With All My Heart

Laura Meyers slammed her briefcase down on the bar. "Give me a Long Island, Jack. Strong, if you please." She threw herself into the bar chair.

She eased out of her navy-blue tailored suit jacket and leaned her elbows on the counter, thoroughly spent. "That doesn't even begin to describe it."

Jack placed the drink in front of Laura, and dropped in a lime and lemon wedge for good measure. She smiled at him, lifted her glass, and took a long, calming drink, much in the manner a man would drink a tall glass of water after hours toiling in the hot sun.

"Nothing I can't handle -- if I don't go mad first," she said, rolling her wide green eyes dramatically.

Jack laughed. Laura Meyers was one of his favorite regulars at O'Malley's Pub, a small neighborhood hangout near Atlanta's Buckhead district. She came in twice a week from her law office in Atlanta on her way to her condo in Sandy Springs. It was the one indulgence she allowed herself - one hour, twice a week. The rest of her time was spent at the law firm or with her daughter.

He'd known her for close to three years, and she was like a breath of fresh air, with her long dark blond hair and melodic voice. Hardly the type one would expect to prosecute dirt bags in a court of law.

Laura's conversations were usually sprinkled with a mixture of humor, intelligence and warmth. But rarely did she discuss her personal life - that was the one topic that was off limits.

His eyes roamed appreciatively over her slender, yet curvaceous, figure. Her eyes snapped back a silent but firm warning. Jack shook his head and chuckled. He'd tried to talk her into a date the day they'd met, and she'd turned him down flat. And he'd seen her politely slam dunk scores of other men as well. She didn't have time for such frivolous endeavors.

Jack had been in love with her from that first day. But now, it was more like a big brother. Loved her too much at this point to let sex get in the way. And loved her too much to let the cads that made their way in and out of O'Malley's get too close - not that she needed his help, but in the event she ever did…

"Another domestic, Jack. We've got an open and shut case on this bastard, and there's not a question in my mind that she'll drop the charges before we get our conviction. Sad thing is, she'll be back in my office in six months, or less, with another black eye - maybe worse."

"Yeah, me, too. But what am I going to do about it? I can't make a woman go against her heart, even if her heart is lying to her, telling her this guy is going to change." She pushed the empty glass toward him, indicating her desire for a refill. "Today's paper in yet?"

Jack pulled the evening edition of the Atlanta Journal from beneath the bar and handed it to her. When she asked to read the paper, he knew she needed time to herself, and he would not be treated to a dialogue.

Laura pushed the battery case out of her mind and flipped through the newspaper. Robberies… rapes… gang violence… liberal political editorials. Nothing she particularly wanted to read today. She turned to the last few pages, where the trusty horoscopes and advice columns waited. Mindless brain candy, yes, but she allowed herself this luxury every now and again.

Absentmindedly, Laura sipped her tea and read the horoscopes. Little by little people began to filter in, but she continued to read, having no intention of inviting conversation from anyone. Alone in the crowd was exactly what she wanted to be. She suppressed a smile while reading Ann Landers, thinking how silly the writer of the letter to Ann really was. A toilet seat left up for twenty years hardly seemed like a life crisis, and this woman was ready to divorce over it.

It struck her how odd people really were - some willing to divorce for something as petty as a toilet seat or tube of toothpaste squeezed in the middle, and others who wouldn't leave, even when their very lives depended on it.

A chill ran down Laura's back. She was being watched. She didn't like being watched. She resisted the urge to stare back or deliver a fitting comment of disgust. Eventually the eyes would grow bored and move on.

She turned to the comics. It had been a long time since she'd taken the time to read them. A lot of strips she didn't recognize, but her favorites were still there -- Charlie Brown, Garfield, Ziggy. The hair on the back of Laura's neck stood up. The eyes still searched her soul.

Enough is enough, she thought. A confrontation was most definitely in order. Laura dropped the paper to the counter, and threw her glare in the direction of the heat.

She immediately recognized those green eyes that stared back. Her heart stopped and her mouth went dry. All color left her face and an instant chill shook her body when he smiled - a rakish, devastating smile. Stephen!

The past came flooding back like an ocean of memories. Her heart raced. She hadn't seen him in four years -- since the day he walked out, effectively crushing every dream she had in the process.

Laura swallowed hard. She sent him a tight-lipped glower, and brought the paper back up in front of her face with a forthright shake and pretended to read again.

Her flight instincts raged inside, but she pushed them back. O'Malley's was her place, and she would not relinquish it. Not to him.

You're being childish, she chastised herself. Stephen Michaels meant nothing to her anymore. Why allow him the satisfaction of watching her squirm?

"Not for me. The tall guy in the corner. Send him a beer, please, and put it on my tab."

"Sure," Jack replied, reaching into the cooler for a frosty beer mug. His gaze darted to the man and then back to Laura. "You wound me. He's hardly the type I would have expected you to go for after three years of turning down the suits that walk in here."

She glanced at Stephen, in his faded blue jeans, white tee-shirt and leather jacket. He smiled. Her heart skipped a beat. She flipped the paper back up.

"He's just someone I used to know, Jack. Don't get jealous," she said dismissively, flashing him a flirtatious grin.

She went back to her imaginary reading over the top of the newspaper as Jack delivered the beer. Suddenly Stephen looked her way, the hint of a smile forming below his brown mustache while a lone brow raised and he lifted his glass to her.

Stay cool, she told herself. He is, after all, just a man. She felt her body tingle at the thought. Yeah, just a man, she grimaced. A man who still could arouse a flood of emotion - heartbreak and longing all within the same instant. No one before, or since, had been able to touch her as completely as Stephen had.

She didn't move the paper. She did not wish to see him. She'd sent him the beer as a display of confidence - to prove he hadn't succeeded in making her bitter when he walked away - that she saw him as nothing more than an old acquaintance.

OK. It wasn't necessarily all true. Hell, none of it was true. She was not feeling overly confident at the moment. She had become very bitter after he left, and "old acquaintance" was hardly the way one would describe the very essence of one's heart.

God! After all these years she could not think about her heart without him filling it.

All at once his face appeared between hers and the paper. He grinned wickedly. "When did you take to reading upside down?"

"Excuse me?" She hoped she sounded annoyed, but she doubted it, since the voice that escaped her was barely a whisper. He was too close.

Laura's eyes darted to the comics and she forced back the groan that threatened her when she realized she had, indeed, picked the paper up from the bar, and for fifteen minutes had pretended to read it upside down. Damn.

"What do you want?" she asked, hiding her embarrassment with a tone of irritation. She threw the paper down on the counter top.

"Do I have to want something?" He feigned a pained countenance and took the bar chair next to hers, leaning his elbows casually on the bar.

He raked his hand through his short brown hair. "I don't know. Why don't you tell me how you've been?"

"In the newspaper. And for the record, I don't have the talent to read them upside down," he chuckled.

She almost smiled, reminded of his corny sense of humor - the same Rachel displayed with her silly knock-knock jokes. At a little over three years old, Rachel knew only one joke, and she told it over and over again, giggling wildly as she did, her green eyes sparkling with pride at her own humor.

"I read about the case you handled with the stalker," Stephen said, interrupting her private thoughts. "Impressive work."

Laura nodded. "Thanks. And what have you been up to?" Best to keep the conversation away from her life. Too risky.

Stephen laughed. "Yes. Since the country opened up a few years ago, there has been a lot of construction going on there. A lot of businesses from the west are putting their money there, banking it will eventually flourish."

He shrugged and pulled off his jacket, draping it over the back of the stool. "Hard to say. Certainly they have the population to support more trade. But I'm not so sure Russia's new economy is ready to sustain more - at least not along the lines the American and European investors are hoping anytime soon. Leaves room for a lot of underground action."

"And so what else did you do in Russia, besides construction?" She felt her jaw tense. She shouldn't give a damn about anything he'd done in the last four years. She did, but she shouldn't. Laura wondered how many times he'd wondered about her while he was in Russia of all places. Probably never.

Laura couldn't suppress her shock. Hardly what she ever expected to hear pass through Stephen Michaels's lips.

"Yeah," he said, recognizing the expression on her face. "Happens to the best of us."

"And what would cause such a thing to come about, Stephen? Let me guess," she said, tapping a finger to her cheek in contemplation. "A woman?" There was more than a hint of sarcasm in her inflection, but she didn't care.

Laura felt her heart drop clear to her toes. She worried her lower lip for a moment, in an attempt to focus on that pain, rather than the aching in her heart.

She stared into the eyes of the man she'd loved with everything she'd had - the man who'd sworn he'd loved her, too. And after two years of believing every word he said, suddenly everything changed. She came home one day and he was gone. No phone call, no letter - nothing.

Laura had planned a romantic candlelight dinner that night. She'd been going to tell him she was pregnant. But he never came home from work, and she sat at the table, alone, until the candles burned out.

Now the rogue sat next to her in a bar, appearing from out of nowhere, and he was about to gush about some woman who'd turned his life around after he left her life in shambles.

Jack's hand slammed down on the bar in front of them, his eyes filled with anger. "Is there a problem, buddy?"

Stephen released Laura's arm. "No. No problem." He turned his eyes back to hers.

She should have signaled for Jack to throw him out - or hold him there so she could make her escape. But something about the way Stephen's eyes softened and pleaded with her made her come to his defense.

"Nothing to worry about, Jack." Laura tried to smile convincingly and pushed her glass toward him. "Another. For both of us."

"No," Stephen interrupted. "On mine." He threw a twenty-dollar bill down. "Cover her tab, too."

She climbed back in her seat and studied the man beside her. He was dreadfully serious, his eyes whispered to her.

Within moments the drinks were placed in front of them, and Laura nodded her wish for privacy to Jack.

"It was no coincidence that I showed up here tonight, Laura." He took a long drink from his mug. "I knew you were here, and there is something I need to say."

"I really don't need to know about her, Stephen. Some things are more than I care to know."

Oh, God. She'd never seen this blatantly cruel side of him before. But she'd resigned herself years ago to the fact that there were more than likely other women in his life - maybe a woman was the reason he walked out on her to begin with.

He cleared his throat nervously. "When I left you," he began again, "I was scared."

He held up his hand. "Laura, I'd never loved anyone so much in my life as I loved you the day I left you."

"Hmmm. That makes sense. Took the fastest train out of Atlanta because you loved me. OK. Go on."

He took a deep breath, apparently determined to continue. "That morning I'd decided to ask you to marry me. Even went to the jewelers and picked out a ring on my lunch break." Another drink. This one longer than the last. "Anyway," he said, running his hand over his mustache, "I kept the ring in my pocket the entire day while I worked. And I practiced what I would say to you when I proposed - even practiced getting down on my knees. And I imagined looking into your beautiful eyes when I asked you to be my wife, and prayed you'd accept."

"So what happened?" Her voice trembled with emotion. Laura wondered if he was making this outrageous story up - but to what end?

Stephen smiled. Some of the tension left his eyes. "I was so proud of you. And I knew you'd pass with flying colors. But what made me proud also scared the hell out of me. By the time I was half way home, I had myself convinced you wouldn't want me - that you were bound for bigger and better than I could ever give you. That I could never give you what you deserved."

"How could you think that, Stephen? How could you believe for one moment that I wouldn't want you, when you were all that I wanted in this world?" She hurriedly added, "Then."

Laura was not about to let him believe for one second that she'd not gotten over him.

"I should have had more faith in you - in us. I pulled into the parking lot that night, and for the longest time I stared up at the window of your apartment. And for the first time, I felt as though I didn't belong there. And that's when I left."

"Where did you go? I was worried sick about you, until your sister called and said you'd left a message on her machine that you were all right. But that's all I heard."

"I was in Cleveland by the next morning, and by the following afternoon, I was on a plane headed for Moscow."

"For two years I was on the site by dawn, and never left until long after the sun went down. By the time I got back to the room I was renting, I was too tired to do more than shower before I passed out. It wasn't until the third year, when the building slowed down and I had more time on my hands, that the emptiness came."

He shook his head. "No. That's not true. The emptiness was always there - from the moment I drove out of that parking lot. God, am I making any sense?" he asked. But the question was posed to himself, not her.

He lifted his glass and took a calming sip of his beer. "By the time I realized the loneliness - emptiness - was the void created when I pushed you out of my life, I was too ashamed to ask your forgiveness, and pretty much convinced myself that I'd put you through too much to deserve your forgiveness. And so I worked in Russia for another year, feeling sorry for myself, because I'd screwed up the best thing I'd ever had in my life."

Stephen looked deep into her eyes again. This time he was searching. But Laura was unsure if it was for her forgiveness or something else entirely.

She tried to think of something to say, but the words tangled and gnarled deep inside her and refused to come. What could she say? That he was correct in his assumption he'd screwed up the best thing in his life? Not her, but their daughter - the one thing he left her to hold on to when the pain was unbearable and the tears endless.

"Six months ago it dawned on me that I'd spent three and a half years of my life as a fool. It was then I decided I was coming home. And I was going to do whatever it took to make it up to you."

"Let me finish. I've been back in Atlanta a month, Laura, working up the nerve to come to you. Apologize. Beg your forgiveness. But nothing I can think of could make up for all the hurt."

"To apologize. To tell you I was wrong and I am sorry for every tear you shed on my account. To tell you that I have never stopped loving you, and not a single day has passed that I haven't thought about you - missed you - longed to hold you."

Laura could no longer hold back the tears. Stephen was there, like a dream, saying all the words she'd longed to hear. But there had been so much anguish, so many broken dreams since the last time she saw him.

"I'll understand if you never want to see me again," he said. He could still read her. "I just wanted you to know the truth. I owed you that."

Stephen stood then and dug into his pocket. He took Laura's hand and folded her fingers around the object he'd withdrawn from his jeans, and held her fist shut.

"I've been holding this for you for four years now. It's time you got it." He brushed his lips to her closed hand, sending a shiver of remembrance through her body. "Don't worry. I won't bother you anymore. I just wanted you to know the truth," he said again.

Slowly he let loose of her hand. Leaning down, he gently kissed her cheek, threw his jacket over his shoulder and then turned.

She could not tear her eyes away from his tall form as he made his way around the bar and out the door.

Would this be the last time she'd ever see him again? Somehow the thought that it would be the last time struck her to the core of her soul.

Her fingers loosened around the object in her hand. She stared down at the shiny golden band, adorned with tiny emeralds surrounding a crystal clear diamond.

Quickly she grabbed her briefcase and her suit jacket and flew out into the parking lot. Her eyes darted back and forth over the cars and trucks. He was nowhere in sight.

Laura ran toward the sound of the idling car, weaving in and out of the rows, not an easy thing for a woman in heels. Kicking off her shoes while she ran, she moved faster when she spotted the car. She felt her blood race when she saw Stephen sitting behind the wheel. But then he threw the car in reverse, without seeing her.

"Stephen!" she called out, throwing the burden of the briefcase and jacket down on the pavement.

Out of breath by the time she reached him, she held up the engagement ring. "This," she panted.

"Is…" She inhaled long and exhaled slowly, little by little regaining her breath. "Is that how you do it?"

"You just put the ring in a woman's hand and walk away? What was all that you were saying about getting down on your knees?"

Laura put the ring in his palm and folded his fingers around it. "I want you to do it, just the way you planned that night."

A truck came to a dead stop behind Stephen's car. A horn sounded. "Hey, Mister - move that heap outta my way," the impatient driver yelled out his window.

Stephen ignored him. He gazed lovingly into her eyes, his expression becoming soft - serious.

"Laura," he began, his voice broken by the emotion reflected in his eyes, "I love you with all my heart. Would you do me the honor of being my wife?"

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