"So," Willow said, at a complete loss for words. "Um, your van looks pretty good. Did you get it refinished or something?" "Uh, no. It broke down outside of Mexico. Had to trade my guitar to get it fixed." "Um, oh, okay. Sorry." "Why?" Oz said in that dreamy, monotonous voice. "You didn't break my van." Then he looked down and said, almost in a whisper, "Only my heart." "Oh, God, Oz I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to.I.You just.left and I didn't know what to do and then I met Tara and." Willow couldn't finish her sentence, she started sobbing uncontrollably. Oz looked over at her, uncomfortable, not sure what to do. "Will," he said quietly. "Don't cry. It was my fault. I should never have." Oz trailed off, unable to bring himself to speak of Veruca. Not able to talk about his affair with her, or how he..he couldn't bear to think of it.had killed her. He had taken a life, and he hated himself for it. That was the real reason he had left Willow, the love of his life. The two virtues he held most closely, love and life, and he had taken them both and smashed them to pieces. He couldn't face her after that, he couldn't bear the thought that he had caused Willow pain. And thinking of Willow, there was something..different about her. She wore baggy shirts, always with a huge sweatshirt. Maybe she was just gaining some weight and.. "Oz?" "Oh, uh, sorry, what?" "There's something I have to tell you." Willow looked down at the ground, as if she were ashamed. "I..I." Then her face distorted, as if she were in an incredible amount of pain. "Willow?" Oz said frantically. "What's wrong? Are you all right?" "Oz, I.I.I think I'm going into labor!"

To Be Continued....