"I'm so sorry," the doctor said, "but there really was nothing we could do."

Peter clenched his jaw and nodded. "Why…?"

"Who knows? This is just one of those…" He stopped. "I'm sorry."

Peter nodded, and watched the doctor walk away from him. He walked into the side room, pushing the door shut behind him. "Sarah?" he said softly, looking at the small figure curled up on the bed. "Sarah?"

She said nothing.

He walked around the bed so he was standing in front of her. After a minute she shifted over and let him climb up to lay next to her, sitting up slightly so she could settle back down on his shoulder.

"I'm so, so, so sorry," she whispered as the tears began to drop onto his shirt.

"I hate it when you say that."

"I can't do this anymore. I just… I can't…"

"Sarah…"

"This is not just me reacting, this is not me hurting… This is me saying I can't do it. I can't go through this again."

"It's OK," he soothed. "I understand."

But she could tell that he didn't. Partly because she wasn't sure she understood it herself.

Peter dropped the bag in the hallway as Sarah headed straight for the stairs and climbed them. He followed her up to the spare room they had begun to turn into a nursery and joined her in the doorway.

"Lavinia told me that getting stuff in for the baby early is bad luck. I'm now thinking there might be something in it."

"Sarah," Peter said softly, wrapping his arms protectively around her waist.

"I haven't changed my mind. I can't."

"You want kids. We both do."

"I know."

"Then what's changed?"

"Five miscarriages in three years," she said bluntly. She peeled his arms from her body and moved away from the nursery. "I can't go through that again, Peter. I just can't. No matter how much I want something."

Peter watched her walk into their room, closing the door behind her. Looking back at the room he took in all the things they'd bought each time, thinking that this was it. The crib, the nursing chair, the brightly decorated walls…

He walked into the room, sat on the nursing chair, and after putting his head in his hands he began to cry.

She was still awake when he came to bed, curling in behind her body. He could feel her body shaking with quiet sobs, and when he pressed his face into her back she could feel the tears soaking through her top.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice seeming unnaturally loud in the quiet room.

"For what? It's not your fault, love."

"Feels like it sometimes. I mean, I get pregnant easily enough but staying pregnant… I just feel like I've failed somehow."

"Failed who exactly?" he asked, running his fingers through her hair.

"You."

He sat up slightly, propping himself up on one arm so he could look at her. "Me? Why?"

"I can't give you a baby."

"I have you," he whispered, leaning over and kissing her temple. "Anything else would have been a bonus."

"Yeah, it would have been."

"I love you, Sarah. More than anything. And I know this has been so hard…"

"I don't need time, Peter, I don't need to think about this. I can't do it. I can't go through the worry and the stress and… Maybe I'm just one of those women who's never going to have a kid of her own."

"OK," he said, kissing the side of her mouth.

"You're really OK with this?"

"I hate seeing you like this. I hate it when you're suffering and I can't do anything about it. And if this is what you need… then this is what you'll have."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here. For being a part of my life. I love you, Peter."

"Love you too. My Sarah Jane."

"No… no… I'm sure it's nothing. Yes, I'll let you know. Thank you, Alistair."

Peter hung up the phone and glanced at his watch. She had said she would be back by six, now it was almost nine. She had said she was seeing Alistair but he'd not seen her for weeks. Neither had Harry, and that meant that for the last three weeks when she'd been going off to catch up with them she had been lying to him.

If he was honest things between them hadn't been right for months. She had been distant, flinching whenever he went near her. He had hoped that it was just a phase, that she would snap out of it. After her fifth miscarriage she'd gotten depressed; he'd almost accepted that. They'd gotten help, she'd gone to all the counselling sessions, and he'd begun to believe that she was starting to heal.

Now she was lying to him – where she was going, who she was with. His mind raced through all possibilities. He wanted to believe that it was for some story but her editor had confirmed that Sarah hadn't come back to work after she lost the baby. He didn't want to think that she was having an affair, and he still maintained that he looked in her diary to disprove it.

Instead there had been weekly entries, detailing names and meetings of people he didn't know.

He was sitting on the lower steps when he heard her key turn in the lock. Sarah walked in, pushing the door shut behind her with a look of confusion on her face.

"Peter…?" she began, her eyes flicking from him to the bag by his feet.

"Alistair says he's not heard from you in a while, and that you should give him a call. Harry's not happy you cancelled dinner last week, wants to know when's good for you."

"Peter…"

"Just… tell me you're not having an affair," he said.

"An affair?" she repeated. "Oh… Peter… I would never…" She walked over to him, holding out her hands to him. "I am not having an affair. I promise."

"Then where have you been?" he asked. "Because I am struggling to work out why you would lie to me."

"I'm sorry… I just… didn't know what to do. I was so scared."

"Scared about what?" he asked. "Because right now, Sarah, I'm scared."

"After everything… I couldn't do it to you. I wanted to… I needed to protect you."

"Protect me from what?" he asked, frustration creeping into his voice.

"When I said I was with… I had appointments."

"Appointments?" he asked.

She nodded. "I was at the hospital today…"

Peter felt his stomach turn over. Of course she wasn't cheating on him. He hated himself for thinking it when it all started to become clear. After losing five babies what was the one thing he was most scared of now? Losing her.

Sarah watched his train of thought flash behind her eyes, and she quickly placed her hands on his face, cupping his jaw. "I'm fine, I promise," she said quickly.

Relieved, Peter put his hands over hers, pulling them from his face. "Then what?"

She freed one of her hands and shoved it into her jacket pocket. "I'm sorry you weren't there, but until I knew…"

"Knew what?" Peter asked, taking the paper from her. He unfolded it and his stomach turned over again. "This is…"

"Everything's fine. I've had just about every test they can run, that's the third scan. Everything's… perfect."

"You're pregnant?" he managed to say, allowing the idea to sink in.

"Three months," she said, her mouth curling up into a grin. "You're gonna be a dad."

Peter looked up at his wife, her smile wide and genuine, but nervously waiting for his reaction. He tugged on the hand he was still holding and pulled her down on top of him, his smiling mouth finding her grinning one and stealing it in a kiss.