A/N: Well! Thank you all so much for your feedback on the first chapter. Y'all instantly put me at ease, and I'm just really excited to dive into this now. (severelybabykryptonite, you made me smile so hard that I almost cried, haha.) I think the next few chapters are gonna be fairly long, so I hope you're settled in for some readin'. I can't wait to hear what you think! –Ash

2 – Guess Who's Coming To Dinner

It was a beautiful Saturday evening as Rick and Michonne exhaustedly retired to their back porch for some alone time. They had been at Alexandria for almost two days, their home filled to the brim with family until they felt comfortable enough to separate into their own houses; so it was nice to get an opportunity to be alone for a few minutes. The two of them took to the wicker loveseat at the end of their deck, which offered a lovely view of the pond in the middle of the neighborhood.

"Now there's somethin' you don't see every day," Rick remarked, referring to the elaborate landscape of their backyard. Nothing like the view of walkers they had at the prison.

Michonne smiled, clutching Rick's arm as she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Let's hope it becomes something we see everyday."

"It was so weird to wake up this morning and not have to actively worry about keeping someone alive."

"Not having to get up and stick a blade through some corpse's skull."

"Waking up to the smell of coffee instead of death…"

The two of them chuckled quietly to themselves, at the ridiculous wonder of their new lives. They had mainly been paying attention to one another, so they didn't notice that two of their fellow community members were walking by. Rick immediately recognized Jessie from the day before, but she had a tall blond man with her that he had yet to meet.

"Howdy, neighbors," the guy called out to them cheerfully. Without invitation, he walked up the steps to their deck to meet them, Jessie hesitantly following behind. "I'm Pete. Pete Anderson." He offered his hand to Rick but kept his eyes on Michonne. "Lovely to meet you."

"Rick Grimes," he returned the handshake cautiously. He immediately detected something off about this guy, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what. "This is my wife, Michonne," he went on to introduce her.

"My goodness," he grinned, nearly mesmerized by just the sight of her as he took her hand as well. "You are one lucky fellow, Rick Grimes."

Michonne and Rick glanced at one another uneasily, until Pete finally released her hand and stopped staring long enough to introduce his own spouse. "This is my wife, Jessie," he nodded, moving out of the way so that she could greet them.

"We met yesterday," Rick nodded. "She's the one that brought over the welcome basket," he informed Michonne.

"Ah," she nodded back, sitting up to shake Jessie's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You as well," she smiled nervously. "I'm so sorry to keep bothering you."

"It's no bother at all," Michonne assured her. "We should be getting to know everyone, after all."

"Deanna said to give you guys your space, though. Let you get settled before we start inundating you with the introductions."

"It's fine," Rick smiled politely at them both. "We're fine."

"Deanna's an idiot," Pete chuckled derisively. "In fact, you two oughta come over for dinner tomorrow night. I won't take no for an answer."

"Pete…" Jessie tried to stop him.

"Oh, what. Is that against the rules?"

"I'm sure they'd much rather spend the rest of their weekend with their family."

"Nonsense," he waved her off dismissively. "They're obviously sitting out there to get away from them. You two got any kids?" he directed back to Rick and Michonne.

"A fifteen-year-old and a one-year-old," Rick answered cautiously.

"Carl and Judith," Jessie knew. "Right?"

"Right..."

"Our son, Ron, he's about Carl's age," she revealed. "Keeps asking when he can come over and introduce himself."

"He's welcome anytime," Michonne grinned back.

"Bring him over for dinner," Pete offered. "The baby too. Jess loves babies."

"I do," she smiled. "We'd love to have you if you'd like to come."

Michonne could tell by Rick's body language that he wasn't extremely interested in a dinner date, but she also knew his sense of propriety wasn't so great after so much time on the road. He was never great at playing well with others, but that was especially true after Joe, Terminus, and Grady. They would have to relearn how to be nice. "We'd be glad to join you guys for dinner," she decided for them both.

Pete continued to stare her down as he smiled, pleased. "Excellent. We'll have some drinks, get to know each other…"

Jessie chuckled at her husband's apparent enthusiasm. She hadn't seen him this excited about anything in years. "How's seven?" she suggested.

"We'll be there," Michonne promised, resting her hand in Rick's lap.

"We'll see you then."

"Thank you," Rick added, though more thankful than anything that they were turning to leave.

"You two have a good night," Pete finished, turning back to glance at Michonne one last time.

The two of them feigned polite smiles as they watched their neighbors disappear to their own home, two spots to their right. Rick scoffed at the entire situation as he affectionately ran his thumb over Michonne's hand. "Someone sure does like you."

"Oh, please," she chuckled, leaning back against him once more.

"So you didn't notice that guy barely took his eyes off of you?"

"I did. But I've also noticed Jessie and every other woman here making googly eyes at you. So long as nobody crosses any lines…"

"I can't believe you agreed to dinner with them," he yawned. "Tomorrow's gonna be our first night with just the four of us in the house."

"Might as well get it over with," she shrugged. "And I really want Carl to make friends with kids his own age."

Rick nodded, as that was the only reason he wasn't completely opposed to the idea himself. "He told me today, he didn't want us to get so adjusted to this place that we get weak. I wanted to tell him that we won't, but… honestly, it's somethin' I worry about myself."

"We won't," she promised, softly rubbing his thigh. "I mean, how many people did we kill at Grady?"

"I lost count," he sighed, hating to think of the massacre they'd incited there. "Dozens."

"Exactly. Weakness isn't in us anymore, babe. Deanna made us the constables of this place for a reason."

"I'm not so sure she knows what that reason is," he returned, half-joking.

"It just means that… if these people are weak? If they can't make it? Then it's our job to teach them how."

Rick nodded at her perpetual wisdom, understanding that she was right. In just a few weeks on the road, they had already shown Noah a lot about what it took to be a true survivor. They could do the same with the other Alexandrians, if they had to. "Maybe so…"

"But," she appended, glad that he agreed, "we do have to do something about this 'no weapons inside the walls' bullshit."

"'I will not have this turn into a police state,'" Rick retorted haughtily, mocking both Deanna's words and her tone. "Ridiculous."

She giggled in amusement at his imitation of their new leader. "She's clueless."

"If push comes to shove, we oughta just steal our weapons back."

"Okay, Rambo. Let's give it a week before we start planning our stealth attack on this place."

"Fair enough," he chuckled. "It should take that long for everything to go to shit."

"You're so optimistic."

"I'm realistic," he countered, planting a kiss on her temple. "I just don't want any surprises by the time Sasha's ready to deliver."

"That's nearly six months away, Rick."

"But it'll be here before we know it. And with any luck, we won't be too far behind."

"Oh," she smirked, pretending to be surprised by his aspiration. "Well in the interest of full disclosure, I haven't had a pill since we left the prison, so it's quite possible we're already not so far behind."

He chuckled heartily at her confession. "Well thanks for telling me."

"I figured you should know," she shrugged, smiling. "Although… if we're really serious about it, we should probably go upstairs and get to work."

He glanced down at her, surprised. "Really? With fourteen other people in our house?"

"Captive audience," she snorted, giggling.

"You're awful," he grinned, his arm encircling her waist. "But I can be quiet if you can…"

After months of nearly silent sex in the cellblocks back at the prison, she figured she could keep it down for one more night. "Well then let's go, Grimes."

"Thank you so much for watching her," Michonne said, strolling into her living room, where Beth and Judith were sitting on the couch, playing with an iPad. "They said to bring her, but I just thought, why do that to her just because we have to go?" she chuckled.

"You know it's no problem," Beth grinned, looking up at her. "You look awesome, by the way."

"Oh, well thank you," she smiled proudly. She wore a simple royal blue sundress she found in her closet, along with a pair of gold sandals that didn't really fit, but she'd somehow made work. She complemented the look with golden eyeshadow and red lipstick to set off her immaculate smile. "It's nice to look nice for a change."

"I suppose it is. Maggie and Glenn went over to Deanna's for dinner tonight, they got all gussied up, too."

"It's been so long since we've had closets, I almost didn't know what to do with myself."

"You mind if I search through yours while you're gone?" Beth asked hopefully. "We're goin' to Aaron and Eric's tomorrow, I'd like to put on somethin' cute too."

"Knock yourself out," Michonne waved encouragingly. She bent down to give Judith a quick kiss to the top of her head. "I'll see you later, Cutie."

"Have fun," she used Judith's little hand to wave back at her mother.

"We're two doors to the left if you need anything at all," Michonne finished. "Thank you again."

"No problem."

With that, Michonne headed out the door, where Carl and Rick were patiently waiting for the woman of the house to appear. They wore nearly identical outfits of white button-downs and jeans, Carl looking like Rick's mini-me. They both stood at the sight of Michonne, looking like a perfect summer evening.

"Well don't you two look nice," she beamed at both her boys. Carl's hair was still unruly, but he refused to cut it, and she wasn't going to fight him on it. "You look like Alexandrians already."

"You're one to talk," Carl joked, moving towards the steps. "You look like you spent the day shopping at Macy's."

"You do look amazing," Rick agreed, standing to plant a kiss to her cheek. She smelled like jasmine, and he didn't want to pull away. He didn't want to go anywhere at all, really. "We keep trying tonight," he reminded her in the softest of whispers, referring to their baby-making quest.

She tried to suppress a smile as she nodded, and the three of them continued down their porch, onto the sidewalk towards the Anderson's. Just ahead of them, they spotted Sasha and Daryl walking arm in arm, likely headed to dinner too, considering the black dress Sasha was sporting.

"Where are you two off to?" Rick called after them, amused to see them be openly affectionate toward each other. It was such a rarity.

The two of them turned back to the three of them, surprised to see the Grimes family all dressed up with somewhere to go. "Hopefully not the same place y'all are," Daryl joked.

"Aaron and Eric invited us to dinner," Sasha smiled. "Said they had spaghetti, which you can imagine I was all in for."

Rick and Michonne looked at each other, wondering if this was some weird setup. Spaghetti Sunday, perhaps, with some morbid twist. Maybe they were all going to end up with their throats slit. "Well, let's hope spaghetti isn't a euphemism for something," Michonne chuckled wryly. "Because we're headed to Pete and Jessie's for the same thing."

"Shit. We're all gonna die tonight," Sasha shook her head. "Shoulda known this was too good to be true."

"It was nice knowing you, though," Michonne shrugged. "Maybe we'll meet in the afterlife."

"Oh, we'll definitely see y'all in hell," Daryl submitted with a smirk. "You get there first, save us a seat."

"Very funny," Rick shook his head, next to Carl, who was just laughing at the ordeal. "I know we're all joking, but you do need to keep an eye out for anything weird. Anything off."

"We will," Sasha nodded. "Or at least I will, since I can't drink."

Michonne laughed in response to their entire conversation. "You guys try to have fun."

"Y'all too," Daryl finished, the two of them continuing up the street.

Soon thereafter, Sasha and Daryl were sitting at Aaron and Eric's dining room table - the two recruiters for Alexandria - enjoying their own spaghetti dinner and a surprisingly easy conversation. They were two nice, funny guys, that seemed mostly interested in where Sasha and Daryl had come from, and their lives back in Georgia. In turn, they learned a lot about how Alexandria came about, and what it took to sustain such a nice community at the end of the world.

"I just wanna thank you guys for agreeing to have dinner with us," Aaron declared at the first opportunity he got. "We know you must have been wondering why we invited you."

"Well Maggie said that you invited her over for tomorrow, so we kinda figured it was part of the welcome wagon," Sasha shrugged.

"I suppose it is," he nodded back, taking a sip of his wine. "Since Noah brought you in, we didn't get the opportunity to scope you out like most of our new members, so we would like to spend some time with everyone..."

Daryl swallowed a forkful of spaghetti before looking back and forth between the hosts. He could feel something else wasn't being said. "But what?"

"But," Eric cut in, "we specifically wanted to meet with you first."

Sasha looked over to Daryl with a nervous smile, then back at Aaron and Eric. "Why is that?"

"Well I've watched all of your group's interviews," Aaron said. "And after seeing yours, specifically, Daryl, I asked Deanna to hold off on giving you a job."

Daryl frowned back at him, obviously wondering why he would've done that. He'd been sitting around all weekend, waiting to find out how he could be useful to Alexandria, figuring maybe he couldn't be. He dropped his fork and sat up a little straighter. "Why's that?"

"I... wanted to see if you were willing to be a recruiter. With me."

Sasha frowned as well. "I thought that was your job," she pointed to Eric.

"It is," he nodded. "But I only go because I don't want him to be alone," he admitted. "I'm not good at it. Nearly killed myself on the last mission trying to get away from a walker," he chuckled.

The three of them laughed in response as Aaron went on. "In your interview, you said you were sick of running from bad people. You talked about all the different groups you've met that have tried to kill you. And how you felt like you could trust Noah immediately, which is why you came here. I just got the feeling that you know the difference between a good person and a bad person. And I desperately need that out there."

Daryl and Sasha looked at each other knowingly once again, both of them understanding that Daryl was probably the best person for the job - he could read people like no other. But the point of them coming to Washington was so that they could have stability for their baby. So that they wouldn't have to be on the road. Daryl becoming a recruiter defeated that entire purpose. "How often do you go out?" Sasha wondered. "And for how long?"

"It varies," he nodded back. "Every month, sometimes for a week, sometimes for three. It depends on what I find, the weather, the gas..."

"And how long do you stay at home?" Daryl interjected.

"We've always tried to make sure that we stay as long as we're gone," Eric explained. "So if we're away for two weeks, we come home for two weeks."

"That's a long time to be away from home," Daryl nodded. He remembered when Michonne was out looking for The Governor, the times she was gone felt like an eternity sometimes. He took a sip from his wine, feeling uneasy about the fact that he didn't know the answer to this. So he looked to Sasha.

"Don't look at me," she chuckled, also feeling unsettled. "This is your call."

"It's not an easy decision, I know," Aaron said, smiling at them comfortingly. "Especially given your... situation. That's why we wanted to ask you together."

She stared back at him curiously, unsure of what he was implying. "Our situation?"

"Your... you know," Eric gestured towards her stomach. "Baby."

Daryl immediately felt vaguely threatened by the conversation, and stood from the table to show it. They hadn't told anyone about Sasha's pregnancy other than Rick, and by extension, Michonne, and he was certain neither of them had revealed that to a bunch of strangers. "Y'all spyin' on us?"

"Daryl, sit down," Sasha instructed, taking his arm.

"Nah, I need an answer first."

"We're not," Aaron returned calmly. "I swear. It's just something we noticed when you arrived. How she didn't carry anything, she was the only one with water and food even though you all must have been starving and dehydrated. Rick insisted that she be put on duty in the guard tower, which is conveniently out of harm's way. And tonight, you refused the wine," he said directly to Sasha. "It's my job to notice these kinds of things."

"And we understand why you would be hesitant to go off on the road every month with your girlfriend being pregnant," Eric assured them. "So don't feel obligated to say yes."

"Daryl doesn't even know what 'obligated' means," she joked, still willing him to take his seat. "He's only gonna do it if he thinks it's the right thing to do."

"Good."

Daryl hesitantly reclaimed his chair, pulling back up to the table to resume his meal. "We gotta talk about this," he said to Sasha.

"We do," she concurred. "We'll see what Rick thinks about it as well."

He nodded back in agreement and then looked at Aaron. "How long 'til you need an answer?"

"End of the week?"

"All right. I think we can do that," he conceded, looking to his girlfriend for confirmation. "Right?"

She smiled at him warmly, though she was already clear what his answer would be. Even back at the prison, he was on the council of course, but he was essentially their scout for new people. This was his thing. "Yeah, I think so."

"So Rick, I'm curious," Pete proclaimed as he set down his fourth beer of the night, his eyes still shifting to Michonne, "how'd you two meet?"

"Oh, well," Rick cleared his throat, "it's funny, we didn't exactly get along so well when we first met," he recalled with a soft chuckle.

"Because he was an asshole," Michonne cut in jokingly.

"I was," he had to agree, his eyebrows raised in concession. "But she was, too."

"He had just lost his wife..."

"And I had this baby that I had no idea what to do with. I was losing my mind, honestly," he shook his head, fixated on his wife. "And she showed up at my doorstep, like some sort of guardian angel. This complete stranger, covered in blood, toting baby formula, and... I dunno. I remember being unable to take my eyes off of her."

Jessie was unable to contain her smile at their meet cute. "How on earth did you know he had a baby?"

"Oh god," Michonne chuckled, remembering the whole sordid deal with Maggie and Glenn and Merle. "Well," she sighed, "it's a long, awful story, but to make it short, Maggie and Glenn were abducted while out on a run for the aforementioned baby formula. I couldn't help them. I had just gotten shot and I would've just gotten myself caught, too."

"Jesus," Pete inserted, in total disbelief of all the shit these people had obviously been through.

"It was a mess," Michonne confirmed. "But I got wind of the fact that they were living at this prison, so once they were gone, I grabbed the formula, figuring they must've needed it for something, and went and found them."

"Wow," Jessie was shaking head in awe. "So you basically saved Judith's life."

"And Glenn's, and Maggie's," Rick submitted. "And mine..." He was gazing over at her with a happy smile on his lips. "It took a long time to get where we are now, but... I wouldn't trade a single second of it."

"Well I might trade in a few seconds," Michonne teased. "But no, he's right. Everything we've been through is what brought us here."

"But how did you go from treating each other like shit to this?" Pete questioned, taking another swig of his beer. "I always wonder that about people. How they manage to go back and make it right. Seems impossible."

"I don't know if it is about going back," Michonne frowned thoughtfully. "You move forward. And not in a 'This never happened' sort of way, but you say, 'Let's get past this.'"

Rick nodded, sitting back in his chair with his own beer. "And I think it strengthens your bond when you have to go through something together. I mean, if we hadn't lost the prison, I'm not sure what we would be right now. Probably still trying to pretend we weren't completely in love with each other."

"That was you," Michonne submitted with a smile. "I was fine with my feelings."

"See what I mean," he laughed.

Jessie grinned at them wistfully, wishing she knew what that felt like. "That's what you hope you get when you marry someone," she said without thinking. "Someone to go through all the hard shit with."

Michonne wasn't sure how to respond to that, as it seemed she was implying that she hadn't found that with Pete. "Well... you guys have been together for fifteen years," she diplomatically offered. "You've obviously made it through a lot together."

"Not even half of what you two have," Pete scoffed. "This one gets a paper cut and you'd think the sky was falling."

"All right," Jessie nodded at him mocking her.

"Where'd you get shot, Michonne?"

"My left thigh," she answered, instinctively patting the wound. "Rick took a bullet there too, actually."

"My god..."

"That one was nothin'," he chuckled. "When all this started, I took a few to my ribcage. Then I got stabbed in the shoulder around the time Michonne and I met. You remember that?" he looked to her.

"I remember that," she nodded slowly. "He walked around for a month trying not to move his arm."

"Meanwhile, Pete Anderson, the surgeon, turns into a giant baby if he gets a cold," Jessie shook her head playfully. "Count yourself lucky, Michonne."

"Oh, don't let the stoicism fool you. Rick is still a giant baby when he gets a cold," she laughed.

"I have no idea what she's talkin' about," he joked, beaming back at her.

As the four of them continued their laughter through a rather enjoyable evening on the Anderson's patio, their back door slid open, and their oldest boy, Ron, came sauntering outside, Carl not far behind, and their youngest son, Sam, bringing up the rear.

"Mom, can we have dessert yet?" Ron pleaded, making his way to his parents' side of the table. "We finished eating like an hour ago."

"Shit, I forgot all about you guys," she giggled, hopping up from her seat. "Sam and I made a chocolate cake," she told the rest of the table as she picked up Rick and Michonne's empty plates. "You guys want?"

"I know Michonne does," Rick chuckled, standing as well. "I can just have some of hers."

"No you cannot," she shot back playfully. "But I would love some, thank you."

"Coming right up," Jessie smiled, rounding up the troops. "Come on, boys."

Rick lightly squeezed Michonne's shoulder as he passed her, following Jessie and their kids inside on his way to the restroom. Pete and Michonne were left alone outside for the first time that evening, and she smiled at him politely as she took a sip of her dwindling glass of wine.

"You are so beautiful," he commented, obviously unafraid to show his fascination with her. He'd been staring at her all night, even while trying to engage with her husband and his wife. "Just stunning."

She looked down shyly, unsure of how to respond. It had been so long since she had gotten dressed for an occasion and put on makeup, it felt odd to take a compliment. Even from someone she didn't necessarily want one from. "Thank you," she eventually replied.

Pete stood from his seat to take the one Rick had occupied, just next to her. He shook his head in disbelief as he sat down. "I can't believe Rick didn't want you from the minute he saw you."

"There was a lot going on the minute he saw me," she chuckled uneasily.

"Nothing more interesting than this, I'd bet." He leaned over the arm of his chair, smiling at her drunkenly. "God, you even smell good. Jessie never smells good anymore."

"She's running around after two boys," she defended her new friend. She moved her chair a bit to her left to get away from his leering. She didn't want to make a scene, but she most certainly would if she had to. "Maybe you should go back to your seat."

"I will," he nodded, harshly setting his empty beer bottle on the table. "I just wanted to get a good look at you."

She didn't respond.

"You should come in for a checkup soon." He finally did stand to go back to his side of the table, grabbing another Corona on the way. "I can take a look at that gunshot wound, make sure it's healed properly."

"It was taken care of by a doctor," she smiled tensely, thinking of Hershel. "But thank you."

"Well come on in anyway. When's the last time you had a physical? A mammogram?"

She shuddered at just the thought of him seeing her naked. "I'm fine."

"You sure are," he laughed. As if no one had ever made that joke before. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be saying these things.

"No, you shouldn't," she agreed.

"Hey, maybe your husband is in there saying the same things to my wife."

"I guarantee you he's not," she quipped. As if to prove her statement, Rick then appeared in the back door, coming to rejoin the conversation. But Michonne quickly stood, no longer concerned with impropriety. She was ready to go. "We're leaving," she told Rick. "Go get Carl."

"You can't go yet," Pete frowned. "What about your cake?"

Rick gazed at Michonne, and then at his neighbor, understanding that something had transpired in the few minutes he was gone to make her want to leave. So he didn't question it, but simply followed her inside. Carl was at the kitchen table with Ron and Sam, waiting his turn to play the Nintendo DSi. "Carl, let's go," Michonne said, strutting through the kitchen.

"But I'm not finished with my cake," he protested with a mouth full of chocolate.

Jessie turned in surprise as well. "You guys are leaving?"

"Yes," Rick said, still not even sure of why. "But thank you for a lovely evening."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes," he nodded, also not sure if that were true. "Carl, get up. Now."

He nodded in compliance and stood from the table, wiping his hands on his jeans. "I guess I'll see you at school tomorrow," he told Ron.

"It's not as bad as it sounds," he promised him. "See you bright and early at noon."

The three of them headed for the front door just as Pete came in from the back, Michonne rolling her eyes as she realized he was in the room.

As soon as she heard the door close, Jessie turned back to her husband in disgust, knowing he had just ruined a perfectly good evening. "What'd you do this time, Pete?"

"I didn't do anything."

She rolled her eyes herself, and dropped her knife and dishtowel to the counter. She no longer wanted to be in the same room with him anymore either. "Come on, boys. Time to get ready for bed."

Back outside, the Grimes family made the short walk back towards their own home, both Rick and Carl confused about why they had to leave in such a rush. "You wanna tell me what that was about?" Rick decided to ask, knowing he probably wouldn't like the answer.

"I was just ready to go," she retorted with a shrug. As much as she wanted to tell Rick that Pete was a raggedy drunken asshole, she knew his temper too well to unleash that information. It wouldn't look good for them if one of the new constables ripped someone's head off the first week they were there. "That's okay, right?"

Rick and Carl exchanged knowing glances, having caught on to the fact that she was lying. "So everything was going fine, and then you're alone with Pete for three minutes and you're ready to go?"

"Yep."

Rick paused in the middle of the street, just before they could reach their driveway, causing Carl and Michonne to stop as well, turning back to him. "Carl, go inside."

"But Dad-."

"What is with the protesting everything all of a sudden?" he frowned. "Go."

"Fine," he sighed, heading up the walkway as slowly as he could so that he could hear at least a bit of their impending conversation.

Rick approached Michonne, his head tilted to try and get a read of her face. "He touch you?"

"No," she promised, resting her hands on his chest. "He didn't do anything. I just… don't like him, I guess."

Rick knew it was more than just a bad vibe that got them out of there so abruptly. "Well did he say somethin'?"

"Not really," she sighed. "I don't know."

"Michonne…"

"I got it, okay?" She held the tips of his collar and pulled him in for a quick peck on the lips. "Whatever it is, I can handle it."

"But what is it, babe?"

"I don't know," she repeated, honestly this time. "Which is why I don't wanna tell you. But I promise, if I start to feel like I can't handle it, I'll let you know. Okay?"

He sighed heavily, but he understood. And he would trust her to tell him when and if the time was right. "Okay."