Disclaimer: Only the fic is mine.

AN: Had a horrible day at work thanks to my douchebag boss, needed to release my angst.

***
The only light in the room was the fire going in the fireplace and it provided warmth for the man and woman who were lying side by side on a blanket in the middle of the room.

The heat also helped dry the sweat from their naked bodies.

The smiled on their faces, still flushed from their recent lovemaking were wide.

He stroked her cheek, "Rachel," He whispered her name like a prayer.

She stroked his cheek as well, "Tom," She replied sternly, "You need to wake up."

"What?" Confusion came to him, rushing like a wave through his entire being and showing on his face.

Rachel slowly stood up, her face cold, "This isn't real, it will never happen."

Before he could reply, Rachel shimmered and vanished.

"Rachel!" Tom's cry rang out into the night.

***
Tom bolted awake and blindly felt the mattress on the other side of the bed, no one was there.

And then it came rushing in at him, the truth.

Rachel was dead; she had been shot and murdered two months ago.

They had never been lovers.

His wife had only recently died, it wouldn't have been right, although the attraction between him and Rachel had been there; ready to overwhelm them like a tidal wave.

But they would never get to be together.

Why had he become such a toxic person when Sean Ramsey entered their lives?

Why hadn't he, Tom Chandler, walked her back to her hotel room?

She had done so much for him over and over again and he had failed when she was in need.

Tom began to weep, slowly, and then the sobs grew louder.

He was grateful Ashley and Sam we're staying at Kelly and Ava's, he didn't want anyone to see him like this.

His sleep that night, as many nights was deeply troubled.

***
The next day he was walking toward his office at the St Louis courthouse when he saw a woman by a stairwell.

"Rachel?" She was alive.

As he rushed toward her, once again she shimmered and vanished.

When would all this stop?

He wanted Rachel to somehow be alive so bad his mind was playing cruel tricks on him.

How many times he wished Rachel would come to him, saying she had been in hiding for her protection.

He needed to stop this insanity.

Rachel was dead, never coming back, and he would never know what could've been.