Unconditional

Will stretched behind his desk and yawned. A quick glance at the clock told him it was five already, and the stack of papers on the desk bestowed him with foul thoughts. He pushed them away as soon as they bubbled up, however. There was no time to feel sorry for himself. After all, he could have simply saved some of the work for tomorrow, but he had made the choice to do it all today. He clenched his jaws and dove into the stack of papers once again, sorting through queries and filing reports. 1

Putting himself into overdrive, Will managed to finish the impossible-looking stack of papers in under an hour. He rubbed his forehead and checked one last time to be sure he'd done everything. The desk was tidy and the stack of papers were in the drawer labeled 'processed'. Will nodded to himself, stretched again, got up and put on his jacket. As he pushed his chair against his desk, three co-workers walked by, and seeing him, they stopped.
"Will, what are you still doing here?" the tallest, known around the office as Eddie, asked. Eddie was a vague man with frizzy red hair, but happened to be a good friend of Will.
"There were some things I needed to take care of," Will said, straightening his tie.
"But you're done now, right?"
"Yes," Will said and picked up his suitcase.
"Excellent," Eddie said, "right on time to have dinner with the guys. Ribs 'n burgers, baby!"
Will felt his mouth water at the mention of fried meat things. Hamburgers danced before his eyes.
"Can't do," he said, "I got prior engagements."
"You sure?" Eddie said, raising an eyebrow. "You look really hungry."2

Will was really hungry, but he declined again. "Another time," he said, waving as he walked out of the office.
Down the hall he ran into his boss, a big man with a small amount of black hair.
"William!" the boss almost yelled.
"Mr. Harken," Will said.
"Please," Harken said, "I thought I told you to call me Fred. You're too polite, William."
"I'm sorry, sir," Will grinned.
"Now you're just teasing me," Fred Harken laughed. "Anyway, it's good that I ran into you. There's a meeting with some big chiefs at a fancy restaurant. You're the best guy in our department. Want to come with? If you strike an impression you might be able to work a promotion out of it."
"Sorry," Will said, biting his lip. "Can't tonight."
There was surprise in Fred Harken's face. "You can't? You must have something important then. You're usually all about the work."
"I am?" Will said.
"Yes, you are. And you know it. I mean, look at the time. What are you still doing here at this hour?"
"Oh," Will chuckled. "Yes, I was working late but that's because-"
"No lame excuses, William," Fred laughed. "You're a workaholic and you know it."
Will shrugged, content to let Harken think what he wanted.
"Thank you for the offer, sir, but I really must go now."
"Alright then, off you go," Harken said, clapping Will on the shoulder. "And stop calling me sir."
"Yes sir," Will called over his shoulder as he left the building. 3

Will crossed the street quickly to where his car was parked and got in. He checked the bag on the passenger seat and satisfied that everything was there, started the car. He glanced at his watch and winced.
The streets were relatively quiet, thankfully, and Will made good time. He made a quick stop at a video store, running in and out with a dvd-box and some ice cream. Then he hurried home.4

He opened the door and stepped in. The faint smell of food cooked and then left to cool drifted to him through the narrow and cozy hallway.
"Isabelle," Will called, "I'm home."
"About time," he heard from the living room.
"I'm sorry I'm late," he said as he walked into the combined kitchen and living room. "There were some things I needed to take care of."
Isabelle was sitting at the table, a slight look of annoyance unable to ruin her stunning features. Large brown eyes looked at Will from under blond curls. Freckles dotted Isabelle's slim face.
"Things, huh?" Isabelle said. "Were those things more important than dinner, buster?"
"Oh yes, my dear Isa," Will said as he held up the bag from the car, "they most certainly were."
"You bring gifts to appease me?" Isabelle said, barely able to hold back a smile. "What's the occasion?"
"It's been one year exactly since you got out of the hospital," Will said, fishing out a CD from the bag. "You always said you wanted to dance to this song."
Suddenly there was sadness in Isabelle's eyes. "You know I can't dance anymore, Will."
Will put the CD in the stereo and pressed play, then turned to Isabelle. "What are you talking about? Of course you can."
He crossed the room to Isabelle and lifted her from her wheelchair.
"Maybe not by yourself," Will said as he looked into her eyes, "but you've still got me."
Tears sprung into Isabelle's eyes as she hugged Will tightly, feeling his strong arms carrying her around the room. He swayed her to the music and this way, they danced together to Isabelle's favorite song. 5

"Will," Isabelle said softly, letting a tear roll down her cheek.
"I also brought The English Patient and ice cream," he whispered in her ear.
"But that movie is long, and it's already late. Don't you have work tomorrow?"
"I stayed late and did it all today," Will said, "I managed to get tomorrow off."
Even though he couldn't see her face, he knew she was smiling. "Don't worry about anything," he said.
"But what about dinner? It's been getting cold."
"Sweetie," Will said, "there's not a microwave in the world that could ruin your cooking. Now stop worrying and dance with me."
Content that Will had thought about everything - as she had known he would - she stopped talking and let her head rest on his shoulder and closed her eyes, letting him hold her and rock her to the music. A smile spread across her face and she gripped him a little tighter - resolving to never let him go.