Hello!

Wow, it's so exciting to say that it's finally update time! I really hope that you enjoy the update. I'm just sorry it's taken so long for you to get it! I know, realistically, that many of you have probably moved on from this. I really am sorry for how long it's taken. But I hope that some of you will stick around until this is finished (and I DO promised to finish it!).

I don't have anything else to say other than PLEASE let me know what you think! :)

-Steph

Chapter 23:

One Month Later….

Jude lounged comfortably on Sadie's couch, pulling out a few random objects from between the seat cushions as she settled in. There was a baby bottle and a pacifier and what, Jude noticed with disgust, appeared to be a well used burping cloth. Her sister's house was in complete disarray. That was what having a new baby did to a household, Jude guessed. She watched Sadie rush around in a fury of actions, moving at top speed from one task to another: feeding the baby, burping the baby, putting sweet baby Grace down for a nap and fighting a losing battle with keeping the house clean. There was simply too much laundry. Too many dishes to keep up with. Jude couldn't help but notice how tired and run down her sister looked.

She couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. She wanted all of that messiness. All of the exhaustion and sleep deprivation. For Chloe, for the chance to see her baby grow up, she would have went through all of it. She knew Tom... No she couldn't think about him. Though it bordered on torture, she'd trained herself in the month he'd been gone not to think about him. It was her only means of keeping herself together, and maintaining any sense of sanity.

Her attention was torn from her unsettling, and unhelpful, train of thoughts as Sadie collapsed on the couch beside her.

"You okay, sis?" Jude asked sympathetically.

"I'm fine. I told Kwest it was okay for him to go back to work, that I could handle all of this myself. And I can. I will." She sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than anyone else.

Jude patted her sister's arm lightly. "You know, you don't have to do it all by yourself. You have a lot of people who will chip in with babysitting or whatever you need. Myself included." It wasn't easy to offer her services, considering her traitorous thoughts about her own desire to be in Sadie's position. She had to think about her sister's welfare and not her own, for once.

One corner of Sadie's mouth raised in a small smile. "Thanks, Jude. I really do appreciate the offer. I just want to try to find my way in this, you know?"

She nodded, understanding completely. She would have felt the same possessiveness towards Chloe and her role as her mother.

Jude's stomach growled, rudely interrupting their conversation. She laughed, rubbing her tummy. "Sorry, I skipped lunch when I was working at the studio. Can I raid the cupboards?"

"Of course. Although I'll warn you that there's not much in there. Probably some saltines and some pickles. Maybe some ice cream."

Jude laughed. "Oddly enough, I've been craving ice cream and pickles like crazy all day. Apparently I have incredible foresight." She unfolded herself from her lazy position on the couch and stood up.

Sadie laughed. "I used to crave that combination ALL the time when I was pregnant. Kwest used to get so grossed out he couldn't even eat in the same room as me. I actually thought he was going to puke once."

Jude smiled at the thought of Kwest's disgust before Sadie's comment stopped her in her tracks. She could feel all the blood drain from her face and she abruptly stopped walking towards the kitchen.

Jude was almost overwhelmed by the cacophony of thoughts resounding in her mind.

It had been a month.

Weird cravings.

No period.

No.

No.

She couldn't be.

She just couldn't be.

"You okay there, Jude?" She heard Sadie's voice behind her. She was glad Sadie couldn't see her face. Her sister would instantly know something was wrong.

She couldn't panic. She couldn't worry. Chances are her suspicion was wrong.

Then the most convincing piece of evidence sent shivers down her spine. She and Tommy hadn't used protection.

Five days late she paced in front of her bathroom.

She needed to just do it. Just take the test. Then she would know for sure.

The problem was not the result, but the emotional games she'd been playing with herself since she'd realized she might be pregnant.

While the majority of her realized what a catastrophic event this would be within the constraints of her and Tommy's current relationships (or lack of relationship), there was a part of her that actually… rejoiced.

She remembered vividly the conversation she'd had with her doctor after Chloe had died. The doctor had explained, in rather more detail than necessary, that her miscarriage had caused damage and that it would be unlikely that she would ever be able to have another baby. If, by some miracle, she was able to get pregnant again, it would be extremely difficult to carry the baby to full term. Given this rather dire diagnosis, there was a part of her, however small, that thought that perhaps this was a miracle. She deserved a miracle after all this, didn't she?

But no, she couldn't be pregnant. What would that even mean for her and Tommy? She wasn't sure how she felt. Sure, she hadn't filed, or even signed, the divorce papers. That didn't mean she could actually see a future with Tommy. Hell, they weren't even speaking.

She needed to just take the test. End the suspense and the torture.

On impulse, before she could change her mind for the 50th time, she grabbed the pregnancy tests (2 for accuracy) and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Five minutes minutes and she would know the truth. 5 minutes, 5 minutes, 5 minutes. That was the mantra she found her self repeating as she peed on that all-important stick.

Twenty minutes later, and she still couldn't bring herself to look at the results of the test. She sat on the floor, leaning her back against the closed bathroom door, rocking slightly.

She knew that the test must be done. The fact that the key to her future was sitting on her bathroom counter was driving her nuts. But she couldn't look. What if it was positive? What if it wasn't positive? She wasn't sure she could deal with either result.

If it was positive, she'd have to tell Tommy. What would he say? What would he do? What would it mean for them?

If it wasn't positive, well…then nothing changed. That seemed equally unsettling.

Powered by some kind of internal strength she wasn't even convinced she possessed, she stood up and propelled herself through the door. Closing her eyes, she reached for one of the sticks and picked it up.

She forced her eyes open slowly. As her eyes adjusted to the light of the bathroom, she couldn't decode what she saw.

A horizontal blue line.

What did that even mean?

Picking up the box, she scanned the instructions quickly, kicking herself for not previously reading how to interpret the results. Finally she reached the paragraph about the results.

A horizontal blue line was…negative.

She was not pregnant.

With a shaky hand, she picked up the second test. This time, her whole soul prayed that the test was wrong.

Another horizontal blue line.

With legs that could barely hold her up, she walked towards the doorway. She walked through the house until tears made it impossible for her to see to move any further. Reaching for the nearest wall, she stumbled blindly towards it. Sliding down towards the ground, she surprised herself with the fervor of her violent sobs.

She couldn't be sure of how long she sat there. Long after the sun went down. Long after her powerful sobs subsided. Long after her brain finished trying to process all the ramifications of her false alarm.

Out of the haze of her jumbled thoughts, there was only one thing that was clear. She was a complete hypocrite. She was the one who had made it clear that she wanted to be divorced from Tommy. Now, the only think she could think clearly was that she wanted Tommy. She loved Tommy. She'd always loved him. He was the only one who fully understood her, even after 4 years apart. He was the only one who would understand her pain, her sorrow. He was the only one she could even think of sharing this revelation with.

For some sadistic reason, it had taken the possibility of a baby to make her see that she couldn't see a future without Tommy. If she would ever have another baby, the only man that could ever be their father was Tommy. The thoughts of her future, of what a baby would have meant…it had shocked her system into finally realizing the truth. Why couldn't she have realized it sooner?

Looking back on the last few months, Jude thought about the sweet things Tommy had done for her, the way he had been there for her in a nonjudgmental, supportive way. She knew she hadn't deserved that. If she hadn't still been in love with him all along, his behaviour over the last few months would have catapulted her back into it.

The reason she'd kept herself away from Tommy for so long seemed like such a distant excuse now. Had she been hurt by what he said to her that night? Of course. He had blamed her for their daughter's death. But, in this one revelatory moment, she realized that she had long forgiven him for that. She wasn't the only one that had lost Chloe. Why wasn't he allowed to grieve too and to be irrational in that blinding grief? She realized, in what felt like an almost physical moment of pain, that that had not been the overriding reason she'd hid herself from him for so long. She'd been scared of being hurt. Of allowing herself to feel love, to feel happy after Chloe's death. To feel anything that resembled any other emotion but pain and suffering. In that fear, in the pain that she caused herself and Tommy, she had done the greatest disservice she could have to her daughter's precious memory.

This groundbreaking, and very late revelation, had her wondering what she should do. Did she have the right to even think about trying to tell him about this? What if it caused him even more pain than she'd already caused him? Did she have any right to tell him that she was wrong about a lot of things, possibly everything?

No, she didn't. That she knew with heartbreaking clarity. She had no rights at all where Tommy was concerned. But that didn't mean that she could give up. Now, knowing with absolute confidence that Tommy was the one she wanted, she couldn't just give up. He hadn't given up on her. For months, he'd tried to show her what she wasn't ready to see. That no matter what they experienced, they would always be stronger and better together than apart. If only they'd both been able to see that 4 years ago, who knows how different things would have been.

Sighing desolately, she knew there were quite a few obstacles ahead of her, if there was even the smallest chance of winning Tommy back.

First, there was a good chance that Tommy had started to move on in the month that they'd been apart. The very act of his leaving was a good indication that he knew he should move on. Also, what if he couldn't forgive her or didn't want to try again? There was an immense amount of damage and hurt in their past.

No. She couldn't let herself dwell in the pain anymore. She'd wasted enough time with that. She couldn't just give up on them. Even if she was fighting against him this time.

With this desperate thought in her mind, she suddenly catapulted herself off the ground, moving quickly towards her computer. Thanks to the internet age, and the on-the-ball web staff at G-Major, she could figure out where Tommy would be on his promotional tour.

With a few clicks of the mouse, she discovered that Tommy would be doing some TV shows in New York for the next three days.

Without giving herself time to change her mind, she navigated her browser to the Air Canada website and quickly perused the direct flights from Toronto to NYC.

After booking her flight to NYC for early the next morning, she checked the itinerary of his New York promotional tour. That night he was scheduled to be on the Tonight Show. She glanced at her watch, realizing that the show was only 15 minutes from now. She switched the TV on, turning it to the correct channel. Then she began to pace.

She was nervous, even about seeing him on TV. What was it going to be like in person? She could feel her stomach flipping over at the thought.

Tommy was going to think she had multiple personality disorder the way she had suddenly changed her mind about them. She just hoped she'd get the chance to explain things before he did something drastic, like kick her out of his sight.

The opening credits and monologue passed in a blur as she waited for Tommy's familiar face to fill the screen. Finally the moment came when Jay Leno announced that Tommy would be his next guest. Her heart pounded in her chest as she suddenly saw Tommy on the screen.

It felt like a reunion of sorts. She had blocked him out of her thoughts and her heart for so long that it felt good to look at him and acknowledge the truth of her feelings. She loved this man, more than anyone or anything on earth. She just hoped it wasn't too late.

After her initial moments of adulation at his very presence on the screen, she took in the small details of his appearance. She noticed that he did not look well. He looked tired, and his face was drawn, as if he hadn't been taking care of his health. Worry flashed through her brain instantly.

She watched him as he completed the interview. It was like he wasn't there. He shuffled his feet periodically, one Tommy's typical signs of boredom. He kept glancing up at the ceiling nervously as if he wasn't sure what he was even doing there. Then the odd time he looked at the camera when answering a question, it was obvious, to her at least, that he was lost. There was no spark in his eyes, no sign that he wanted to be there or loved what he was on the show to discuss. His soul, the part of him that had always risen to meet her own, was dying inside of him.

It was all her fault.

She shut the TV off, unable to watch the rest of the show. The pain she felt was almost palpable. It was as if his hurt, the suffering she had inflicted upon him, was also her hurt. Whatever affected him reflected the same emotions back onto her. They'd always been like that, like 2 sides of the same coin, or bearers of the same soul. Even though she'd tried to break that connection with distance and with destructive indignation, the bond was still intact. For now.

She rushed up to their old bedroom, a bedroom that for the last month she had inhabited without realizing the true reason she was drawn to staying there. It was her last connection to their previous life, and it was a room she was now fully determined to bring him back to.

She quickly threw a few things in a suitcase. After packing her clothes, she walked over to her chest of drawers, opening the top drawer and pulling a stack of papers out. The divorce papers. She shoved them in the suitcase too. One way or another, they would deal with those papers once and for all.

She settled herself in their bed, anxious for the night to slip by. If she got what she wanted, this would be the last night she would ever sleep in this bed alone.

The next day, after an agonizingly long flight, she finally arrived in New York. She'd been a terrible passenger, she knew. She'd barely been able to sit down or relax at all. She had snapped at the flight attendant and she honestly felt bad about it. But she had so much anxiety, she could barely contain it. Now, as she stood in the luxurious lobby of Tommy's hotel, the location of which she'd wrangled out of Kwest, her anxiety was tripled.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

That's the only thought that kept racing through her muddled mind as she paced the lobby.

Was she crazy? Probably. But she had to do this. She recognized this for what it was - her last chance at finding out whether she and Tommy had a shot at being a real couple again. They'd dealt with a lot of obstacles, including many put into motion by herself, but this was their last chance. Their last shot at figuring out if there was really anything worth saving left between them.

She couldn't put it off any longer. She wasn't sure how long she'd spent pacing the lobby, but she was driving herself crazy and few of the hotel workers were looking suspicious.

Finally she walked up to the front desk. "Hi," she said, smiling brightly. "I'm looking for Pete Mitchell's room, please?" Tommy always used the name of Tom Cruise's top gun character as his alias when he stayed in hotels. If she knew Tommy, that would not have changed.

The professional looking blonde woman behind the counter gave her a strange look. For a moment she thought she'd got it wrong, that Tommy had changed his routine. She could feel the panic starting to set in her veins.

Then the strange look turned into a smile. "One moment, Miss," she said, looking at her computer. "Mr. Mitchell is staying in room 704."

A wave of relief settled in her stomach. "Thank you," she managed to spit out before turning towards the elevator. She had to force herself not to run. Now that she was determined to confront Tommy and try to figure things out, she felt that she couldn't get to his room fast enough.

Mere minutes later she stood outside his hotel room door, poised to knock. Before she could depress her hand against the door, a myriad of doubts passed through her mind but she pushed them all away and knocked forcefully.

The wait for him to answer the door seemed endless. Finally she heard footsteps nearing the door. Her heart felt like it might actually take flight and jump out of her chest any moment. After many moments, in which she was pretty sure she didn't breathe at all, he opened the door.

He looked surprised.

Actually that was an incredible understatement. He looked flummoxed. Like he had no idea why she might be standing

outside his door.

On a whim, and before she could stop herself, she mentally threw away the speech she had practiced in her head on the way to New York.

Instead, with no grace or elegance to speak of, she declared, "I want us to try again."