Ben Harmons POV

Ben shook his head, balancing a book in the palm of his hand. It was one of his old journals, filled with listings and appointments from his past patients. His eyes lifted back to the bookcase, his fingers trailed down marked journals and notebooks until he found the one he was looking for. Tate Langdon was scrawled on the cover. He pulled apart the pages and looked them over. Those days, when Tate pretended to be a sick boy with a twisted mind haunted Ben. Tate had used the idea that he was a patient of Ben's to come into their home, snuggle up to his daughter. Ben pinched the bridge of his noise, blowing out a long frustrated breath.

"Oh don't be so stressed, baby." A pair of hands rubbed his shoulders, warm breath tickled the back of his neck. Ben jumped back, whipping around to glare at Hayden.

"What are you doing?" He hissed. She raised one of her prefect slim eyebrows. Her long brown hair swung down her back, her body was thin and had long lean curves to it. A young body, Hayden was hardly over twenty-one. Ben had to admit she was still as attractive as ever. Hayden pursed her pink lips and leaned towards him.

"I've been lonely, and I know you've been feeling particularly bored to." She said. Ben's face was flat, all emotion he tried to hide from her. In his head he chanted his wife's name. Vivien, Vivien.

"You should leave Hayden." He said looking away from her. She jerked away from him, her eyebrows lowering dangerously in a expression he recognized.

"I can't leave!" She shrieked. Her eyes burned him. "Thanks to someone."

"Then you should go back to wherever you've been hiding and leave my family alone." He snapped. This was his house, his family's new life and Hayden was not going to mess it up for them. She slide closer, her arm snaked around his shoulders and pulled him chest to chest with her. Her smile was pinched and sharp, her face was pushed close to his as she stared into his eyes.

"I'll be here for eternity and so will you. You can't avoid me forever, Ben." She whispered. He choked on what to say. The words were caught in his throat likes fish hook, painfully tearing every time he tried to utter a single word of denial and anger. She stepped back from him and winked.

"See ya' around, babe." And then she disappeared. Ben fell back against the bookshelves Tate's journal clutched in his hands. His breath hitched in his chest and throat. His body ached in one particular place.

Ben groaned and smacked his head hard on the shelf. The air felt heavy and swollen, Hayden's presence still lingering in the air. He felt sick, guilt already eating away at him. Even this two minute encounter could ruin what he'd worked so hard to build again. He'd worked so hard to re-earn trust, to become the part of a good father and husband. But his old desires still festered deep inside him where his rotting corpse still lived.

Ben stood straight and shook his shoulders as if that would make the guilt go away. He pushed Hayden all the way back down to the decomposing heart. She would stay locked up there, he would never be with her again, Ben told himself.

He walked into his bedroom. It was the only room in the house that had managed to keep most of its furniture, the bed was still there as well as Vivien's favorite chair. She was sitting, gently rocking William in her arms. Standing next to her and leaning over the baby cooing and smiling was Travis. Ben quickly stomped on the little bug of jealousy and discomfort. He knew that Travis was kind and loved children, he was around the baby as often as he could.

"Travis," Ben said with a nod. The young man looked up with a wide smile and said hello back.

"Alright, well I'll get going." He said. "Bye Willy, bye Viv." He waved over his shoulder goodbye to the three before ducking out of the room. Ben smiled tightly at him as he left. Vivien smiled at him and shrugged her shoulders.

"He's nice." She said. Ben gave her the stink eye which made her chuckle. Ben leaned over and kissed her on the forehead while pushing down the thoughts of Hayden. Looking down into his sleeping son's face Ben could see the obvious similarities between himself and the baby. Same blue eyes and dark hair and the same thin mouth unfortunately.

Vivien and Ben sat for a while in silence looking at the baby.

"What's Violet doing?" Ben suddenly gasped. He rushed to the window and stared out. She was in the yard facing towards the house slowly marching back inside.

"She was probably just walking around the back yard." Vivien said with a slow shrug.

"What if someone saw her?"

"Chad said the back yard is safe. She's fine, plus I noticed she's been feeling pretty down so I thought the air would do her good."

"She's always in a bad mood," Ben scoffed. Violet… His little girl, but it didn't feel that way anymore. She was still struggling with losing her old life. She would never grow old and get married, never have kids of her own, never go to college, never have any true friends her age. The thought almost brought Ben to tears. He messed everything up, Ben knew that, but he still wanted to give his little girl everything in the world. He wanted to see her happy and satisfied, not stumbling through the halls of house looking for a answer she would never find.

Ben couldn't just walk up to her and expect her to cry on his shoulder, let it all out and slowly get better. Violet wasn't like that. She was stubborn and liked to think of herself as strong. She would never cry and she would never talk to him of all people.

Ben bent down and absently kissed Viv on the head.

"Ben?" She called after him as he walked through the door but he didn't respond.

Back in his office he quickly shuffled through some journals and files, nothing of interest but his mind was else ware.

A memory of Tate suddenly popped in his head. Tate had been leaning forward, his elbows on his knees looking at Ben. It was the day when Ben had desperately sough Tate's insight on Violet, trying to find a way to help her.

"She's not you little girl anymore," Tate said.

Tate, Ben thought, was the root of all this. Red glazed over his vision and held in his breath. Slowly it faded away and when Ben looked back down he saw Tate's journal gripped in his hands.