Jimmy couldn't be in the same room with her for very long- it was too intense. Although he forced himself to sample her meals out of politeness, he couldn't eat. He couldn't sleep either, but told himself that was nothing new-he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept soundly. He had to stay away from her. It was his only defense; push her away, and push hard. Don't fall for her, and don't give her any reason to fall for you. He already regretted the shopping trip, but couldn't take it back now.

He slept in one of the spare bedrooms down the hall from her, but it wasn't far enough away. Every night he closed his eyes and tried to picture Angela. It was something that he'd done while in the hospital and found comforting at the time but it was getting harder and harder to see her features so he ended up drinking until he passed out. He'd awake after a few hours and get himself together, taking a cold shower each morning as punishment for dreaming of Reese and not his spouse. She'd always be his wife, he told himself. After what he'd put her through, he didn't deserve happiness with anyone else nor could he bear the thought of another woman suffering because of something he'd done.

Instead he focused all of his attentions on Tommy, who was more than happy to spend time with his father. Jimmy sat in on his lessons and helped him with his homework. He wasn't sure how to be a father, but he tried his best. What he failed to see, however, was that in protecting the boy he'd also made him a prisoner in his own home.

"Daddy?" he asked one day after Leander had gone over a history lesson and they were taking a break.

"Yeah, pal."

"Remember that time we went to shoot the sea gulls?"

Jimmy nodded.

"And when you took me on the Ferris wheel? And the pony ride?"

"Yeah. That was fun, huh?"

The little looked up at him, his brown eyes wide. "Don't you love me anymore?"

Jimmy swallowed hard and thought he would vomit. It was because he loved him that he couldn't be with him. He grabbed the child and held him close to his chest, the top of Tommy's head resting on his heart, his own head lowered.

"Why would you say that buddy?" he croaked.

"Cause you never take me anywhere anymore."

"But Me-mawh and Uncle Richard take you out. How many times did you go to the beach this summer? And the Boardwalk…I know Uncle Richard won you all those toys from the shooting game. We counted 'em, remember?"

"It's not the same!"

Jimmy's heart was racing. He knew it wasn't the same. He was never great at communicating with adults, and he certainly was at a loss with the child. He could only pull Tommy tighter.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Tommy?"

"I miss Mama," he said quietly, as if he were afraid to say it.

He would have traded his life for hers; would have given anything. A part of him even wished she'd gone through with her plan to take the boy to Paris. Maybe they all would have been better off.

"I miss her too."