Its kinda funny really. Here I sit waiting, listening for the familiar steps of the man I have sex with as often as I can and all I want to do is hide. Hide from him, from me, from the voices in my head, from the looks of my friends, my colleagues. I guess though you haveta understand the situation to really understand where my desire to hide comes from.

See more often then not, we're meeting up in some dingy hotel room, away from the mansion, away from the rumors for a few hours of hot sex before we step back into our lives. Only problem is I know its not what he wants.

Shaking my head I stare at the wall, yeah he's a man and men love sex - especially free sex but I'm not the one he's dreaming of when he comes, or the one whose name he whispers. Instead I'm the one he ignores when he's done and is going to have a shower because he can't stand the thought of my scent on him.

I don't know what possessed me to do this, to start an affair that frankly I don't think I could have ever believed I could handle. Laying in my own bed at the mansion the guilt eats at my soul, the fear, the unease at being discovered draws me from my slumber most nights and I've spent countless hours in the kitchen drinking coffee. Just thinking, wishing, wanting something I don't think I'm ever gonna get back.

Tonight is the four month marker since the first night I allowed him into my bed out on that dusty ground beside the crashed Blackbird. Four months worth of pleasure and agony, pain and disillusionment. Four months of hiding my tears from everyone and putting a smile on my face each morning.

I can hear the purr of the engine of his wheels and I smile sadly to myself, my pride is gone, my dignity is in tatters. I've had enough, enough of being second choice, of being the one that he turns to because he can, not because he wants to.

If my decision had been weak before, it was made firm, resolute today. I walked into the cafeteria and settled in my usual chair with the rest of the team. Sipping my coffee I nodded as a conversation was carried on around me, my gaze darting to the man who sat kitty-corner across from me. For the first time in God only knows how long I noticed his stare, the look in his eyes and turned my head slightly to see where his gaze was focused so intently, so hotly.

What I saw sent a shaft of longing so deep through me that I felt like crying. He sat there, open desire in his gaze as it rested on her, his body tense, leaning toward her slightly, even as he responded when Storm asked him a question. Watching him I saw more than just lust in his gaze, more than just the need to claim her body. I saw something I never in my life thought that anyone would ever get out of him. I saw love.

He loves her, loves her more than his own life and that's been proven folks! He may fuck me, but he loves her. I wonder why I never noticed it before, never saw beyond the sexual release he granted me or rather himself. I wonder what it would be like for her, with him. Would he take his time, make her come a thousand ways from Sunday or just rush into it like he does with me?

Catching her eye I sigh, hiding it behind blowing on my coffee cup. She loves him - loves him so much that she's ready to flaunt everything she's ever been to be with him. I think if he asked her she'd strip naked and let him do her on the table right now with a room full of people watching!

Hearing the heavy tread of his boots on the wooden walkway my mind snaps back to now and I sigh. I hate myself, I really do because I know when he opens that door, when he steps in he's not going to get a fight. I won't tell him no, I won't tell him he needs to rethink his position. Instead I'll just lay here and take whatever he gives me and I'll spend the night wrapped in tears.

I glance up as the door opens and he stands there, my heart pounding, my hands itching as I stare back at him. Nerves begin to rear their ugly heads as I realize he isn't coming in, he isn't doing anything but standing there staring at me.

"You coming in?" I whisper softly.

Shock fills me as he shakes his head, his gaze steady as he looks at me. "No."

"Oh," I can't bring myself to say much else. I mean after all what can I say?

"I changed my mind," he grunts as he stands there. "I want more than this. I'm leaving."

"Again?" I whisper as I stare at him. "Why? Because of her?" Jesus, when is my mouth going to catch up to my self preservation?

He shrugs coldly, "Yes," he mutters and turns away leaving the door open and leaving me sitting half naked on the bed staring after him.

"Why now? Because she's.."

"Because I love her," he replies firmly, his voice an angry growl I'm familiar with. "And I don't love you. I'm tired of second best."

I sit there listening to his booted feet depart and close my eyes as a single tear escapes. Second best, that's all I am to him!

I dress in stunned silence and drive back to the mansion, slipping into the kitchen and heading for the study. As I pass by I grab the key to the liquor cabinet and a tall glass - tonight I feel like a heady shot of scotch.

Sitting there staring at the amber liquid in my glass I'm startled to hear the door open and I glance up into a pair of wounded eyes. Eyes that should never have to look like that.

"He left didn't he?" the softest whisper strikes me like a whip, cutting to the bone and making me bleed even as I nod.

"Yes, he did," I whisper back painfully. Sitting there I wonder if she's going to leave as she stands in the doorway for a few moments then sigh as I realize she's not leaving. Instead she walks into the room, coming closer and pausing behind a chair.

"Why? Why did you do it?"

I smile sadly and shrug, "I wanted to feel alive," I reply, knowing that she probably isn't going to accept the answer but it's the only one I can offer.

"So you broke his heart so you could feel alive?" there's anger in her voice now, anger and hurt but it doesn't bother me. I have a much more dangerous confession yet to make to someone else - because I do not fear her punishment.

"I never had his heart," I whisper taking another pull of the liquor. "I was always second best, the last resort."

"Bull.." she snarls.

I glance up and stare at her, seeing the wounded pride, the broken heart, the tears in her eyes, and knowing that in my own glib way I'm responsible. I'm the one that told him she was too young, too battered, too scarred to be with. I just didn't realize that of the two of us she is the only one who has a hold of him. "He doesn't love me."

"Yes he did!"

With a sigh I feel a single tear roll down my face and I shake my head. "If he loved me, he wouldn't have been so withdrawn." I tell her. "It would have been about me, not about sex."

She shakes her head at me, fury in every line even as I sit there. I know she doesn't believe me, know that she thinks I'm lying to her but I'm not. If he had loved me with half as much intensity as he loves her he wouldn't have been calling her name out when he came. He wouldn't have insisted on condoms, on me being gone by the time he was finished with his shower. If he loved me there would have been more than just the act.

"I hate you," she whispers tearfully and whirls to go.

I let her get half way to the door before I speak, "Do you have any idea what its like to be with someone who's whispering someone else's name? He fucked me that was all."

"Go to hell."

"I'm already there," I reply as she closes the door leaving me to my misery. I down my drink and reach for the bottle again, building my courage for when I confess to what I've done. I know though I can't tell you how that when I'm finished telling him we may be over, and I know that he's gonna wanna kill the man who disappeared again but there's no need for it. Logan has his own demons he must vanquish and they don't die so easily. No, Logan will never be back and its my fault.

Feeling the effects of hundred year old scotch I stumble up the stairs, pausing as I hear the soft sounds of someone crying in a room familiar to me. I pause outside the door and open my mind, knowing beyond a doubt who it is by the mass of voices, by the confusion in the mind and I rest my head against the cold wood.

I hear the soft, familiar sound of the in-room phone and blink back tears as I hear her pick it up.

"Hello," the tear filled whisper echoes in my soul. "Go to hell!" the anger filled words alert me that she may be about to make a mistake so I use my gifts to stop her. Stop her from hanging up that phone, from severing every single link she has to her heart.

"Let me go Jean," her voice is filled with angry pride and I shake my head its not my call I think even as I head for my room, I have much to discuss with my husband.

I step into the darkened bedroom and take a deep breath, Scott's sleeping already and I wonder if I should wake him up. If I should let him sleep. I finally make a decision and just crawl into bed and curl up on my side to stare at the wall even as the soft sound of Rogue's sobs echo within my mind.

Opening it I listen to a conversation that I should never be privy to, knowing that Logan's doing the only thing he can. He left his heart here, now he's leaving his soul.

"Go to hell Logan, I don't want to hear it."

"Fuck, you think I don't know that?" There's anger in Logan's voice, anger and a pain so deep I can feel it as if he were in the room. "You think I don't know that I fucked up big time? God Marie if I could change things I would but I can't. I just called to say goodbye."

There's a pause, and I feel the shock that runs through Rogue like blood. "Goodbye?" she's whispering now. Like I wouldn't know why.

"Yeah Marie, goodbye. I'm not coming back.."

"But your tags!"

"Keep `em," Logan replies firmly. "Keep `em as a reminder."

"Of what?" Rogue's definitely shaken up. "Of the fact that you don't give a damn about nothing for a reason?"

"No," Logan is calm, toneless. "To remind you that I'm a coward."

"Where are you?" Rogue asks after a second or two pause.

"Hell," Logan said and I know he's about to hang up. "I'm sorry Marie, I fucked up. See I'm not brave like you, I knew I could never have what I really wanted so I took what was offered. Guess I deserved second best huh?" There's a sharp bark of laughter, "But then I've never loved anyone before you so I guess its what I had coming. Be safe Marie, and be happy."

The click of the phone disconnecting makes me blink and I lay there listening to Rogue slowly hanging the phone up.

"He broke it off didn't he?" Scott's soft whisper in the darkness has me tensing and I take a deep breath.

"Yes."

He merely pulls the covers up over his shoulder and sighs before slipping back into sleep, and I feel very alone, very isolated like there's more than a few inches separating us in this bed. I close my eyes and let sleep claim me, the whiskey helping that process along, my last thought is that Rogue should go to Logan, she should go to him, touch him and then she'll see. She'll know the truth, one that Logan's hidden from everyone for so very, very long.