This is finally mostly written (Carol and Kelly asked for one more scene in the last chapter and I have to figure out what it's going to be, but hope to do so soon). So, if things slow down, I'll post a bit faster. On the other hand, this week promises to be very bad work-wise where I fully expect to have trouble finishing work before midnight or so, so I doubt that I'll be online at night in order to do so in the next week.

Thanks for Carol, Beth, and Kelly for all the comments, suggestions, and grammar corrections – all of which I sorely need for this to be viewable by more people.

Lastly as a note, as I know it's hard to keep track of time changes and this one jumps a couple of months, the last chapter took place in July 1995.


From Chapter 31

It wasn't until after we broke apart that Clark appeared, making me wonder if he had been watching periodically, making sure not to interrupt our goodbye. “Do you want more time?” he asked us quietly.

Chad nodded, tears falling down his cheeks. “I want forever. But I don't have that,” he said softly. “So, I think I'm ready now.”

I leaned back into him, resting my head against his chest, listening to the sound of his heart beating. The sound was soothing, reminding me of so many memories from the last ten years. After a few minutes, Chad gently pushed my head up to meet my lips. “Goodbye, Lois,” he whispered, our lips still touching.

“Goodbye,” I whispered back before leaning forward to kiss him again. Then pulling away, I turned toward Clark.

“I'm ready now,” I told him.

Clark nodded, then took a step forward. “I'm sorry,” he said to both of us.

I took another step forward, but couldn't let go of Chad's hand. “I love you,” Chad whispered to me. I nodded and finally let go.

Chapter 32

September 1995

I held the small opal pendant in my hands, staring at it. Was he thinking of me or had he already gotten out of the habit? I didn't know. For the first few weeks after I permanently moved to Metropolis, things had gone back to the way they were when Chad first moved to Smallville. We talked every night, sometimes for hours.

Eventually, though, we had stopped. We ended every phone call in tears and decided that this wasn't working. We had to both move on and we couldn't do that if we continued to lean so heavily on each other. So we put a moratorium on talking for a little while. We even agreed to delay contacting a lawyer to try to settle the divorce as we thought that would just give us an excuse to talk.

So now I was still married, but had willingly agreed not to talk to my husband for over a month. Some days I wondered why we bothered. I even considered asking Clark to take me to Smallville. I'd move back – I'd offer to go back to the long distance thing. Anything to be with Chad again.

Other days I was more confident that we had made the right decision. When I wasn't lost in my misery at missing Chad, I was happy – happier than I had been in Smallville, and I knew it.

Still, sometimes it was just so hard. This was one of them.

In fact, I always knew when the bad times would be. It was the same every day. I got up in the morning and looked over at the left side of the bed. It wasn't even our bed, but I'd lived with Chad for too long for that to matter, and I had yet to start using the entire bed just because I could. So each morning I'd look over there and wonder where Chad was. Then, just as I was swinging my legs to the floor to get up, I would remember. He was in Smallville – half a continent away. And he was going to stay there.

It would hit me like a punch in the gut and I would sit on the edge of the bed for a moment remembering what it was we had agreed to do. That wasn't the bad part, though. At some point, I'd be looking around the room and catch the clock. I'd realize I needed to get up and I'd stop focusing on Chad as I ran around trying to get ready for work in time.

Work was fine. I was distracted sometimes and I knew I was not really on my game, but at least I was busy. I could distract myself with work for most of the day. Clark would cover for me when it was really bad and he and Perry would congratulate me if I made any intelligent contribution to a story. Sometimes this bothered me – I wasn't used to being handled with kid-gloves, but most of the time I didn't care. My heart wasn't in it anymore. It was in Smallville with Chad.

After work, Clark would make every effort to keep me distracted. Dinner from far-off places, movies, late night at a museum. Once he even flew me to Australia for a snowball fight.

No, the day too was okay. At some point, though, Clark would need to go. Superman would be needed or it would simply be time for bed. It didn't matter the reason – the important thing was that at some point my source of entertainment would disappear.

I'd watch television for a little while and it would help. Eventually, though, I'd unconsciously move to the center of the couch to snuggle with Chad. The punch in the gut I got in the mornings was nothing to the feeling of intense loneliness I would feel when I realized he wasn't there. That he was never going to be there again.

And it wasn't loneliness as in not wanting to be alone. It's not as if having Clark around all day was all I needed, so if he could have stayed later I wouldn't be lonely. It was more that the echoing silence wasn't as noticeable when Clark was here. I was focused on something else and it was more like Chad was just in the kitchen making dinner or something. It wasn't until I was alone that the cold, hard truth would hit me. Chad wasn't in the next room. He wasn't even on some sort of trip to a conference or something. He didn't live here. This wasn't his home – it was mine. Mine alone.

When I was a little girl, after Dad moved out, I would dream of my own place. Sometimes I'd imagine the place I'd share with Lucy, but mostly I'd imagine my place as an adult – one of my very own without an alcoholic mother or a sister who needed someone to take care of her. Then the idea of a place of my own seemed idyllic.

Chad had changed all that. I had never regretted not living alone before now and I hardly relished the opportunity to do it now. I wanted my husband. Particularly at night, when I had no distractions – I wanted nothing more than to share this apartment with Chad, the same way we had shared every place else I had lived since I moved out of my mother's house.

************************

“So, what's on the docket for today, partner?” Clark asked me as I took my coat off. I glared at him. He was way too cheerful in the mornings.

“No idea,” I mumbled as I took a sip of the coffee Clark had placed on my desk.

“Bad night?” he asked me with compassion.

“They're all bad,” I told him.

Clark nodded, but offered no words to console me. Maybe he knew that nothing he said would do it. Instead he glanced at his desk. “There's nothing this morning,” he offered. “Maybe we should knock off work for the morning and go do something?”

“Like what?” I asked, listless.

“A walk in the park?” he suggested. “A visit to the Children's Museum?”

“A flight to Smallville,” I threw out. For a second Clark said nothing. Then he reached over to grab my coat and took my arm, leading me out of the newsroom. As we exited the elevators, he handed me my coat, but continued not to say anything.

With a hand on the small of my back to guide me, he led me to the Fudge Castle. “Clark, it's nine in the morning!” I reminded him.

“They're open,” he said quietly. “We'll get some hot chocolate.”

He was right – how I never realized that, I don't know. It was useful information. We sat across from each other at a booth in the back and Clark ordered two hot chocolates with extra whipped cream.

“I can take you if you want,” he said quietly while we waited for our decadent drinks. When I didn't respond, he added, “To Smallville. I can take you.”

“I don't know if that's what I want,” I admitted. “I don't know what I want anymore.” We lapsed into silence as the waitress placed the hot chocolates in front of us. I took a spoonful of whipped cream off the top while Clark stirred his into his drink. I watched his spoon move around in brisk circles for a second before I spoke again. “I want my old life back. The one were Chad and I lived here and we were happy that way.”

“He'd move back for you,” Clark said quietly.

“And Rachel would have moved here for you,” I said, a challenge in my eyes, I was sure. “Would you have let her?”

Clark shook his head. “No. I couldn't ask her to do that for me.”

“Right. Well, the life I want back is the one where Chad liked living here. Or at least I thought he did.”

“Ignorance is bliss,” Clark said quietly.

For a moment I said nothing as I stirred the remaining whipped cream into my hot chocolate. Then I played Clark's words over in my head and had a horrifying thought. “Do you think… do you think he was never really happy here?”

Clark looked up from the table top in surprise. “No. I don't. Really. I think he was happy here. He was happy being with you. But sometimes…”

“Sometimes that isn't enough,” I finished his thought. “I know. I wish it was. If it was, I'd still be in Smallville. Maybe you would be, too.”

Clark nodded. “Lois…” he hesitated.

“What?” I asked.

“Maybe… maybe Chad isn't the right person for you. I think he's great,” he rushed to add. “And I know he loves you terribly.”

“And I do him,” I added.

Clark nodded. “I know. But maybe… I don't know how to say this.” He paused to sigh. “I guess I thought for years that Rachel and I were perfect together. But now I wonder. I loved her so much and I know she loved me. But if we were really perfect for each other… wouldn't we want compatible things out of life? And if we don't, doesn't that mean we're not perfect for each other, even if we love each other?”

“Maybe,” I admitted. “But… it's different. Chad and I have been together a lot longer than you and Rachel. I thought…”

“I know,” Clark said, his voice soft. “But sometimes that just makes it harder to see.”

I nodded. “Maybe.” I said nothing else, but took a long sip of my hot chocolate. The whipped cream had cooled it slightly and it was just the right temperature. “I guess… I just feel like maybe Chad isn't perfect for me, but now I don't know what is. I lived my entire adult life until now knowing what I wanted, but I feel like it's all different now.”

Clark smiled. “You're only 27,” he pointed out. “You're hardly an old lady. Maybe you just need to reinvent yourself.”

“But into whom?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “Whom ever you want. That's the beauty of reinventing yourself.”

“I could give up my job at the Planet. Stop being a reporter,” I mused.

“Do you want to?” he asked and for the first time I could see something besides concern in his eyes.

“Why? Would it matter?” I asked.

“No,” he sighed. “You need to do whatever makes you happy. But I missed you when you were in Smallville. And not just as a friend. I missed you that way, too. Metropolis was a lonelier place without you in it. Chad, too. But also as a colleague.”

I smiled, “That's sweet, Clark.”

“I'm not trying to be sweet. But it's true. Writing for the Daily Planet has been a dream of mine since I was old enough to understand that the Smallville Press was not the kind of paper I'd want to write for.

“And I never even thought of quitting when you were in Smallville – I love it here more than any of the other papers I've written for. But I like it even more when you're here. More than that, I write better when you're here.”

“That's a very nice thing to say, Clark Kent,” I smiled at him.

“It's true,” he said quietly. “I think you need to make the decision that makes sense for you. But if that's to quit the Planet, I'll miss you. Even if you stay in Metropolis.”

“I don't even know what I'd do if I didn't write,” I said.

“You could still write,” Clark reminded me with a smile.

“For someplace besides the Planet?”

“Well, no,” Clark said. “I mean, you could, but why?”

I laughed. “My thought exactly.”

“But maybe you wouldn't be a reporter,” Clark said.

“I've always wanted to write a novel,” I admitted.

Clark smiled. “I bet you'd be great at it.”

I sighed. “Maybe. But… I think I'd miss the newsroom. The thrill of working on a good story. Not that I've done much of that recently.”

“What are you talking about? We've had a dozen front page stories since you got back,” he reminded me.

“Of which you did most of the investigating and more than your fair share of the writing for all of them,” I pointed out. “I'm just riding on your coattails.”

“You're going through something right now. I know that. Perry knows that. And we both know that Lois Andrews is way better than any other reporter, even distracted.”

I sighed. “I won't be Lois Andrews much longer.”

“I'm sorry, Lois,” Clark said, his eyes sad. “Really, I am.”

“Me, too,” I said, swirling the dregs of my hot cocoa.

“If you decided to be a novelist, would you move back to Smallville?” Clark asked me.

I shook my head, feeling the tears start to gather in my eyes. “No. I wasn't happy there. I mean, it's a great place. I can see why Chad loves it. But I'm not a small town girl. It was just so…”

Clark laughed. “Small?”

I gave a small chuckle in response. “Yeah.” I paused while I stared at the tabletop. “Is that why you left? Or was it because of…” I made a motion with my hand to represent flying.

Clark looked out the window. “Both, I guess. I mean, I think I felt surer that this is where I needed to be after I traveled. Ever since I realized all I could do I knew I wanted to help, and after traveling around the world I realized how much easier that is in large cities – how much more need there is for that. How much easier it is to hide in plain sight.

“But…” he paused while he took a sip of his drink. “Even before that. I don't know. I never pictured myself staying in Smallville. When we'd go visit Mom's folks in Boston, I loved it. I think ever since I was a little boy I felt like I belonged someplace like that more than Smallville.”

“You were a city boy,” I laughed.

Clark sighed. “Not really. I love Smallville. I think it was the perfect place to grow up and I can't imagine my life without the farm in it. But I never felt like I belonged there. When I was in high school I thought it was because I was different. But now… I don't know. I don't feel that way here. I know I'm different, but it doesn't make me feel like an outsider.”

“You're not,” I told him. “You're more human than almost anyone else I know.”

“Thanks, Lois,” he said quietly. “You have no idea how good that is to hear.”

“Should we go?” I asked.

Clark nodded. “Are you ready?”

“For what?” I asked him.

“For our next front page story,” Clark grinned at me.

“You know what?” I asked as we got up. “I think I am.”