A/N: Sorry it's been so long since the last update (for those still reading). Hopefully, there will be more frequent updates! :)

A Small Step Forward

She pressed the circularly lit tangerine hued button for a second time. The automatic sing-song chime echoing from the other side let her know the occupants surely heard that. Mentally bracing herself, she straightened her back as her gaze settled on the creme colored door, impatiently waiting for it to open. The level of annoyance she felt from having to take the elevator ride up to his twelfth-floor condo in the first place was indescribable. Sunday was their agreed upon day for her to pick up Zach and Grace. And she had gathered them without fail for the past couple of months by either meeting them in the lobby of his high-rise or waiting for them to come down to her car, which she parked in front of the building. Peter's vague excuse over the phone that the kids weren't ready only ignited her stewing irritation. For that meant she would have to see him. She would have to deal with him. Which, frankly, she didn't want to until their next session. Although it had almost been a week, she was still trying to deal with her emotions. Still trying to accept the voluntary exposure of herself completely to Adam, and especially to Peter after he all but destroyed her. The occasional tears leaking from her eyes was the only resource she had to soak up the pieces of her shattered heart.

But she knew the two teenagers waiting on the other side in the two-bedroom apartment would never let her completely ignore him, or their marriage. He would always be there.

About to ring the doorbell again, that simmering annoyance melted away once she laid eyes on her son who opened the door wide, a cheeky grin adorning his boyish face.

"Hey, Mom!"

She smiled softly. "Zach, honey, hi. Are you and your sister ready?"

"No. The pizza just got here." The smile quickly disappeared from her face. "You should come in and have some with us. We have your favorite—pepperoni."

Pizza? She checked her watch. It was 7:05 p.m. They usually left Peter's no later than seven.

"You're just now having dinner?"

"Yeah. Grace wanted Giordanno's. It got here about ten minutes ago."

She sighed as she bit back the snark remark on the tip of her tongue. All she wanted to do was pick them up and go home to decanter the very fine bottle of red wine she was gifted from a client. Not deal with Peter failing to keep his end of the bargain.

"Where's Dad? It's getting late and you guys—"

"Hey."

Her eyes widened once they settled on his casually dressed form in a red and navy plaid unbuttoned collared shirt with a charcoal grey t-shirt beneath and dark denim jeans. He towered behind Zach in the doorway.

"Hey," she responded, careful to control her aggravation.

Green met brown in a series of icy and questioning stares before he got the hint. Squeezing Zach's shoulder, Peter signaled with a nod of his head for him to leave them alone. Shrugging, the teenager walked away.

Exhaling a breath, he stepped back and gripped the silver doorknob, widening the frame.

"Wanna come in for a second?"

She readjusted her purse on her shoulder and tucked her hair behind her ears. "No." She didn't want to play this game. "Peter, why aren't they ready?"

He smirked at her visible discomfort; he always thought she was cute when she became upset.

"I took them to see Mom and we stayed a little longer than intended." He should have known that his excuse of them visiting Jackie would not dispel her irritation; her stoney face said it all. "Come on, just let them have their pizza then you guys can be on your way. It will be all but fifteen minutes, tops."

Against her will, she sighed heavily and crossed into his home, choosing to remain by the entryway while he closed the door. It was weird being here. She had not come here since the night she got it for him. And from the looks of it, he had certainly turned it into a home. Family pictures, awards and a few other belongings that added his signature touch adorned walls, corners and tables. She had expected to be greeted with more of a reminiscent bachelor decor, not simplistic and cozy.

Peter trailed his eyes over her steeled back, content with watching her as she ingested the apartment. He noticed her close distant to the door. She was hesitant, and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel a bit out of place himself.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he walked over and nudged her shoulder with his own. "Come on in and have some pizza. We have your favorite."

Reluctantly, she began to walk alongside him.

"You look nice," he said, admiring her fitted black midi skirt, long sleeve white, peplum blouse that enhanced the subtle curve of her hips and pointed black heels. He could only guess her sharp but relaxed attire meant one thing. "Worked today? On a Sunday?"

She clasped her hands together and nodded. "Yeah. Long story."

He nodded, grinning once they walked into the dining room to find Grace and Zach fighting over who would get the bigger of the four cheese slices.

"Some things never change, huh?" he whispered in her ear. She couldn't resist a smile as she watched him trail over and settle the dispute in less than four words.

"Hey, Mom!" said Grace as she gave her brother a warning look before settling in her seat and stuffing her mouth.

"Hi. What did you all do today?" she asked, cautiously walking around the table towards the empty seat beside her daughter.

"Visited a couple of museums downtown then went to see Grandma," she said in between bites.

"How is she doing?"

Zach rolled his eyes. "Fine."

Alicia pulled out the chair and slowly sat down. When Peter set a plate in front of her filled with two slices of pepperoni and pushed a glass of wine next to her plate, she met his warm eyes with defiance.

"A little pizza won't hurt you. And I can tell you haven't had dinner. So eat."

He can tell I haven't eaten? Watching him sit across from her and pile his own plate, she hung her purse on the back of her chair and reached for a napkin. Draping it over her lap, she inhaled a deep breath and reached for the glass of wine.

"So, Mom. We have to tell you. Dad took us bowling yesterday and he almost slipped on the lane," Grace laughed.

Alicia looked at Peter, her brow arched in curiosity. He smiled knowingly over the foam topped brim of his glass filled with beer as he eyed his daughter.

"I thought that was our secret."

"It was until the old lady league next to us started hitting on you."

Smirking, Alicia deposited the stemware back onto the table and reached for her fork. "Seems I miss a lot on the weekends."

"You should come with us sometime," said Grace.

"I'll just let you two enjoy all of the embarrassing moments with Dad."

Slipping a piece of pizza in her mouth, she caught Peter's smug gaze on her as he sipped from his snifter shaped glass. She wondered what was going through his mind right now, or rather, if he knew what was going through hers. Could he see how much she didn't want to be here? How uncomfortable this was?

"So, how is therapy?" asked Zach, breaking their gaze.

"What made you ask that?" said Peter.

"I don't know. You or Mom never really talk about it. I was just wondering if it's been working." He shrugged his shoulders.

Alicia stared at the dropped head of her son, her heart softening. His innocent question reminded her why she didn't throw in the towel and say to hell with it all. She didn't want to make the same mistake her parents did; at least not without saying she did try and give it one last shot.

"It's a process, Zach. Your mom and I," Peter looked at her, smiling, "We're just taking it one day at a time."

"Does that mean we'll get a house and all live together again after you finish therapy?" asked Grace.

"How about we save those questions for later and you hurry and eat so you two can get back to your Mom's. She's had a long day."

Alicia's eyes shot to Peter's. She mouthed a grateful 'thank-you'. His simple nod before he resumed eating while listening to their children begin to argue about a popular student at their school made her question the same things herself. Once they were finished with therapy, is this what they were destined for? Family dinners? A life of peace and balance they used to have? The weight of that notion all but scared her.

"So, did you have any…thoughts? Anything you want to share with me?" asked Peter.

They sat in two black leather high-top barstools at the kitchen island while waiting for Zach and Grace to gather their belongings from upstairs. She dreaded this moment. Being left alone with him outside of their therapist office was a confrontation she wasn't quite prepared for. Not yet. But after he hurried the kids to pack their things, she figured ten minutes wouldn't hurt. Even if they didn't speak a word. It would just be ten minutes…

Propping her elbow along the black granite, she eyed him. "Did you?"

He grinned as he slouched in the chair and folded his arms over his chest. "Yeah." Leaning his head back, he ran a hand down his neck before rolling his head in her direction. "I'm sorry."

Her brows knitted in confusion. "For?"

He sighed. "For not trying harder when you needed me to most. For sleeping with Amber and Kalinda."

A slow and shaky breath floated past her lips. She didn't expect him to actually have thought about Dr. Lewis' request and fully act upon it. Nor would she admit she had brewed over the task more than she predicted.

"I never planned to sleep with either of them. I—"

"Peter, no." Her eyes shut tight. "I'm not ready to hear about that." She shook her head. "Not now."

"Okay. But I want to tell you when you are."

She nodded.

He cocked his head to the side and smiled at her in a way that used to make her weak in the knees and feel warm inside. For a second, she wondered how they truly got here. He was everything, her everything, and then—nothing. The life they had built together seemed like a dream from years prior, as if they had never lived it. It was intangible for them to ever go back.

"How about you?" he asked.

Biting her lower lip, she stared into his eyes briefly before climbing from the barstool and trotted towards the entry to the kitchen, peeking around the corner to ensure the kids weren't near. Once she saw the coast was clear, she trailed back to her seat, careful not to let her heels click too much along the hardwood floor.

"I never wanted to take my life by overdosing," she whispered, settling back atop the cushion. "Yes, I may have gotten pill happy, but I never overdosed. I was just…depressed. That day, I was despondent when you found me. I wanted more than anything to give up, but I was in there. Still fighting."

His heart sunk as he reached out to rest his hand on the back of her chair. She dropped her head and focused on her wedding band, beginning to twirl it. It wasn't an option to meet his eyes.

"I know." The visible pain of the hurt her had caused her was evident, even in her drooped shoulders. He resisted the urge to pull her into a hug and discuss the topic more. It was a touchy one for them, one where he knew it would be best to let her do all of the talking and all of the sharing first.

"Feel better?" he asked after a moment.

She cracked a somber smile. "It felt more like a confession than communicating."

"I don't think you would have ever told me that, let alone that we would even talk about that time if it wasn't for Dr. Lewis."

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I know."

He watched her continue to avoid looking his way. She was still broken. He did this. He had caused all chances of her emotional healing to diminish and fade in the wind. Only time is what he would offer her now. Though he wanted more than anything to hurriedly put the pieces of their marriageback together, he knew it would take time. And most of it on her terms.

"You alright?" he asked, leaning across the space, attempting to get a glimpse of her face hidden behind the curtain of her hair.

Flipping her layered locks over her shoulder, she met his concerned face and could only nod. She was trying with all of her might to push those rushing emotions back down which threatened to drown her. Their family dinner. The miscarriages. His apologies. Their children's innocent inquires. It all hit her too soon and too fast.

"I'll get the kids. Be right back," he whispered, noticing her internal debate.

Slipping from the stool, he gave her a moment to pull herself together as he walked around her and up the stairs, missing the remorseful look in her eyes and mumbled, "Thank you."

The hour was late, and she felt it. After she and the kids arrived home just a few hours ago and got themselves prepared for the dreaded Monday, her thoughts began to meander again. The dinner. His words. Her words. Zach and Grace questioning the future. Their family dinner—again.

Get a grip.

Shaking her head, she saved those thoughts to dwell on tomorrow as she pulled the sheets up to her neck. Turning onto her side, she reached a hand up to turn off her bedside lamp when her cell phone began to vibrate against the table. Picking it up, her face contorted into more confusion when she saw who the caller was. Swiping across the screen, she answered his call.

"Hey, are the kids sleep?"

She checked the time. 11:02 p.m. He knew they were sleep.

"Yes. Peter, is something wrong?" She propped herself against her pillow and leaned her head back against the headboard. When he didn't readily answer, she became even more concerned. "Peter?"

"Sorry, ah no. Everything's fine. I was just thinking about our last session. And dinner tonight."

She brought the covers up to her chest and slid further beneath the sheets, keeping the phone pressed to her ear.

"What about them?"

She heard a glass clink against some opposing surface. He was drinking; she should have known. He has always enjoyed a glass of brandy as a night cap.

"Would you mind if we did individual sessions? I would like to have one with Dr. Lewis next week instead of our usual, if that's alright with you."

Her brows furrowed. "An individual session? Why?"

He lazily sighed into the receiver. "I've been thinking…about us…about what we've shared in therapy. I-I want to come into our next session with a better understanding of me, and what I did. Even you can't explain or rationalize my actions. You were always my answer to everything."

She nodded, remembering how he used to say those very same words to her on a weekly basis.

"I know." You were mine, too. Her eyes closed at the memory.

"I remembered when I had a few sessions in prison." He did? "It really helped clear my mind and think about changing."

She became quiet as she processed this new tidbit. He never told her this.

"So, what do you say?"

Honestly, there was no reason to oppose. In fact, she should be thanking him. She needed a break, needed to re-evaluate herself.

"Sure, if that's what you want to do."

"Will you as well?"

"I don't know."

A pregnant pause filled the line, resonating in each of their ears as nothing short of awkward.

"Well, thank you for staying for dinner tonight. You don't always have to be a stranger on my weekends."

"Peter, I believe that's the point of us being separated."

"Maybe we should reconsider that."

She sighed and held her head into her hand. It was late. And he was on a high she knew from that small milestone they made today.

"Everything is still so fresh. We—"

"I know. I was just…speaking out loud." He grew quiet. "I'll, uh, let you go to sleep now. See you Friday when I pick them up at six?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Goodnight, Alicia."

"Goodnight."