Andy pulled me into his arms and I fell asleep rather momentarily. When I woke up, I was disoriented, but then I recognised Andy's voice and his familiar scent. His calm voice grounded me and I snuggled back into his warmth and drifted off again. Hmm, Andy, I could feel the vibrations in his chest when he talked, but I couldn't really follow what he and Rusty were talking about. Andy was laughing and that felt good, safe. Home. His hands in my hair and his lips that kissed me every once in while. The voices of my family. Home. I liked this, being with them, even if I was just lying here, but knowing I wasn't alone.

The second time I woke up it was from the pain. My head hurt, my back hurt and I could feel the beginning of cramps in my abdomen. Maybe it really was time to just go to bed and sleep, hopefully in Andy's arms. My legs felt wobbly and unsteady and when Andy picked me up, I gladly wrapped my arms around his neck marvelling that he could carry me so easily.

"Let me go get your medicine, sweetheart – or do you need help getting changed first?"

"No, I think I can manage. You'll come back here?"

"Of course I will. Shall I get you something to eat, too? Something light?"

"Tea would be nice. Make sure Rusty has dinner, will you?"

I could see the amusement in his eyes and the irony didn't escape me.

"I'll make sure your perpetually hungry son will have a proper dinner – just like his mom. What can I get you, sweetheart?"

I sighed, "You know me well enough, choose something."

Once alone, I stood in front of the mirror and looked at myself. Drawn, tired, old were the words that ran through my mind. Old, too old to become a mother and exhausted beyond words. Jack's attack had left few visible injuries, bruises where he had grabbed me by my arms, which would turn dark and ugly in the coming days. The bump on the back of my head was well concealed by my hair. The worst was the look in my eyes. The woman that looked back at me seemed defeated, all of yesterday's sparkle gone. Whatever I had said to Andy and Rusty, I wasn't sure how exactly I would move on from this. I just knew I had to, I wanted to – and that I wanted to do it with Andy.

My marriage to Jack had been over for a long time before the actual divorce, but despite all the bad times, the fights, the arguing, his disappearances, the many times he took my money, the drunken rambles and banging of fists against my door in the middle of the night – he had never once physically attacked me, nor, as far as I knew, anyone else. Never. Of all the things I had expected him to do, physical violence had been on the bottom of the list. No, it had not even been on the list. Jack had never been a violent drunk. Belligerent, noisy, argumentative – yes. Taking whatever was nearby and throwing it against the wall – occasionally. But he had always made sure he didn't injure me or the children. He had been different last night. Maybe it was the presence of a rival or the fact that I had finally cut off all ties to him which had pushed him over the edge. I didn't really want to know.

Sighing, I started taking my clothes off throwing them haphazardly into the direction of my hamper and slipped under the shower. The hot water helped ease the pain in my back, but it made me dizzy. I leaned my forehead against the cool tile and slowly sunk to my knees letting the water run over me.

Suddenly I heard Andy's voice and the door to the shower opened.

"Dammit – couldn't you wait for me? God, Sharon, how long have you been in here?"

I turned my head to look at him, but my neck hurt and the sudden movement made me even more dizzy. The water stopped and Andy squatted down beside me putting a towel over my shoulders.

"Shit, Sharon, you could have fallen or fainted or a million other things. I told you I would come back!"

Andy is such a passionate and intense man and I love that about him. I love how his passion has managed to ignite such a fire in me, too. The shower, the whole bathroom vibrated with his energy. It was a like a physical presence in the room, something I could grasp with my hands. Concern and worry, anger.

"Sorry," I mumbled and let my body fall against him when he put his arms around me. "Dizzy."

"You have a concussion, you've had surgery and you're taking strong painkillers. Of course you're dizzy. Dammit!"

"Stop swearing," I whispered.

The rational part of me knew that Andy was overreacting, that all this swearing was his way of dealing with his helplessness earlier in the day – but the rest of me felt cornered and under attack and his loud voice only made it worse. I couldn't deal with the intensity, not today, not right now. I wanted to move away from the noise, my head, it was just all too much. My heart was beating quickly and I wanted to scream and the noise to stop.

"I will stop swearing when you stop being so goddamn stubborn!"

"Stop shouting," I whispered with more urgency, "please, Andy, my head…"

"Oh Sweetheart," his voice went soft. "Of course you've got a headache. Come on, let's try and get you out of here."

The whole atmosphere in the bathroom changed. Andy was so gentle now, coaxing me to get up, but my legs just gave in.

"Oh dammit, couldn't you have waited for me?" he muttered under his breath but with none of the earlier energy.

Too exhausted to try again I just sighed and closed my eyes. Andy was here now, and he would take care of me.

I woke up when Andy climbed into bed beside me and I smiled gratefully. I had very little if any recollection of how I had gotten here from the shower, but I was here, and Andy was here and that was all that I needed for the moment.

Everything hurt. There wasn't a single part of me that didn't hurt. My head was throbbing, my back hurt from the fall and the bruises, the cramps in my abdomen alone were enough to bring tears to my eyes but the worst was my heart. My heart hurt and I couldn't think of a medicine to make that ache go away.

How could I have misjudged Jack so terribly? Andy was lying next to me whispering soothing words and gently massaging my scalp, no doubt blaming himself for Jack's attack. I would have called him out on his earlier lie, but I hurt too much. Instead, I took his hand and brought it to my lips, kissing his knuckles one by one. I have known him for so long, but he doesn't seem to realise just how well I know him. It was all my own doing anyway, and mine alone. If I hadn't misjudged Jack so badly, I could have let Andy deal with him and stayed in Rusty's room.

And our baby - I lost our baby. I felt a tear run down the side of my face and Andy's soft lips kissing it away. My baby. Our tiny little miracle.

"The painkillers will soon kick in and then you can sleep a little. I promise you, I'll be right here with you, the entire time."

If only painkillers would help against that ache in my heart, and the emptiness in my belly. I turned on my side and Andy curled himself around me. At some point, the throbbing in my head gave way to a dull more manageable pain and, like every night for the past months, Andy's hand found it's way to my stomach. I tried pushing it away – there was nothing there for him to cherish anymore, nothing to protect.

"I'd like to hold you."

I shook my head.

"I know you're hurting, sweetheart, but don't shut me out."

"I'm not shutting you out, Andy … I just … I feel so empty, without the baby, I feel empty, and so useless. Why would you want to hold me?"

"Because I love you, Sharon, and I want to hold you in my arms."

"I lost our baby."

"I know, sweetheart, and I know you're hurting."

Andy moved his hand back to my stomach and then the reality of our situation hit me and engulfed me in despair so deep, I thought I had forgotten how to breathe and when I finally did take a breath it came out as a sob.

"I want our baby back, Andy," I felt the tears running down my face and Andy pulling me closer to him, whispering soothing words and rocking me back and forth until I finally drifted off to a fitful sleep.

My dreams were disjointed.

I dreamt of the past weeks, of our joy at knowing we would become parents, Andy's shining eyes and the happy smile on his face when he looked at the ultrasound and the rapidly beating heart of our child, our very own miracle and how he then turned to me and … everything was in that one look. All his love, and excitement, and devotion. Nobody had ever looked at me like that, nobody, and now … Andy might never again look at me quite like it.

I dreamt of Rusty sitting on a couch with a transparent plastic cover, of Jack creeping up behind him with a knife.

Andy kissing my stomach almost reverently and talking to our baby, his breath tickling me.

Jack fighting with Andy and pushing him off a cliff, his scream reverberating in my ears.

Andy being so keen to look at maternity clothes and insisting I try them on telling me over and over just how beautiful I would look with a baby bump, sneaking into the changing room with me for a quick kiss that turned into a real make-out session until the shopping assistant threw us out.

Jack trying to rip my newborn baby from my arms and following me when I ran away. I ran and ran and I could hear his breathing, he was so close and then he caught me and pinned me down.

"Let go of me, Jack, let go!" I screamed and struggled to break free but he only held me more tightly. I tried to turn and fight him off, struggling with him, but he was just so much stronger.

"Let me go! Let me, Jack!"

"Sharon, sweetheart."

"No, let me go."

"It's me, sweetheart, wake up."

I could feel Jack's breath and the more I fought the more tightly he held me. I kicked him and heard him cry out in pain.

Then the lights came on.

I was still screaming and struggling to get out of Jack's grasp, my heart racing in panic.

"Sharon, wake up, it's me, Andy. Jack isn't here, you are dreaming. Sweetheart, it's me, Andy!"