Mason sat up to get a better, more comfortable look at Medea. He wanted an explanation for everything. Everything since day one. He'd been waiting month, after month to understand this woman. The woman he was in love with. But every time he thought he had an answer, she ripped it from under his feet again.

She had luck tonight? "If anyone had luck tonight it was me." He interrupted, mumbling. Medea's next words caught him off guard. Yet, they shouldn't have. They were what he had wanted to hear for the last nine months. They were meant to be together. Did Medea really believe that? Then what was all the crap she put him through? What happened at the Cafe? At the restaurant? At the Leaky Cauldron?

And what did she mean by an insurance policy? Mason had a confused look on his face. He reached a hand out and swept the tears off of her cheek, brushing a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "I don't understand..." He repeated quietly. Medea wasn't making any sense and she was crying so much, it hurt Mason.

Even though Mason had been nearly dead not a minute ago, he ignored her attempt at changing the subject. "Medea?" He pleaded. "Please, tell me what you're talking about."