. The only light in the room came from a distant street light across the parking lot. We talked well into the night as she answered my questions about why she left, how she left, and where she went. She said the night Sean found out about our relationship, she went home hysterical and confided in her mother about our relationship. Her mother was so distraught over the fact that her daughter was a lesbian, an abomination in the eyes of God, that she sent Regan away. She sent her down to Charleston, West Virginia, with a suitcase full of clothes and one hundred dollars in cash to spend time with her aunt, who was supposed to drum some Christian sense into her. Regan stayed at her aunt's home and was required to attend church services with her every day to chase the demons of lust out of her heart. Regan's aunt also set her up with a Christian counselor who told Regan he could cure her of her homosexual affliction, but it would take many hours of work at two hundred ten dollars an hour.

"After the third counseling session, I never went back," Regan said. "It was getting too weird. He'd stand right over me, so close I could feel his cigarette breath on my neck. And then he'd ask me the same thing over and over, about what we did sexually. He'd ask me to go into detail about who did what to who and how things felt. He said it was necessary for him to know every detail or else he couldn't help me, couldn't extract the demons inside of me if he didn't know exactly what acts fueled the demons' lust, and I wouldn't be saved. After that, he'd make me get down on the floor on my hands and knees and pray out loud for God's forgiveness. While I prayed, he'd leave the room. When he came back, he'd look different...all disheveled. I don't know, but it gave me the creeps."

"Nice. You trust this guy and tell him your most intimate experiences and he leaves the room to get his rocks off. That guy sounds like a real perv."

"I know, just the thought of what he was doing in the other room makes my skin crawl."

"I've heard of therapists like that but never came in contact with one. How terrible that must have been for you."

Regan nodded. "The only thing that really saved me was going to work. I got a job at a small hospital in Charleston that offered to pay a portion of my tuition to nursing school, helping me to get my RN degree."

"I'm glad you continued your education. I always thought you were a good nurse."

"I know," Regan said. She lowered her gaze. A blush like a shadow touched her cheeks.

"So what happened after graduation?" I asked, aware of Regan's growing uneasiness.

"I transferred from the general medical floor up to the intensive care unit. I got a big pay raise and was able to work only three twelve-hour shifts a week. It was great. With the pay increase, I was able to move out of my aunt's house and into my own apartment." Regan's face beamed with pride. Then suddenly, her expression changed. "I was really feeling good about myself, but something was missing. Even though I didn't want to admit it, it was lonely being way from home."

"So what did you do?"

"I tried to bury myself in my work. I'd work extra shifts and the money was great. It seemed the most sensible thing to do. But the feeling of loneliness wouldn't disappear," Regan said. A look of tired sadness swept over her features. She breathed in deeply, then let out a heavy sigh before she continued. "Then six months after graduation, I met Jim at a church picnic for singles that my aunt had dragged me to. Jim seemed like a nice guy and a good Christian man. He was shy at first and very good looking, so when he asked me out, I went. Another reason I went out with him was to prove to myself that I wasn't gay." Regan looked down, uneasy in her own comment.

"I see." I took a swallow of my wine cooler. "So what did you find out?" Regan didn't answer right away.

"Jim was very patient with me. We dated for two months before anything happened sexually," Regan said.

That was pretty admirable, I thought, but didn't say anything. I didn't want to dissuade Regan from telling her story.

Regan looked down at her hands, which were knotted in her lap. I could tell this wasn't easy for her.

"But being with him that way wasn't what I thought it was supposed to be like."

I felt a tiny kick in my heart and found it hard to suppress a knowing smile. I was thankful the room was still dim.

"It was more or less something I thought would get better over time," she continued. "And it did, I guess. But there just wasn't any-"

"Spark? Chemistry?" I interjected.

"No," Regan said, her voice barely audible. "No spark."

Regan's gaze met mine. I could still see pain flicker there.

"Then why did you stay with him if you weren't happy?"

"I honestly thought things would change. That I didn't give our relationship the chance it deserved. So I stuck it out determined to make it right, but by the time the holidays were over, I knew Jim and I were over, too," Regan said. "So at the end of January, I broke up with him. I gave him the 'it's not you, it's me' speech. He was devastated, but I had to tell him the truth. It wasn't fair for me to hold onto him if in my heart I knew this would never work out."

"I don't get it," I said, confused. "You gave it your best shot, it wasn't working out, you broke it off with him, and so you got married?"

"Last Valentine's Day, Jim surprised me at work. He showed up at the ICU nurse's station with a dozen red roses. He asked me to meet him after work for a drink. He said that just because we weren't seeing each other didn't mean we had to spend Valentine's Day alone. He looked so sad and dejected. I couldn't turn him down. So after work, I met him at the corner bar where he liked to hang out. When I got there, I could tell he'd already had a few. I thought to myself I'll have one drink, then feign tiredness and make my exit. But it didn't work out that way."

"What happened?" I asked, tucking my legs underneath me on the couch.

"Jim wouldn't hear of me leaving after only one drink. After three Cosmopolitans, I felt pretty woozy and didn't feel safe to drive home. So Jim took my car keys and drove me to my apartment. Once we got there, he insisted on helping me inside. I turned to thank him, and the next thing I knew, he was all over me. I don't remember much of it, just that he had me pinned to the floor and was on top of me. He pulled my nursing uniform up over my hips. He stuck his hand in the waistband of my pantyhose and yanked them off, practically shredding them. Then I felt him enter me. After a few quick thrusts, it was all over." Regan paused and looked at me with a sad smile. "Unfortunately, we didn't use any protection. You know the rest."

Anger bubbled up inside of me. I hadn't liked that guy to begin with, but now I really didn't like him. I was shocked at what Regan was telling me. Shock yielded quickly to fury.

"Regan, he raped you!" I blurted out the words before I could stifle them.

Regan looked down, ashamed. I reached over and touched her arm.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you. You deserve better than this...much better."

Regan nodded solemnly.

"What were you thinking marrying him?"

"It was the respectable thing to do."

"Respectable thing? A man who rapes you doesn't deserve any respect."

Regan looked down. It was clear that the misery of that night still haunted her.

"It wasn't his respectability I was concerned about at the time. I was pregnant, Mina. What else was I going to do?" Regan looked up at me; her eyes were red rimmed with fatigue.

"Nothing, there is nothing you could have done."

"I had to do the right thing," Regan said. I don't know whether she was trying to convince me or herself of that fact.

"I know you did," I said. But the thoughts that went through my mind said that sometimes what we think is the right thing to do may not be after all.

"After that night, I didn't see Jim for several weeks. He kept calling and leaving messages on my answer machine apologizing for what he did, but I never returned his calls. I didn't want to see him again, not after what happened."

It was obvious that Regan needed to tell me the whole story, so I let her.

"One day, I was two weeks late getting my period. I was working the morning shift in the unit and was doing trache care on a patient, something that had never bothered me before, but all of the sudden, I was overtaken by a huge wave of nausea. I barely made it to the patient's bathroom, where I vomited the entire contents of my stomach. I felt better afterward and figured I was just coming down with a bug. Well, the next morning, I was fine until dietary brought up the patients' breakfast trays. Once I got a whiff of that buttered toast and Cream of Wheat, wham, off I went to puke again."

"Oh, my God, you poor thing," I said, thankful I never had to experience the horrors of morning sickness.

"I guess in my heart I knew what was going on. I just didn't want to admit it because the last thing I wanted was a baby," Regan said. "Especially a baby with Jim as the father. I finally got up the courage to go to the drugstore and buy a home pregnancy test. The entire time I sat on the edge of my bathtub and waited for the results, I prayed to God that it wouldn't be true. But then, right before my eyes, that little white stick turned blue."

"You must have felt so alone."

Regan nodded. She leaned her head against the couch cushion and closed her eyes. "At first, I wasn't going to tell him about the baby. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought it wouldn't be fair to the baby to have to grow up and not know its father. So I told him."

"How did he take the news?"

"He was ecstatic. Asked me right then and there to marry him. Said he would do right by us, me and the baby," Regan said. "I really thought things would work out then. Jim seemed really dedicated. A few weeks later, Jim moved into my apartment and we started getting the place ready for the baby. Things were good for a while. Then Jim got laid off from his job at the stamping plant. He couldn't find a job right away, which left him home alone all day while I worked. That's when he started drinking more. He went from a beer or two in the afternoon to a twelve-pack every night. It seemed that drinking was all he did from morning to night. When we moved back here, I thought he'd do better, you know a fresh start...I guess I was wrong."

Regan put her arms over her head and stretched. "My gosh, it seems like we've been sitting here for hours." She tried to stifle a yawn. "My body has been so stiff lately. I think it's all the stress. I need to stretch." She stood, now bending and twisting at the waist.

"Here, stretch out, I can move down." I slid to the end of the couch.

Regan sat back down and stretched out her long legs, resting her well-manicured feet in my lap. Instinctively, I took her feet in my hands and began massaging them.

"Mmm, that feels so good," Regan purred, relaxing into the massage. She tossed back her head and closed her eyes. Her soft moans were affecting me in a way I was no stranger to.

"You know I always thought you had magic hands," Regan said with a little laugh.

I couldn't suppress a smile.

Silver streams of first light filtered in through the slats of the blinds in the living room. Regan finished her fourth wine cooler and set the empty bottle on the coffee table.

I continued the foot massage, then extended it to include Regan's tight calves.

"Oh, my God," Regan moaned, lying flat on her back now, arms extended, surrendering to my touch. I worked on her legs a while, kneading tight knots from her calf muscles.

"Turn over," I commanded. "I'll do your back if you'd like."

I didn't have to ask Regan twice. She flipped onto her stomach in a flash. I looked down at her. I blinked to make sure this was indeed real and not a dream. Regan tucked her head to the side and hugged one of the throw pillows. I sat on the floor next to the couch and slowly kneaded the tight muscles in her shoulders and neck.

"My God, you're tight," I said as I massaged Regan's shoulders, then moved down to her mid- then lower back.

In the dim morning light, Regan lay there peacefully, eyes closed with a smile on her lips. This was as relaxed as I had seen her since her return. I continued with the massage, working my way down Regan's back, kneading and rubbing the thin layer of muscle that draped her ribs. Using a technique we were taught in nursing school, I ran my hands up both sides of Regan's back, then grasped both trapezius muscles and slowly and methodically, worked the muscles that I knew simultaneously moved her pectoris muscles, manipulating her breast.

Regan let out another soft moan, which shot through me like a bolt of electrical current. I didn't know how much longer I could keep this up without removing both of our clothes and making love to her right here. I yearned to caress Regan's soft skin, instead of her clothing. I composed myself and got my hormones back in check. I continued with the massage. My hands glided over Regan's back and down her hips, exploring the soft lines of her waist and hips. I kneaded her thighs, taking each leg in my hands and rolling the muscles until they loosened. Slowly, I moved my hands up the inside of Regan's thighs. She opened her legs wider, allowing me more access. My heart pounded with excitement. I slid my hand underneath her pelvis. Regan raised her hips to accommodate my hand, silently giving me permission to continue. Heat radiated through the crotch of her cotton pants. I massaged her in circular motions, feeling in my hand the heat of her arousal. Regan ground her pelvis into my hand. Her moans coincided with the rhythm of our movement. I could feel she was getting closer and closer to release. Regan's body began to vibrate with liquid fire. Her release was pure and explosive.

"Oh, my God," Regan said, her voice muffled by the pillow. Her breathing had not yet subsided. She collapsed, limp as a rag doll.

My heart hammered just at the sight of her. "You okay?" I gently stroked her back.

Regan nodded into the pillow. She turned over and threw her arms around my neck, pulling me down on top of her. "I've missed you so much, Mina." Regan held me close. "I've tried to forget about you and what we had together, but I can't," she said with her bright blue eyes clear and direct on my face. Regan held me as if she were afraid to let me go. Her Avon Soft Musk perfume brought back even more memories of another time, and I felt my insides begin to stir.

"This feels so good," she said, her voice a low murmur. "I always felt so safe in your arms."

I lay next to her and pulled her close and our bodies pressed together. She did feel different to me, softer, more Rubenesque, than the hard lean Regan I remembered holding, coveting, craving. I guess that's what pregnancy does to a body.

Our first kiss in five years was soft and familiar, yet new and exciting. Our kisses became more fervent as Regan's sweet tongue sent shivers of desire racing though me. She took my hand and placed it on her breast. Her nipple hardened against my palm. Her breast was heavy with milk. Instinctively, I ran my thumb over her rock hard nipple. A soft moan escaped her lips. The passion in my groin grew hotter by the minute. Regan slid her cool hand inside the front of my jeans. Her touch was divine ecstasy.

"My, my, my," Regan said, feeling the flood of wet heat. She plunged one, then two fingers inside of me. My body began to vibrate, hungry for release.