WOWOWOWOWOWOWOOW, I'm the luckiest girl in the world. Thank you for your kindness and love! THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS!

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Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently, I'm writing more in depth about Emmett and Rosalie's visit to Vera's. I'm writing some things in Robert's POV, some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie. I'm also exploring a scene when Rosalie told Camille she was pregnant and what she thought, and another scene of Emmett and Rosalie's relationship foundation and the first thing she really learns about his past and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!

Nothing Can Change This Love - Sam Cooke

Ooh, make me weep

You can make me cry

See me comin'

And you can pass me by

But honey, nothin',

Nothin' can ever change this love

I have for you

Oh, you're the apple of my eye

You're cherrie pie

And oh, you're, you're cake and ice cream

Oh, you're sugar and spice

And everything nice

You're the girl of my, my, my, my dreams

If you wanted to leave me

And roam

When you get back

I'd just say

Welcome home,

'Cause honey, nothin'

Nothin', nothin' can ever change this

Love I have for you

Emmett: By Any Other Name

Present

"No, it didn't happen to me the way it happened to her. It didn't happen in my body, and I can't imagine what that was like. I can't and it's because I am not half as strong as she is, but… but Rosalie's wrong for isolating herself and pretending she's dealt with this all by herself. It happened to me too. It happened to me in my soul and… It just… It happened to me too." I bounced my knees nervously.

"It did." Vera agreed. "Culturally, we don't acknowledge the grief of men in pregnancy loss, and I can't empathize with you about how isolating your experience must be, to be told to be strong and just take care of your wife without even acknowledging your own grief."

Even though she didn't really say anything revolutionary, something about her just acknowledging that I was allowed to be in as much pain as I had been in was soothing.

Rosalie had gone on a walk to clear her head shortly after our conversation had ended with us both yelling at each other until she had enough and iced over. We'd been yelling once again about me trying to take care of her instead of suffer with her, when in actuality that was exactly what was happening…

I was suffering.

We didn't really make any headway in our argument, but Rosalie had hit a wall and was virtually unresponsive, just nodding every so often with glassy eyes like she did when she wasn't listening and was far away.

As soon as she returned from her walk, she went upstairs to shower.

I knew something was going on by the look in her eyes. We hadn't talked about anything too harmful or deep today, but I knew something had set her off. She was spiraling. Rosalie shouldn't be alone when she was like this, but Vera insisted I stay behind and talk with her.

It was off-putting and I couldn't relax. I just worried about Rosalie.

"Tell me about her, your daughter. What did you imagine for her?" Vera asked a question I'd never been asked and it took me by surprise.

I paused for a long moment, nervous enough that the cat got my tongue. I had of course thought about it. But, I had to open the vault of memories I'd long suppressed.

"Her name was going to be Colette." I swallowed after a long while. "It's French. But, we'd call her Coco informally. And, that's Spanish. It seemed perfect. Rosalie's mother's name starts with a C, so does my mom's. It was just… perfect."

"That's a beautiful name." Vera gave me a soft smile.

"Thank you." I mumbled. "Rosalie and I immediately agreed on it. It was one of the first one's we even thought of."

"Tell me more about Colette." She said, making a point to use her name.

"My father - well, my dad, Peter insisted that she had Rosalie's nose just from the ultrasound photo." I chuckled darkly.

The lightness got caught in my throat as I cracked open the door to thoughts I'd hidden away.

"Tell me who Colette was going to be. What kind of life did you hope for her?"

"I…" I cleared my throat, and furrowed my brow, not sure how to proceed.

Hearing her name again was all at once painful and soothing.

"Rosalie and I talked about moving sometimes…" I recalled. "We talked about raising her outside of the city so she wouldn't be hounded like Rosalie was - so she could grow up without cameras in her face and all these expectations - but… but, we never got around to really deciding where we'd want to go or if we were really serious."

Vera just nodded.

"But… But Rosalie and I also wanted her around family and they're all in the city." I cleared my throat to try and stop the painful burning of the past being verbalized.

"My sister's in New York and has a couple of kids, and… and now Rose's step brother's starting a family and… it'd just be nice to have her grow up surrounded by people that would love her… It'd be good for her to have lots of cousins to play with too. I never got to do that, and neither did Rosalie… So we both always wanted a big family for our daughter to be raised in."

"What kind of person would Colette be?" Vera asked.

"Well…" I paused, just to make it look like I wasn't absolutely sure, even though I was. "I hoped she'd be kind and have an empathetic heart, but I also hoped she'd fight like hell to get what she wanted. That part, she'd get a double dose of. Rosalie and I both are… are very tenacious so it'd only make sense." I answered, feeling the corner of my mouth lift irrationally.

"Yes, very." Vera agreed with a little smile and a laugh.

"I thought she'd have pretty blonde hair like Rosalie, and be just as beautiful…" I said evenly. "If that's even humanly possible. And, she'd have a dazzling smile… and we'd make sure she'd do that often… smile, I mean."

"She had a thousand dresses before she… but I swear every time I was on my way home from work I'd bring home two more dresses I saw in a window for her." I mumbled, the words passing out of my throat painfully, but bringing with it also so many happy memories.

"But, Rosalie told me we couldn't spoil her so she'd tell me to go take the dress back," I felt the corner of my mouth turn up. "But then, we'd just agree it was the last one."

My chest ached emptily and I hated this feeling.

"Why don't you use Colette's name when you speak of her?" Vera asked tangentially.

"I just…" I cleared my throat, trying to stay emotionally in check.

"Colette was a real person." Vera said, and then I realized that she was the first person who had ever said that.

The realization hit me like a tidal wave and I began to drown.

"Sometimes just using a name helps you rationalize grief and correctly place it." She spoke softly.

I just nodded.

"What's your father's name?" She redirected.

"Franco." I answered with a frown, not remembering the last time I'd spoken that name or heard it said.

"Do you ever use his name to talk about him?"

"No." I responded swiftly. "Because I don't talk about him."

"Will you now that you've opened up to Rosalie about it?"

"Probably not. There's nothing to say." I shrugged.

Vera stayed quiet, and just took some notes.

"Did you ever want to call him?" Vera asked.

"Not really."

"Even after you first moved?"

"No."

"If you called him right now, what do you think he'd say?" Vera pushed.

"I don't know. It's been 23 years. We are absolute strangers to one another."

"Are you being honest about believing that?" Vera raised an eyebrow and I nodded fervently..

"What did your parents think about you and Rosalie starting a family?" Vera asked, redirecting.

"They were obviously thrilled." I responded. "My mom and dad couldn't contain their excitement. It was the anniversary of Peter legally adopting me when we told them."

"That's amazing." Vera grinned ear to ear.

"It was." I found myself smiling too, then my heart dropped.

"What did Rosalie's parents think?" Vera redirected.

"They didn't think we were ready, but ultimately I think her dad was happy."

"And her mom?"

"Rosalie flew to Spain to tell her and I was on a case so I don't really know. She never really said anything about it." I shrugged, feeling a pit in my stomach.

"Can you recall how you reacted to Rosalie telling you?"

"I… I never knew I could love someone I didn't know so much." I breathed, and my heart started pounding in my chest. "And honestly… it feels awful."

"Awful?"

"Yeah, when you love someone that... unrestricted and relentless, it just... It hurts. Especially when it's gone."

"Tell me how you've expressed that to Rosalie." Vera pressed.

I ran a hand through my hair.

"Well, I… I've tried to tell her." I said in a mumble.

"Do you think she's heard you?"

"No." I answered honestly.

"Do you think that would help her heal if she did?" Vera asked.

I shrugged.

"What would help you heal?" Vera switched her focus.

Time started moving more slowly and I was self-conscious about how loud it seemed that my lungs were expanding in my chest.

I hadn't really ever thought about any of that.

"I've had to have it together since I was five years old. And, I have kept it together. I can't… just break down. I can't just… lose it any time something happens."

"Do you resent Rosalie because she could?"

"No." I answered quickly.

"So, you think if you could just schedule a breakdown, you'd feel better?" Vera asked.

"No." I sighed.

"Emmett, if I can be frank with you…" Vera started.

"Never stopped you before." I chuckled darkly and Vera smiled briefly before regaining her seriousness.

"Being a child of a parent with a mental illness put you in a very frustrating and chaotic home." Vera said, but I looked down and away from her.

"Yes." I simply agreed, keeping my voice low.

"That disorganized environment was mirrored when Rosalie began grieving the way she did, and you went into survival mode to try to cope the best you could from day to day and hide from that chaos. Basically, you have a very strong reaction to Rosalie's pain because it reminds you of your experience with your father. It's your mind's alarm system."

I just nodded, trying not to get defensive. I mean what was I supposed to do? Just let her go off the deep end?

"So it sets off these adaptive behaviors you learned as a child. You had to become a "parentified" child and take on a role that you were not equipped or ready for as you took care of your father, your younger sister, and your mom from a very young age."

Her sentiment stung, and a sour taste filled my mouth.

"Okay." I mumbled, not really making any of the connections she was.

I still hoped there would be a magical phrase and all the pain would be erased, but as time passed I knew that wasn't how this worked.

"Do you think you're afraid of not keeping it together because that makes you like your father?" Vera asked.

I was speechless and I stumbled over a response, trying to make sense of the jabbering in my mind and turn it into a vocal response.

"You don't want to put Rosalie in the same position your father put your mother in." Vera continued anyway, leaning forward like she'd just hit the gold mine of my psyche.

Maybe she had.

I swallowed, cleared my throat and tried to find any sort of sentence floating in my brain.

"No, I don't want that…" I shook my head.

"What is it that you do want then?" Vera asked broadly.

My mind was still guns ablaze and I couldn't sort through any of it.

"I just want a family." I said, swallowing.

Vera waited. She wanted me to keep going.

"I want Rosalie back. I want… I want her to be happy again."

"And you think a baby will make her happy?" Vera asked.

"Yes." I answered easily.

"Emmett, listen to me. Kids don't exist to fill your life. They don't cure existential anxiety or magically heal the gaps you feel you have. Kids aren't some sort of cure for loneliness or feeling like something is missing." Vera said.

I nodded, feeling guilty - like I was being scolded. A deep exhale pushed through my throat. I was trying not to close off, but it was getting harder and harder not to do.

"What are you trying to make kids take the place of?" Vera asked, and that was not the question I was expecting.

I thought she was going to ask what Rosalie was trying to make kids take the place of, and that was an easy answer - her mother.

But, me?…

"I… I don't know." I answered, feeling like she'd totally gotten this wrong.

I just wanted kids with my wife. That was pretty standard for the society we lived in. There was nothing bigger than that.

"Do you think you're ready to be a father?" Vera redirected and this slapped me in the face.

"I mean… no one is." I eventually responded after some thought, thinking this was the correct answer.

"But, do you think you are?" Vera said.

I nodded, furrowing my brow.

"Yeah… Yeah, I am." I said again.

"Do you think you'd be a good father?"

I paused, looking at her with an open mouth.

The most natural impulse to father children flared within me, and I wanted so badly to connect myself to Rosalie in that way. I wanted her to have my children, and I wanted so badly to see myself in their faces. I wanted to teach my kids things and I wanted to laugh with them. I wanted to hold mine and Rosalie's creation in my hands, and against my chest. I wanted to smell their hair while they fell asleep on my shoulder. I wanted to hear their heartbeat and know that the most divine mixture of our blood coursed through their veins.

It was almost too much and too visceral to process and I almost passed out from holding my breath as I lost myself in reverie.

"I think there would be nothing in this world I'd be better at." I finally said.

I genuinely believed that. I genuinely in my heart of hearts believed that.

Vera paused, and gave me a smile.

I exhaled, feeling a smile of my own begin to touch my eyes.

Then, I heard glass shattering from upstairs and my stomach dropped. The moment of suspended hope and bliss was shattered with the glass.

"Rosalie?" I immediately called as I stood from my chair.

I was nervous because I knew she was having a meltdown without even truly knowing. I had grown to know that glass didn't just shatter accidentally, she doesn't tumble down the stairs accidentally, she didn't just cut herself accidentally… There were no accidents anymore.

She didn't answer and I heard my heart in my ears as I tried so hard to listen for her when I made it to the bottom of the stairs.

"Rosalie!" I yelled.

When I heard more glass being shattered, confirming beyond all doubt that it was intentional, I started up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

I heard Vera following me, but I paid no mind as I rounded the corner and rushed down the hallway.

"Rosalie, open the door!" My hands fumbled with the door knob as I realized she'd locked the door.

She didn't answer and I couldn't hear her. My heart pounded in my chest as I thought about busting through the door to get to her. It wouldn't be the first time I had to or the first time I had to pay for someone's door.

Vera unlocked the door without a word, and kept her gaze down as she stepped aside for me.

I couldn't even breathe as I opened the door and saw Rosalie standing in a garden of broken glass. My eyes darted straight to her hands which were an absolute bloody mess.

Rosalie looked over at me with large violet eyes and held out her hands, shards of glass still stuck in her skin.

"Bring me a towel and some hot water if you don't mind." I mumbled to Vera and she nodded.

This wasn't the first time something like this had happened and Vera noticed by the way I reacted.

"Rosalie, come here, baby." I whispered to her calmly.

She shook her head, her eyes blank and expressionless as she kept her massacred hands by her sides casually.

I made my way to her calmly and reached out for her. She whimpered and turned away from me as I grabbed onto her wrists.

Bright red stained her perfect, marble skin and her fingernails were caked with blood.

"Let me see." I encouraged, lifting her wrists lightly so I could see all of the shards of glass littering her skin.

Rosalie swallowed, looking up into my face with unwavering eyes as I started trying to remove the larger pieces of glass from her hands.

"I'm sorry." She breathed in a ghostly, expressionless tone.

"I'll take care of it." I tried to comfort her and she just nodded.

Her big violet eyes were vast and intimidating. I didn't see any of her reasoning behind her outburst evident in her gaze.

I thought she was done with these outbursts.

"You're okay, Rose" I told her as I kissed her forehead.

Vera returned with tweezers for the glass as well as a towel and some hot water in a bowl.

Rosalie's bottom lip trembled as she looked up at me.

"I'm so sorry." Rosalie repeated as she came back into her eyes.

There was a light on in those violet orbs that hadn't been on when I first looked at her.

Then, the most irrational thing started to happen…

Anger bubbled up inside of me and threatened to pour out of my mouth.

I clenched my jaw to stop the overflow. Whatever would come out of my mouth in this moment was definitely going to be something I'd regret later. I didn't know what was happening, but I was shaking with rage.

It wasn't pinpointed or directed. It was like I was submerged in it and it was sticky and thick like peanut butter.

I denied her eye contact and looked down at her hands, taking her right wrist.

She winced as I started on the shards of glass in her hands.

"Am I hurting you?" I asked through gritted teeth, trying to mask my rage.

She shook her head without a word.

I worked silently on getting the glass out of her hands, forgetting that Vera was standing there watching until I heard her leave.

"I… I really didn't mean to." She finally whispered.

Rosalie looked down at her scarred hands and I sighed, stopping to look at her.

"When are you going to stop doing this?" I asked, and my tone was harsh and sharp.

It startled her. Rosalie's bottom lip trembled, her gaze clarifying and searching my face. She only found anger, and of course assumed it was all pointing directly at her.

It wasn't the truth, but I didn't have the desire to try and rationalize.

I didn't allow my gaze to waver from glaring down at her, but I felt my heart in my ears.

"I'm sorry, Em." She swallowed.

But, she didn't shrink back from my harshness. She kept my gaze almost defiantly.

"No, you aren't." I said coldly.

Her eyes widened and her bottom lip pouted pathetically as she looked up at me.

"Don't do this to me anymore, Rosalie." I begged, taking her face in both of my hands and trying to get her to magically understand all that was tangled in my mind.

She burst into tears and it ripped my soul straight out of my chest.

"Please." I mumbled, clenching my hands into fists at my side as she cried in front of me.

I made no effort to try and reach out for her, and she covered her face with her hands as she sobbed.

"Rosalie, it breaks my heart see you like this." I admitted, softening my tone a little.

She didn't respond, and I fought the urge to reach out for her.

"Why did you do it?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"I don't know." She looked away, her eyes dark. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm just so tired of being sad." She eventually whined through gritted teeth.

"Me too." I gulped, trying to manage the lump in my throat, hating that I'd made her cry.

"When will it get better? I'm so sick of being like this." Rosalie gasped between her sobs.

"I don't know, Rosalie. I really don't know." I sighed, getting angry again and wanting to tell her to just stop doing this.

"I'm sorry, Em." Rosalie cried. "I just want a baby so bad it kills me. I… I wish I could want something else. Anything else."

"Do you think that you're magically going to stop throwing tantrums like this when a baby's involved?" I mumbled, thinking about having to explain to a child why their mother was melting down like this all the time.

She nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.

"That's ridiculous, you know?" I said monotonously, looking away from her. "You're acting out."

"I c-can stop for them…' She started, crying anew. "I can."

"Then, stop for me, Rosalie! Stop for me. I'm here, right now. I'm here now, and I need you to stop doing this. I'm trying to get better and it drags me right back down to the bottom to see you like this. I'm trying to move on, but I can't. You won't let me. You won't." I let the words pour now, and raved. "You won't let us move on."

"Can I come in?" Vera asked tentatively, peeking around the door with a dustpan and a broom.

"Yeah," I started, reaching for the broom. "Don't worry about it. I've got it."

Vera held tightly to the handle of the broom, looking up at me with determined eyes.

"No, let me do it." She said in a command and I let it go.

"Vera, I'm so sorry." Rosalie said in a ghostly tone.

Vera just nodded, and Rosalie seemed devastated to see the impact of what she'd done now that there was no sympathy for her.

But still, my instinct took over and I gave in like I always did. I sighed and reached for her.

I lifted Rosalie off the ground so her bare feet wouldn't be susceptible to the glass littering the floor and Rosalie wrapped her legs around me as I held her on my hip like a pouting child. She ducked her head into my shoulder to hide her face and wound her arms around my neck as Vera started sweeping the glass up wordlessly.

My heart raced in the silence. I felt Rosalie's breath on my neck and a few little tears escaped her eyes onto my skin.

I hated hearing her cry. It was the worst sound in the world, but I remained steadfast as I held her, rocking back and forth between my feet to soothe her.

Vera was quiet, keeping her head down as she worked.

"You are my wife. I am your husband. Any problem you face, I face with you." I said under my breath.

"I hurt when you hurt." I said simply, but that seemed to be enough and she sighed into me, sobbing freely and openly. "But, you've gotta try to help me out. I'm tired, Rose. I'm really tired of your tantrums."

I brushed my hands through her hair, my heart racing at the honesty in my voice.

I noticed the glass was from a mirror on the wall and I made a mental note to pay Vera for it and replace it.

"I heard you talking with Vera." She breathed.

Vera remained still in the corner, not even seeming to respirate as she listened to Rosalie.

I nodded, reviewing the conversation briefly in my mind.

"I knew it was bad to eavesdrop, but I did, because I knew you'd speak more freely…" Rosalie murmured, darting her eyes down.

"It's okay." I told her, thinking she thought I was upset with her.

"I think… I think I know what's missing and then…. then… then I just got sad for you." She sniveled.

It stung to hear her reaction to my conversation with Vera, and I ached with her.

I was curious though as to what insight she thought she had.

"Why are you sad for me?" I asked, holding her close.

"Because… because… You would be such a good dad." Rosalie sobbed into me.

I loved her so much it absolutely consumed me. She was my partner. I couldn't do life without her.

And, then I realized how well she knew me and still loved me, how well I knew her and still loved her.

I know she felt it was her own shortcoming and failure that kept me from that and I willed it to flee her mind. I wished that she would see that wasn't the case and stop beating herself up.

As soon as her eyes met mine, I ducked my head to meet her lips.

"And, I want to give you that chance so badly, Em. You should have the opportunity to be a father." She said, kissing me.

"And, I… I really wish my mom wanted to know that I would be a good mother." Rosalie sobbed.

"I know you do…" I hated Camille more and more with each passing moment, and I shook with all the mixture of emotions in my mind.

Then, it became apparent why she couldn't look at herself in the mirror. She saw her mother. My anger flared. One of these days, I'd give Camille the what for, but she probably wouldn't even care…

"Em, your father should know that you would be such a good dad. It'd make him very proud." She wiped her eyes with the back of her mangled hands before looking up at me with those wide violet orbs.

My heartbeat was in my throat.

Her words stabbed into my chest like a hot knife and as she cried, the knife twisted to plunge deeper.

The arrangement of words rang in my ears and I took a sharp inhale. I noticed Vera's gaze was heavy on us.

"I don't want to talk about this." I mumbled, closing my eyes tightly as I tried to manage the ringing in my ears.

She didn't say anything. She just waited, wrapping her arms tighter around my back, but breaking her wrists to keep from placing her injured hands on me.

"I'll hire someone to find him." Rosalie swore intensely and that absolutely terrified me.

She wasn't kidding.

"No. Don't do that." I shook with terror, knowing how easy that would be for her.

Rosalie waited again, knowing I had a lot to sort through in my own jumbled mess of a mind.

"You say the word. I'll do it. When you're ready." Rosalie whispered and my throat constricted so I could barely breathe, but I just nodded and squeezed her tight. "I just want you to know it's an option, if you want that."

"I don't think I'll ever want that." I finally said, almost confident.

"Em, you can't just erase him. It's not how it works." Rosalie said breathily, and suddenly in just a moment I'd never felt further from her.

"No… But, I…" I didn't know how to go on, but luckily she interrupted me.

"Listen, Em, all of that really happened. You can pretend it didn't, but it did. It all happened. He's your father and…" She went on. "And, he's an important part of your life."

"No, he really isn't." I said through a tight, sore throat.

I hated feeling like she was scolding me about something she didn't understand the half of.

"He could be if…"

"Rosalie, stop." I said harshly.

"You can try and…"

"God, will you listen to me?" I groaned, wiping my hands over my face frustratedly.

Rosalie paused, her eyes wide and glistening as she nodded. She looked like a scolded puppy and it pulled at a deep heartstring.

"I don't want to see him." I told her.

"But…" She protested, but stopped speaking at the sight of the look I was giving her.

"Stop trying to make it the same thing as your relationship with your mother. It isn't. You think I am starving for approval just like you, but I don't. I don't care what he thinks of me. It's been almost a quarter of a century since he's even seen me, Rosalie. He doesn't know me at all."

I tried not to be too sharp but it wasn't easy, and the words kept coming.

"And do you really think I'm going to take advice from you right now?" I snarled, knowing I was being just straight up awful now. "You're irrational."

"Okay, Em, God…" Rosalie's bottom lip trembled.

I knew I'd hurt her, and it killed me.

We just stared at each other for a long moment.

We couldn't say anything.

My throat got tighter and tighter as I looked into her heartbroken eyes.

We glared at each other angrily.

A few tears raced down her cheeks and I clenched my jaw as I looked at her without wavering.

She didn't release my eyes either, searching them with her own and trying to punish me for letting her revel in her sadness.

"Rosalie, Peter is my dad." I spoke up, admitting this realization to her aloud as it happened in real time.

"I know you, so I know you're trying to come up with a thousand reasons why we're not getting pregnant, and that if we fix these things it's gonna be like magic; you think that the universe is cosmically trying to tell me to reach out to my father, and then we'll be able to bring a baby into the world, but Rosalie, I already have one. I have the father I chose and that chose me. Peter is my dad. He legally adopted me and Maria. He's my dad."

"Peter is the one who taught me… Peter taught me how to be a man, and he showed me how to love you because I watched him love my mom. Peter taught me how to be a father. I… I know it's hard for you to understand, but when… when you were saying all that, I just thought of him. I just want him to be proud of me." I went on, shocked with each new word that tumbled out of my subconscious and into the air.

It was like my brain was on autopilot because this was definitely not a conscious thought process, but I realized more and more that it was true.

"It's taken a long time, but Peter has proven time and time again that he's my dad, Rosalie. He's Maria's dad too, because she doesn't remember any differently… But, I chose him. I chose him because of everything he is and everything he's been to me, and I've watched him with Maria and Enzo's kids and… and that's what I want too."

Rosalie nodded, her eyes wide as she listened to me.

"Okay." She gave me a little smile, noting what I was saying.

I took a deep breath, then like a tsunami, emotion crashed over me and vulnerability poured from my mouth.

"You don't know everything, and one day I'll tell you all of it… But, Peter… Peter changed the course of my life, my mom's life, my sister's life… Forever."

Rosalie just nodded, swallowing, and seeming to understand, but I still expanded.

"I just… Of course I feel terrible for leaving Cuba and my father like I did, but it was the best thing for me and for Maria and my mom. I let him go, Rosalie, and I know it's awful, but I did. I had to be selfish. I knew he was toxic and that the bad outweighed the good a million to one. He wasn't the victim, we were. He had a thousand chances to get help and to get better for us, but he didn't. He didn't take that chance, so in my mind, that means he didn't want to be the man that I needed to be my father. He didn't think enough about me to change. He didn't love me enough to just… try for my sake to get better."

It felt like I was vomiting my words without much cognizant thought, but with every expulsion from my subconscious, I felt better and better.

"But, I know that what my mom, Maria, and I did was for the best. Before Peter… My mom had this blank expression on her face whenever Maria or I needed her, so I realized I couldn't count on her to take care of us. She couldn't stand up to my father, and she just… after a while of it, she learned how to be helpless. She'd pretend she didn't see the bruises on her face or hear our stomachs growling because it wasn't like she could do anything, and even when we got to America she was so far away she couldn't help us…"

"She felt just as hopeless as I did because that was habit for us, but, Peter… Peter stepped in and changed everything. He picked us up off the floor and he saw how we needed him and stepped up to make sure we'd never hurt. He wanted to take care of me and love me and teach me things and listen to me talk about whatever stupid thing I found interesting… I just… He is my dad, Rosalie. He's my dad in every single way but genetics.."

"I want him to watch me be half as good a father to our kids as he was to me." I said into Rosalie's hair as I ducked into her side.

She burst into tears at this, a million irrational apologies pouring from her mouth.

"I want that for you so badly." She wailed. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't say that." I brushed her hair off her face.

"I took a test just now." She breathed, rationalizing her apologies. "I bought it at a gas station on my walk."

I knew what kind of test she was talking about and I knew it had been negative because it was yet another reason she'd had this meltdown.

I clenched my jaw.

"I… I felt sick this morning and… I… I'm a few days late and I thought… I just… Today made me hope again." She sniffled.

"It's not bad to hope again, Rose." I mumbled, keeping my eyes down.

Today felt different, sure, and I'd known I'd begun to hope again too…

Hearing the tragedy of another negative wasn't getting any easier…

"I'm so sick of being disappointed." She spoke catastrophically. "I'm sick of people telling me to relax, or do a handstand after we have sex, or to drink cough syrup or honey and cinnamon. I can't keep on trying and failing."

"I know." I exhaled.

"But, I can't keep disappointing you even more than all of that." She said.

"I'm not disappointed in you, Rose. It's different. It's completely different, okay?"

I swallowed.

"I know." She sighed. "I know… But…"

"But nothing." I said resolutely. "Nothing about you disappoints me. You amaze me."

After a long pause, I watched Rosalie's expression transform into something I hadn't seen in a long time.

"We're raising our kids Catholic." Rosalie said with passion and determination.

"Okay." I told her, a little confused at her thought process.

Her religious fervor ebbed and flowed and right now it must be on a high. I sighed, kissing her hair as she buried her head into my chest.

Rosalie's tears picked up in passion again and I shot a look over to Vera for some answers. She didn't return my gaze and didn't even look up, but it was obvious she was listening because her brow furrowed.

"No… we are. We are." Rosalie looked into my eyes determinedly, fire in her violet irises.

"Okay. We are." I just mirrored her sentiments to calm her down.

"Because we're going to have kids." She said, making sure that my gaze didn't falter from hers for a second. "We've got to keep trying, even though we've been disappointed for so long…"

At this, Vera looked up.

I was taken aback by Rosalie's intensity and passion and I had to force a sharp inhale to remind myself to keep breathing.

"It's going to work out for us." She said strongly. "It has to. I don't care what it costs. I don't care where we have to go or how many doctors we have to see. We're going to have kids. "

Rosalie was an entirely new being as she clung to my side willing me to understand the weight of her words.

Her brilliant determination was astounding and the light in her eyes would've blinded me if it hadn't been the catalyst to the smile on my face as I looked at her.

"It will." I said and kissed her quick, brushing her hair back behind her ear to look into her beautiful face.