He should love her.

He's never known a mind like hers. She challenges him, stimulates him, makes him work. No one has ever done that for him the way that she does.

They can be together like this. She's beautiful and willing. Not willing- eager. Eager for him as old and damaged as he is.

He tries. He flirts. He encourages. And when her mouth collides with his, he wants it to be wonderful.

Instead he is intellectually aware that yes, there are lips pressed against his. And that's it.

He lets her think that this is about Gloria. He wishes it was.

He tries not to think about chestnut curls and bright blue eyes. He tries not to think that if it was Belle's mouth against his, they'd already be on the bed. He tries not to think that the merest brush of Belle's hand does things to him that having Mandy pressed full-length against him doesn't.

He lets her think that maybe this is a temporary setback. Because he has needs, and Belle can scarcely look at his face. He knows why. He's seen pictures of her husband.

Mandy makes him think, but Belle makes him smile. She makes him warm. That shouldn't matter to him, but it does. So much.

He thinks sometimes about shaving, finding something nicer to wear. He doesn't care who she sees as long as she's looking at him.

He would rather be Belle's substitute than Mandy's everything, and someday that's going to ruin all three of them.