She had two weeks of peace and quiet now to finish her book. It wouldn't take that long. She was almost there. She had to decide whether or not to start a new one when she was done or to head back to New York - cut her cabin sojourn short and get back to the Big City. She looked over her shoulder at the cabin. I guess it depends on how much of him is left behind, she thought. If the cabin got too lonely, she would just bail and head for the airport. Or if it started to rain, she thought, and then laughed. Yes, if it started to rain, she was definitely getting out of here.

She stood up with a sigh and went into the cabin. Everything was neat and tidy. She had tried hard not to be a slob after their fight. Especially after he had moved into her room. There wasn't anything romantic about yesterday's underwear laying on the floor! He had kept all his clothes in his room and changed there, but they had slept in her room. Slept and... Don't go there yet, she told herself, looking at the bedroom door and sighing again.

Okay, you can stand in the middle of the room for the next two weeks, or you can get on with things. Make a plan. Make a list or something. Have a cup of tea.

A cup of tea. Yes, that was the place to start. She hadn't been able to swallow hers that morning. Howie had declined her offer of breakfast, said he'd get something on the plane or at the airport. He wasn't really hungry. She understood that perfectly. She wouldn't have been able to keep food down. So, a cup of tea.

A cup of tea and then go to town. Get some groceries.

No, maybe not. Her emotions were still pretty close to the surface. What if she ran into someone and they asked about Howie and she lost it? Not a good plan. Got to get some of that emotion drained first. Before she went to town.

So then, maybe a good cry. Why not? It wouldn't harm the relationship at this point. The relationship was over. So a good, cleansing cry, get it all out of her system...yes, that was it...a cup of tea, a good cry and then go to town.

Well, maybe not go to town just yet. Her face might be all blotchy and red from crying. She wouldn't want any concerned questions. So then maybe a nap. Have a nice cup of tea, cry your eyes out, have a nap and then wake up refreshed and go to town. It was a good plan.

Of course, it was Sunday.

The library wouldn't be open and she did have Howie's book to return. So maybe she should wait and go to town tomorrow. She opened the fridge. Yes, she had enough groceries here. There was a steak and some leftover chicken...some beans...a potato...a couple of carrots. She closed the fridge door.

Okay, so a cup of tea, a good cry, a nap and then...Oh, for God's sakes, Natalie, plug in the friggin' kettle.

Her hands were shaking as she held the spout under the tap. She plugged the kettle in and then she paced, waiting for it to boil. She straightened the cushions on the couch and moved the armchair a quarter of an inch.

"Come on, boil," she said to the kettle. She moved the shopping list and Howie's book from the left side of the counter to the middle. She picked up the pencil, but couldn't think of anything to write so she put it back down.

"Boil," she said to the kettle. She went over to her computer and checked how much paper was in the printer. But she didn't turn either of them on.

"Boil," she said to the kettle. Stupid kettle. She'd made a list; she was ready to get on with her life. And it all started with a cup of tea. And she couldn't make a cup of tea until the kettle boiled. She couldn't get on with her life until the kettle boiled. She couldn't get over him until the stupid, friggin' kettle boiled!!

She threw her hands up over her mouth to stifle the sob.

Okay, if the kettle wasn't more co-operative, there was going to be a change in the schedule. The crying was definitely going to come first. She got out a mug and a spoon and the tea. Any second now. Come on. Little tendrils of steam were starting to rise from the spout.

She was concentrating so hard on the kettle, that she didn't hear the car. She heard the knock on the door, though. She looked toward it, and then took a step in that direction. But the whistling of the kettle called her back.

"It's open," she called out, as she unplugged the vicious, unfeeling appliance. She turned to pour the water into her mug and then she set the kettle down very, very carefully.

"I'm the new tenant," said the man standing in the doorway.

Natalie edged around the counter.

"I've rented this place for the next two weeks," he said.

Natalie took a step toward him.

"Isn't this Hawk's Nest?" he asked.

She nodded and then finally was close enough to touch him. She put one finger on his arm.

"I lied," Howie whispered.

"Me too," she murmured.

"I love you," he said.

"Me too."

"Can we have two more weeks?"

She nodded. "Yes, please."

"Can we have forever?"

She nodded again and fell into his arms.

He held her tight and kissed her passionately. When he released her mouth, he whispered into her hair. "Love me."

She moved her face away from his and stared into his eyes. "Like you were the last man on Earth."