Betty held the pristine envelope in her hands; written on Roosevelt hotel stationary, in a handwriting that was wonderfully familiar and comforting to her. Her hands trembled as she read the words once more.

Dear Betty,

I'm sitting in the Roosevelt looking at the backs of Bobby and Sally's heads as they watch TV. I'm not letting them change the channel because watching the news makes me sick and they can see it. I think about you, and how I behaved, and my regret. I know it's my fault why are you not here right now. I understand why you feel it's better to go on without me, and I know that you won't be alone for very long. But without you, I'll be alone forever. I love you.

-Don

Her eyes welled with tears, sullying the creamy white paper. Holding it to her chest, she let out a deep breath, sinking into one of the kitchen chairs. Closing her eyes, she was thankful that the children were at Carlton and Francine Hanson's for the evening. A loud clasp of thunder from the outside rainstorm forced her to open her eyes and once more focus on the present.

She could hear his voice in the words; feel his very presence next to her. Betty imagined
Don wrapping his arms around her in a tight, comforting hold. It had been over two months since she kicked him out of the house, after one too many painful betrayals. I wasn't respectful to you. Don's admission of guilt summed up years of broken promises and dreams that they shared during their ten year marriage. In a rare moment of honesty, he admitted that he had wronged her, and even seemed penitent for his indiscretions. Don, who spent years hiding his ways, lying to my face about his actions. What could possibly make him be so honest now?

It was true, that Don never told Betty he loved her. Donald Draper was never one to share his emotions or feelings; he felt that it weakened him as an individual. He preferred to keep things close to the vest, and that included with his wife Betty.

She often doubted his affections toward her; with each cursory kiss in the morning as he left for work, every night that he came home late from the office – often having unfamiliar and foreign scents with him, made her question his loyalty to her.

She had been terrified of confronting him; terrified of having her great fears confirmed, or worse, losing him forever. His latest escapade was worsened by the fact that it was made public. Don, who was usually so careful, had been sloppy with his mistresses, leading information to be leaked straight to her, in a very public way.

The humiliation was the last straw for Betty Draper. She had trained herself to deal with lonely nights, lack of intimacy, and belittlement in private. But she would not be publically humiliated or ridiculed by him. It took him several days to admit to her that something had happened after their confrontation, his first step always being adamant denial, going so far as to accuse her of cheating on him with the husband of the woman that he was sleeping with – the husband who opened his big mouth to her and spilled Don's precious secret. In an act of desperation, she threw him out of the house.

He had tried to contact her, reason with her, convince her to let him into the house. She allowed him to see the children each week, not wanting them being deprived of their father, who though never proved faithful to her, loved his children very much.

Thumbing her exquisite diamond solitaire ring, Betty tearfully wept, knowing that she would trade every piece of jewelry, every expensive fur, just to hear Don affirm his love for her. Looking at the letter once more, now soaked with her tears, she knew she had to see him again. She quickly picked up the phone and called Francine, asking her to keep the children a little longer than anticipated.

A torrent of rain continued to fall onto the New York City streets, but Betty didn't care. Throwing money into the cab drivers hand, she bolted for the doors of the Roosevelt hotel, ignoring patrons staring in the lobby. She knew the room number by heart and grabbed a final breath as she knocked on the door. It never occurred to her to check and see if he was even in the room that night.

Wiping her brow she was at a loss for words as the door opened, reveling advertising executive Donald Draper standing before her. "Betty?" Don questioned, glancing at her soaked appearance.

Betty let out a short breath as Don reached for her hand and pulled her into the room.

"Is it your father?" Don asked, referring to the all too recent series of strokes suffered by Betty's father, Gene Hofstadt. Don's eyes begged Betty to say something, anything as concern washed over his face.

"Did you mean it?" Betty asked finally, looking into Don's deep eyes for reassurance. Don said nothing, asking for her to continue. "The letter." Betty pulled the Roosevelt stationary out of her jacket pocket and showed it to him. "Did you mean what you wrote?"

"Every word," Don said in a low voice.

Betty let out a soft cry and ran into her husband's arms, throwing her arms around his neck. "I…..I…." Betty cried into Don's chest as he lovingly rubbed her back.

"You're trembling," he said softly, knowing that she needed to get out of her wet clothes and into something warmer to keep from catching a chill in the New York weather.

Betty finally looked up and found all of the comfort and reassurance she was searching for. "I've missed you."

Don gently brushed the tears from the corners of her eyes. He gently pulled her body a little closer to his, leaning down for a soft kiss on her mouth. It was all he could do; there were no words that would justify or explain his feelings for her.

Betty readily accepted his romantic gesture, letting out a soft moan of delight as Don scooped her up in his arms and placed her on the bed, lowering the sleeve of her dress. He showered her upper body with kisses as he lowered the dress down her body, eventually allowing it to fall to the floor. Betty hastily unbuttoned Don's dress shirt as he continued his perusal of Betty.

The morning sun streaming in through the hotel window woke Betty from her peaceful slumber. Turning her body, she was surprised to find Don gazing at her from his side of the bed.

"You couldn't sleep?" she asked softly, caressing his cheek.

Don shook his head, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. "I'd rather watch you." He pulled her closer to his body, propping her against his chest. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever accept me again."

Betty closed her eyes, inhaling his strong scent. "Two months is a long time to be away from someone."

Don tilted her chin up and brought his lips to hers. "I never once stopped thinking about you. I saw you everywhere." Don let out a laugh. "I swore that I was going crazy."

Betty snuggled closer, tracing her fingers up and down Don's chest. "Promise me that you won't ever disappear again."

Don peered down and gave his word. Wrapping his arms around her body he asked her if she was hungry.

Betty's face paled at the thought of food, her pregnancy giving her the most unusual cravings and urgings imaginable.

"Betts?" Don asked as she watched his wife check the clock on the bedside table. It was seven o'clock in the morning. He touched her shoulder, causing her to turn her head.

"I suppose it's exhaustion," she explained meekly. "Being alone with the kids, we all missed you." She lowered her head. "I lied when I told you that it wasn't all that different."

Don pulled her onto his lap and nuzzled her hair. "I'm here now," he promised. Picking up the phone on his side of the bed, he asked her what she felt like eating. "You need to eat," he urged her, recalling Sally's latest announcement that 'Mommy doesn't eat'. Don quickly called the twenty-four room service, a full breakfast plate for himself and Betty.

"I haven't slept this well in ages," Betty admitted as she wrapped her body in one of the hotel complimentary robes, fetching the breakfast tray from the hotel attending. Climbing back into the bed, she snuggled next to Don, positioning a juicy strawberry on her fork. "Umm," she moaned.

Don poured himself a cup of coffee, watching Betty dig into her plate.

"Still watching me?" Betty asked, suddenly feeling self conscious, she felt her cheeks redden.

"I've just missed you so much," Don lamented. "I can't lose you and the kids."

Betty nodded her head, taking in a sharp breath. "Sally and Bobby will be so happy that you're coming home."

"And you?" Don asked.

Betty kissed Don on the cheek, "I need you," she said softly. "I am so tired of being alone."

"Never again," Don kissed her on the mouth, taking her hand in his.

Betty examined herself in the floor length mirror of the hotel room, wearing the same clothes she had worn the previous night, touching the fullness of her belly. How big is she Betty wondered to herself. Does she know what she is getting into?

"You look amazing," Don complimented, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Betty spun around and rested her hands on Don's chest. "You say that now," she murmured, wondering how he would react to her current condition.

Don lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "There is nothing in the world that could make you look any less perfect."

Betty pushed Don away and looked at the mirror once more. "You shouldn't say things that you don't mean," she chided.

Don touched her shoulder, calling her toward him.

Betty continued. "What would you do if I didn't keep my figure?"

Don gave Betty a classic smile. "You'd still be the most beautiful woman in the world to me."

"Really?" she asked, still uncertain of his answer. Betty had always prided herself on her beautiful model-like looks, which she believed to be her very best quality.

Don placed both hands on Betty's shoulders, holding her in a protective stance. "I know that I've given you reason to doubt my intentions, but I promise you that things will be different." He bent down and placed a long kiss on her mouth. "You have to believe me."

Betty brushed Don's hair off of his forehead. "I know that things will be different," she said quietly. "They'll never be the same again."

"Betty?" Don asked, wondering if she was talking about something else.

"The five of us are going to be very happy together," she said softly, leaning her body into his.

"Five?" Don asked, his eyes widening.

Betty looked up into Don's eyes and gave him a shy smile.

"You're pregnant?" Don stammered.

Betty could barely speak, her eyes beginning to water, she couldn't bear to look at his face, not knowing what his reaction would be. After waiting a beat, Betty finally dared to lift her head, surprised to find a small smile forming on her husband's mouth.

Don let out a tiny laugh and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. "I love you," he whispered into her ear, rocking her body back and forth.

Betty rested her head on Don's chest. "Let's go home," she murmured.