"Hey, Duck," you say, as you hold me in your arms. "Do you remember the time we were fugitives?"

Of course I do.

How could I forget?

It involved Paris.

And Paris is a place I shall always remember.

A place I shall never forget.

Paris: the city of lovers.

It certainly was for you. However, not in the way I had hoped it would be.

If I believed in witches and magic, I would say that Jennifer cast a spell on you.

But I don't. I'm a scientist. I know the truth. Even if, more than a decade later, it still pains me to admit it, to acknowledge it.

You chose her over me. It was as simple as that.

You chose to bed her. To be with her.

You chose her.

Until . . .

Until the moment when I, so furious with you, furious with her, and furious with myself for letting myself be furious, made my own choice. And chose to push a French Policeman, whose only offense had been to mess up the crime scene, off a cliff.

He hadn't been hurt. There had been a lake sixty feet below him. But he had been a Policeman, and as such the full force of the law came down on me. And they issued a warrant for my arrest.

And you chose again.

Only this time you chose me.

You fled with me.

You ensured that I stayed one step ahead of those pursuing me.

You 'persuaded' Jennifer to find us a boat. And told her to 'sort it out'.

And you came with me.

It was a small boat for two people.

Not too small though. Just intimately small.

You could have stayed with her.

You didn’t.

You could have chosen her.

You didn't.

You chose me. And that was the moment I think I truly realized just what I meant to you.

I mattered to you more than she did.

I mattered to you more than your reputation did.

I mattered to you more than your career did.

I mattered to you more than you did.

"Oh, yes, my dearest Jethro," I say, as I lift my head and pull yours down in order that I might kiss you. "I do remember. And do you remember -" But before I can complete the question, your mouth finds mine, and all memories save how much I love you, flee.