We didn't share anything else aside from Theseus. No affection, no feelings, not even meals.

They had shared a bed once, even if it was only for a night and neither of them remembered. The thought invaded her mind and Tilda shook her head, begging it to retreat. His last words certainly made her freeze, and she met his gaze, her heart jumping to her throat once again. He was well and truly trapped. And so she seemed to be. "But what does that make me?" she asked, stammering slightly as a gust of cold air hit her. She shivered, "Six months you will still be newly divorced." She'd never cared much about what society thought of her or her family where their profession was concerned, but she never thought she would be confronted with this situation.

A sudden and unexplained wave of anger overcame her and she stood up. "And what would that make me should I admit my feelings for you?" She demanded, running a hand through her hair as she began pacing back and forth again. "Until six months' time, where would that leave me? Where does that leave you and - and -" It was hard to get out. "And your son?" Panic started to settle into the pit of her stomach as she glanced back at him, then looked down at her own appearance. If word got out or if anyone saw them, she would be ruined. Her career would shrivel to nonexistence - no one would want to be alone in a room with her, much less be touched by her and let her heal them.

She whirled back around to stare at him, this time desperation coating her gaze. "How would we explain that to your family? To my family?" If she even had a family left. The reality of what they'd left behind at the ballroom hit her, and tears welled up in her eyes as the room started to spin.

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