"Hello. How are you?" Owen's chocolatey voice replied soothing her frantic heart. She hadn't seen him since their short trip to the lakes and that had been a week ago. She missed him. She missed the way he put her at ease and something deep inside her yearned for him in more ways than she would dare to admit.

"The same," she answered truthfully, conscious of her bitter tone.

"Oh... Well, at least it's not worse, right?" Owen said.

His only intention was to make her smile. But Lora didn't smile. In reality, she thought 'worse' might actually be better. 'Worse' might at least lead to something. Same was... well, the same. Static, unmoving.

"I'm worried about him," she blurted out. "He's not doing well, Owen, and it's all my fault."

She felt him stall on the phone, knowing he was searching for the right thing to say. Because that's what Owen excelled at, saying the right things, putting her guilt-inflicting conscience back in its place so that she can think straight again.

"You may have triggered the way he's feeling," he said carefully, "but it's not your fault. You did the right thing in telling him. He's your husband. You have a right and duty to let him know how you feel. You're supporting him through this like no one would believe. You're on your way to becoming the best ex-wife in the world."

Lora could just imagine him as though he was right in front of her, sitting casually on a high stool, one leg stretched out in front of him, the other leaning on the footrest as he sat on the edge of the seat. His elbow rested upon his knee and his head tipped to one side, light-brown curls spilling onto his forehead, green eyes twinkling beneath them, the dimple in his left cheek delivering the final blow.

"You're not making me feel better, you know?" she smiled, and Owen heard it. He groaned on the other end of the line and Lora felt the heat pool at her core. She could tell he was exercising great restraint not to pass on some naughty comment, so, she spoke again quickly before her thoughts had time to stray. "How did the surgery go?"

Owen took the bait willingly. He had promised himself he would be patient, for her sake. He would give her the space and time she needed to get through this. Separation and divorce would be harder for her than for other people, people who didn't believe that putting their own well-being first was a deadly sin. He knew she'd be beating herself up relentlessly for getting out of a marriage that should never even have passed as one.

So, he would be patient. If it were up to him, he would have raced over to their house ten minutes after she told her husband she wanted a divorce, dragged her back to his house and made love to her until she was quite senseless.

"Great, thank goodness," he answered. "I mean it was only a craniotomy but still, anything could happen on the table."

"Right," Lora quipped, plopping herself on the sofa. "Just another day at the office. Drilling holes in people's skulls, saving their lives..."

The sound of his quiet laughter filled her ears again.

"I already have a God complex, Lora. My ego doesn't need feeding!" he warned, making Lora gasp.

"If you're liking yourself to God just because you're over-fed on blessings He gave you, Owen Shaw, then you should be paying back what you owe."

But this time, Owen could not resist. "I'll be happy to feed you something back to compensate for my indulgence, you know?"

She heard the cheek in his voice and while she was outraged at his audacity, her insides burned just the same. Her body was aching for him just at the thought of him and she found herself pressing her thighs together. "Owen!"

But he was far from done. "Are you blushing? I love making you blush."

"I am not blushing," Lora muttered, face red as a poppy.

Another smooth laugh. "You're a terrible liar, Lora. Now, seriously," he went on, taking pity on her. "When am I taking you out to dinner?"

It was Lora's time to groan now. Truth be told, she wanted nothing more than to don a dress and go out to dinner and a nice bottle of red with Dr Owen Shaw. She didn't just long for it. She needed it, almost as much as she needed him. But she couldn't say yes just yet. She was still very much married and no one even knew that that would soon change.

It was as though he read her mind. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I used to see you more before we came clean. If we keep this up, you will have to get comfortable with phone sex!"

Lora felt her insides squirm again. Owen's voice was strained with desire and it lit her up like flame to fuel. She wanted him so badly, she actually considered steering the conversation in that direction. Then she remembered her mother would soon be home with the kids and her husband was just in the next room.

"We did not come clean yet," she reminded him. "I only told Jona and he hasn't even acknowledged it."

Owen's reply came a little too quickly and a little less playful. "You didn't send him an email. You know for a fact that he got the message."

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do," he sighed. "I don't want to pressure you, Lora. I just miss you, that's all."

That made her smile. Lora missed him too but somehow, she didn't think telling him that would make things easier.

"I want a proper chance with you," Owen went on. "We make each other happy. We shouldn't have to hide."

"I know," was all Lora could say. And then, to ease the gnawing in her stomach, she added, "I don't want to hide either, but I can't just leave Jonathan and two children on their own while I have dinner with you."

"I know, I know," he conceded finally. "What about dinner and sex? I think that's worth risking Siena burning the house down, don't you?"

"Owen..."

"It would be really good sex, I promise! Three orgasms minimum!"

"Owen!"

"I'll even let you go down on me if you want. Anything for you."

"Owen, please!"

"Baby, you don't have to beg!" he teased.

"Oh, I swear I'm hanging up!" Lora exclaimed, but she was smiling from ear to ear and Owen could tell.

"Okay, okay," he murmured. "I'm off. I'm stopping for sushi on the way home. Do you want me to get some for you and the kids? Aiden only likes chicken, right? I can leave them by the door. No strings attached. I won't even knock. Unless you change your mind and want to tip me, of course."

Lora bit her lower lip. As always, it was way too thoughtful of him and way too tempting. But the thought of opening the door to a box of raw fish instead of him almost broke her heart. She knew it wasn't the food she was craving.

"It's okay. I have dinner ready. Thank you, though."

She heard him sigh and chewed on her lower lip anxiously. She knew he was just as disappointed with her answer as she was.

"Okay," he said. "Call me later, when the kids are asleep. I was serious about the phone sex."

She blushed wickedly but her fingers were itching to relieve the pressure that had built up inside her, aching to mimic his skilful movements, or maybe those of his tongue. She squirmed again. Oh, God! How could he do that with just a phone call?

Lora hung up and tried to ignore the loneliness that engulfed her. She walked over to Jona's room and hesitated by the door, her hand on the handle. She resented going near him. An almost crippling fear flooded her but she wasn't sure what she feared most, his reaction or his lack thereof. It bubbled inside her. The dread, the tension and the acid. And then she thought of Owen and opened the door and released the air she'd been holding in her lungs as her eyes landed on her husband. He was sleeping.

His face was soft and sad but peaceful at the same time. He looked nothing like his usual, powerful self. She moved closer to his bed and looked at him, really looked at him like she hadn't in a really long time. So many emotions rolled over her. Anger, resignation, determination, guilt, disbelief. But she knew. She knew for certain that, right or wrong, she had to do something. For the first time in her life, she felt confident standing next to him, or rather, over him. She felt powerful, and that was not an emotion that Jonathan Scicluna had ever instilled in her before.

As though feeling the change inside her, Jonathan opened his eyes. His eyes remained on Lora for a few seconds. She waited for them to become fierce. She waited for his face to harden but it didn't. He only turned away from her as though he couldn't bear to look at her.

"I'm going to the lawyer tomorrow," she said. It wasn't a question. It wasn't an offer and it wasn't a choice. Jonathan didn't stir. A single tear, maybe of frustration, maybe of sorrow, made its way down her cheek and reached the corner of her mouth. But her back was straight and her chin tilted upwards and she was determined not to break down. "Jonathan, please talk to me!"

"What do you want me to say?" he croaked.

"I don't know. Something. Anything."

Silence.

And then, "Will anything I say make you stay?"

She didn't stop to think about his question. "No."

"Then there's no point in me saying anything, is there?"