Billy glanced over at her before he began to read, his heart half hoping each time he stared into her eyes that he'd see the beautiful green orbs open and staring back at him.

Seeing them still closed, he sighed and looked down at the page.

Dear Billy,

I don't know why I'm writing this, especially since I never even mailed the last letter. In some strange way, I think this makes me feel closer to you..as if somehow this is the only way I can connect with you. It seems stupid and empty, but it's all I have…or at least it was.

I know I said that I didn't leave Genoa City out of jealousy. I know I said that I left because I wanted you to be happy and that was true, but maybe there was more to it than that. Maybe there was more to it than even I knew. I always knew we had a connection, Billy. We always said that, but now I know we're connected in a way I never even imagined.

I'm pregnant, Billy…I'm going to have your baby. Never in a million years is this something I ever would have expected. I didn't even believe the doctor when he told me. I thought it was some sort mix up with the test, but it isn't. They checked and rechecked. I'm definitely pregnant.

Billy lowered the letter to the side of the bed, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes moved from the words on the page to her still frame in the bed. He couldn't help but wonder how things would have been different had the letter actually reached him. Could he have found her? Could he have been there? Would he have been able to convince her how much he loved her and how much he wanted to build this life with her? His eyes closed for a moment as he inhaled deeply. All the questions in the world didn't change the facts. That time was gone forever now. He looked back down at the letter and continued to read.

When I left town I know you were rebuilding your life with Victoria and I would never want to mess that up. Honestly, I'm not even sure I'll ever even send you this, but if I do it's not because I expect you to come back to me—it will be so that you can be a part of your child's life…if that's what you want.

I want you to know that I don't think of this as a mistake. Mistakes are things that you regret and I don't regret this…not for a second. This child is a miracle. He or she will be the best part of both of us and I will make sure they know that they were born out of something real and something good.

The sound of the tear hitting the paper startled him and he brought his hand up to wipe his face before he quickly reached for his shirt to blot the page, the smearing of ink already becoming a problem. The idea of missing any of her words was impossible to imagine. These letters were the only glimpse he'd had into the years they'd been apart. Sure, she'd told him stories and he'd heard things from Avery, but these letters were personal. They were real.

Billy leaned in closer to her, taking her hand in his and stroking her fingertips gently. "It wasn't a mistake," he whispered, clearing his throat as his voice trembled. "Our baby girl wasn't a mistake. She brought you back to me…she brought us back together. She made us a family. She's the best part of both of us and I'll never be able to thank you for giving her to me."

He watched her face, willing her eyes to open, praying silently for anything, the flutter of an eyelash, the twitch of a lip. His heart fell when she lay still. The letter trembled in his hand as his eyes refocused on the words on the page.

I've spent a lot of time trying to imagine what it would be like to tell you this news if circumstances were different—if we could be together, if we had met at a different time, in a different way. I've wondered what it would have been like for this news to be celebrated, for this baby to have been welcomed into a family with love and acceptance.

Billy sat the letter down, leaning back in the chair for a moment. She'd been going through this all alone. She'd been pregnant and scared and hopeless and he'd had no idea and, to make it worse, his family was at the root of all of it. The high and mighty Abbotts that believed they had some sort of moral high ground had driven her out of town just as if they'd chased her out with pitchforks. They'd cost him not only the woman he loved but his child too and now-

He ran his hands over his face. He couldn't stand to think about everything he stood to lose. She should be awake by now. She should be talking to him, looking at him, holding his hands as he explained away the fears and doubts these letters expressed. More than anything in the world he wanted to promise her that he did celebrate their daughter, that she was accepted and loved into the family, that the circumstances didn't need to be different….that everything was perfect right now…just as it was.

But she had to wake up to do that. He stared back down at the letter, his eyes pouring over the last few lines of script.

You're a good man, Billy and you're a good father. I know you would be a good father to our child too. I wish you could be here for this. I wish that for all of us. Our child will know about you…I'll tell them…but only the good things.

Love always,

Phyllis

He clutched the letter to his chest as he closed his eyes tight and leaned over her body. Gently he wrapped his arms around her, letting his head fall against her chest. The slow rise and fall of her breaths provided some strange sense of comfort and the sound of heart beating in her chest a reminder that she was still there…just waiting. "Please, Phyllis," he whispered, "Please wake up."