"I can't."
Marc sighed, eyes on her face. "Because you owe him."
Angela shook her head, choosing to give him complete honesty, whether he was ready to hear it or not. "Not anymore. When he left me out here to fend for myself - hoping I couldn't, that I wouldn't - that cancelled our deal more than anything else he's done."
"Then why?"
"It's hard to explain. I'm going for my son, but there's something else that's pulling at me too, at the other side of me. I dream a lot. I'm sure you know."
He knew very well. The nightmares had come less often, but when they did, they seemed worse. Twice, she'd woken him up screaming about a metal monster.
"I see a refugee camp most nights, and it's full of people. Our kind of people and they need help. I want to belong there. I want us to be a part of that protection."
There wasn't a lot Marc could say. Being alone with her was great, but it couldn't stay this way. "In the same group as your man? Don't you think that's asking a little much?"
She stuck a cigarette in her mouth. "Of course it is. For now, our son's all that matters, anyway. We'll handle it as it comes."
"Remember the night we made him?" Marc hadn't meant to say it out loud and was relieved to see her blush rather than get scared or mad.
"No, not so much."
"Ouch. That hurts." He feigned being crushed, aware that he really felt it - he'd thought of little else during sex for the last fifteen years.
Her eyes softened a bit. "Don't ask questions unless…"
"…you're prepared to hear the answer," he finished, laughing with her.
"We could talk about it," Marc teased. "Maybe you'd recall."
"No need to."
"So you do?" Marc watched her eyes turn a smoky, midnight blue and tensed.
Angela was unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "All the time, at first, Brady. I'd think about you, and I'd wonder what raven-haired, blue-eyed whore you were with. I'd wonder if you were able to sleep afterwards, if you stayed until morning and kissed her lips, if you promised to love her forever as you walked out the door."
Marc took a step closer, heart aching. "No Angie, to all of it. I've only had one love, only said it once, and I meant it. Forever hasn't come yet."