The devil and the angle perched glumly on Stella's shoulders as she sat on her piano bench looking at the keys. She should be practicing she knew but there seemingly was no energy in her hands.<br/><br/><i>'He's probably at her house right now.'</i>said the angel scratching an itch on her ankle.<br/><br/><i>'yea, I bet she's a great cook too, that spicy hot latin food from a spicy hot latina.'</i>replied the devil, the forked tail lying limply by it's side.<br/><br/><i>'Stella cooks better, though. I bet.'</i>said the angel.<br/><br/><i>'Seriously Wings, this isn't like a cook off or something.'</i>said the devil<br/><br/><i>'gee, just sayin' you know?'</i><br/><br/>Stella rose and went to the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea, and grabbed herself her last industrial size muffin from the freezer.<br/><br/>Thoughts were percolating in her mind, thoughts about - what else -  Anton and Magdalene. She felt played, but she was smart enough to know the only one here who had allowed that feeling was herself. Didn't he have the right to date whoever he chose? He had never given any indication that he was even remotely interested in her. And she had gone out with Brad; he hadn't fussed about it, there had been no posturing between the two men, merely a polite 'how do you do?' It was clear that Magdalene was willing to fight for Anton, the question was ... was she?<br/><br/>Muffin in one and mug in the other hand she retreated back to the window seat and gave it some thought. And the one thing that kept coming back to her was the memory of when he had told her about his wife and son. How such joy had turned into ashes and a sorrow so deep it still seemed to envelope him. Shouldn't he have the right to pick a partner who he felt was right for him? How could she just barrel into that? It just wasn't right.<br/><br/>Telsa jumped up on the seat next to the plate and meowed at her and she fed him a few bites.  The muffin and tea made her feel more settled, more relaxed and stood up and retrieved her knitting. She turned off all other lights in the apartment and just sat on the window seat illuminated by a nearby lamp, and knitted. Counting stitches, paying attention to the pattern and letting thoughts run through her head.<br/><br/>Anton knew she liked him, she knew, or rather Magdalene had made it very clear, that she desired him and would not let her stand in the way, and he would need to decide what he wanted to do. Magdalene, so effortlessly gorgeous, vivacious and openly sexy. She was everything Stella felt she wasn't, how was she supposed to compete with that? She was a scatterbrained, messy haired, red head, who didn't do sexy photoshoots but banged away on a piano for a living.<br/><br/>Her memory went back to the man who was the reason for her move to this city. Kyle had been her boyfriend, until she learned that he slept with his highschool sweetheart two towns over, and always had. Confronted he had said he didn't want to hurt her, said he loved them both. Stella had told him he needed to make a decision, and he had.<br/><br/>There was no way she would make that mistake again. He needed to choose.<br/><br/>It still hurt, even if it wasn't logical that it would. It still did.