A/N: Thanks to all you beautiful souls who read, reviewed, followed and/or favorited. Now that the show is coming to its end (thank God, it's been a long time coming), I'm not sure if writing Spoby is even relevant anymore? Assuming that writing fic is relevant at all. LOL. Anyway! I don't mean to bother you guys with my musings. I hope you enjoy the second and final installment. :)

PART TWO

May 2030

Sunday mornings were often the only laidback mornings they had all week. She and Toby definitely liked to sleep in for as long as their children would allow it, and over the years it had become a tradition for the kids to crawl in bed with them one by one. Cleo was their early riser and nearly always first. She took great pleasure in claiming the best spot – smack dab in between her parents, who enjoyed this alone time with her whether it was ten minutes or half an hour.

This morning, she was completely unaware of the tragic events that had transpired the night before and how her father's life had changed forever. She came in with hair sticking out at all angles and a bright smile. She wormed her way to the middle of her parents' embrace, which caused them to groan amusedly before welcoming her into their cuddle and kissing her good morning. She provided hilarious commentary ("Daddy, your beard is scratchy") and asked the deep questions ("Mommy, how come you think Daddy's shirts are pajamas?"). She brought a sense of normalcy back to their distraught existences, and Spencer was more grateful than her seven-year-old child could ever know.

It was always a toss up who would show up next, but this morning it was Lawrence. He settled himself between his mother and sister, and Spencer's fingers sifted through his hair lazily as he leaned against her. Toby congratulated him on his two goals from yesterday, and Lawrence beamed as they high-fived each other over Cleo's head. There was a moment of slight disorder when Cleo complained he kept scratching her legs with his toenails, but Spencer quickly trapped his feet between her own and that seemed to satisfy Cleo for now.

Eloise entered not long after her brother. She didn't try to force herself into the pile of entwined limbs – she was happy to settle in on Toby's other side, and when he kissed her she held up her beloved Donkey for him to kiss, too.

Spencer studied her husband very closely as he listened to his children tell him what they'd done at the pool yesterday. His eyes were clear and attentive and… peaceful? It hardly seemed possible after the tumultuous night they'd had, but for now he seemed at ease with himself. He smiled when Cleo told him she'd beat all the boys in their swimming race. He kissed her head affectionately, then kissed Eloise's, then reached over and kissed Lawrence and then leaned in even further to plant a firm kiss on Spencer's mouth.

She got the message. He loved them. He loved them and he was happy and thankful to be here with them.

"Who wants pancakes?" Spencer finally asked, which was met with enthusiasm from the kids. She smiled and told them to head downstairs and get the ingredients ready, and with lots of squirming and chattering they were suddenly gone and it was just the two of them again.

"How are you feeling?" Spencer asked softly, pushing her fingers through the soft hair above her husband's forehead.

"Okay," he answered just as quietly. "I mean… yeah, I guess okay."

He got up from the bed and headed for the bathroom, and was applying toothpaste to his toothbrush by the time she'd caught up to him. "What should we tell the kids?"

She thought she saw him wince. "Spence, I can't… I haven't really thought about it."

"We can't just not tell them," she insisted. "They do remember him, you know. They have the right to know he's not here anymore."

He nodded, averting her eyes. "Can we just… let them have this? Let them have their morning, and then we'll figure out a way to tell them?"

"Okay," she relented, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. It was his father; it was his decision. And maybe he was right. Maybe they should leave their kids in ignorant bliss for as long as they could.

The truth was that Spencer had been very vague to them about the whole thing. They'd had questions about Jenna's identity and their father's sudden disappearance yesterday but she'd only told them the bare minimum, and now she worried it might have been a mistake. They'd never had to deal with death before, and she found herself wishing she'd prepared them for it more.

She granted Toby and the kids their carefree morning. The kitchen was a mess by the time their bellies were full, but it didn't bother her the way it once might have. It had been one of the positives of being blessed with three kids at once. It put everything in perspective, and to her mother's horror a tidy kitchen was no longer one of Spencer's priorities. Most of the time.

Lawrence was already talking about going to the park later, and she and Toby shared a quick look of understanding. It needed to happen now. Neither of them liked the idea of bursting the happy little bubble they found themselves in, but at this point postponing the inevitable didn't make sense anymore.

"We need to talk to you guys," Toby said quietly.

They must have detected something in his tone because they sobered, and Cleo even asked worriedly, "Are we in trouble?"

"No," he quickly assured her with a sad smile, letting his fingers ghost across her cheek. He looked like he wanted to say more but didn't know how, so Spencer covered his hand with her own and took over.

"Remember I told you yesterday that Daddy went to visit your grandfather because he wasn't feeling well?"

They nodded solemnly and she felt Toby squeeze her hand, giving her permission to utter the words that he couldn't. "Well… it turns out he was a lot sicker than we thought. His heart wasn't working very well anymore, and it caused him to stop breathing."

They knew what that meant. They were eerily quiet until Lawrence needed confirmation. "He died?"

"Yes," Spencer answered as gently as she could. "I'm sorry."

At seven and a half, they understood that death was permanent but Spencer knew they probably weren't capable of feeling or reacting to it the way an adult would. But as they sat there looking confused and pitiful, she wondered if it was fair to expect them to have any reaction at all.

They hadn't known their grandfather. They'd seen him a few times in their short lives, yes. They knew he sent them money for their birthday every year. But they'd never hugged him. They'd never laughed with him. They'd never even had a decent conversation with him, and the last time they'd seen him they left in a hurry without a proper goodbye.

She was startled to see big tears sliding down Eloise's cheeks. Before Spencer could react, the child had crawled into Toby's lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. He seemed too dumbfounded to anything but reflexively rub her back, and Spencer reached out to run a hand over her blonde hair.

"It's okay, baby," she murmured painfully. "It's going to be okay."

"No," she disagreed, her voice muffled by Toby's shoulder. "He's Daddy's daddy."

Spencer's breath caught as she remembered her own words, and with striking clarity she saw the true cause of her daughter's tears. Eloise wasn't crying for her own grief – she was crying for Toby's. She knew that while Daniel hadn't meant much to her or to her siblings, he had still meant something to Toby.

Lawrence and Cleo slipped down from their chairs solemnly. It seemed their sister's words had resonated with them, too, because their arms joined hers in enfolding their father. Spencer saw him blink furiously – all in vain, and she placed her hand in between his shoulder blades comfortingly as a single tear fell down his cheek.

November 2028

Spencer drove out of Rosewood in silence, throwing a glance at her husband every now and then. He stared out the window with a far away look in his eyes, and she knew he was processing. He was a sensitive soul – always had been – and despite the fact that his father had been failing him since he was in diapers, she knew it still any sort of conflict with the man still left him battered and bruised.

She checked on her kids in the back seat of the car. Cleo was looking out the window too, fiddling with her seatbelt and swinging her legs back and forth. Spencer was surprised Toby hadn't asked her to stop kicking his seat, and she had to wonder if he was just that out of it. Wordlessly she reached behind her and placed a hand on her daughter's knee, and Cleo's legs reflexively dwindled into a halt.

Next to her was Eloise, thumb in her mouth and her head leaning against the edge of her car seat. Now that she was in first grade they'd started trying to gently introduce the idea of giving it up, despite all Spencer's instincts screaming that it was too soon and she wasn't ready. At a time like this, she looked into her child's vulnerable eyes and couldn't imagine taking away her primary source of self-soothing.

Lawrence sat very still for once, and he was the only one who looked back at her when her eyes found him in the rearview mirror. "I'm hungry, Mommy," he said, and under different circumstances it might have made her grin because her growing boy was always hungry. Now, it only caused her surprising guilt. These poor kids hadn't even had lunch.

Toby woke from his reverie at their son's words, his own fatherly instincts undoubtedly kicking in. He quickly consulted his phone, and was giving her driving directions away from the interstate soon after. A Happy Meal at McDonalds was hardly a conventional Thanksgiving feast, but the kids didn't complain. On the contrary – it seemed to lift their spirits, and when they were finished she and Toby allowed them some time on the adjoining playground. They shouted and laughed for the first time all day, but Toby's still somber outlook prevented Spencer from feeling complete relief.

She reached out and rubbed the back of his neck. "You okay?"

He shrugged, but she swore she saw him relax slightly under the ministrations of her fingers. When he didn't immediately answer, she continued and moved closer to him on the bench.

Finally he spoke, and his eyes didn't leave their playing children. "I just keep thinking everything would have been so different if my mom was still here."

Her hand suddenly fell still, and she looked at him sympathetically. He'd told her before how the arrival of their children had made him miss his mother on a whole new level. He'd never quite gotten over being deprived of her from such a young age, but the fact that his kids would never know their grandmother who surely would have adored them destroyed him in even more profound ways. It was almost too difficult for him to even contemplate, she knew. To think of what his children would have had – the rich kind of love Marion would have brought to their lives if things had gone just a little bit differently.

"I meant what I said," he interrupted her thoughts quietly. "I'm not doing this to them anymore, or to you. If my father wants to see them, he can come to our house where they're comfortable."

She rested her chin on his shoulder and nodded, feeling limp with fatigue as she realized she was perfectly willing to let him call the shots on this one. He lifted his arm to pull her all the way against him and tuck her head under his chin, and together they watched their children play in silence for several minutes.

There was a massive secret she was still keeping from him after all these years. Toby's father played such a small role in their lives that it certainly didn't cause her any daily distress – in fact, sometimes weeks went by that she didn't even think about it – but every once in a while she would look in her husband's unsuspecting eyes and feel something gnawing at her conscience, almost like a growing pain.

She'd always prioritized Toby's bond with his father over her own discomfort with the situation, but after what happened today did it even make sense anymore? She'd kept quiet so her husband could rebuild his relationship with his only living parent and so her children would know their grandfather, but all that had just gone up in smoke. And when she really allowed herself to think about it, she knew the tension had been simmering underneath the surface for long before she and Daniel had ever made their pact.

It would be a big deal to him, she knew. Toby was Toby and he didn't do well with secrets or lying, including from their children and especially from her. She waited until the day was over and they'd put the kids to bed, and it made her feel horrible because he was finally starting to seem a little like himself again after today's awful events.

He was cleaning up in the kitchen as she observed him through the open doorway, apprehension welling up inside her. She knew she needed to come clean now or take this secret to the grave, because she no longer had a valid excuse to keep it from him.

"Hey…" She trailed a hand down his muscled back. "Can we talk for a second?"

He looked around at the half-organized kitchen. "Now?"

"It's important."

He must have caught something in her face because he lowered the rag without another word and followed her to the couch in the living room. His expression was so patient and accepting as they sat down together. He always looked at her like she was so much better than she actually was, and it made it that much harder to fess up to things she knew would disappoint him.

"Remember when your dad suddenly called you out of the blue with a peace offering? When I was pregnant with the kids?"

He nodded and she shifted uncomfortably. "Well… There's something you don't know."

"What?" he asked softly, and she chanced a brief look at him.

"I met him for coffee a few days before. He asked me not to tell you."

His whole demeanor changed, and she could tell how tense he suddenly was. "Why?"

"Because… Because he essentially told me he'd never believed in our relationship, and he wanted me to convince him."

"Convince him of what?"

"I don't know!" she cried, though she did. She just didn't want to have to say it out loud. "That I loved you, I guess. That I wouldn't leave you for something he thought I put more value on."

He was silent for a second or two, and she saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes but when he spoke his voice sounded eerily composed. "And you didn't think I'd want to know about this? I can't believe you kept it from me for over six years. I… I thought we were better than that."

"We are, and I'm sorry, okay? But he asked me not to tell you," she repeated almost pleadingly but he cut her off before she could continue, and now he sounded agitated.

"He's an ass! We both know that! But I thought you and me were the team – not you and him."

"We are," she repeated quickly, feeling her body temperature rise. This was exactly what she'd been afraid of. The idea that he'd think she'd concocted something with his father behind his back. "But… I didn't want to ruin any chance you had of reconciling with him. I didn't want you to be mad at him."

"That's great, Spencer." He sounded upset more than angry, but that contradicted his next words. "That worked out really well because now I feel mad at both of you."

He moved away from her. He got up and headed for the door, and her heart started to pound when she saw him reaching for his coat and pulling on his shoes.

"Toby…"

"I can't do this now," he said shortly. "I need some air."

He hadn't done this in years – not since long before the kids were born. He moved to other parts of the house, yes, and sometimes to his workshop in the backyard but he didn't take off anymore, leaving her to pray to a God she wasn't sure even existed that he would return to her safely.

She startled as the front door fell shut angrily, and her vision went blurry with unshed tears.

May 2030

The morning of the funeral, Spencer expected it to be pouring rain just like in the movies. Instead, she grew aware of sunlight on her face as her brain chased away the last of its drowsiness and reminded her that today was no ordinary day. She slowly pealed back her eyelids and turned onto her side to face her husband in the bed. His eyes were still closed as they usually were in the mornings, and she leaned in to press a soft kiss against his neck. He still didn't open his eyes but his arm tightened around her and brought her closer, and she rested her head against him and allowed herself a brief moment of serenity.

"This is your last chance to get out of this," Toby finally spoke hoarsely, and she knew he was mostly teasing despite the underlying genuinity in his offer.

"Will you stop?" she retorted. "I'm coming and that's all there is to it."

They'd decided together to keep the kids in school, mostly because barring Jenna from them was still high on their priority list but also because they'd both observed them closely in the past five days and hadn't noticed any indications that they needed this official goodbye. Toby had told her not to feel obligated to go either, but she'd given him a look that made him smile ruefully and declare she was regarding him like he had seven heads.

She hadn't been to Rosewood since Christmas, and as they passed the infamous sign she couldn't help thinking that this town in springtime looked like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Toby parked behind the church, took the keys out of the ignition and turned to her tentatively.

"What?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

He reached out and gently massaged the back of her scalp with his fingertips. "Don't let Jenna get a rise out of you, okay? If she says things to try and get under your skin – which she probably will – just ignore it?"

She huffed. "I'll do my best but I can't promise anything."

"Fair enough," he relented with a smile.

They exited the car, and she pulled her black dress down before letting him swallow up her hand with his. They walked up to the church together, standing slightly to the side and nodding awkwardly at everyone who arrived as Jenna and Celeste greeted the very same people with their best victim-faces firmly in place. The front pew was reserved for the four of them, and Spencer felt a hot flush creep on her face as she realized Jenna had manipulated the situation so she would wind up next to Toby. She quickly squeezed between them, feeling repulsed at the idea of sitting next to the woman but thinking hell would freeze over before she allowed Toby to.

He held up pretty well, considering. Tears fell down his face as the coffin was carried in to the tune of Pachelbel's Canon, but other than that he sat quietly, clasping her hand between both of his and keeping himself in check the way he'd told her beforehand his father would have wanted him to.

Jenna delivered an impressive and eloquent speech about her stepfather. She'd always been both an excellent public speaker and a formidable manipulator – everything Toby was not – and Spencer's heart ached for him as he had to listen to his rapist use all her charm to paint a false picture of the kind of man and father Daniel Robert Cavanaugh had been. Jenna spoke at length of her history with him and her mother's history with him, but only mentioned Toby at the very end and didn't mention Spencer or the kids at all. The pastor briefly acknowledged his first wife, Marion, but other that she, too, was lost in the debris.

When they made their way back outside to the sunny skies, Spencer nodded at a few more people before gently wrapping Toby in a nice, long hug. She figured he needed it, and she could easily tell by the way he relaxed at the sensation of her hand running soothingly across his back that her instincts had been spot on.

They were interrupted by Emily, who wanted to say goodbye before she left. She had accompanied her parents to the church, but while Pam and Wayne had been invited by Celeste to attend the gathering at the Cavanaugh house afterwards, Emily was not. Toby apologized profusely once again as she hugged him, but she was gracious as ever and told him not to worry about it.

Peter and Veronica found them shortly after. Spencer had been surprised and somewhat impressed that they'd even wanted to come to this thing in the first place, considering she didn't think they'd ever exchanged two words with Toby's father, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Her heart swelled to see them treat Toby with consideration and support – Veronica patting his chest in an almost motherly way and Peter even stepping forward to give him an awkward hug.

"That stepsister of yours really is a piece of work," he muttered, clearly miffed that his daughter and grandkids hadn't made it into her speech.

"Dad," Spencer hissed warningly, but her embarrassment lessened when she noticed her father's words had made Toby smile for the first time since the ceremony began.

After her parents left, he informed her he wanted to express his gratitude to Pastor Ted before they headed for the house he had grown up in for the final part of the goodbye. As she waited for him, she was approached by an elderly lady she didn't recognize.

"Excuse me," she said politely. "Are you Toby's wife?"

"Yes," Spencer confirmed, surprised. "And you are…?"

"We used to live next door to them – my late husband and I. Back when Toby was a little boy and Marion was still alive. We used to have him over for milk and cookies sometimes. He was such a sweet kid."

Spencer was intrigued. She looked more closely at the woman and guessed she was in her eighties, which meant she had a good twenty years on Toby's parents. "Do you still live in Rosewood?"

"No," she replied with a slight shake of her head. "We moved to an apartment in Guilford about a year before Marion died. We came back for her funeral, though. Last time I saw Toby until today."

Spencer lowered her eyes and swallowed. She could only imagine how broken he must have been at his mother's funeral. She felt oddly grateful that she was at least able to hold his hand through his father's.

"I was hoping to talk to him," the woman went on. "Is he still here?"

"He went to thank the pastor but he should be back any minute," Spencer informed her, which seemed to satisfy her.

"You guys got kids?" she asked.

"Three," Spencer nodded, ignoring the slight disbelief that still sometimes overcame her when she answered this question – because who would have thought Spencer Hastings would ever have three kids? Seeing that the woman genuinely seemed interested, she reached for her phone and rapidly swiped through her pictures to find the most recent one of their three little troublemakers at the park.

The woman smiled when she saw them, even tilting Spencer's phone so she could get a better look. "Those are some cute kids. And that one looks just like Toby when he was little," she added, pointing to Eloise.

Spencer couldn't help it. She grinned as her heart nearly burst with pride, and she found herself missing her children with a sudden, almost painful ferocity.

"I know these aren't the best of circumstances," the woman continued, and her voice had gone soft. "But I've been watching him all day, and despite everything he has a sense of peace about him. After Marion…" She shook her head sadly. "It's nice to know he found some happiness."

This woman didn't even know that Marion's death had only been the tip of the iceberg in the unraveling of his childhood adversities, but as Spencer looked at this stranger she couldn't help feeling overwhelming gratitude that Toby had been loved. He had been appreciated for the kind soul that he was, and that brought her some semblance of comfort.

"Here he comes," Spencer nodded in his direction.

She saw her husband halt in his footsteps as a puzzled look crossed his face, but then recognition swept over him and his face broke out into a timid smile.

November 2028

It was late, and Toby still wasn't home, and Spencer still hadn't slept a wink.

Facing the idea of going to bed without him had been devastating, but around midnight Spencer had to face reality and accept that she could be waiting for him until the wee hours of the morning at this rate. She looked in on the kids before turning in – something they usually did together, and as Spencer kissed their sleeping faces and pulled the covers higher up on their shoulders she had to wonder how single mothers did this. How they dealt with the enormous responsibility of making sure their children were a perfectly balanced combination of kind to others but still strong enough to make sure their own needs didn't get trampled on. It was something that constantly kept her mind going, and Toby's unexpected absence made her ponder how she would survive the nearly constant anguish of parenthood if he weren't there for her to bounce her worries off of.

She really tried to sleep. She really, really did. She told herself she should close her eyes, and he'd be there as she opened them when the skies had turned light again. He might still be upset and might not cuddle with her like he usually did in the mornings, but he'd be there and they could figure things out because at the end of the day he loved her and she loved him and she'd truly come to believe there was nothing they couldn't overcome.

Honestly, she understood why this had prompted such an extreme reaction in him. He had spent the first two years of their relationship constantly playing catch-up to the secrets she kept from him. Of course he'd kept some pretty big ones of his own, but she knew that was in large part just backlash to the way she had set up their relationship. It had taken a long time for them to completely get past that, to the point that her first instinct had not been to protect Toby from her problems but to let him help her with them. She'd never allowed anyone near her in that very profound, very life-altering way – not because she didn't trust them (though that was the case in many cases, too), but because it wasn't the way she had been taught to exist. She'd been programmed to fix things herself without help from anyone, and that included both personal and practical problems such as homework or drug issues or an argument with a friend. From a young age, she hated dependency on other people so much that she even taught herself to tie her own shoes – not that her parents had noticed their youngest had stopped needing them to do it for her.

To come across someone who wanted to share her burdens had been confusing and almost unsettling as well as absolutely blissful in every way. As much as she knew he would drop everything in a heartbeat to help her through a storm, taking the steps to actually reach out to him hadn't always come naturally to her. Part of it had been that sharing her secrets could have cost him his life, yes – but in retrospect, Spencer could definitely admit that this was only a portion of the problem. She had denied it at the time, she had sworn to him that she lied to him because she wanted him to be safe; but looking back on the tough-as-nails but terribly vulnerable teenager she had once been, she knew Toby had been right when he claimed she also kept him in the dark because being on her own was all she knew.

Over the years, that had changed. Somehow, they managed together to rewire her brain into believing that letting him see even the ugliest parts of her wasn't the end of humankind as she knew it. And in contrary to her brain, her heart hadn't needed any rewiring. It had wanted him all along.

They had thrived away from Rosewood, both as individuals and as a couple, and one day Spencer had looked at him and wondered how it would have gone if circumstances had allowed their relationship to be this easy from the very beginning.

She knew that keeping this secret had reminded her husband of the Spencer who had lied to him over and over because she was simply more comfortable alone. And even if he realized on a rational level that this wasn't the reason, he had parts of him that were damaged and traumatized, too. She couldn't blame him for that. She could feel shattered that he had regressed to leaving her after an unblemished record of over a decade, but in all honesty it destroyed her for him as much as it did for her.

At long last, she heard the faint reverberations of his truck pulling up in the driveway. She felt the muscles over the entirety of her body relax, even though she knew it wasn't over. They would still need to talk, and she would still need to explain and possibly defend her decisions.

He took his time making his way through the house, and she heard his footsteps briefly enter their children's rooms before they approached her. He entered their bedroom quietly, and very slowly made his way over to the bed – in case she was asleep, she realized. She could only barely make out the expression on his face in the dark, but she could tell immediately from his posture that he was no longer angry.

Seeing she was awake he carefully crawled on the bed, atop the covers. He moved close to her, and when he gently leaned his forehead against hers she nearly cried. Her arms reflexively wrapped around his shoulders, and she whispered, "I'm sorry."

He sighed deeply and pulled back to run his fingers through her messy curls. "I love you more than anything is this world, Spencer." He sounded exhausted, like he'd just fought a war. "Fuck if I'm going to let my father cause any more problems between us."

She was relieved to hear that, but it didn't stop her from still wanting him to understand her motivations. "I knew that if I told you, you'd take it badly. And I wanted this second chance for you both. For you, and for the kids. I was pregnant, Toby. Even back then, I had this instinct in me to give them the world."

"I know," he sighed again in resignation. "He put you in an impossible position. I do realize that, and I'm fucking sorry."

She hadn't expected him to apologize – not for that. For leaving, maybe, but not for that.

"How is that even remotely your fault?" she asked softly, and in response he moved onto his back. He stared at the ceiling, and it was a long time before he answered.

"I brought him into your life," she finally spoke. "The kids are related to him because of me. He never takes responsibility for the damage he does, so I guess it's up to me to do it for him."

"Toby?" She rolled on her side and ran the palm of her hand back and forth across his chest. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

He chuckled. Then he returned to her and pressed a long, tender kiss to her lips. When he pulled back she still held his face between her hands, and although he smiled at her she sensed that there was still more to come. And sure enough, when he spoke again his voice was quiet, serious and very subtly hesitant.

"Is there anything else you've been keeping from me? About anything? For whatever reason? Because if there is, please just tell me. I promise I won't get upset, but… I do need to know."

"No," she said instantly, despising the notion that he had questioned what else she was calculatedly hiding from him. "And thank God because I hated every second of it."

He looked into her eyes is that way that made her feel like he was staring straight into her soul, but she easily looked back. It used to make her feel slightly uneasy when he did that, but now she had nothing to conceal and she wanted him to have no doubts about it.

He kissed her again in acceptance and then mumbled something about getting ready for bed. He only spent a few minutes in the bathroom, but she swore in those few minutes she came closer to falling asleep than in the two hours she'd spent tossing and turning before. When he came back to bed, he cuddled her from behind and she felt the last of the tension leave her body.

"I'm sorry," he murmured suddenly. "For taking off. For making you worry. I thought I was past that but apparently not."

She reached out behind her and cupped his cheek in an instinctive act of comfort. "We all fall back into old habits sometimes." She hoped he knew she was talking about herself as well as him. "It's okay. We start again tomorrow and try to do better."

He was silent for a moment. "When did you get so wise?" he asked, clearly teasing.

She smiled faintly in the dark. "I learned from the best."

May 2030

After a brief but happily nostalgic conversation with Toby's old neighbor, they exchanged phone numbers and said their goodbyes. The part that Spencer and Toby both dreaded the most called their attention now, and as they pulled up to the Cavanaugh house Spencer couldn't help but think there had always been something about this place that gave her the creeps. Even when Toby had still lived here and invited her over, which wasn't often and always when no one else was home, there had been something eerily gloomy about it. Her own house at the time hadn't exactly been a textbook example of warm and loving, but at least it was free of that depressing omen that always seemed to linger in this one. Even their children had sensed it, Spencer knew, and this had contributed to them disliking coming here.

Celeste had organized a small gathering, and as Spencer looked around the room she quickly realized she barely recognized anyone. They talked briefly with Emily's parents, who wisely made an early escape and afterwards she and Toby just stood around awkwardly, feeling like foreigners as Celeste and Jenna gave them the cold shoulder.

At one point she noticed Toby heading for the hallway, and she quickly set her coffee down and went to follow him. He was at the top of the stairs by the time she'd caught up, smiling slightly when he saw her and clearing his throat.

"I haven't been up here in years," he told her gruffly.

She joined him in making his way through the second floor, stopping to look closely every once in a while or trace something with his fingers. He shared some of his memories with her, told her little things mostly stemming from the times when his mother was still alive, and it always warmed her heart to think of her husband as a kid – the blonde locks and blue eyes and sweet smile that Spencer had seen in pictures. And as he went from room to room, she came to realize what he was doing and what this was all about.

He was saying goodbye. Daniel had left the house to his wife in his will, and Toby was simply walking through it one last time before he left his childhood home for good.

"We can still stop by here if you want," she said softly after a while, grazing his palm with her nails. "When we're in the neighborhood or whatever. She can't deny you that."

But he shook his head with a self-conscious shrug. "This place hasn't felt like home since my mom died. Now…" He lowered his eyes. "There's nothing here that makes me want to come back. Everything I loved is gone."

She gave a single nod and willed herself not to get emotional as she struggled to remind herself that besides some early, more joyous memories with his mother, he had also survived horrific abuse and neglect in this house. And sure enough, when they reached Jenna's old room – the one that was his first – he didn't go in. She knew this was where most of his violation had taken place, and it seemed he simply wasn't up for it.

They made their way back down the stairs, and seeing they hadn't been missed Toby led the way to the basement. This stuffy but rather large space had become his bedroom once Celeste and Jenna had moved in, and when he opened the door they saw it had returned to its original purpose of storage area. Spencer stole a quick glance at him to check on his reaction, but to her great surprise she saw the tiniest of smirks on his lips.

Puzzled, she was going to ask until the answer hit her out of nowhere and she felt a slow flush creep on her cheeks. "Oh my God, Toby…"

"What?" he shrugged. "It's the happiest memory I have in his room. Let me remember it."

She had been a senior in high school, and Toby was living in the loft already but his father had guilted him into dropping by to water the plants while he and Celeste were in New York City for a few days and Jenna was away at boarding school. She'd accompanied him, and they were inside for no longer than two minutes before she started pestering him to check out what they'd done to his bedroom now that he was out of the house. His narrow twin bed had still been there at the time, and it had been all they needed.

"I can't believe Spencer Hastings is in my bed," he had joked as they lay together in a naked heap of sated bliss. It had made her laugh unexpectedly and connect their lips in another deep kiss, and before she knew it they were at it again. She still remembered the unparalleled thrill of discovering sex with Toby – how indescribable it felt to be that close to him, their bare skin brushing up against one another and the look of total abandon in his eyes.

She peered into those same eyes now, and her breath caught when she saw that same now familiar look. She didn't know who made the first move but soon they were kissing, and he lifted her up against him so she could wrap her legs around his waist. Half-clothed quickies in awkward positions had never been the way of lovemaking they tended to gravitate towards – they usually preferred complete nakedness and a bed or a couch they could cuddle in afterwards, ideally forever – but now she couldn't imagine anything more perfect. They fumbled with clothes and amusedly hushed each other when things threatened to get too loud. His hands were all over her and his mouth was hot against her neck, and faintly it occurred to her that no matter how they did this he always managed to make her feel loved.

They found an intense, angsty rhythm, and Spencer's fingers tightened in his hair as she gasped in pleasure and rocked against him. Only a flawlessly balanced concoction of passion and tenderness could make her feel like she was flying like this and that was exactly what she felt for him, she thought as her lips found his again. In this moment, they were not parents to three children, he was not the grieving son and she was not the consoling wife. They were simply Spencer and Toby, and the rest of the world was no more than an afterthought.

When they made their way back upstairs feeling sweaty but satisfied, she swore Jenna had figured out what transpired in the dark, musty basement. She didn't know how this woman managed to know freaking everything, especially while being blind, but for once Spencer found herself not giving a shit. Toby was smiling, and she felt physically and emotionally gratified. That was all that mattered.

They didn't stay for much longer. They said their farewells, told Celeste they'd be in touch to sort out Daniel's will and left the house with only the slightest bit of sentimentality.

Spencer had every intention of heading home and maybe getting a head start on her weekly cleaning routine, but it quickly became apparent her husband was steering the car in a different direction. She'd been unable to keep her hands off him since ascending from the basement, and now the hand that rested on his thigh tightened in disbelief and excitement as she recognized her surroundings.

"You're such a romantic bastard," she couldn't stop herself from telling him, and he chuckled as he stopped the car in their favorite spot in the woods that overlooked Rosewood.

It had been years since they'd been here – not since the kids, Spencer was pretty sure – but it hadn't changed much. They settled on a blanket Toby had pulled from the car, and for a long while they sat in comfortable silence as she enjoyed the sensation of him slowly trailing his hand up and down her back.

Finally, she sighed and used her fingers to gently tilt his face to hers. "How are you doing? Was today awful?"

"Parts of it," he admitted, but then graced her with a small, mischievous smile. "Other parts were actually surprisingly sweet."

She grinned back, but then turned serious. She hadn't asked too much of him in this past week – not wanting to push, not wanting to hurt him more than he was already hurting and not wanting to force him to confide in her when Toby had always been a process-first-talk-later kind of person. The abruptness of his father's death had shaken the core of his being, especially since it had left so many painful issues between them unresolved.

"How were things with your dad that last day?" she finally dared to ask cautiously. "Did you have a good talk?"

He stared out in front of him, and it took him a while to answer. "Not really. Not anything out of the ordinary, anyway. I know I called you and said I wanted us to try again with him but it was probably just in the emotion of the moment. I wasn't ready to part with him. I'm still not, but I guess the universe did it for me."

Her hand reached out to him, squeezing his knee tightly. "He loved you. Don't you think for a second that he didn't."

He shook his head – not in disagreement, but in reassurance. Then he pulled her closer, both arms wrapping around her as he brushed her eyelids with his lips. "Thank you for today," he murmured. "Thank you for the last twenty years."

"Nineteen and a half," she corrected him lightly, and he grinned as he always did at her obsession with accuracy.

They left in time to pick up their children from school, who where delighted to find both parents waiting for them together since their jobs didn't often allow it. The kids were full of stories and cuddles and youthful enthusiasm, and as she and Toby kissed their cheeks her heart swore she'd left them for a three-week vacation while her brain insisted it was a simple one-day trip to Rosewood.

Eloise stood between them already holding each of their hands, and so Spencer reached for Cleo's and Toby reached for Lawrence's, and linked together they all made their way back to the car.