Lisa Cuddy sat at her usual table, tableau in her favourite Italian restaurant. Setting for one, entree for one, main for one and if she felt so inclined, dessert for one. She looked around her. Young couples sharing a romantic dinner, holding hands, gazing deep into each others eyes. Couples with children, eating as a family, laughing, talking. She looked around the room, she was the only one alone. Staring down at her half eaten plate of pâtes, pâtes alimentaires she was deep in thought.

Her jour had been relatively normal, until James Wilson appeared in her office. She had always believed he thought they were just friends,...

And I remember when toi said, everything's gonna be alright...Laying in the summer grass, toi told me not to talk so fast...And then I told you, just how I feel...You made me feel right at home, toi told me I was not alone...And toi knew...Just how I feel...

They lay on a picnic rug, on the grass, where the plage met the fields. Staring up at the clouds the two amoureux closed their eyes, nestled arm in arm.

After a moment he opened his eyes, looking up at the clouds. The fluffy white against an electric blue, like her eyes. He gently ran hand along her cheek, her chest gently rising and falling...

Never had a dream come true, until that jour that I found you...I never found the words to say, because you're the one I think about each day...And I know no matter where l’amour takes me to, a part of me will always be with you...

Cuddy knocked on the office of James Wilson. With no answer, she tried the knob. The door opened into an empty office. Walking in she closed the door behind her. Was it wrong to just have a look around? No, she thought to herself. She tentatively walked around his desk, trying his drawers. They were unlocked. Reaching into the drawer she found a letter. Curiosity got...