As the months wore on, Greg and I became much closer. We made it a point to spend as much time with Rosie as we could together, whether it be at the park or just for dinner. He continually surprised me with his romantic gestures, even inviting me to spend time with him at the hospital while Rosie was in school. It meant so much to me that in just a few months, Greg had turned from hard hearted bachelor, to a kind and caring father figure.

Now it was the beginning of May. My store was prospering from the sudden rage for flowered rompers, thanks to my collection. Rosie was rapping up school and she was bubbly, happier than ever.

One afternoon, I was sitting on a bench in the front of the hospital with Rosie, waiting for Greg. She had rested her head on my lap and closed her eyes, attempting a short nap. As she did this I was reading a book. We had been waiting twenty minutes, ten minutes more than I had expected.

"Marilyn?" a man's voice entered my atmosphere.

I put down my book. Oh my God.

"It's me," he continued. "Charlie."

I stared at him. He was wearing a suit, a pair of black framed glasses, and was carrying a brown leather suitcase, "Hi, Charlie."

"How have you been?" Charlie came closer, making me uncomfortable. "It's been what, ten years?"

Twelve, actually. "It has been a long time," I smiled weakly.

"Who might this be?" he gestured to Rosie.

I bit my lip, "This is my daughter, Rosie."

Charlie kept a short distance between himself and Rosie, "She's so cute."

"What are you doing here?" I frowned.

He backed up again, "I'm meeting with my client. They're suing a doctor here."

"So you are a lawyer," I laughed. "That's great."

"And what are you doing here? Do you have a friend here or…" he stopped before saying family.

I brushed back Rosie's hair, "My boyfriend is a doctor here."

Charily scoffed, "I hope it's not," he looked down at the paper in his hand. "Dr. Gregory House." He laughed like it was the funniest joke ever told.

I bit my lip, "Poor guy."

"Were you married before?" he seemed to be confused about the fact I had a kid and a boyfriend instead of a husband considering the ring I rubbed in his face in high school.

I shook my head, "No, stuff just kind of happened."

"Well maybe we could talk," he handed me what seemed to be his business card. "Catch up."

"Marilyn…" Greg came up from behind.

I looked up to see him beside the bench, "Hi, Greg."

"What're you doing with this…" he tried to find the right words.

"You know each other?" Charlie gaped.

I closed my mouth, waiting for Greg's snappy retort.

"Know each other? We've been dating for about four months," it wasn't as snappy as I thought.

Rosie shot up, "Daddy!"

"Hey, kid."

Charlie couldn't believe his ears, "You're dating him? And she is-"

"Our daughter," Greg stated with a smirk.

"Greg," I rubbed my forehead. "You've met Charlie."

He nodded, "Prosecution, I know him."

"My boyfriend from high school."

For a moment, which I had rarely seen from him, Greg was at a loss for words and his face drained of color, "That Charlie?"

"That Charlie," I stood up, helping Rosie hop off the bench. "It was nice talking to you, but we have to go."

Charlie nodded, "Sure."

As we walked away, Greg found his fire, "I'll see you in court."

I pulled him away, "What have you done, Greg?"

"Not in front of Rosie, Marilyn," he smiled.

Rosie jumped forward and grabbed his hand, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, dear," I bit the inside of my cheek.

We went up to my car and drove. I was silent while Rosie prodded at her father. When we pulled up to the house, Rosie jumped out and ran across the street. "Rosie!" I closed my eyes, remembering the countless times she had done this. "What have you gotten yourself into?"

Greg sighed, "Okay, I'm going to tell you this once. I get sued an awful lot."

I frowned, "Well, I knew you were unconventional."

"I find it hard to believe that you find it hard to believe that a lot of people don't like me," he shrugged.

I shook my head and looked in my lap, "I'm sorry, but I'm really…distraught from Charlie."

"It's not every day you run into the person you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with," he continued.

"But I need you to be nice to him."

"What? Why?"

I looked down, "I don't want him to think he's better than you."

Greg chuckled for a moment and touched my hand which was still grasping the clutch, "That's a nice thing to hear."

"I bet you hear it all the time," I felt his fingers turn over my hand, caressing my palm.

He leaned closer to me, "But not from a girl."

I giggled, "It's high school all over again."

Greg shook his head, "It's not like high school, Marilyn."

"You're…" I paused. "You're right. It's not."

I had him.

"Let me make it up to you," he drawled. "Dinner tomorrow night. I'll pick you up at seven."

I heard the door bell ring at 7:10. I opened the front door and growled playfully, "You're late."

"You look good in yellow," Greg held out his hand for mine.

I bit my lip, "I'm wearing green."

"I'm trying not to lie," he smiled. "Now, come on, I have reservations and I don't want you to make me late."

I scoffed as he led me down the path to his motorcycle which I wasn't properly dressed for riding, "You couldn't bring the car?"

"Tonight is special, Marilyn. I promised," he nodded, almost reassuringly.

Jumping onto the bike, I wrapped my arms around his waist and smelled his jacket, "Cologne?" My head shot up, "You're wearing cologne?"

Greg shook his head, handing me his helmet, "Will you shut up for a little bit?"

I pursed my lips, shutting myself up. He drove down the road, and a good twenty minutes later, we still weren't at our destination. We ended up at a café far away from my home, "Greg, this is not-"

"Hush!" he hopped off and poked a finger at the helmet.

"Come on, can you just tell me?" I slipped it off. "What are you trying to do?"

He crossed his arms, "Can't I do something nice for my girlfriend?"

"Yeah, but…" I went through the door. "This looks oddly familiar."

The café was small, but crowded. It was simple, red table clothes and matching napkins. "Does it? I was worried you wouldn't remember."

Then it hit me. "This is not… No way." I almost laughed. "This is absolutely impossible.

"Aren't you glad they got rid of that trashy night club where they let people conceive children in the bathrooms?" Greg went up to the host. "Reservation for House."

I glanced around the room. It was so different, yet so much the same. I met Greg here, here where we had stared each other down and then had that oh-so-exciting one night stand. And it was sort of funny to see this place again.

We sat down at a small table located in front of a tall window. I opened the menu, biting my lip, "So why are you so into this whole romantic thing suddenly?"

"This isn't romantic," he shook his head.

"Okay, fine," I smiled. "Fine, then."

Greg leaned his elbows on the table and looked up at me with a cutesy grin. I tried to not look up from my menu, "What?"

His eyes grew wider and he sat back up. He wasn't looking at me anymore, but past my shoulder. I glanced back to see nothing in particular he could be staring at.

"Greg…" I put down the menu. Greg's face was frozen in this anguished, sorrowful gaze. "Greg!" I shook his arm.

He looked back at me, "Give me a minute." He rose from the table and limped off. I was sort of surprised by his sudden exit, but I really didn't think much of it.

That's when it all started.

So here we go, the home stretch.