A/N: Written to fulfill Evablue's holiday wish for a Emma relapses story on DB. Yeah, I know, a little late. Hopefully you enjoy it! (One of my fanfic 100 stories but so large I thought it deserved to be split out.)

Staring at the well-dressed young man before me, I was suddenly certain I was going to enjoy Sean Cameron's attempts to 'get to know me again' as I clutched the doorway a little tighter than necessary.

I knew he was taking this seriously as he wasn't the type to dress up; he had only worn jeans even on his job interviews. But tonight . . . tonight Sean was wearing a collared shirt, the top button open just enough to tease and a black pair of slacks, a jacket slung over his shoulder with an air of confidence I wasn't used to him displaying. What surprised me most was his hair, which had been cut short again, just a hint of a curl lying on his forehead.

I restrained the sudden urge to run my fingers through it and explore the different length and texture for myself just barely, my hand twitching slightly before I regained control.

"So are you going to let me in or just stare at me this whole time?" Sean asked finally, slowly breaking out into a wide smile, his eyes twinkling.

I moved to the side, opening the door wider, not trusting my voice and all too aware of how warm my cheeks suddenly felt.

As I moved, Sean finally caught a glimpse of my own outfit, a new lavender sundress that draped in such a way that it made even me appear to have curves. I had briefly considered tracking down the designer himself when we were in New York last year to kiss him in thanks, before deciding that it probably wasn't the best way to use our vacation time, even if Manny had been disinclined to agree. Sean's look of appreciation more than helped me gain a little bit of courage as I closed the door behind him.

"Like what you see?" I teased, twirling slightly, completely aware of the way the material clung to various key points of my figure.

"Why Miss Nelson, I never knew you were so forward with boys on a first date," Sean teased back in mock shock.

I stepped towards him and giving into the earlier impulse twirled one of his short curls around my finger. "Well, isn't tonight about getting to know me?" I asked softly.

He grasped my wrist and guided it around his neck as he moved in for a slow, deep kiss. My other hand reached to also rest in his hair as I stepped more fully into his arms. When we came up for air, Sean pushed me back a little more forcefully than I had anticipated and I pouted. I hoped that he wasn't serious about pretending this was a first date. Forget the date; I could spend all night just as we were a moment ago and be completely happy.

I continued my pout as Sean took a step away from me. Apparently Sean was less willing to blow off tonight's date than I. "Em, don't look at me like that. We gotta stop, or you'll ruin all my plans," Sean sighed, although he didn't look exactly thrilled by the prospect of not being joined at the lip either.

"Plans?" I asked, my curious side overtaking my disappointment momentarily. The Sean I knew and loved wasn't exactly big on plans. Reactions, reflexes, spur of the moment choices were more his style than planning something in advance.

"Yes, plans," Sean repeated helping me into my jacket. "Now get in the car and put that lower lip away before I go with Plan B."

Feeling suddenly brave, I turned slightly so that I was whispering in his ear. "What's Plan B?"

I swear I felt the boy shudder a bit before he moved to reopen the door. "It's not the time for Plan B and your parents' house is definitely not the place," he answered, although he wouldn't look at me.

I blushed a bit as I walked through the open door, resolving not to tease poor Sean any more tonight, as much fun as it was to feel so in control of the situation. After all, he had gotten dressed up for me.

Sean closed the door behind me and then sprinted up ahead to open the car door for me, making sure my dress was folded inside before closing the car door. It was cute, how hard he was trying to make things just right.

We made light small talk on the way to the restaurant, debating new movies and current events at school for me and work for him. It was nice to have a conversation that was unimportant and comfortable. It was nice to feel comfortable with him again, period. I hadn't realized how tense I had been keeping what had happened with Jay from him, until it was out in the open. Now, with the stress gone, it was easier to see how heavy it had become. But now . . . now we were finally starting over, demons safely hidden in the past.

Sean pulled into a spot in front of an old brick building. I had helped him move into his new apartment but this was the first time the two of us would be alone together inside of it. Despite my earlier teasing and his insistence that this was our first date take two, I couldn't help but feel nervous about what he had "planned."

Sean led me up the stairs to his second floor apartment and unlocked the doors quickly. There was still a half empty box in the corner to be unpacked, but he had managed to put some pictures on the walls and books now lined two of the shelves in the corner. Sean steered me towards the main focus of the room, a red velvet couch he had found at a garage sale the weekend before.

"Wait right here," he said, smiling. He came back with a silk scarf in hand. I raised an eyebrow in question but said nothing, a little afraid of the implications. I had half worried at first that the revelation of what had transpired between me and Jay would lead to certain . . . expectations, but Sean had never mentioned it again. I was fairly sure he wouldn't now. Still, I couldn't help but worry slightly, twisting the hem of my skirt tightly around my fingers.

"Trust me, okay?" he said, noticing my discomfort.

I hesitated only slightly before I nodded, allowing him to tie the silk scarf around my eyes until my vision was completely obscured. When it came right down to it I did. I trusted him fully and completely – he had saved my life literally and figuratively and I was certain he would never intentionally hurt me. I felt him trail his hands down my bare arms and he squeezed both hands once lightly before leaving.

The moments passed all too slowly as I sat perched on the edge of the couch trying desperately to fight the urge to lift my hands to the silk around my eyes. "Sean?" I wasn't sure what exactly I was asking.

"I'll be right back, Em. You trust me remember?" His voice was already far away. I resigned myself to a few anxious moments, my fingers still kneading the edge of my skirt until I was quite certain the fabric would be forever wrinkled in that one spot.

A few moments later a dip in the couch let me know he was once again sitting next to me and I turned to him instinctively. Whoever said that your other senses were heightened when you lost one was obviously not talking about boyfriend-induced temporary blindness. Otherwise I might have been prepared for what happened next.

Something warm and soft pressed against my lips and I opened them into Sean's kiss enthusiastically. However, he pulled back almost instantly only to replace his kiss with something warm and sticky and far too sweet for words.

I reacted instinctively, pulling back, spluttering and yanking frantically at the blindfold. "What – What was that?"

"Pecan pie." Sean appeared baffled at my reaction, not bothering to wipe the half eaten pie from the front of his shirt. Suddenly his face shifted to one of intense concern as he asked, "Are you allergic to nuts?"

I frantically tried to scroll through the known ingredients of a pecan pie, assigning each a number based on probable calories per serving. One ounce of pecans was 196 calories – 184 of them from fat. There probably wasn't a whole ounce in that bite – so we can cut it down to probably only 20 or so calories – 19 of them fat.

The fact that I hated myself as I did the mental math did nothing to stop me. I realized Sean was staring at me expectantly and realized he had asked a question. "Nuts? No, I'm not allergic to nuts." Never mind that I avoid them as if I were – do you know how high the fat content is for most nuts – not just pecans? I added silently.

His face fell and he put the plate on the coffee table in front of us as he dejectedly picked up pie bits from his front and the couch, placing them on the table. "I'm sorry, Em. I wonder what I did wrong this time. When my mom makes it – it's amazing. Surprising as it is to think of her as a baker, she makes pecan pie that's just heavenly. The rum content probably has something to do with how much she enjoys it, huh?" Sean smiled wryly at the thought before turning to look at me his expression still stricken. "I thought I would surprise you. Imagine, me, Sean Cameron – ex-con, tough guy with a hidden talent for baked goods."

Rum – 64 calories per ounce, although none of them fat calories. It echoed in my brain despite myself as I desperately tried to push it to the side and choose my words carefully. Sean was in Wasaga when my battle with food reached a critical point, which would make it hard to understand. Even those that had been through it with me didn't quite understand. How do you explain that you need to psyche yourself up to eat high calorie foods? How do you explain that while each day you force yourself to do what you know your body needs, that the temptation to see if you have the stamina to hold out is still strong?

The fact of the matter was I couldn't. It would look like excuses and no matter how hard I tried to explain all that would happen is that Sean would look at me the same way Manny and my parents and even Peter did. I didn't want to add Sean to the growing list of people who asked me every day if I had eaten.

I looked into Sean's face and I could see how crushed he was, no doubt mentally adding it to a string of Sean Cameron mess ups and I realized I was stuck. I knew I could not eat the pie in front of me without feeling disgusting, stupid and worthless. I also knew that if I didn't eat the pie Sean would be feeling those same things. So I did the only thing I could.

I slowly reached for the plate, and, bracing myself, took a tiny bite. "It's great, Sean, really."

"Emma, you don't have to force yourself to eat it if it's crappy," Sean muttered trying to take the plate from me.

I did have to force myself to eat it. But not for the reason Sean suggested. I swatted at his hands and took a larger bite. "No, I was surprised before, is all. It's really good. I've never had pecan pie before." I knew he wasn't convinced, suspicion reigning over his features. If I was going to eat this thing, then damn it, one of us should be happy. "Wait a minute," I suddenly stopped, turning towards him. "This is vegetarian, right?" I accused, making sure I kept my eyes on his.

Finally he cracked his eyes twinkling in delight. "I guess I should have left out the bacon, eh?"

I turned around in fake shock, miming getting up to leave before Sean pulled me back down into his arms kissing me deeply. "So you really like it?" he asked, pulling back suddenly and searching my face for signs of sincerity.

Never play poker with Emma Nelson, I thought wryly as I met his gaze. "Got any more?" I asked.

Three pieces of pecan pie later, Sean returned me to my front step with only a peck of a good night kiss. I mewed in protest, but Sean merely laughed as he walked down the steps. "Why, Miss Nelson, I never knew you were so forward on a first date!" he called back over his shoulder.

I murmured a goodnight to my parents and Manny, still cleaning up after their own dinner and found my way into the downstairs bathroom where I reconciled making Sean feel better by alleviating my own guilt. I knew I should have felt more ashamed of how easily it came to me, but I felt so comfortable with the pie gone. I didn't have to tally the calories of all the pecans and the butter and the sugar and the rum because it was gone. All gone. Sean felt better and so did I. And there was nothing to worry about because it was a one time thing.

The next time was easier than the first. Sean and my second date had been the movies, where I had begged off the popcorn by implying I wouldn't kiss anyone who may possibly have a kernel stuck in his teeth. The third date however, was a "just like old times" pizza and movie night.

I went about trying to find a movie that was a good mix of action and romance to entertain both individuals equally as I heard Sean order the traditional "double cheese" to be delivered.

One helping of ooey gooey overly greasy mozzarella was more than enough in my opinion. Too much already, really. Two was beyond comprehension. Still the look on Sean's face as he told me he remembered "our favorite" was too sweet. I couldn't ask him to call back and order just a regular amount of cheese. So I had two pieces before I ducked out of the movie's big finale, claiming the bombs were too much for me, escaping to the downstairs bathroom.

After that, the excuses came more easily. On Mom's birthday, I had gotten the piece of birthday cake with the biggest butter cream rose and that wasn't fair. It needed to go. I had forgotten to bring a diet coke to school and couldn't turn down the regular soda Liberty offered me, but I also couldn't keep it down. There wasn't enough lasagna to save and I couldn't bear to waste any so I had thirds before wasting it into the downstairs toilet. The portions at Sean's favorite restaurant were too large, but I couldn't leave food behind on my plate without him thinking there was a problem, so I left it behind in the restaurant's washroom.

I didn't have a problem. These were all isolated incidents.

Deep down somewhere, I didn't really believe that, but I still found myself unable to stop. And it was easier to fool Sean than my parents or Manny, him not having seen the telltale symptoms and the lies the first time. I hated myself for lying so well he didn't notice something was wrong. I hated him that he didn't know me well enough to notice I was lying. But I was determined to see not only how far I could push myself, but how far I could push him.

If this was a real relationship and I challenged him, then why wasn't he challenging me? I stood beside him as his world was collapsing around him and he didn't even notice when mine was doing the same.

A week later I excused myself from the table as soon as Sean and I finished our veggie pad thai.

"I'm going to change into something more comfortable," I teased, ignoring the growing guilt in my stomach as I once again lied.

"Wear the blue plaid pajamas, Em, you know how I go crazy for flannel," Sean called over his shoulder, too busy with scraping the dishes to even look at me.

I felt more slighted than I should have. My boyfriend was doing the dishes for me, without being asked. I should be overjoyed. But all I could think was, no wonder he hadn't noticed, as I stomped down the stairs two at a time. I didn't have an excuse this time and I didn't bother to think one up, too upset that Sean was failing a test he didn't realize he was taking. It wasn't fair, but it was what I felt I needed.

I rinsed my mouth quickly and wiped the back of my hand roughly. I didn't want to take too long or Sean might notice. I wanted him to know, but I didn't want to tell him with my words or actions. I just . . . wanted him to know.

I stopped the moment I stepped out of the bathroom, to see Sean sitting on my bed, holding my blue plaid pajama pants. "Looking for these?" Sean asked, his face clouded.

I couldn't read his expression at all and it bothered me more than I cared to admit. I stood still for a minute, caught, before I quickly snatched them away from him. "I thought I had left them in the bathroom this morning," I lied, meeting his gaze without flinching.

He sighed and for a moment I thought he knew, but he said nothing. I turned to go into the bathroom to change unsure whether I was relieved or disappointment when I heard him say something, so softly I almost missed it.

"I hate when you do that."

I turned around slowly, my grip on the pajama pants tightening until my nails dug through the material into my palms. "Do what?" I asked forcing a lightness into my voice I didn't feel.

"Lie to my face," Sean said. I looked up quickly to gauge Sean's anger level, but found only disappointment. "I think a month was plenty of time; don't you?"

"Time?" I was caught; I knew it and suddenly deflated, slumping down where I stood to rest against the doorjamb fiddling with the pajamas in my hands.

"Time to let you tell me what was wrong. Time to allow you to confide in me. Time to show you I wasn't running away this time, that I would stick by you no matter what," Sean's voice gained in volume with each declaration, until he sighed and looked up at me. "Time for you to trust me."

"I do!" I replied immediately, louder than I intended. "I trust you with my life." How could I explain that it was me that I knew couldn't be trusted?

"With your life maybe, but not with this, Em," he said sadly. "I'm sorry I hurt you so badly that you can't tell me when you need me. Instead you look me in the eye and lie, telling me what I want to hear."

I hated that to him everything was always his fault. Maybe he had admitted I wasn't perfect, but he wasn't willing to admit that I could make mistakes in the relationship; they were always his to make. It drove me crazy. "Well, I hate when you do that! Not everything is about you. This is not about you, Sean Hope Cameron!" I answered angrily.

"Then tell me what it's about, Em! Because I've been waiting a month for you to tell me exactly why you are trying to kill yourself again and I'm frankly at a loss!" I had pushed too far, this time Sean was angry as well.

I took a deep breath and allowed myself to calm down before one or both of us exploded making yet another violent episode in the Emma/Sean epic love story. "It's . . . complicated." The answer sounded lame even to myself but I couldn't even put into coherent thoughts what I was thinking in doing making words that much more impossible.

"Then explain it to me," Sean said forcefully.

The look that he gave me told me clearly that all the time he hadn't been falling into any of my traps. He knew me so well, better than I knew him. Maybe better than I knew myself. But still, I couldn't explain. Despite wanting to take my share of blame for things as they were, my pride wouldn't allow him to know how messed up I was. He knew I wasn't perfect after the revelations about Jay . . . but he didn't – couldn't – know how far from perfection I really fell. "I can't," I finally choked out, burying my face into the pajama pants in my hands.

Had I looked up I would have seen Sean's look of despair at my tears. Had I looked up I would have seen him start to approach me before thinking better of it. Had I looked up I would have seen the beginnings of tears appear in his own eyes. As it was I only heard the door to my room slam shut as Sean Cameron walked out on me.

The next week I could hardly eat anything. It had little to do with counting calories or gaining control, in fact, I wanted to eat so badly. I didn't want to raise suspicion with my parents or Manny, in part, but mostly I just wanted to be healthy so I wouldn't have to explain anything to Sean. If there was nothing wrong, then I had nothing to confess. We could go back to the way it does.

However, if it was hard to eat before "The Fight" as Manny had taken to calling it, knowing neither the reasons nor the particulars, but only that Sean and I were not speaking at the moment, well, it was fairly impossible to eat afterwards. Everything tasted like sawdust and the sight of anything greasy made my stomach clench in a mixture of nausea and heartbreak.

It was unbelievably scary how quickly and easily Sean had been able to cut me out of his life and I realized how little we had in common these days. He didn't go to school with me. He no longer crashed on my parents couch. We had no mutual friends. Sean Cameron had managed to drop off the face of my earth with ease and it killed me a little bit more each day.

This wasn't him in Wasaga, a far away and distant memory. It was far more torturous to know that he was in my city, perhaps moments away and that all I needed to do was tell him the truth – or at least the closest I could manage with inadequate words. Yet I couldn't figure out how to apologize for being me – warts and all. Nor could I explain to him why I had spent a month lying to his face. There was no explanation.

And I couldn't help but think that for the first time in our relationship and really, in Sean's life, he hadn't run away at the first sign of trouble. No, he had waited an entire month for me to confide in him before pulling his disappearing act. It wasn't as comforting as I had hoped it would be.

When I finally decided I needed to see him, almost another full week later, to try and explain, even though I knew I couldn't, fate was against me.

I took the car to his garage for an oil change and tune-up even though I knew Joey would do it if we so much as asked. He wasn't working when I reached the shop. Jay was there, I saw him working with a complicated metal thingy on the tire of a jeep, but he refused to meet my gaze. I couldn't help but feel the stab of pain. He knows. I thought irrationally, trying to stop my erratic breathing and suddenly speedy heartbeat. Of course Sean would tell his best friend we had broken up and why. I just hadn't expected it to hurt much, being snubbed by Jay. I hurriedly told the mechanic who took my keys that I'd be at the ice cream shop next door, practically running away from Jay and memories. Hey, Gorgeous.

Sean wasn't there when I picked up the car either, not that I expected him to be. Jay had no doubt warned him away. As I drove home, the new wiper blades wiped away the rain much faster than my hands could wipe away my tears.

I started hanging out at the Dot after school, going with Liberty and Toby after student council meetings or with Manny after cheer practice. On days that I couldn't find a friend I'd bring my books and sit in a corner booth, studying and doing homework. I knew that he and Spinner kept in touch. I knew that Sean craved the Dot French fries on a weekly basis. I also knew that I was taking up a prime table and ordering as little as I could stomach, but Spinner never said anything to me. He just refilled my Diet Coke as it emptied and brought me extra fries on the days I could work myself up to ordering them, a pitying look on his face that I couldn't quite be offended by. I was pitiful. And Sean never came.

Manny talked me into going back to therapy and I agreed, reluctantly. I couldn't tell her that I knew the building was the same one that had housed Craig's group when he had been living in Toronto. It was stupid and jealous and completely irrational, but I needed to make sure that Sean wasn't avoiding me in favor of a beautiful redhead. I saw her once or twice and made awkward small talk of the type you make with someone you used to know, but never really were friends with. She never mentioned Sean and I didn't either.

It was not just these attempts but a thousand different others that convinced me that this time, Sean wasn't coming back. And I had no one to blame but myself.

"Is it coriander the seeds of the plant and cilantro the leaves or vice versa?" I murmured as I stared at the shelves of miniature bottles.

The list in my hand said "ground coriander" and I had no idea what my mother had in mind or which would help make the ginger snaps recipe she was dying to try.

I grabbed both the bottles of both the seeds and the dried leaves, determining to find some recipe that used the spare later, so that it wouldn't waste.

It was a huge step, being able to set foot in the grocery store. Even if Mom didn't know of my relapse, she knew how hard it was to do anything with food. I could tell she was proud of me. Somehow, knowing that I had managed to work through my issues after it was too late made it all the more ironic. I'd call it tragic if it didn't feel completely melodramatic to refer to your own life as such.

I realized I was lost in my thoughts and had somehow wandered into the frozen food section. Sighing, I stopped abruptly and turned around, to head back to get the molasses when I found myself crashing into someone reaching for frozen pizza.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, reaching for the boxes of pizza that had spilled onto the floor. Amy's organic spinach feta. My favorite. I looked up, startled that anyone else cared for such a picky pizza, only to find myself staring into two blue eyes I knew better than my own.

"Emma." He sounded completely surprised and not entirely pleased.

"I'm sorry," I repeated, hastily scrambling up. He had been avoiding me. He didn't want to see me. And as much as I needed him, I loved him too much to be a burden. But as badly as I wanted to get away, I couldn't seem to find my list. "Damn," I whispered, spinning a bit as I searched the floor for the scrap of paper I had dropped.

Sean stood mid-spin and crashed into my elbow. Ow. "I'm sorry," I repeated again, helpless to do much more.

Sean gave me a wry smile as he stood again rubbing the back of his head where it had collided with my elbow. "So you keep saying. No matter how hard I try to stay away from you, I seem to be the one that keeps ending up hurt, eh?"

I stopped at that, wondering whether he meant more than our most recent crashes and his eyes widened as he realized what his words could mean. He started to say something, but I cut him off.

"No," I said, shaking my head firmly. "You're right. I was awful. And I'm sorry. I know you didn't expect to see me or want to really. I'll find the molasses at another store."

I walked away, trying not to cry, heading for the nearest exit as quickly as possible. I knew I hated grocery stores, I thought irrationally.

"Emma, wait!" I heard him call out behind me and I sped up trying to outpace him. I heard shouting and commotion behind me but I blocked everything out as I spied the green exit lights.

I didn't stop until I had made it out the door, singularly focused on achieving my goal and, as always, unbelievably stubborn once I had set my mind to something. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath and revel in my victory, carefully trying to think of where the car was. I couldn't stop long, Sean wasn't far behind.

I heard footsteps running behind me and I started to make my way out into the snow when I felt a hand on my elbow.

"Now, wait just a moment, Miss," the balding man next to me said. I took in his black uniform and patch on the left shoulder before looking up at his face, feeling my brow wrinkle in confusion.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, trying desperately to wipe away my tears and appear as normal as possible. It was bad enough that I had almost had a breakdown in a grocery store, which my therapist would have a field day with. The fact that it was public wouldn't make it much better.

"Well, it all depends on whether you were actually planning on purchasing those spices, Miss," he said, his voice much sterner than his words let on.

I looked down to see that I still gripped the coriander and the cilantro tightly and that I had left the store. "Of course! I'm so sorry!" I started spluttering but before I could explain, Sean came barreling out the doors behind me.

"Emma, you waited!" he exclaimed, before catching my look of concern and the man holding onto my arm. The grip on my arm tightened at once and looking at Sean I suddenly understood why. Clutched in his hand, no doubt forgotten in our fight, was the frozen pizza.

"Let's just go back inside, then, shall we?" the security guard asked, pushing me in front of him. I heard him reach into his pocket and take out a radio. "I'm going to need some help on the south exit. Shoplifters. Two of 'em."

I sat on the cold metal chair trying to fidget without much luck. We were in the back room of the store, waiting for my legal guardian and whoever they had to call for Sean. Neither of us had spoken since being led back here what seemed like forever ago, but in actually was probably only about ten minutes.

At first I had been grateful, lost in my own thoughts, but with each passing second I grew more frustrated. "ARGH!" I finally exclaimed, standing suddenly. "Why couldn't you just leave me alone? I was trying to help you? Do you have any idea how much trouble we're in?"

Sean looked surprised that I was speaking to him before his face darkened considerably. "Considering I'm out on parole, yeah, I've considered that fact once or twice."

I sat back down, speechless again, although this time it was guilt-induced. I had been so selfish and caught up in how embarrassed I had been that I hadn't stopped to think about what this might mean to Sean. "I suppose this time it is about you," I said, remembering the last time we had talked. I laughed wryly although it wasn't funny and I didn't think it was, really. I felt my heart clench at the thought of him being sent back to jail because I was being stupid and afraid of him and felt completely small and unworthy.

"It always is, Em, isn't it?" he asked, looking straight at me.

I hadn't been around him for over two weeks and although I hadn't forgotten the way he made me feel, no memory compared to the heat when his gaze was directly on me. "I'm not sure what you mean. I know you've been avoiding me, and I was trying to make that easier for you, really. I don't know why you had to follow me."

"I'm not avoiding you," he replied quickly. Too quickly.

I stared back at him, letting him know that I knew he was lying and he eventually caved. I had warned him not to play poker with me, but perhaps I should have done so verbally. "Well, I don't want to be avoiding you."

That caught my attention. I sat back down and put my head in my hands trying desperately not to cry. I didn't understand why he would be avoiding me if he didn't want to, I didn't understand why I couldn't confide in him and most of all I didn't understand why I couldn't eat a stupid piece of pecan pie to begin with.

"Then why are you?" I asked softly, thinking it made the most sense to start at the beginning.

"I'm trying to help you!" Sean shouted as if it explained everything instead of making it all that more confusing.

"Excuse me?" I really needed to know how he thought making me completely miserable was helping in any way. "How exactly is running away when I once again needed you most helping me?"

"Your . . . eating disorder," Sean stumbled over the words as if they were a foreign language. I suppose to normal people they were. "I thought if I stayed away, you would be able to get healthy again."

"How did you figure that?" I asked, trying to make sense of logic that defied me.

"Because you were fine before I came to town and then I come back and I drive you to make yourself sick again," he explained as if in doing so he had explained everything.

"I told you that had nothing to do with you," I insisted again. This entire time he had been making my life miserable because he thought it would make me eat?

"But it did," he insisted stupidly. "I mean look at what happened after I left. You started eating again – not just meals but snacks! And you hang out around food – I mean, look, I ran into you in a grocery store and tell me you could have set one foot in here three weeks ago. You're even seeing a therapist again!"

"Sean," I started weakly, trying to figure out how to explain that while all of these things were true they had nothing to do with him. Suddenly my eyes narrowed as I realized something. "How did you know all that?"

He had the decency to look a bit shamed as he answered. "Jay told me you went to the garage. I wanted to call you, but when he said you were at the ice cream parlor next door . . . then Spinner told me that you were hanging out at the Dot more and how he would bring you extra fries. Fries that weren't being hidden in pockets. As for the therapist, I ran into Ellie at the Dot last Friday and she told me that you were meeting with someone around the same time as her group."

I snorted at the irony that for all my hours at the Dot it was Ellie that had run into him there. Sean paused at this interruption and looked at me.

"Em . . . I love you." I took a minute to let the words I had waited for so long to sink in before I moved to try and reciprocate. He put up his hand to stop me where I was and continued. "But I won't let being with me cause you to starve yourself. If being away from you is what's best for you, then you won't see me again. I'm not running away from my problems. I'm just not allowing myself to become yours."

The stupid idiot was trying to be so noble that I was hard pressed whether to sock him or kiss him senseless. I settled for both.

"Sean," I said softly standing over him. When he looked up, I leaned down to straddle his lap and kissed him softly. He tried to push me off before finally giving in and kissing me back, turning my gentle kiss into something more desperate, something with the need both of us had felt in the weeks apart.

I pulled back eventually and hit him, once, hard on the shoulder.

"Emma!" His voice was exasperated.

"Well, next time you're trying to help me, talk to me first – or at least listen when I do talk," I lectured. "This wasn't about you. It was never about you. Well, until you decided to be all stupid and shoplift."

He lifted his eyebrow at me at that remark, but I closed my eyes, determined to keep going. It had taken me almost two months to confide in him, and I couldn't stop now or I never would.

"My . . . disease . . . disorder . . . whatever you want to call it . . . it's not something that will just – go away, you know? It's not like I was all better and then you and I went out and suddenly I'm sick again. I'm sick all the time. I will always be sick," I confessed trying not to feel a little more worthless with each word. "It has nothing to do with you or anyone else and everything to do with me. I don't need you to try and remove my stress or remove yourself. I just . . . I just need to know you are there and that I can count on you."

"I'm sorry that you ever doubted that," Sean said, pulling me close and just holding me. "Can you forgive me for being so selfish?" he whispered into my hair.

I took a minute to just enjoy the feeling of his arms around me again, feeling safe and protected. "Only if you forgive me for being too selfish to confide in you before. I didn't want to let you know how messed up I was."

"Emma, I don't think you're messed up at all," he insisted. "You said so yourself. You're sick. And I'm going to make sure you stay well."

The sound of a throat clearing in the doorway caused us both to jump apart, almost guiltily. My mom stood there, her mouth tight in an angry line, but her eyes seemed a bit more amused at the situation she found us in.

"If you two have worked that out, I can let you know that you are both free to go," Mom said from the doorway. "You're not being charged, but you have been asked to find another supermarket to do your couples' therapy."

I wanted to tease back but I was so relieved that Sean was safe from prosecution that all I did was turn back into his arms and celebrated with a long kiss. I may never be able to deal with food properly, but as long as I had Sean by my side, I found that nothing else mattered.