CARRIE

She found herself outside by his car, tapping lightly on the window whilst biting her lips. Big wound the window down and smiled at her; that smile that she couldn't help but fall into.

"Oh baby," he commented, looking her up and down. "Are you going to scoot on into this car with me or what?" Carrie couldn't help but smirk. . .but then reality kicked in.

"Big," he shook his head instantly.

"You're not cancelling on me, I haven't seen you for a week Carrie." He was making it so much harder for her, but what could she do?

"Big, please, I know you've been away but-" He cut her off.

"Carrie, you're not cancelling. We've got a date, and we're going on it." He pulled a cigar out from his top pocket and lit it. Carrie stared down at her heels and fidgeted on the pavement with unease. "Are you getting in the car?" She looked up into his eyes – those eyes she'd fallen in love with – and took a deep breath.

"I need an hour, Big, and then I'll come meet you." Big sighed aloud and let out a stream of cigar smoke.

"Baby, you're killing me." Carrie leant in through the window and pressed her lips to Big's cheek.

"I love you Big," she whispered and pulled away. There was a moment of silence while Big weighed up the situation.

"I love you too baby," he said finally, flashing a slightly saddened smile and starting to wind up the window. "We'll skip cocktails and go straight for dinner. . .one hour Carrie. I've missed you." With that the driver slipped the clutch and Big's car pulled away down the road.

Carrie stood on the sidewalk and took several deep breaths. There was nothing more she'd rather have done than scooted into the backseat beside the man she loved and driven off for a night of romance. . .but she'd promised Aiden she'd listen to him – as a friend. Carrie prided herself on being a good friend, the least she could was spare him an hour.

Samantha

At the same time, in a luxury penthouse across town, Samantha entered an A List part on Smith's arm, clad in a skin-tight gold mini dress and matching 3-inch heels. Unlike any other party she'd attended, tonight Samantha had an uneasy feeling in her stomach; there was something different about this party, something different about this night all together.

"Samantha, darling," a skinny, fifty-something photographer greeted her gaily with air kisses, holding her cigarette casually with one hand. "And this," she shrieked, turning to Smith. "Must be your adorable toy boy movie star" Samantha loathed the term toy-boy, especially with Smith; he meant more to her than just a young stud to share her bed.

"This is Smith. Smith, this is Constance Daniels – she'll be taking the shots for your movie next month". Smith smiled at her pleasantly, before heading off towards a more familiar face.

"Darling where do you find them? These boys that crave maturity?"

"I don't. . .they find me." Constance laughed a 'you-crack-me-up' laugh and stole a glance over her shoulder at Smith.

"Be honest Samantha, when are you going to set him free so the rest of us lionesses can have a play?" Samantha grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter and gulped it down quickly.

"Excuse me Constance." She strolled away towards the bathroom. Ignoring several greetings on her way.

Locked in the bathroom – newly refurbished – Samantha flung her purse into the bath rub and grabbed onto the sink side. Who did Constance think she was? Toy-boy indeed – Samantha cared about Smith. . .cared about him so much that she'd already made the decision to let him go; 'set him free', as Constance had put it. It wasn't fair, she'd decided, to keep Smith away from the life he obviously graved for. He was getting ready to settle down; marriage, babies, family life. It wasn't Samantha's cup of tea. That was what the feeling in her stomach was for, that was why tonight was different; tonight was her last night with Smith as his girlfriend – tomorrow she'd end it.

But hey, she'd thought – why not go out with a Bang? Snatching up her purse and primping her hair she unlocked the door and headed in Smith's direction.

Miranda

"Are you just getting in? Honey it's late," Steve told her as Miranda entered the bedroom and began undoing the strap on her shoes.

"I know it's late Steve – I know I've missed dinner time and bath time and bed time, and I really don't need you to remind me of it." Steve shut his book and placed it on the bedside table.

"What rattled your cage?" Miranda had an instant comeback – a remark to silence her husband and give her the perfect opportunity to release her rage. . .but she bit her tongue. Steve wasn't to blame; she was.

Uncharacteristically Miranda broke down into tears. She slumped onto the edge of the bed and instantly Steve was behind her, his arms enveloping her.

"Hey, hey. . .what's wrong? Honey talk to me." He kissed her neck and hugged her tighter. "Miranda it's alright."

"But it's not alright Steve. I'm getting home from work at –" She glanced up at the alarm clock. "-eleven . I haven't fed my son, or given him his bath. I didn't read him his favourite story and consequently I haven't spoken to him at all today because he was in bed when I left this morning and he's in bed when I get home now. It isn't alright Steve."

Steve, as much as he wanted to comfort her, didn't know what to say. He nuzzled into her neck and hoped that it would be enough. Miranda turned to him and kissed him.

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

"For being with me. For being Brady's dad and my husband and just. . .putting up with me. Thing's are going to change." Steve shook his head and laughed.

"Miranda, thing's don't need to change; this is who we are."

"But it doesn't have to be, this doesn't have to be the way our life is." Steve was confused.

"How do you mean?" Miranda took his hands in hers.

"I can quit my job."

Charlotte

Compromise wasn't Charlotte's best quality, but tonight that was all Harry was interested in obtaining from her. Lying in bed, their pristine white sheets lying perfectly over them, Harry pushed San Francisco as much as he could.

"I don't want to go Harry."

"Hear me out."

"I have, and I still don't want to go." Charlotte tried to concentrate on her book but Harry wouldn't lay up; so she closed it and took off her reading glasses. "What's so bad about New York?"

"Nothing. It's New York; greatest city in the world."

"Then why do we have to leave it?" Harry shook his head.

"Because it's not the only city in the world. Sweetheart, there's more to life than this."

"Well I don't think there is Harry." She could sense the subject brimming and there was nothing she could do to plug it.

"We want a baby Charlotte, our own baby and I know Lily is our own, I love her more than anything, but you want to carry a baby and I want another child and in San Francisco we can do that."

"We can do that in New York. . .we can try at least." Harry shook his head.

"If I take this job we can afford to do it Charlotte. We can barely afford to do it as I am now. . .San Francisco just makes everything definite." Charlotte willed the tears back. "What do you say?"

"I say emotional blackmail is a cruel thing Harry. . .but I'll think about it". She rolled over and turned out the light. Her desire to have a baby. . .be pregnant. . .was slowly overpowering her love of the city.

Epilogue for Chapter;

Carrie paced around the apartment bare footed, wondering what she was going to do or say. She hadn't seen him in so long. He had a child now. Had that changed him? He sounded exactly the same on the phone. Then came the knock; his knock, that forgotten knock. She sprang to the door and slowly opened it.

"Aiden. . ." he looked back at her and smiled.

"Carrie."