For anybody still confused about the timeline or AU theory...
An Affair To Remember Ch 2 FDK or Get back here and post some more!!!! 
From Part Two...The image of her standing before him in a flowing white dress was getting harder to hold onto. The details blurring until it was almost dream-like...
Her whispered words drew his attention but he didn’t turn around. He couldn’t face her. Not while he was still... mourning...
“No, we’re not married, and we’re... there’s no baby, but... it’s a beautiful dream, Clark. I... I almost wish it were true.”
--
Part Three--
She was gone.
She’d been halfway out the door by the time he’d spun around. He’d watched her leave in slow motion, a million thoughts running through his head.
She wished it were true.
The echo of the thudding door had snapped the world back into focus. Like a rubber band that had stretched too far. It’d left his ears ringing.
He wasn’t ready to accept it, but he couldn’t deny it.
He couldn’t believe she was lying to him. Not about that. Not with the sky falling and his world ending.
The memories... the feelings... were still there, replaying in the back of his head. The loop of images fading a little more each time. The images in his head... his memories... were fading into a blur of colour, sound and... emotion. Each time becoming a little rawer. A little more abstract. A little harder to hold onto.
He didn’t know which ones were real - if any of them were.
He couldn’t trust what his head was telling him... couldn’t trust what his heart was telling him. Not anymore. She’d shattered everything with her shocked words, but he couldn’t believe she would have lied to him.
The evidence had been staring him in the face all day. The way she’d flinch away from him when he’d touch her. The wedding photo that wasn’t on his mantle. The longing that wasn’t in her eyes...
Lois Lane wasn’t his wife.
Wasn’t his lover.
Wasn’t his.
He tried to convince himself, even as he swiped at his stinging eyes, that he hadn’t actually lost anything. He tried, but it was that thought, more than any other, which was the hardest to bear.
Clark stared at the door, too afraid to open it and step out into the world. Too afraid the rest of it would crumble around him. He wished he could see through it. Wished she was on the other side. Wished that she hadn’t really left. The grain of the wood dissolved before his mind’s eye to reveal the street beyond and the image of a crying woman huddled on his doorstep.
Clark shook his head. She wasn’t really there, he was sure, but he could almost imagine the piercing sound of her quiet sobs.
The nagging feeling was back, pulsing through his veins, overwhelming, like the roar of a jet over an uncharted valley. He needed to be somewhere. Needed to do something. The sense of belonging that had calmed him, the warmth that infused him, had retreated with her, leaving him cold and empty. He’d felt bereft as the feeling of... rightness had shattered with the slamming door.
He needed... to know. More than anything, he needed to know. Clark closed his eyes, desperate to remember, and let the darkness swallow him. The bullets of light hung in the air around him, suspended in the vast nothingness. Like a country sky on a crisp winter night. If he reached out...
But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He was too... scared...
Clark shook his head roughly and snapped open his eyes. He needed to get out, to find some place where he wasn’t... suffocating with the need to be Clark Kent. He needed to... find Lois. Even if it... the dream... wasn’t true. He needed to find her. He was lost without her.
He bounded up the stairs. He had no idea where to start looking, no idea where she might go or who she might speak to, but he had to try. He wouldn’t let that stop him. He wouldn’t let anything stop him. He had to find her. He needed to find her. More than anything, he needed to see her again, if only to soothe the ache in his chest, the burning need to have her near him...
And then she was. She was huddled on his stoop, just as he’d imagined her.
“Lois?”
Her head snapped upwards. Her wide, red eyes met his briefly before flickering away and settling near his shoulder.
Clark felt his heart clench.
She *had* been crying.
... just as he’d imagined...
“You’ve been crying,” he stated softly. He ached to reach out and brush away the tear stains on her cheeks but he held himself back. She probably wouldn’t welcome his touch... she’d probably think...
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, turning away from him. “I’m sure... I know you’re... confused. You don’t need to be around someone who’s going to fly off the handle because you...when you... you don’t need that.”
Clark pushed his frustration aside. He longed to touch her, and he would have a mere hour ago. But now... nothing was... entirely comfortable anymore. He wasn’t even sure he had a *right* to touch her. She wasn’t his wife. She wasn’t even his girlfriend. Still... he ached with the need. He longed to... and he would have, if not for the terrifying fear that he’d shatter whatever was keeping her there and scare her away. The last thing he wanted was for her to leave again. To feel that emptiness again. She might not be his wife, but he loved her.
He needed her.
“Lois... why don’t you come back inside?” he asked, reaching for her hand. “Before the sky starts to fall.”
Her eyes darted back to his, and he grinned.
“That’s not funny, Clark.” Her voice held a warning note but he could see the smile creeping into her eyes. The... relief?
“Come back inside,” he urged, gently. “Maybe we can talk about...”
“I can’t, Clark,” she said, cutting him off. “I’m sorry, but I can’t deal with... that. Not right now. That’s why I had to...” She waved her free hand helplessly, letting her voice trail off.
“But you didn’t leave,” Clark pointed out.
“No,” she affirmed, squeezing the hand that held hers. “I couldn’t leave.”
“I’m sorry,” Clark breathed. “That I messed everything up so badly. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, Clark,” she insisted. “You didn’t... it wasn’t your fault. You were just... confused.”
He was confused. She wasn’t his wife, and he... he knew that, but it still hurt. Clark nodded his head... he’d been confused. He was still confused...
“You kissed me back... in there, you kissed me back.”
“Yeah.” Her face flushed. “Yeah... I did.”
The flashing images kept replaying in his head. The feel of her lips against his, her hands in his hair, her body pressed against his... “And you’ve kissed me before?”
“Yes, I have.” She hesitated, took a deep breath, and raised her eyes to meet his. “We’ve kissed a few times.”
His shoulders sagged, and a weight he never realised he’d been carrying lifted. They were real. Some of them at least, the one with the blue silk... that was still negotiable. But some of them had to be real. Which meant he hadn’t... he hadn’t imagined it... there *was* something between them. They might not be married or dating. She might not be his wife or his girlfriend, but... there was *something*... that feeling of warmth... that spark of electricity...
Some of them had to be real, and if some of them were real...
“Can I... kiss you again?”
“Clark...” She paused and sucked in a deep breath.
He didn’t wait for the denial he was sure was to come. He pulled her towards him and brushed his lips against hers gently, tentatively. She whimpered against his lips as her resistance melted away and his kisses became firmer, more insistent, as his confidence started to build.
She was kissing him back.
His senses filled with her. Her soft whimpers, her warm lips... He was breathing in the very scent of her... He forgot about everything as he pressed his lips against hers again and again. Her body swayed towards him, her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer... pulling... and then pushing. Pushing him away. She tore her lips from his suddenly, and he stood still, stunned, his chest heaving in unison with hers.
“Don’t... don’t kiss me, Clark,” she pleaded, her shaken voice breaking through the silence of their ragged breathing. “It makes this harder to do, and I... have to do this. I don’t want you to hate me if... *when* you get your memory back.”
Clark shook his head in silent denial. He didn’t want to mention that he might never get his memory back - that they might not even have enough time to find out, but even so... his heart revolted at the idea. He was sure... “I could never hate you, Lois.”
Hate her?
He was certain he could never hate her. He couldn’t trust his memories of her, but he couldn’t deny the way he reacted to her on an elemental level. The way she brought light into the darkest corners of his life. He knew how he felt about her. How much he loved her. Didn’t she know? Didn’t she...
“We are friends, aren’t we?” he asked, horrified as the thought struck him. He didn’t... did he resent her?
No.
It wasn’t possible. He *loved* her.
“Oh, Clark. Of course we’re friends,” she said, her voice slightly softer. “We’re... close friends.”
“How could you think I’d ever ha...” Clark’s voice trailed off as he remembered the panic that that had infused him earlier. The jealousy. The superhero. “Is there... are you seeing someone else?”
“No,” she admitted, looking away from him. “I’m not... involved with anyone else.”
Her words hung heavily in the awkward silence that followed. The hesitation in her voice stung. If she wasn’t...
“Am I? I mean... I’m not seeing Cat, am I?” he asked, shifting awkwardly and staring over her shoulder.
“Cat?” Her surprised gaze flicked back to his face. “No. Cat’s been chasing after you for months like a... Where would you get the idea that...” He saw her eyes narrow as she drew the obvious conclusions about his interlude with Cat earlier that morning.
He almost felt guilty at the relief that coursed through him. He’d never... he’d known that he’d never... not with Cat. Not when he loved Lois.
His attention was jerked back to the woman in front of him as her voice continued to rise. “That no-good... I can’t believe she’d...”
“Then why, Lois?” he asked, cutting her off. “Why can’t you let me love you?”
The angry expression that had been simmering disappeared, and her features twisted, an emotion he couldn’t place playing over her face.
“You can’t...” She paused, sucking in a deep breath and crossing her arms over her chest. “You don’t love me, Clark.”
His stomach twisted. She didn’t believe him. Of course she wouldn’t believe him. But then, he’d known that. He knew that...
He *remembered* that.
There was... fire... mud... and... Lois’s sad voice. She was... she’d been hurt in the past. That was why he’d never... why he’d waited. She... the things she’d told him... that was why he’d never said... and why he had to now...
She deserved... she needed to know that someone loved her.
“But I do love you, Lois,” Clark said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You... you don’t have to love me back.”
“You don’t remember me, Clark!” She paused, closing her eyes. Her next words were quiet... barely a whisper. “I’m not... I’m not someone you’d love. I’m not... a nice person.”
His heart clenched. She looked so vulnerable... so lonely... standing there, afraid to look at him.
“What changed?” he asked quietly.
“What?” Her eyes snapped open as her brow crinkled in confusion.
“If you’re not normally a nice person...” Clark let his voice trail off as allowed himself to touch her. He wondered if she felt that jolt of electricity, that spark that existed between them. “What changed?”
He watched her gaze wander, dart across his porch, flicker upwards, and then, finally, settle on him.
“Everything,” she admitted on a soft sigh. “Everything’s changed... I’m not ready to die. I haven’t done what I need to do. I haven’t... I don’t want to die alone, Clark.”
She was in his arms before the first choked sob escaped. “You’re not alone,” he murmured into her hair, pulling her tighter against him.
Feeling her tears soak through his shirt was... heart breaking... it tore at him, but at the same time, it was... grounding. Real. His memories might have been false, but what was between the two of them, right then, in that moment, was real. He had her in his arms, her tears staining his shirt, and he had her trust. He might not have her love, but he had her trust, and he knew... somehow, that was important.
“Come inside,” he whispered after her tears had slowed. “You can use the bathroom to freshen up and then show me where I keep the coffee.”
--
TBC...
