Well, this evening certainly hadn't gone the way she'd planned.

Jenna was walking with angry motions, long legs pumping in a punishing stride that yearned to tear up the center of the sidewalk. The smacking sounds of her steps echoed in the near empty street.

Her stomach remained clenched in frustrated knots as little lines of sweat trickled down her temples. Her cheeks were flushed, but with shame, not exertion. She was hurt and sad which would eventually work its way to furious, she imagined. But she wasn't there yet.

Jenna felt wronged, for lack of a better word. And pointless as it seemed, she was attempting to walk off some of that angst.

But the problem was, she also felt intense guilt because of her own actions. This evening, this situation, this unfortunate experience? It was her own damn fault.

She stopped to toss her cigarette butt in the direction of the corner trash can then immediately slid another from a brand-new pack. Jenna hadn't smoked in fifteen years but this seemed an appropriate time to resurrect this vice.

Wiping away brimming tears she lit the cigarette and deeply inhaled, closing her eyes against the unaccustomed rush. Whoa.

What the hell had she been thinking, anyway?

Jenna enjoyed a very healthy real life relationship, solid and satisfying, safe. As a matter of fact he'd been suggesting lately that they take their partnership to the next level and move in together. He'd hinted at the possibility of marriage. They had plans, serious plans.

So why now? Why did she decide to do this now? Why would she choose this time in her life to push forward with a risky on-line romance?

The entire situation was insane. Traveling 1,100 miles to see a man she'd never before met in person was not an intelligent act. The flight was expensive, so was cab fare to the hotel. Jenna was also very uncomfortable about lying to her partner at home about the trip, lying to her colleagues, lying to herself . . .

Nevertheless, even with the money, the deception, the worries, even with all of that, she never dreamed things would go as badly as they had.

The trip was long and arduous, taking more than nine hours from home to hotel. Her arms ached from carrying luggage and then the cab driver tried to overcharge her. She didn't leave him a tip. After finally arriving, after checking in and unpacking, she took a soothing shower and tried to relax.

Meanwhile Sam, her on-line lover, was late. And as Jenna fretted about in the hotel room, he'd fretted about on the highway. Consequently they were both bundles of nerves before he'd arrived and not surprisingly it just went downhill from there.

As it turned out Sam carried concerns of his own about his safe and healthy relationship at home. Jenna was a fool for not considering his misgivings before this adventure. And once they were together his worries soon became hers.

Instead of the warm greeting, the mutual loving sex, the wonderful consummation of more than a year of online romance, their meeting was stressful, disjointed, the sex was hurried and uncomfortable. Sam was skilled, she found pleasure, but he was so distracted he couldn't. That spoiled the experience for them both.

As soon as they were done, he'd wanted to leave. Sam began to panic about his home, his life. Suddenly all their weekend ideas were threatened, including their plans to do some sightseeing. That was very important in embellishing her cover story, too, even though it had been part of their original agenda.

He'd said, "I should go." And this was while they were naked.

At that, Jenna stared at him in shock before getting dressed. It didn't take her long to pull on shorts and a T-shirt. Sam was still muttering about what he needed to do while she quietly located her room key, some cash, and her cell phone.

Then he said, "I have some money for you, for the hotel," and that was when she'd finally lost it.

"Just leave it on the night stand," she'd said, face flaming as she picked up her Reeboks and stalked out.

Jenna let the door slam behind her before padding down the hall. In the stairwell she'd slipped on her shoes and then raced down the steps in case he was in pursuit. Bursting out the doors at the back of the hotel she took off down the street, putting those tennis shoes to good use, releasing some of that frustrated energy, needing to put distance between the two of them.

But she needn't have worried, Jenna realized now, blowing out smoke in a huff. Sam hadn't bothered looking. She'd been walking around this little oasis of suburbia all alone for nearly an hour.

She found a park bench near a quaint cemetery in the center of town and slumped until she finished the cigarette, then tossed the butt in a nearby ashcan. Burying her face in her hands Jenna groaned, thoroughly demoralized.

But what was she hoping for, anyway? On his list of responsibilities she was dead last. Even though they'd shared major events, joyous and sad, Jenna knew she was the "other woman" in Sam's life. You'd think she would have been used to that feeling of detachment from him by now.

Damn it, anyway, flashed through her mind. This entire situation was ridiculous. What was she doing here in the first place? She gritted her teeth in frustration as feelings of guilt overtook her feelings of rejection.

But what now? What should she do now?

The street lights came on then, it was blue light, twilight hour. It was beautiful, really, in a mournful sort of way. Well, Jenna mused, wishing she could appreciate the view, she couldn't stay on this bench all night. It was time to go back. She got to her feet to begin the long walk. As she retraced her steps a liquor store cheerfully beckoned so she stopped in for a quick purchase. After everything that had happened there was no way she was going to face Sam sober.

Lugging the bottle in the brown paper sack, Jenna lit one more cigarette for the return to the hotel. Her pace was much slower this time, her nervous energy gone.

When she finally arrived she realized that Sam's car was no longer in the back parking lot. It was gone. Was he out looking for her?

But when Jenna opened the door to her room, she saw that his things were missing, too. His one bag, his coat and his camera had disappeared with him. Sam wasn't trying to find her, he'd just decided to leave. Small compensation, he left a stack of twenties by the TV to help her pay for the hotel.

"Fuck," she managed.

That hurt. It hurt more than she thought it would. The sudden ache from their ruined weekend plans tore through her and Jenna collapsed on the bed, giving vent to the tears that had been threatening for hours. Gripping the pillow in both hands she sobbed until the cloth was wet and covered with mascara.

Damn it. And damn him. Damn him for making her cry.

It was full dark outside before she got up, removed the contacts from her aching eyes, washed her face and fixed a very strong drink. With a look of distaste at the bed Jenna wrapped herself in blankets and curled up on the couch of the suite instead. Then she gulped the liquor. Oh, that was good.

She planned to get drunk as quickly as possible so she'd be able to sleep. Flipping through the channels Jenna located a mindless movie for distraction. Another drink, and another, and soon she was numb enough to let the events fade. She snuggled into the blankets and fell asleep on the couch, TV still blaring, remote falling onto the floor.

~

Morning. Ugh.

A hangover on top of misery. Did yesterday really happen?

Yep, it did, and short of a miracle her hassles were not over yet. Jenna tried to ponder her options with bleary eyes and an aching head.

Because of her flight, she was stuck here until tomorrow. This was a strange town, Jenna didn't know a soul, she didn't have a vehicle, and despite the situation she really needed to do some sightseeing to get photos to show friends and family when she returned home.

Sightseeing? By herself? Feeling like this?

Fuck.

As Jenna unsteadily rose to her feet, the blankets fell to the floor in a tangle. She nearly tripped over them before giving the couch a frustrated kick. It was time to get moving. Shower first.

She made the water hot, almost hotter than she could stand but it helped clear her head. Jenna's long hair dripped from beneath the wrapped towel as she brewed coffee in the minuscule 4-cup pot. With enough added sugar it was almost an acceptable drink, though it did nothing for her queasy stomach. But she didn't try to eat. She was afraid her system wouldn't tolerate any food.

It was the misery diet. This could become very popular. She wanted to lose more weight off her hips, anyway.

After getting dressed, Jenna attempted hair maintenance and tried to minimize the redness of her eyes without much luck. Next she gathered her things. Purse, money, room key, camera, and oh, yes, sunglasses. Sunglasses were a necessity. She could hide tangled emotions from the world behind her sunglasses.

She'd start at the front desk, Jenna thought, study the train schedule, find a ride to take her somewhere - well, it didn't really matter where. But she needed to get out of this hotel, out of this room. The unexpected solitude was distressing.

Quiet knocking interrupted her thoughts.

Jenna opened the door, then shook her head when she saw Sam standing there.

"I'm sorry," he said, remaining in the hallway.

"I know. So am I," Jenna replied, not giving an inch. "This weekend was a bad idea all around."

"Are you still planning on sightseeing today?"

"I don't have a choice, do I?"

Sam looked abashed, but nodded. "Do you want company?"

"Company?"

"I know you don't have a car - "

"Why are you here?"

That stopped him for a moment.

"I needed to see you."

That made her tear up all over again. "You don't need to be here for me. I'm fine."

Sam's eyes were filled with despair. Knowing she was the cause made Jenna feel miserable so she turned away long enough to set her jaw.

"I'm fine," she said again, allowing her ire to spark before turning back to face him. It was amazing how quickly the hurt could change into a serious and growing anger.

"I want to help."

"Help?" Sarcasm colored her tone.

"It will be easier for you if we go together. I'm familiar with the area."

Jenna stared at him, then shrugged her shoulders. The way she felt at this moment it was easier to give in rather than to argue.

"Fine."

Sam showed small relief, then stepped back to let her exit. "Let's go, then."

He didn't take her arm, probably a wise move and they rode in strained silence down the elevator to the lobby. Once there she waited while Sam discussed train schedules with the gal at the front desk. The sounds of their chatter washed over her head. It didn't make any sense and Jenna didn't really care anyway.

But when the hotel shuttle pulled up, she began to take pictures. Pictures, pictures. Mute photographic evidence of the marvelous time she was supposed to be having on this little trip. What nonsense.

The shuttle dropped them at the train station where they bought tokens and wandered to the appropriate color line for their destination. A street musician was playing guitar, 12-bar blues, and a small crowd had gathered to listen. Pleased with the distraction, Jenna flipped some cash in his bucket.

Their train braked to a screeching halt, they surged inside with the crowd and quickly found adjoining seats. Sam tried to make clever conversation despite everything but Jenna could only manage brief replies. Though they sat together on the train they could have been in separate cars for their obvious discomfort and distance.

Still they traveled to various historical sites, took pictures, bought souvenirs and did all the usual touristy things. Neither was hungry but finally they got croissants around 1:00 at a little outdoor market. By then her hands were shaking, probably from not eating and having had too much liquor the night before. The food helped.

They managed the day, Jenna in her sunglasses, Sam with his nonstop commentary. Both attempted normalcy as they pretended they were the close friends they'd been before last night.

Finally on the train back Sam put his arm around her shoulders. Sighing, Jenna collapsed against him, weak from emotional fatigue. This was what she had needed all day, this touch, this loving contact. Here was a glimmer of what she thought they had meant to each other.

But once they were back at the hotel, Jenna didn't know what to think. She imagined Sam would be leaving as soon as possible since he fulfilled his original obligations. And as he pulled her into his arms for a last hug it seemed that was his plan.

But for the first time during this tortuous weekend it appeared that Sam was putting himself into their embrace. Jenna felt him, all of him, and when his heart pounded against hers she melted into his arms, shaking with untapped emotion.

Finally he pulled back and she saw her own confused thoughts of love and betrayal mirrored in his brown eyes. Sam stroked her hair, his hands achingly gentle before tipping her chin for his kiss. There was indeed loss, and this was goodbye, and her lips trembled when his mouth pressed firmly against hers.

But their feelings of sadness changed quickly to lust. The kiss became wild and rough with lips anxiously sliding and tongues eagerly tasting. Sam groaned, taking possession, and Jenna sighed into his mouth as she gave herself to him.

This, this was what she'd been missing, the appreciative slide of his hands on her skin, his murmured love sounds as he touched her willing body. Her legs were weak, her hold tenuous, so he maneuvered them to the bed easily, carefully.

Jenna didn't notice him removing her clothes, didn't realize that his were gone too until his warm skin touched hers. She had goose bumps, was chilled, so Sam covered them both with a blanket as he continued to kiss her mouth, her neck, her bare shoulders.

Her nipples were excited nubs against his hard chest and he let his mouth find them too. Writhing, she pressed against him, sighing his name with a need far greater than before. Sam caressed her face before kissing her again, before finding her with tender fingers, before sliding himself into her aroused center.

Jenna closed her eyes and cried out, then kept them tightly shut as he began to move within her. Sam gently stroked in and out before managing a sideways motion that had her climaxing before she'd realized what had happened.

Sighing, Jenna opened her eyes to feel his increased excitement as he pushed toward his own pleasure. She tried to hold on as his strokes increased in power.

"I love you," she whimpered.

Sam closed his eyes and came, gripping her hips for the last few heated strokes. Shuddering, he reached down and pulled her to him. Then they stretched out together on the bed, heartbeats still racing, emotions still taut.

Jenna was in his arms, tightly held when she burst into tears again. This time, Sam was there to soothe, and she sobbed without shame.

He comforted her, for hours it seemed, until she settled. Jenna was limp, completely exhausted from the emotional wreck their planned weekend had become.

Disentangling himself, he placed her on the pillow and pulled the blanket back up over her nude form. Sam kissed her gently, a final goodbye kiss. It was far more bitter than sweet.

As Jenna watched, eyelids heavy, he dressed slowly and carefully. Then, he took a last glance around the room, and at her. Her heart broke because she knew she'd never seen him again.

Sam smiled sadly and then was gone.

Jenna closed her eyes, no more left tears to shed, and let sleep take her.

~

The next morning she was calm and felt more capable, more sure of herself. She showered, prepared, packed her things. It was only after going downstairs for a decent breakfast that Jenna realized it had been nearly 24 hours since she'd eaten. She toasted that fact with more coffee and another sweet roll.

Around 10:00 the young man at the front desk called a cab so she could make it to the airport early. A good thing, as they'd over booked her plane, nearly bumping her to a later flight.

Not today. Today Jenna wanted to go home.

But eventually it all worked out. Both flights were comfortable. The passengers were easy going. Her luggage arrived in one piece at her final destination and her car was safe and sound in long term parking. Now only an hour of driving lay between the airport and home.

Once on the highway she felt as if she were awakening from a dream. Or maybe a nightmare. But no, it was just a dream. One of those ridiculous fairytale fantasies that adults should have no business dreaming.

But this dream had been very educational. Now Jenna knew the value of her real-life relationship, now she realized what the online romance playing had nearly cost her. The fairytale was completely over, and she was whole and still in charge of her emotions.

All was good, or soon would be, because that situation had been put in its proper perspective. It was time to grow up. Her real life relationship was solid, stable, serious and true. Jenna knew she could commit herself completely to him.

She was going home.