A/N: I had some free time today and decided to get the next chapter of this up. It was actually already written, but I had to make some slight adjustments before posting. Thanks for reading and leaving me reviews. You guys are amazing!

Chris's phone rang in vibrations, having been set to silent mode, and the device trembled against his leg, begging to be answered. He sniffled and swiped a hand across his nose, shifting as his mind was tugged out of the realm of sleep and back into reality. The smells of sizzling bacon and steaming hot coffee from the next room trickled in, wandering just below his nostrils and taunting him with early morning temptation, until there was no choice but to open his eyes. What he hadn't expected, however, was to find himself on an unfamiliar sofa, the natural daylight and soft streams from the morning sun trickling into the living room to greet him.

He frowned, wondering why he wasn't in his bed at Stephanie's house and why Graham wasn't running in to wake him for their Sunday morning ritual of making chocolate chip pancakes for the whole household. Then the events of the previous night swarmed in, a deluge of fleeting images flashing almost too quickly for him to process. He had taken Melissa out for a nice dinner, bringing her near the bay so they could enjoy a quiet walk, taking the lead as she reached for his hand and leaned her head on his shoulder during their stroll. They had purchased flavored coffee from a street vendor downtown and brought it back to Melissa's place, watching movies on the couch until Chris eventually crashed, right in the midst of an action flick.

His intentions had been to return home the night before, but an all-encompassing sleep got the best of him, and Chris was rising in a flash, eyes scanning the unfamiliar room frantically as he searched for his shoes, which he had tugged off at Melissa's behest when they got to her home. She didn't like people walking around on her carpet and tracking mud and dirt in with their shoes. Chris dropped to his knees, patting the floor with his hands and ducking down to check underneath tables and chairs for his missing footwear, glancing up only when a throat cleared near the room's entrance. There was questioning in Melissa's eyes, but that didn't keep the smirk off of her face as she watched him with loosely folded arms and perched on the edge of the sofa arm.

"Looking for something?" she asked, and Chris got the distinct feeling she knew exactly what he was in search of.

"Yeah," he scratched the back of his neck, rising to his knees, "actually, I need my shoes. I have to go."

"Already?" she pouted, jerking her thumb in the direction of the kitchen. "But I'm making us breakfast, and I'd hate to see all of that extra food go to waste. I made your favorite."

"How do you know what my favorite is?" Chris asked, his tone harsher than he meant for it to be. A pang of hurt washed over Melissa's face, drifting away like the passage of a wind gust. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just curious."

"Well, you said the other day that you love bacon and eggs in the morning, something about your semi-caveman diet that you're trying out, so I thought I would make that for you," Melissa said, running her hands over her thighs, where they peeked out from beneath her brief, cotton robe. "Besides, it's not like we see each other very often, so you can stay for one meal, can't you? I barely ever get time with you, and it was so much fun having you with me last night. I'm not..." she stopped, cheeks tinted pink as she bit her bottom lip. Chris could recognize that look anywhere. She was smitten with him. "I'm not ready for this to be over. Please stay."

Chris swallowed down a sigh, wishing he could find his shoes and walk straight out the door to be with his son, but looking at Melissa, who was still biting her lip as she waited for the answer that would either make or break her, he knew he couldn't. He couldn't walk out on her after the night they had together, which he could admit had been a swell time. Nothing spectacular, but Melissa was easy to have a good time with, and he couldn't risk making her feel bad by leaving without at least testing out the food she had prepared. She was putting in a real effort, and Chris was going to do the same, because it meant something to her. And it meant something to him, too; exactly what it meant, he wasn't certain of.

Swiping a hand over his forehead, he replied, "I can stay for breakfast, but I have to get back to my son soon. Are you almost finished cooking?"

"Just about," she grinned, rising from the couch. "All I was waiting on was the toast, but I'm sure it's popped by now. If you need the bathroom, it's down the hall and to the left," she said. "You're welcome to use it before you come to the kitchen."

"Thanks, and, uh, where exactly are my shoes?"

"Oh," she laughed, "I put them inside the closet, you know, where shoes belong."

"They would belong in there, if I lived here," he corrected. There was a side of Melissa's personality, a glimpse into her true self, that led Chris to believe she had a possessive side. The apartment was a spot she called home, though, and it was natural to have a set idea of how it should be cared for, so he couldn't fault her for that. At worst she was controlling, and, at best, a neat freak who couldn't stand even a simple pair of shoes being slightly out of place.

"You're not mad, are you?" she asked, brow furrowed. In all of his distraction, he hadn't noticed she was wearing a pair of oval eyeglasses until just then, but they suited her well. She looked smart, sexier, and like a slightly older version of herself. "You're my guest and I want you to be comfortable when you're here."

"No, I am. I was only teasing you," Chris said. He held his cell phone up in his right hand and pointed to it with his left. "I'm going to call home and at least let my son know I'm okay and that I'll be back soon, and then I'll be right in."

"So where do you live?" Melissa asked, biting the edge of her thumbnail and moving in toward him. She threw a seductive wiggle in her walk, releasing her nail when she reached Chris and slipping her hands into his back pockets. She pressed the left side of her face against his right chest, and Chris's natural reaction was to wrap his arms around her body, so he did, kissing the top of her head. "You're too much of a mystery to me." She lifted her head, pressing a kiss to the center of his neck, right where his Adam's apple was. "I want to know things about you, the same way you know stuff about me."

"I'm not far from here," Chris said. "It's a house on some land, about thirty minutes away. Real nice place."

"So it's just you and your son there?"

His phone buzzed again, screen lighting up with the arrival of a new call, and he held his index finger up. "I'm sorry to cut you off, but I have to take this. I'll meet you in the kitchen in just a little bit."

"Okay," she agreed, puckering her lips. Since the evening before, she had become a lot more touchy with Chris, and he couldn't exactly complain when a girl that beautiful wanted nothing more than his lips on hers. He gave in, pressing a gentle kiss to her mouth, and finding her left cheek afterward, which he dotted with another soft kiss. She smiled, giving him a small wave and leaving the room while he pressed the answer button with his thumb, accepting the incoming call.

"Hello?" he answered, returning to the couch and plopping down on the cushions, still warm from his body heat.

"Chris?" Stephanie.

"Hey, Steph, I am so sorry about this."

"Don't worry about me; it's Graham I'm concerned about. He..." she began speaking to someone in the background, "Can you go sit at the table and wait for me, sweetie? I'll be right there," she said, and Chris knew she was talking to Graham. Her voice always softened with a hint of special tenderness that he never heard her use for anyone besides Graham and Caylie. After some slight shuffling, her voice came through loud and clear. "Uh, you're still there, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here. What's up?"

"I don't know if you're aware, but Graham has some separation anxiety whenever you're away. He went in your room this morning and you weren't there. He was calm at first," Stephanie continued, "but when he realized you weren't anywhere in the house, he was really hurt."

"I know, and I feel like a complete jackass. I just came over to Melissa's, um, I mean, I've been at a friend's house, and I never meant to fall asleep here last night, but I did, so I'm going to have some breakfast and then hurry back to you guys," Chris said. He couldn't believe he had actually slipped and mentioned Melissa's name to Stephanie. His own son didn't even have a clue he was seeing Melissa, and now Stephanie knew, whether she acknowledged his slip-up or not. He had no doubt she was hanging on every word he said. All he could think to do was trudge on, pretending as if he hadn't just outed his side relationship. "I'll be back soon, okay?"

"No, Chris," she sighed, lowering her voice, "I don't think you understand. Graham is really, really upset."

That caught his ear, sending a shiver up his spine. "How do you mean?"

"When you go on planned errands or leave the house for work, he knows where you are and what time you're coming back so it's okay, but he wasn't expecting you to not be here this morning and, frankly, I wasn't either. I tried to distract him by filling in for you and making chocolate chip pancakes with him, but he wasn't even able to do it," she admitted.

"Why not?"

"There's no other way for me to say this, so I'll just come out with it: you need to get here fast," Stephanie said, all traces of humor erased, lost in the memories of the day before. Her voice had grown so solemn, she sounded almost completely unlike her normal self. "I cradled him on the couch this morning while he was crying for you, and I only got him to calm down a few short minutes ago, which was when I started trying to call you. I know how much you love Graham, and that's why I'm telling you he needs you right this second. It can't wait any longer."

"Oh jeez, I'm coming. I feel terrible. I'm leaving right now," Chris said.

He closed out the phone call and jogged to the living room closet, pulling his shoes off of the floor and shutting the door. He tugged the shoes on and sloppily tied the strings, grabbing his phone and jacket so he could make his exit. Melissa looked up from her plate, where she sat chewing casually on a piece of bacon when he entered the kitchen, but her smile faded when she saw that he was leaving. She tossed the bacon down, dusting her hands off on one another and rising from her chair.

"What's going on?"

"I have to go," Chris said. He slipped a hand around to the back of her head and pulled her toward him, kissing her forehead and revisiting her lips, but only for a brief couple of seconds. "My kid needs me, and he comes first. I'll call you when I get things squared away and we can see about having dinner later tonight, okay?"

"Okay, but what's wrong?" she asked, forehead creasing with worry lines. "He's okay, isn't he?"

"He freaked out when he found out I wasn't home this morning. He does that sometimes, probably because we've only ever really had each other in life, ever since he lost his mom years ago. I had a great time with you last night, and I'll talk to you soon, but I've got to go to him right now," Chris said, walking toward the door and unlocking it. He pulled it open, leaving Melissa with a final thought. "I'll let you know how it goes."

Chris's foot had been installed with a lead chip, the added weight pressing onto the gas pedal as he sped back to Stephanie's house, unable to process anything except that he had left behind the one person in the world who always counted on him. He could handle not doing his best with Melissa, or even slipping up a bit on his workload in the office, but he was unwilling to fail at the job of being a parent to Graham. The hum of his engine and roar of the heater turned up on high were the sounds that led him home, since switching on the radio hadn't even occurred to him. When he pulled into Stephanie's driveway, he barely had a chance to park and turn the car off before he gathered his keys and ran to the front door, ringing the doorbell multiple times.

The click of the locks being turned elicited a sigh of relief from deep in his throat, since he was one step closer to being reunited with his son. He should have known going to Melissa's was a bad idea and that he would end up falling asleep over there, but there were no do-overs. All he could offer was his sincerest apologies and hope that would be enough reassurance for Graham. The door opened and Stephanie stood on the other side, holding Caylie and patting her back. Chris smiled weakly and she returned it with a smile equally as shaky, waving him inside and motioning toward the couch, where Graham was resting underneath a heavy blanket, his head propped on a pillow.

He must have heard the door open, but he wouldn't even look in Chris's direction, which hurt more than he could put into words. Chris could hardly bear the thought of his son being upset with him. He removed his coat while Stephanie closed the front door, hanging it on the coat rack and walking over to the couch, kneeling down beside Graham, whose eyes were open and blank as he stared straight ahead. Chris reached up for his hair and ran a hand over it, giving Graham a tentative kiss on the cheek. "Hey, buddy. How are you doing?"

"Good," Graham said, just above a whisper. Chris glanced behind himself, expecting to see Stephanie standing there and lending a watchful eye, but she had disappeared into another room with Caylie. Chris slipped his hand over Graham's, trying his best to be patient and allow him to speak only when he was ready. When at least three minutes slipped by without conversation, Chris took the initiative.

"I'm sorry you woke up and I wasn't here to be with you," Chris apologized, running his fingertips over Graham's hand in smooth circles. "I went to a friend's house and fell asleep on the couch, and by the time I opened my eyes, it was already morning. I never would have left you on purpose. You're the most important person in my life, and you always will be, Graham."

"Oh."

"Is that all you have to say?" Chris asked. Graham shrugged, and Chris licked his lips, giving pause as he chose his next words carefully, trying to say only what he thought might remedy the situation. If Graham wasn't talking voluntarily, the easiest way he could pull him into conversation would be to ask open-ended questions that would force him to provide an answer. "I talked to Stephanie on the phone. She said you were pretty upset this morning when you realized I was gone. Were you only upset because I was gone, or was something else bothering you?"

"I dunno."

"I need you to talk to me, kiddo."

"You left, Daddy!" Graham shouted, sitting up suddenly and pointing an accusatory finger. Tears welled in his eyes and his chest puffed in frustration with each exhale. "You said before that you wouldn't leave me by myself without telling me. You said we would always stay together, and then you left, and that's not fair."

Graham crossed his arms, frowning at the floor, and Chris finally began to get a clear picture of what his son was feeling. It made sense, having lost his mother at such a young age, that he would have issues with being left behind, and it had been careless of Chris to not explain to Graham that he might be late returning home. He had created a bad situation where there didn't need to be one, and as desperate as Chris was to make it up to Graham, he didn't know whether that was possible. "I know I said I wouldn't leave, and I meant that."

"But you left anyways, because you don't keep promises, Dad. You lied," Graham said. He swiped at the tears falling onto his cheek and buried his head in the pillow he had been lying on, whimpering into the material and leaving Chris heartbroken in the process. He did the only thing he could and rubbed Graham's back until he calmed enough to only let out a hiccup or two every so often, the end result of his sobs.

"I can't say enough how sorry I am," Chris started. "I'm a parent, but we make mistakes too, and I never meant to break my promises to you, but it happened, and I can't go back. I just have to be more careful in the future, but I wouldn't leave you behind on purpose, and you should know that. You're my everything, and I never would have made it as far as I have in life without you. What can I do to make this up to you?"

"Not leave anymore," Graham mumbled into the pillow. He was talking, and that was a start in the right direction.

"I won't leave you if I can help it, but whenever I do have to go somewhere without you, I'll make sure you know about it ahead of time. I can't tell you how horrible I feel Graham. I would never make you feel bad on purpose," he said. "I love you." Graham lifted his head, eyes rimmed red and cheeks tear-stained and flushed. He was fragile, and Chris didn't want to break him any more than their previous tribulations already had. He leaned in, gathering Graham in his arms and squeezing tight. When Graham laughed, trembling against Chris's body, he nearly cried tears of his own from the sheer relief of it all. He had his son back. "What do you say you and I go into the kitchen and make our killer chocolate chip pancakes, bud? Do we have a deal?"

"Deal!" Graham pulled out of their embrace and hopped onto his feet. "Last one to the kitchen is a rotten egg!" he declared, tearing out of the room, with Chris hot on his heels.

By the time Monday morning rolled around, Chris was eager to leave the weekend behind, letting it be only a thing of the past as he strived to do better in life as a whole. He had been blessed with the gift of sending Graham off to school happy that morning, and it made his day to at least know his son was back to his normal, happy self. Chris drummed his fingertips along the sill of Stephanie's car window, nodding his head along with the song playing and generally getting lost in his own little world. His brows collapsed into a frown when the tune lowered, and he checked the radio, thinking it was some sort of sound malfunction, until he noticed Stephanie was turning the volume dial with her hand.

"You don't like that song?" he asked.

"Eh, I don't know, it's all right."

"Was I being annoying?"

"No, you weren't," she replied, maintaining an even speed on the highway. She cleared her throat, a frequent habit Chris had picked up on in past times. She wanted to talk, but whether the subject matter was good or bad would remain a mystery until they delved into it. "How was Graham this morning? I didn't get a chance to really talk to him before he left for school with Vivian."

"He was good. Pretty much back to his old self."

"Good."

"Yeah," Chris nodded, releasing air between puckered lips. He patted his thighs to a beat that didn't exist and looked out the window, waiting for Stephanie to make whatever point she was working herself up to. Instead of the slow build-up he expected, she came out full force and all at once.

She blurted, "Who's Melissa?"

"Huh?" Chris asked. He wasn't attempting to sneak his way out of admitting he was seeing someone, but, rather, was genuinely shocked by her question. He had thought he did a decent job of covering up the Melissa issue, whatever issue that was, but he should have known Stephanie would bring it up at some point. She wasn't the sort of person to keep quiet about her concerns, but that was one of the things he loved about her.

"I'm just curious," she said, staring straight ahead at the road. She was trying to be impassive, but the blanching of her knuckles as she squeezed the steering wheel told a different tale. Melissa was stirring up feelings inside of her that weren't pleasant, and Chris wasn't sure how he should feel about that. "When we were on the phone and Graham was upset, you said you went over to Melissa's house for that whole night you were gone, which, whatever, I mean, it's your business, and you don't have to tell me anything, but I'm just curious about who she is. You've never mentioned any girls besides Olivia, so I wasn't expecting you to have someone else on the side who you're interested in."

"She's just a girl," Chris said, struggling against a smile threatening to blossom on his face. Stephanie was trying her damnedest to come off as unaffected by the whole thing, but it was getting to her, and he wanted to know why. Was she angry from a friend standpoint because she wanted him to open up to her, or was she angry because another woman in the mix made her, dare he say, jealous? "What do you want to know?"

"I don't know. You don't have to tell me when you go anywhere, because it's not my right to know or anything, but it would have been nice if you could have given me a heads-up that you were leaving on Saturday night. I didn't even know you were gone until Graham went looking for you the next morning, and that was when I checked my text messages from the night before and saw that you had sent me one saying you were at a friend's house," she said. "Couldn't you have just come downstairs and told me yourself that you were leaving before you did it so that I wouldn't have had to worry about you?"

"I should have, and I'm sorry I didn't, but you were with Ross that night, and I didn't want to interrupt you guys."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't want to interrupt you and Melissa, whoever she is."

"She's just a girl," he repeated.

"Yeah, you already said that," Stephanie remarked, in a voice so unlike herself that he almost did a double-take.

Chris glanced over, nearly ready to run for cover before she blew, but he saw a single emotion written all over her face: jealousy. Melissa was setting something off inside of her, but if Stephanie was feeling that way about a woman he had only gone to see casually, that must have been because...she shared his feelings. But no, that didn't make sense, nor did it add up. If Stephanie liked him that way, then she wouldn't have encouraged him to go after Olivia the way she had. There must have been some other explanation, and he was going to dig it up one way or the other, like a buried treasure hidden in the sand.

"You're not mad at me, are you?"

"No," Stephanie said, seeming to have remembered herself, as she patted her hair down with one hand, "no, I'm not mad at all. I have no reason to be; I was just asking a question. You've never mentioned anyone else, and all the sudden, there's this random girl you're going to see, not that it matters, because, I mean, whatever, you can see whoever you want to see. It's none of my business, and it's not for me to worry about, and I wouldn't want to butt in on the details of your private life anyway, so, yeah, whatever."

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Are you finished, or would you like to ramble a little more?"

"I'm not rambling."

"You seem mad at me, and I wouldn't want you to be, if that's the case. We're supposed to be friends, and I don't want that to change," Chris said.

"Of course not," she said. "We'll always be friends."

"Good, that's what I like to hear."

"So, um...are you not going to tell me who she is?"

"Steph," he laughed, swiping a hand over his face, "I already did. She's just a girl I've been hanging out with, just like how you hang with Ross. That's all there is to it. It's not like I'll be rushing to the altar anytime soon, but I have fun with her."

"So she's your girlfriend, then?"

"Not officially, but we're headed that way. We actually haven't discussed that in detail, as funny as it may sound," Chris said, and then he added the kicker, for nothing else except to see what reaction he would get. "We're not overly romantic, but we kiss sometimes, so there's that."

"Hm," Stephanie said, more of a brisk grunt than anything else.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. I guess I was just wondering," he shrugged. Stephanie's responses and body language rolled around in his mind, nitpicking and analyzing every last bit of her reaction as he tried to come up with a clear picture of what was happening. His instincts told him she was envious of his relationship with another woman and that he should pursue her, but his mind talked him out of it, telling him he was only reading into her reaction the things he had wanted to see. Had he not wished for Stephanie to reciprocate his desire for a romantic relationship, he wouldn't have suspected she did. People saw only what they wanted to see.

They arrived at the office no more than 10 minutes later, and Stephanie grabbed her briefcase from the backseat, as she always did. On a usual day, they walked into the lobby together and parted at the elevators, but Stephanie hung back, walking much slower than normal but trying to make it seem as if she had something important to do. Every time he checked on her, she was playing aimlessly with her cell phone, or biting her nails. She was avoiding him, in essence, but he couldn't figure out what her exact reasoning was, and with only a few minutes left to clock in before he would be considered late for his work shift, he didn't have much time to continue with his guessing game.

Chris came to a stop at the door that led into the multi-desk office he was a part of. "All right, this is me. I'll see you at lunch. Have a great morning."

"Thanks, you too," she said. He turned back to look at Stephanie before entering the door, and she pointed across the lobby. "I'm going to talk to Olivia for a bit before I go up."

"Cool," Chris nodded, smiling widely before he disappeared inside the door.

His last sight of Stephanie seared itself into his brain: hunched posture, rampant and out of character irritability, and stunted smile. The only time he had seen her so unhappy since he had arrived in Connecticut was a single instance during his first few weeks with her, when she suspected he was going to move out of her house without sufficient time to get back on his feet. She wasn't happy, and he was the cause. Rather, Melissa was the cause. Chris had accomplished the seemingly impossible, and while it didn't make his chest swell with pride to know Stephanie was possibly hurting, it did give him a slight ego boost.

He didn't know how, and he didn't know why, but he had made Stephanie McMahon jealous.