A/N: Minor to major angst warning depending on how fragile you are :D Reviews are loved JSYK!

SPOV:

Two months, that's all it took. Two months, of expectation, peer pressure and family expectancy for Eric and I to self-destruct.

We did everything that a newly engaged couple was meant to do. We announced it to our friends, to our family, to our neighbors—even going as far as to allow our friends to throw us an engagement party, for crying out loud.

The decorators had finally finished the business, everything was—at least in that area of my life—all in order. I was however, working harder than I had ever worked before. The disgusting thing was, I really did think that I could do it all on my own.I was unwilling to accept help from just about anyone, unless I sought them out. I was on a one woman mission to prove to … well, no one but myself, that just because I'd opted to stall my career, didn't mean it was over. I could be a business woman again. I could be successful and still be a mom. It wasn't until I took my engagement ring off for the first time since putting it on, that I realized I had never included Eric in my little equation.

I should have known really, there were little signs everywhere, long before he'd put that ring on my finger. But it seemed we both ignored them; ignored them so well that we were both slapped in the face by what a sham our relationship had become.

It started when the restaurant project began. Whether or not he admits to it, he felt threatened by it, or rather by me. I don't know why for sure, but I was positive that's what it stemmed from.

Then, I was working all the hours God gave me, leaving him to do his own thing, leaving him and Jessica to life at home while I was the one out working. A basic role reversal of the last three years. I loved work, I loved being stressed out and so busy that I couldn't sit down. Busy was good, busy meant business.

The restaurant was taking up all of my time, and I'll admit as a result, other things did fall by the wayside. Our date night—Thursday night—went to Friday, then by Friday I was even busier than I had been on Thursday. It went on this way for weeks on end, at which point during one particularly nasty hushed two a.m. argument, we agreed we wouldn't date since there wasn't much point in it. Apparently, even though I was there 'physically' I wasn't there 'mentally,' at least according to Eric. It was his idea to cancel date night, and while it crushed me now to think of his face … I had agreed. Under the guise of being too busy, I canceled a lot of things. A subject of one our biggest arguments was Pam's baby shower. Since I was the one throwing it and all, it might have helped if I'd been able to show up to the damn thing.

I didn't.

I'd managed to show up, two hours late, to a very pissed Pamela and a rather angry but silent Amelia. It had taken an extra-large Chanel tote in the guise of a baby bag to win Pam back.

I know now that it looks bad, terrible and disgusting, but at the time it was simply business. And I felt that if anyone could understand how slippery that slope was, it was Pam and Eric.

But apparently the rules were different for me. They had each other in business. I had no one. And yes, while that had been my choice initially, it wasn't exactly easy.

Between being at the makeshift-almost-finished office almost eleven hours a day, home life took a backseat, perhaps wrongly. At the time, it seemed like the easiest idea. I was, after all, doing this for them. I was doing this so we'd all have that extra income to play around with, and that extra payment every month going into Jessica's college fund. Well as they say, the road to hell was paved with good intentions. My intentions were nothing but pure, and that didn't stop me landing in hell.

Eric and I had stopped having sex two weeks after we got engaged. The apparent 'happiest time' in our lives was being tainted by the reality that neither he nor I made an effort.

Well, that's a little white lie. He made the effort—at first. But I guess after being shot down so many times, the guy just gave up. I don't think I blame him in the slightest.

I remembered sighing as I fell into bed that night, tired beyond even my limits, and knowing I had to get up and do it all again the next day. So when I felt his hands on me, it wasn't that I wanted to run screaming from the room—I didn't—and even if I did, I didn't have the energy. By that point, Eric and I had gone almost two solid weeks without sex, and really without any sexual release whatsoever.

I wanted him as much as I always did. I just didn't have the strength for the kind of sex we had become accustomed to.

"Hey you," he said, his voice muffled by his pillow. His hands found me before he even looked up. When he did, he squinted even though the lights were off and the only light coming through was from the street.

"Hey. Jess go to bed okay?"

"Yeah, mostly. She missed you reading to her. Apparently you do it better than me."

"I do. It's because of the accents," I smiled. "But other than that, no problems?"

"Nope, not a one. I missed you, too," he said, snuggling to be as close as we could get.

"I'm here now." I stroked his face, he had shaved. I always found myself shocked by how baby-faced he looked when he would shave.

He kissed me and I let him. I loved his kisses. No matter how tired I was, they were sometimes the best part of my day. It was when he started getting a little too handsy that I groaned, and not because of where he was headed.

"Eric…"

"Hmm?" he asked, his face buried in my neck as his hands began sliding my sleep shorts down my hips.

"I'm not really in the mood right now," I said, causing him to stall.

Truth be told, that had been my reasoning for two weeks. I was just exhausted and half-assed sex was good for no one—and definitely not for us.

He pulled back and in what little light we had, I could see his eyes perfectly. He looked hurt. I hated that look on his face.

"Oh no, don't do this. Not now," I said. "Eric, I've been at work since seven a.m. It's now one-thirty in the morning, I'm just—"

"Tired. I know. It's just, that's always the reason Sookie, and not to sound like an asshole, but I'm getting tired of hearing it."

"Well, just to be an asshole, you sound like an asshole right now."

"Look, I understand being tired, believe me, but it's all a little much right now. I never fucking see you! And when I do, it's tense and weird, and I hate it. So excuse me for wanting to inject a little bit of fun back into things. Forget it," he huffed before turning away from me.

"You're really doing this? You're really pitching a fit because I won't fuck you?"

He sighed. "It's not about the sex … not even close. And if you think it is, then that just proves my point. Good night."

I don't think either of us got much sleep that night, but neither of us was willing to break down and be the first to speak again either. It fucking sucked.

By the time we'd managed to come around from our spat, again his timing was less than perfect. We'd finally managed to both have late morning starts and with Jessica off to school with Maxine and Hoyt, it left me time to shower and make myself presentable for a sponsorship meeting I was having with some of the other waterfront businesses—particularly the boat trip guys. Since my customers would most likely be theirs and vice versa, I was looking for some free advertising. So when he slipped into the shower beside me, it wasn't unwelcome. In fact, I more than encouraged what I assumed after three weeks of abstinence would be a very intense quickie...

I couldn't have been more wrong.

We'd moved from the shower to the bed—both of us leaving a trail of water behind us—effectively ruining our new fresh sheets as he dropped me onto the bed shielding my body with his seconds later. We'd been driving each other insane for what seemed like forever when I finally felt myself get close, really close. So I egged him on. I nibbled, I sucked, I said all the magic words that I knew he liked to hear just before he got off, all in the hopes of … well … not missing my meeting. It was when he flipped me over, in the attempts to get us in a new position, that I said the words to ruin everything.

And I really regretted it.

"No. We were so close, baby, please."

"This is better. Remember last time?" He grinned and I did remember—it had been epic. But we had the time then, and the pleasure of being lazy and experimental. Now, was not that time.

"Let's just get it over with," I sighed, causing him to stop immediately.

"What?"

"I just… I have that meeting in thirty minutes, sweetie and I have to do my hair and get all the way across town… I just…"

"Get it over with?"

There was his ever present hurt puppy face, again. My heart sank.

"Sweetheart…I didn't mean…" I tried to stroke his face again, but he was having none of it. Looking back now, I don't blame him one bit.

"No. No, don't." He pushed away my attempts at touching him. The fucking stopped. Neither of us was getting off that morning, or after that, ever again it seemed.

He was angry. Again, there I was seemingly shutting him out, pushing him away. How I could have been so blind to it at the time was beyond me.

He walked to the side of the dresser grabbing his boxers and jeans before he angrily got dressed. The anger was evident in his eyes, and by the sheer force in which he yanked on his jeans and the stomping that followed.

"Eric, come on! You know that's not what I meant! I didn't mean that I didn't want to, I just…"

"Wanted to get it over with. No, I get it. Thanks. You made it perfectly clear, Sookie," he said, searching through his drawer for a t-shirt. "I mean. how could I be so stupid as to want to be intimate with my girlfriend, to be close to her and want to start off our day with a little reminder of what we're missing? Jesus, what an ass am I."

"It's not that and you know it."

"No. All I know is that you and I haven't had a civil conversation that didn't involve work or Jessica in weeks, Sookie. Not to mention the fact that we don't even touch each other anymore. And you just proved my point. It's a chore now, huh? That's what it was to you this morning, a chore, like the dishes to be done before you'd leave for your day."

"You're overreacting," I attempted, but an angry Eric was a wordy Eric.

"Like shit I am. You won't even acknowledge it, Sookie! The last month has been the shittiest month I think I've ever had. I miss you! And I feel fucking guilty for missing you! For wanting to fuck my girlfriend, how fucking fucked up is that!"

Angry Eric also liked to say fuck, a lot.

"Eric…"

"No. Don't, okay? Just don't, don't try and placate me like I'm a kid. Not now. I'm fucking angry."

"At me!"

"No. Yes. No! At you, at me, at this whole fucked up tense shit fest of a month. I want things back to the way they were. Is that so wrong?"

It wasn't wrong. It also, apparently wasn't something either of us was going to be capable of. Not right then at least.

The next morning it all came crashing down. It started off somewhat the same, though instead of my stupid request to 'get it over with,' I would be the one requesting that he leave, and that we were in fact, over with. Right before my heart began to break into a million little pieces.

EPOV:

Work—it's all we seemed to talk about. And when we weren't talking about it, we were... working. I missed the old Sookie—the fun, out going, relaxed, ten pounds heavier Sookie who knew when to slow down, and when to speed up. This new Sookie seemed to be on a mission to rule her world in record time. I can't say I understood her rush. I knew as well as anyone around her how important it was taking that step and starting out on your own. And I was so fucking proud of her for doing it. I just didn't think she'd be doing it alone. It wasn't that I doubted her ability because when Sookie put her mind to something, nothing seemed to stop her. That I knew only too well. So this, this would be no different at all.

It was when the phone calls during the day stopped, or when I called and she was 'too busy' to talk. It was when reading to Jessica became ten minutes instead of twenty. It was when we stopped kissing because it was fun. It was when she rejected me time and time again, not only in the bedroom but even in conversation.

She was too tired to talk, she was too tired to snuggle, and she was too tired for sex.

It wasn't that she was the only one that was tired. I had spent the previous three weeks every night at work training my new manager, because apparently being a friend of Pam's might get you the job, but it fails to tell your boss that you're kind of an idiot.

She was attractive in that 'I'm sexy and I know it' sort of way. In other words, she was overtly sexual in just about everything she did or said. Thankfully though, whilst all the other male employees seemed to be tripping over their tongue to talk to her and attempting to flirt with her, I wasn't even slightly interested. She was too much, too showy, and far too obvious in her agenda for my tastes.

She swanned in, in impossibly short skirts and high heels—and as someone who worked with Pam, I knew what a high heel looked like. But hers were in a league of their own. She flirted with the customers, and the staff, both male and female. I assumed she was a lesbian due to what I knew of her past with Pam. So when it happened, I can't say I was at all expecting it.

I flirted with her, of course I did. It was almost impossible not to but, there was a very clear and very well framed picture of Sookie and Jessica sitting on my desk. One I knew she saw everyday. She knew about them, she knew how committed I was to 'us.' She knew it all. But still she'd suggest or hint at things—mostly sexual—that we should or could be doing instead of paper work, invoices, or placing drink orders. Or in general, we should have been doing each other instead of our jobs.

I laughed it off, of course. I mean, it wasn't to say that she and I were ever going to happen… Or at least that's what my brain told me.

Sadly, the day Sookie shunned me, wanting us to 'get it over with,' I was hurt. Like a little bitch. I felt like I'd been kicked in the balls. I left the house in a rage. I'll admit it was mostly directed at her, but more so at myself. Why couldn't I fix us? Why couldn't we just fall back to what we knew, and what was comfortable. I felt that by digging that ring out of obscurity, I really had put a jinx on our happiness.

That was the thing—the ring. I'd had that ring for two years, just sitting chillin' in the tool box in the garage, under some boxes where I knew she'd never look. I'd gotten it on our first trip to California around that time. We'd taken Jessica to visit my mom and Niall, and to dip our toes in the Pacific. It had been a perfect vacation. Even when Sookie ran into Robert Downey Jr, and spazzed like a pro, it had been hilarious and her photo with him sat lovingly beside our family photos as proof. Though her excited eyes and megawatt grin were more hilarious than RDJ's bemused expression. It wasn't the first time for us spending time with Niall and my mother together. No, ever since our little truce, things had been good, very good in fact. Six months after we started dating they came and stayed with us for a week. Jessica instantly fell in love with my grandfather, and I can safely say, the feeling was mutual. They'd been coming to visit us for Thanksgiving and Christmas ever since. Niall convinced me that my thoughts on asking Sookie that all important question weren't bad thoughts to be having, and that if I found the perfect ring I should buy it, whether or not I used it right away. He was the perfect boy scout, my grandfather. He was always preparing, always prepared. So I found it, bought it, and kept it under wraps since the topic of marriage and engagement when brought up, well... Sookie almost always shot right back down again. Insisting that things were fine as they were, there was no pressure from her and there was no pressure from me. All the pressure to conform came from our very lovely, but also very nosy friends. But I ignored them in favor of going with my gut. And I wanted us to be married. I wanted that unity. I craved it. Something that five years previous, I might have laughed at anyone for even suggesting.

I asked her to marry me, and in doing so, I really did jinx us. At least that's how it felt when Yvetta walked into my office that day.

"You seem… tense," came her flirty comment. Or at least it seemed flirtatious, mainly because everything that she did was.

"I'm fine."

"Your neck vein says otherwise." She smiled, "Tell me."

"No. Go… do something."

"I am doing something. I'm finding out of my boss is going to be like a girl on her period all night while we cover the shifts together?"

"Yvetta, it's complicated, okay?"

"Sookie?"

"Yes, Sookie."

"Problems?"

I glared at her.

"Don't look at me, it's the neck vein. Gives you away." She sat on the edge of my desk, crossed her legs and motioned with her hands, as if I was to 'go on.'

"It's personal."

"Uh huh..."

I sighed. "We've been having some problems lately—communicating, mostly seeing each other, mostly just… ugh, everything. Everything is wrong at home, with my relationship, Pam is due to give birth any day now, I just... there's a lot going on."

As always, there I was such the articulate.

"Is she cheating on you? IF she is she's a crazy bitch."

I just rolled my eyes. She wasn't cheating on me… right?

Oh, God that wasn't the best idea to plant in my head, not right then.

"She's—she's not cheating on me, we're just in a really rough patch, personally."

"Are you feeling neglected?"

Pretty much, spot on to be honest. Maybe it was selfish of me, but yes, I was feeling neglected. And not just from Sookie's lovin', but I missed my friend in Sookie, I missed my sparring partner. I just missed her.

"Is it lame of me to say yes?"

"No, but the wrinkles in your shirt …"

"Give me away?"

She smiled. "You're usually more GQ than this, Eric. I knew something had to be up. That, and you're four hours early for your shift."

I planted my head down on my cool desk.

"I don't know what to do."

She sighed heavily before getting up. The next thing I felt were her hands on my shoulders. I tensed immediately.

"Don't be so silly, it's just a massage. You need to relax. You're so tense there are practically rocks back here," she said as she gently pinched and kneaded my shoulders and neck,. I have to admit it was weird, but it also felt a little nice. Contact was nice.

But she wasn't Sookie.

I stood up, clearing my throat slightly in the hopes of not offending her, but also making her stop touching me.

"You, this... we... I can't be doin' this, Yvetta."

"It's just an innocent little massage, Eric. No need to get all freaked out on me."

"I'm not freaked out."

She scoffed.

"I'm not! It's just not right. You're my employee."

She smiled then, a coy smile, while she ran her finger around her necklace. "Oh believe me, I've heard how you treat your employees, Eric."

Gossiping bitches, I swear to God.

"That was one girl, one time and really none of your or their business," I justified.

"Maybe, but it doesn't change the fact that I see it."

"See what?"

"How you look at me, even when you think I don't see you. You enjoy the view. And I have to admit, the feeling is mutual."

"You enjoy looking at yourself?"

"Funny," she said, in an anything but funny voice. She was in full on seduction mode.

"It's okay to look. I like that you look at me, I like that you like looking at me." She stepped closer, and I stepped back. This was not happening.

"But I've been wondering for awhile now, when you'll stop looking… and start touching."

"Wow, no! Noo..." I sounded out the last no, as I held my hands up. "Yvetta, I have enough problems right now…"

"Then let me help? Let me help you forget about them, for a little while."

I was thinking all the things I should have been thinking in that moment. Despite how bashed Sookie had left my ego, I still knew better. I knew better than to fall for a trap so obvious and from someone as predatory as Yvetta. I knew it was all wrong.

But somehow, I don't know why, but when her lips touched mine, she was right. I did forget. Just for a split second. But not about my problems, no, those had just decided to multiply when those lips touched mine. She kissed me with passion, the kind of passion I'd been missing for months, the kind that I yearned to have again, from the woman I loved. And as I responded, that's all it took. One second to kiss her to try and forget Sookie; to try and forget how angry I was at her, and at myself. But forgetting that meant forgetting everything else too, and that I just wasn't about to do.

Seconds.

The mere seconds that kiss with a woman I didn't like—much less love—lasted was all it took to fully destroy my relationship with Sookie.