She'd spent the entire day trying to track down a new apartment to move into – scouring the classifieds in the Tribune, contacting leasing agencies to inquire about openings, looking at apartments being sublet in the city, and calling anyone she knew that was a renter to see if any other apartments were available in their area.

For the most part, the day had been a huge bust. She'd found a couple of potential apartments that were almost within her price range, but none of them were really singing to her.

Though, Juno thought as she looked out the window and unfocused her eyes, any of those apartments would be better than being homeless, which will be a reality sooner than you think.

Juno squeezed her eyes shut, imagining herself having to pack up all her belongings, all her furniture, everything she owned and moving from one place to the next.

She had long believed there was a level of hell in which the punishment was solely packing, moving and unpacking for all of eternal damnation.

Juno's eyes opened again as the train rumbled to a stop, letting a few passengers hop on and off the platform. She still had a number of stops to go until she approached home, so she knew she could zone out for a while, let her mind wander and not worry about things.

The trouble was, every time Juno closed her eyes, she did worry about things.

About everything.

The doors hissed shut and the train roared out of the station again, whisking Juno that much closer to home – closer to home where all her problems lay.

Juno felt like she was being kicked after she'd already been knocked down by a huge bully on the playground. Since returning from vacation, everything in her life had gone wrong.

When she was prancing around the Scotland countryside with a clone of Jamie Frasier, nothing had mattered, nothing had bothered her. At any given moment during those two days, she'd felt exhilarated, scared, free, cheerful, nervous, happy go lucky, and delirious.

For the first time in her carefully planned, carefully lived life, she had felt alive – not worrying about schedules or keeping up appearances, making a good impression or refusing to take risks.

Since she'd been home, she'd been nervous, agitated, exhausted, beaten, and utterly miserable.

Vacation didn't solve all the world's problems, but it certainly dimmed them for a while, Juno admitted to herself as the L stopped again and a crowd of young women hopped on, decked out in their dancing shoes and glittery eye shadow. She could hear their excited chatter as they discussed the latest club they were heading for, the boys they would meet, the fun they would have all night. Juno blocked out their voices after a few seconds, unable to listen anymore.

As the train gained speed again on the way to the next stop, Juno's mind recalled a line from Terminator – a movie her brother worshipped and made her watch during every family get together. Something about, in the few hours that we had together, we loved a lifetime's worth.

That line had always sounded chintzy and contrived to Juno, but suddenly it resonated with new meaning.

I can't believe this, Juno thought darkly. I'm now gleaning life guidance from a movie about a cyborg with orders to murder Linda Hamilton.

The train stopped at the next station, and Juno watched a couple hop onto the train and sit down, shoulders and thighs touching. They turned their heads and watched each other, oblivious to all the other passengers, to the world outside. They were dressed to the nines, obviously going out on a date to some fancy restaurant or to a show. The girl was smiling, the boy taking her hand and pressing his lips to the backside of it in a sudden show of chivalry.

Juno's stomach twisted as she watched for a brief moment before looking away again.

It was Friday night, and everyone in Chicago was spending time with someone they loved.

Juno was going home to a frozen pizza and a half packed apartment.

She would give everything she had, which wasn't much these days, to go back to living, really living like she had in northern Scotland for those two days. She would give anything to see Jamie again, to see him smile when she walked into the room or said something funny. She would give anything to making this feeling of misery and exhaustion go away for good.

Anything.

Juno glanced around the train car, her eyes widening as she caught sight of a pair of broad shoulders and tousled brown hair. For a moment, Juno dared to believe that maybe…

The man turned around, and Juno sighed.

She'd done that so many times since coming home – saw Jamie Fulham out of the corner of her eye everywhere she went. The man in the drug store, the man walking his dog down the street, this man on the train.

If she didn't know better, she thought she might be going mad.

Juno reached into her pocket and pulled out the business card again. On her first day in Cullen, Jamie had given his business card to her, telling her to call the number on the card if they ever got separated – it would connect to his office, and they could forward it to his phone. She turned the card over and over in her hands, the numbers already burned into her mind. Despite that, she had carried the card everywhere she went since she'd come home to Chicago. She looked at Jamie's name, neatly printed in the center of the card, and her heart hurt.

She couldn't take it anymore.

Digging around in her bag, Juno pulled out her cell phone and flipped it open. She quickly dialed and waited for the call to connect.

"Hello?"

Juno sighed in relief. "Darcy? It's June. What are you doing tomorrow?"

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