Yes, I know; VERY early update :) I wanted to get this up because I won't have a chance to update again until the weekend or after. So I hope you enjoy! As always, thanks for reading and reviewing :)

I can't believe I'm looking at Casey. My Casey. Casey, who always cared too much about what her colleagues thought of her getting her job back. Casey, who has always felt she wasn't good enough for me.

Seeing her in there, in charge and so confident, makes me feel prouder than I ever thought possible. And I know at this instant that me asking her to give this up is wrong and selfish. We can make it work. I can't let Casey give this up.

I stand there watching her for what seems like several minutes, though I'm sure only a couple minutes actually elapse. Casey turns towards the window – and sees me. She stops talking immediately, seemingly surprised to see me. I watch as she turns back to her group, and then heads towards the door.

The door opens a few minutes later and Casey is greeting me with a huge smile and a hug. "Alex! I am so sorry I am still at work. I've been trying – "

I'm quick to quiet her. I shush her and kiss her cheek gently. "It's okay; you don't have to explain it to me. I just…wanted to come by. Take your time, okay? I'll wait."

Casey smiles sweetly at me and interlocks her fingers with mine. "I'm about done, honey. I'm so sorry this is going so late. But it's my last day and I wanted to make sure everyone is caught up on everything."

I smile again, not being able to resist reaching out and touching Casey's neck. It's funny; I came here to make sure she did indeed quit and was coming home at a decent hour, and now I want nothing more than to see her go back in that conference room and make me even prouder than I already am.

"Just take your time, honey. And then we're going to talk about your job, okay?"

"I told you I would quit, Alex. I already told Senator Palmer – "

I hold up my hand to stop her. "We'll talk. Just come out to the car when you're done. I want to take you to dinner, and then we'll talk about this."

She gives me another smile and a nod and immediately goes back into the conference room. I stand there and watch her again for a few minutes. She doesn't miss a beat; she seems to pick right back up where she left off.

As I turn to leave the building and go back to my car, I see Senator Palmer standing by the coffee machine talking to the volunteer who had come in. I stop right in front of the machine, causing the Senator and the volunteer to both look at me. I lock eyes with Senator Palmer and I say, "I am so proud of her."

He actually smiles at me. A real, genuine smile; not a forced politician's crooked back-stabbing smile. Then he says, "Good. You should be."

I sit in the car for about twenty minutes before Casey comes out. She's smiling and cheerful and doesn't seem at all upset about me showing up at her job. She opens the door and gets in the passenger side, leaning across the seat to give me a kiss. "I have my jeep, you know. I can follow you to whatever restaurant you want to go to. Or we can take your car and I can get my jeep later. I guess it doesn't matter."

She's talking excitedly, telling me how much she's missed me. I sit there in silence, just watching and listening to her. As silly as it may be, I see Casey in a different light now. I just witnessed what she's capable of. And we're not leaving this parking lot until she knows that.

"Alex? What's going on?" Casey asks in alarm, finally noticing that I'm not speaking. Her face kind of falls and she says, "Are you mad at me for working late? I am so sorry, Alex, I know I promised – "

I lean over and place my hand on her knee, causing her to quiet immediately. She puts her eyes on mine, and I know I have her full attention. I can speak freely from the heart now. So I do. "I'm not mad at you, Casey. Not at all." She seems to visibly relax, but I don't stop talking. "Actually, let me correct that – I'm not mad anymore. I was. I was hurt. When you didn't answer my latest text, it really upset me. I know you're busy…but I felt slighted. I felt you were choosing the job over me."

Casey is quick to correct me. "That isn't true, Alex! I would never do that! I just – "

I have to silence her again. "Let me talk, okay? I have something I want to tell you and I don't want you to interrupt…because you need to hear this." She nods at me to continue, so I do. "I came here with every intention of dragging you home and yelling at you for doing the same thing you used to chastise me about. It's not like you to be hypocritical and I was going to remind you of that. One of the girls inside said you were in a meeting so I told her bitterly to give you a message…and as I was leaving, Senator Palmer caught up to me out here. He told me that you had quit, and I was glad. I was glad, Casey. That is so selfish of me. All I was thinking about was myself and how much I wanted to have you home cuddled up on the couch with me playing with your hair. I didn't think about all the times I let you down by working late or coming home in a horrible mood and taking it out on you. I told the Senator I was glad that you quit because we needed to spend time together. I accused him of taking advantage of you; making you work for his campaign and not saying no when you really didn't want to. And he reminded me that you never do what you don't want to. And then he took me inside and showed me what you were doing. And I tell you, Casey…" I have to stop to look for the right words. I know what I want to say, but I don't think any words are going to adequately describe how I felt seeing Casey so sure of herself. "I can't even tell you how good I felt when I saw you. You were leading those people, Casey; they were looking to you. You seemed so confident and sure of yourself. And I can't remember ever seeing you like that."

Casey looks away from me, as if she's embarrassed, and I touch her again to get her to look at me once more. "I don't mean that as an insult, honey; I just mean that when you came back to the DA's office you never acted that confident. It was like you felt inferior to everyone around you and were just waiting for you next mistake. I know how low your self-esteem used to be. I like to think I partially contributed to it improving, but I think it was all you. You've always had this spark inside you that desperately wanted to be ignited. And I could always see it; even though you couldn't. I never thought it would be something like this that lit the fire, but sometimes life is unpredictable. Doors close and others open and we have to go through all of them to find out where we really belong. Unexpected opportunities present themselves and sometimes we have to make room for them in our lives."

I've rendered Casey speechless; that isn't an easy task. I deserve some type of award for that. She's staring at me like she can't believe the words that are coming out of my mouth. I pick up her hand as I start speaking again. "I should be insanely jealous of you, Casey. You have what I've always wanted. You have a United States Senator that admires you and says you're the best person on his staff. You're smart, you're driven, you don't take shit from people. I've worked hard my whole life so I could put myself on a clear path to the career I wanted. ADA, DA, possibly judge, state legislature, Governor…those are things I wanted. And things I realize now that I won't have."

"Why?" Casey asks, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "You can still have all those things, Alex."

I shake my head. "Maybe some of them…but my path is different now, Casey. I'm on a different course. I'm with you and I'm going to be with you for the rest of my life. And you're going places. You've found what you were meant to do. Senator Palmer thinks you should run for office."

"What?" Casey asks, in complete disbelief. "He said that?"

"Yes, he did. And I agree with him. We need leaders like you. People who won't follow the norm. People who aren't afraid to stray and will remain true to themselves no matter what. I wanted to be a politician – you know that. But I wouldn't make half the difference that you would. I don't have your courage or your convictions. I'd let popular ideas and beliefs control me; and I know you wouldn't. And me – I'm a different person now too. Just a year ago I would be seeing red because I would be so jealous of you. But now…I feel no hint of jealously. I feel pride for you, Casey. It's your turn to shine and I'll accept whatever role I play in anything you do." I stop momentarily so I can wipe away the rogue tear that's rolling down Casey's cheek. "And what I'm trying to say is that I don't want you to quit the campaign. You need this experience. You need to discover for yourself just how much potential you have. I can tell you, the Senator can tell you, but ultimately you have to find out for yourself. Now I know he offered you a choice to strictly do campaign work and go back to his Senate office after the election; and I think you should do that. We can work it out. If there are weekends or nights you need to travel, I'll go with you. I'll help you any way that I can. Not because it's my job as your fiancée; but because I believe in Casey Novak."

Before I have a chance to say or do anything else, Casey is in my arms. She's crying softly and clinging to me as if her life depends on it. I smile proudly and wrap my arms around her tighter. "I meant every word I said, Case."

We spend the next few minutes in silence, holding each other until Casey's tears subside and she pulls away from me so she can look me in the eyes. She gives me a teary smile and says, "Alex…you have no idea how that makes me feel…"

I touch her cheek again. "I think I do."

Casey sighs contently and wipes at her eyes with her sleeve. Then she sits back down in her seat and says, "I'm sorry…I'm a mess here. Your tough Casey is becoming a softie because of you. You always know the right things to say to me. You always know exactly what I need to hear."

"That's my job, Casey. I have to make sure you realize how special you are, how much you can accomplish. And it was so wrong of me to expect you to give this job up. I know you like it…and I know you're good at it."

Casey is facing forward, looking thoughtful. "I do, Alex. But not as much as I love you. And the truth is, the campaign will be going into high-gear in the next couple of months. I'm going to have to travel to a lot of events and fundraisers. Even if I do just work days…I'll still have obligations. It will still take me away from you. And when Senator Palmer offered me the full-time campaign job, he said I will still have to be in Washington on Mondays as long as I am planning to go back to work in his office. I know we can work it out, but do we really want to? I still want my time with you. And I still want to play."

I turn so I'm facing her, once again picking up her hand. "Casey…we can do it. Anything you need to attend I'm sure you will know about well in advance and we'll be able to make arrangements. And anything on weekends I can go to with you, Casey. And as far as the Washington thing…it hasn't been an issue yet, and I don't foresee it being one. You leave Sunday night and you're home Monday night and the Senator's office pays for airfare and hotel. It's not unreasonable. I don't see any reason you can't continue to do that."

I can see that Casey still has doubts. She has that unsure look on her face, the one I hate to see. It's a vast contrast to the determined look she had in the conference room. I can see the wheels turning in her head and I know she's thinking of only me and not herself.

"I do love the job, Alex. It makes me feel good about myself. It makes me feel like I'm good at something. But it's nothing compared to you. You mean more to me than any job. But I don't want this to come between us. And I don't want you to give up your dreams for me. I love what I'm doing, but I'm not sure I want this as a career…it's all so new right now and I think I need to do it for a while before I can be sure. And running for office never crossed my mind. I'm not sure I'd even ever want to do that. I think it's too early to be talking about that kind of thing."

"That's fine, Casey. You don't have to decide anything right now. Just stick with the campaign and give it a good go and then go back to working for Senator Palmer. See how it sits for you in the long-run. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. If you choose a political career - either as an elected official or behind the scenes - I'll support you. If you chose to go back to being an ADA or attorney, I'll support you. If you decide to stay home and do nothing, I'll support you. If you decide to go work at Burger King, I'll support you."

That makes Casey smile. "Hmmm…don't tempt me. That would get me free whoopers whenever I want."

I laugh lightly and play with Casey's fingers. "The choice is yours, honey. It's your future. You decide what happens."

Casey sneaks a kiss and then gazes deeply into my eyes again. "I'll stick with the job and then go back to working in his office after the election. As long as I know you're okay with it. As things come up, we'll sit down together and figure them out."

"That's perfect, Casey. That's all we can do."

"And there's one thing you're wrong about, Alex," Casey says sternly, catching my undivided attention. "It's not my future. It's ours."

Our future. That has a nice ring to it. I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing that.

So far our weekend has been wonderful. Yesterday, Saturday, we finally got Casey's motorcycle; the Honda she had wanted. I have to admit it's not as awful as I thought it would be. It's a smaller bike, really quite attractive, and not loud. When she test-drove it at the dealership on Saturday, the dealer had been impressed by how well she was able to handle the bike. She's not afraid of it and seems to take it very seriously. I've yet to ride on the back of it with her. I don't think I ever will. We have her scooter for that.

Even though I like the bike and I know Casey knows how to handle it, it won't stop me from worrying about her when she takes it out. She's not taking it to work as of now, but has been talking about it. The idea of her riding that thing down the highway on a daily basis scares me…as ridiculous as that may sound.

On the way home from getting the motorcycle, Casey spotted a flea market set up in a church parking lot and made me stop. I've never been one for yard sales or flea markets, but I'll admit it was fun browsing around. I found a couple antique flower vases for my mother. And Casey? You won't believe what Casey found. She had come up to me with this dopey stupid grin, holding something behind her back. And then she presented me with a t-shirt in the ugliest shade of green I'd ever seen, with the words "I'm hers" embroidered across the front – and a finger pointing to the right. Of course Casey bought it. She says when she wears it I have to walk on her right so the t-shirt is politically correct. I told her it will meet with an unfortunate accident involving bleach in the near future.

Then we spent Saturday night watching movies. It was Casey's turn to pick so we ended up watching one of those awful 'X-Men' movies. It was actually pretty fun though. This particular installment had a character that held the job title of Secretary of Mutant Affairs, a position on the President's Cabinet. Remembering our conversation at the cabin about red hair being the result of a 'mutant' gene, I had told Casey that Secretary of Mutant Affairs was definitely in her future. That had gotten a huge laugh out of us, and now Casey is known as my "little cute mutant."

Sunday finds us at the local bakery – very undecidedly ordering our wedding cake.

The girl that's taking our order – Amanda – has been waiting on us for nearly forty-five minutes. We're nightmare customers; that's for sure. Not rude of course, but we need every option explained and shown to us and we can't seem to agree on anything.

Casey is clinging to my arm like a dryer sheet as we flip through the wedding cake book for what seems like the millionth time. This display of affection would normally embarrass me and I'd be very apologetic to the bakery clerk. But it's Casey, and I love Casey touching me; so I allow it.

"I really like the three-tier style," I tell Casey, pointing to one of my favorites in the book. It's a very elegant three-tiered cake with white icing and flowers and roses elaborately piped around the sides. You can custom order any aspect of it you want; but I actually think the cake in the book looks about perfect.

Casey frowns, staring at the picture disapprovingly. "It's very nice…but isn't that a lot of cake? We haven't gotten back all our RSVPs yet; we don't even know how many people are coming. If we had a lot left over, we'd be eating cake for weeks."

I smile at her. "I didn't think you'd mind that."

She makes a face at me. "Normally I wouldn't." Her eyes go to the price list. "But look at the price, Alex. I didn't even pay that much for my iPhone."

I know that's a slight exaggeration, but I get her point. But it's a special occasion – you can't put a price on it. "We're only going to get married once, Casey. That cake is perfect. I know it's expensive, but aren't we worth it?" I can tell I'm weakening Casey's resolve. She's not saying anything and staring at the photo, fully aware of how much I want the cake. So I decide to sweeten the deal. "It's beautiful…just like you."

Casey smiles a little at that. "Well, when you put it that way – "

I can tell that Amanda has grown uncomfortable with us. She's been polite not to say anything, but she couldn't hide the shock on her face when Casey had said, "Her name is Casey…and she's right here" in response to Amanda's question as to my fiancée's name. I'm sure we're not the only lesbian couple to have ordered a cake from their bakery…but that doesn't make it easier for some people.

I look up at Amanda, victory in my eyes. "Okay, I think we've decided. I'm sorry for keeping you. We just want this day to be perfect, you know?"

She nods and quickly and gets out an order form. After taking down our basic order information, we're hit with more questions – what flavor cake do we want? What type of icing?

Casey and I exchange glances and I can read from Amanda's body language that she's getting very irritated with us. Well, I'm sorry – but neither of us have any experience with picking out a wedding cake.

"Marble cake?" Casey suggests, her eyes hopeful.

"That would be fine," I quickly agree. "Or chocolate."

"Whatever you want."

"No; whatever you want, Casey. I picked out the style."

"Well, do you like marble or chocolate better?"

I sigh in amusement, eyeballing Amanda once again. She's looking away from us impatiently, to another customer who has entered the bakery. The other clerk is assisting someone else, so Amanda asks if we mind if she helps the new customer while we decide on our cake. We tell her it's fine, and she strides away from us quickly. She's probably thinking we're the most indecisive difficult customers ever.

Casey laughs. "That poor girl. We've taken up nearly an hour of her time because we can't decide on something. I'll bet she's going to hope we return again and again and she always gets the pleasure of waiting on us."

I return her chuckle. "Yeah…but she has to see it from our standpoint. We want it just so because it's the most important day of our lives. I'm sure they have customers like us all the time."

Finally Casey settles on marble cake. And when Amanda returns to see if we've decided on something, we make things even more difficult for us. She writes down our selection of cake and when she asks us about the icing, we ask her to explain the different types they offer. They have regular sweet icing, a less sweet whipped option, an Almond flavored icing…way too many choices. Poor Amanda is right in the middle of explaining them to us – when Casey asks if we can sample them.

I shoot her a look to let her know she's gone too far, but Casey just shrugs. "I'd really like to taste the difference. We don't want to get something we don't like."

Amanda is getting worse and worse at hiding her irritation with us. She mumbles a "Sure," and doesn't even smile as she disappears out of view behind the counter and emerges a few minutes later carrying a plate of small plastic cups. She sits it down on the counter and tells us what each type of icing is as we try it.

I like the almond – Casey likes the whipped. She says the almond tastes too "artificial". I say the whipped isn't sweet enough. God, it's like we're married already! Bickering like an old gray-haired couple that's been married for fifty years.

After a short back and forth exchange, we meet an easy compromise – we'll go with Casey's type of icing and I get to pick the colors for the cake. I end up choosing light pink and gray, and surprisingly Casey really likes my selection.

When we finally pay the deposit and leave the bakery, we have been there nearly an hour and a half. We sling our arms around each other's shoulders as soon as we're out the door, both of us giggling.

"God, Casey, that was mean! 'Can we sample the different icings?' I thought she was going to punch you in the face."

Casey giggles again. "I really didn't say that to be difficult; I did want to try them. And I'm glad we did. By the way, that almond flavor was awful."

"Was not! It was the best out of all of them!"

We had walked to the bakery, so we decide to take a little trek downtown while we're out. It's a nice day and we have nothing else to do. We remove our arms from each other and opt instead to hold hands. And once we get a block or so, Casey stops us and points excitedly at an ice cream place.

"Oh! They're finally open for the season!" She grabs my arm again and puts her chin on my arm. "Ice cream? Please, Alex?"

I'm not that big on ice cream, but how can I resist a sweet request like that?

"Sure; you're buying," I tell Casey, opening the door and holding it for her. Once she hurries through it, I sigh and ask, "Why do I always give in to you?"

She smiles and kisses my cheek. "Because I'm your cute little mutant."

Yep. That would be why.

The next week starts out pretty well.

Firstly, I get a call from the jewelry store telling me that the wedding band that goes along with Casey's engagement ring is in. It had to be special ordered because I made some requests for it. It's supposed to fit together perfectly with Casey's engagement ring. I picked it up Monday after work and I have it hidden away where Casey will never prematurely find it. It is absolutely beautiful.

And Casey has worked out a nice schedule with her job, which will allow her to be home most evenings with me, and most weekends as well. She'll be required to travel with the Senator as the campaign progresses…but we'll work that out as we come to it. I'll sacrifice whatever I have to help Casey reach her full potential…and I know she'll always do the same for me.

We're planning on getting together with Casey's dad this weekend. He wants to pay for the catering and flowers and part of the rental fee for the Botanical Gardens. I hate to see him spend his money that he can ill-afford…but I'm allowing it because of Casey. I know she feels badly that my parents and me are absorbing most of the cost for our wedding, even though she hasn't said so. Letting her father pay for some of it will help, make Casey feel like her family is making a difference too. And that's important.

And on Sunday, I am going wedding dress shopping with my mother. She's excited - maybe even more excited than I am. She said it's always been her dream to take her daughter shopping for a wedding dress. She has a whole list of places she wants to take me, and would you know it, there's a bridal show at the New York City Convention Center all weekend long.

Mother wants to take Casey dress shopping too. On a separate day from me, of course. She says she already thinks of Casey as her daughter and would be honored to take her. I have mixed feelings about it. Casey doesn't really have anyone to go with – no close female friends, and her mother passed away. I know it makes her sad to know she will never have the chance to do something so special with her mother, as I am with mine. Wedding dress shopping would be a good bonding time for Casey and my mother.

But I had another idea. I know this breaks every marriage tradition on the books. But maybe that doesn't matter; Casey and I aren't a 'traditional' couple anyway. Anyway, I wanted to go with her. Spend a whole day trying on dresses and just being together.

Mother thinks that is a very sweet and loving idea. But also says we will be missing out on so much if we see each other's dresses before the wedding. Part of the excitement and the magic is making your other half wait until the big moment to see you. It makes it that much more special. The anticipation leading up to it…there's nothing like it. And wedding dress shopping with your mother is a rule written in stone in the Cabot family.

So I'm torn…both ideas have their advantages and disadvantages. I've decided to talk to Casey after this weekend and see what she wants to do.

So this week can hurry up and get over so I'm just a little closer to marrying the woman of my dreams.

I'm sitting in a meeting Thursday afternoon with three of my ADAs at a little after two PM when one of the worst things imaginable happens.

My secretary Becca comes into the conference room just as I'm speaking about actions I want taken regarding a huge case that the Homicide squad is handling. Normally she'll linger by the door until I beckon her inside. But today she walks right up to me and actually verbally interrupts me.

"Miss Cabot," she whispers, her voice serious and her expression hard. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but Casey called. I don't know the details, but she's at the hospital and she says it's an emergency."

I don't think I've ever made a quicker, hastier exit. I tell Becca to cancel everything on my calendar for the day, and I literally run to my car. I'm trying to call Casey the whole time I'm running to the parking garage.

I can't even describe what I feel as I drive to the hospital. I'm scared and nauseous, and a million scenarios as to what could have happened to Casey are going through my head. The only thing I hang on to is the knowledge that she phoned my office. That lets me know she's not lying unconscious in a hospital bed. But it still could bad. Anything could have happened.

What would usually be a fifteen minute trip from my office to the hospital only takes me less than ten minutes. I take back roads to avoid traffic, and I go well over the speed limit. Let the police try and pull me over - they'd have to catch me first.

Once inside at the front desk, I'm informed that Casey is still in the emergency room. I'm given the option of having a nurse lead me to her room, but I don't want to wait. I can get there before a nurse would even have time to walk to the front of the hospital.

I easily find the emergency unit and burst through the double-doors, ignoring the receptionist at the desk asking me who I am there to see. I have the room number; I don't need to stop. Room E52 is at the very end of the hall and I quickly stride in through the open door - and my heart stops at what I see.

Casey is sitting on the examining table, holding a bloody towel to her left cheek. Three uniformed police officers are standing in front of her with their notepads out, and I see a girl I recognize from the campaign office sitting in the chair along the wall.

Casey's eyes immediately go to me, and she hops down off the table. "Alex!"

My heart is my throat as I step forward and embrace her. She appears to be okay except for an injury on her cheek - but why are the police here? What happened to her?

Casey is lightly crying and shaking in my arms, and my nauseous feeling intensifies. Casey never gets this upset. Something is seriously wrong.

I ignore all the eyes on me and kiss the top of Casey's head. She's holding the towel to her cheek with one hand, and squeezing my hand with the other. She has her face buried in my chest and her shaking doesn't subside even when I speak to her gently. "What happened, baby?" She just shakes her head and cries a bit harder, and I raise my eyes to the officers in the room. "Can someone tell me what the hell is going on? What happened to her cheek?"

"She was mugged in the parking lot of Senator Palmer's campaign headquarters," the oldest of three officers explains.

"What?" I'm in near panic, holding on tighter to my frightened fiancée in my arms. She was mugged…it's not possible…it happens to other people, not to Casey. I lift her head off my chest. "Baby, are you okay? Let me see your cheek."

Casey's eyes are filled with tears and she reluctantly lowers the towel, exposing an angry ugly gash on her cheek. My heart clenches when I realize what happened to her - she was pistol-whipped. I've lived in New York long enough to be able to recognize a wound from a pistol.

"Oh God…" I can barely utter out as I pull her close to me again and wrap my arms around her securely. I don't want to let her go. She's safe in my arms. No one can scare her or pistol-whip her. I can't stop my own tears from falling as I whisper to her that it's okay, that I'm here now and I'll keep her safe…just as she kept me safe at the cabin.

"Alex…" Casey manages to say, her voice muffled by my chest. "He took my ring! He took my ring, Alex!" And then she bursts into uncontrollable sobs, causing my heart to shatter as I attempt to hold her together.

All three officers and the girl from the campaign office are watching us, as if we're entertainment. I put my eyes on them again, and shift into full Ice Queen mode. "Could you give us some privacy? Please? Casey doesn't need an audience right now."

The girl from the office bails quickly, telling Casey not to come back to the office today. I have to stop myself from scoffing; as if I'd let her go back there right now anyway. The three officers exchange glances the older one clears his throat, motioning for the other two to make themselves scarce.

"We already took her statement and got a description of the suspect. We suspect it was a random attack; we've had a string of them in the area the past week." He pulls a business card from his pocket and hands it to me. "I'm office James Fredricks; feel free to call me if anything else comes about. Besides the cheek, she is otherwise uninjured. A doctor will be along shortly to stich her up, and we've taken a report on the items that were taken from her. We'll do our best to recover them."

I nod in appreciate as he looks one more time at Casey and then exit's the room, finally leaving Casey and I to our privacy.

As soon as we're alone, I pry Casey off me and make her sit back down on the examining table. She's calmed down a bit now, and I take the towel from her cheek and drop it on the table beside her. Her cheek is still bleeding, but it's starting to clot now and I know she's in no danger of bleeding to death.

I grab the nearby chair and position it right in front of the examining table so I can sit face-to-face with Casey. She hasn't let go of my hand, so I squeeze hers tightly as I speak, running my finger over where her ring should be. "What happened?" Casey shakes her head and looks away from me again, but I force her to meet my eyes. "Casey…talk to me, baby. How did this happen?"

Casey tells me, only after encouragement. "I had just come back from lunch. I was the first one back. I got a text as I was getting out of my car, so I stood there next to the car answering the text. He – " she takes a deep breath and I have to squeeze her hand to encourage her to continue. "He came up from behind me. My head was down looking at my phone, I was distracted; didn't notice. He grabbed me and demanded right in my ear that I give him my purse and my phone. I tried to turn around, but then I felt cold metal pressing into my back."

I involuntarily shiver – it was a gun. He held a gun to Casey's back.

She's starting to cry again, but manages to finish. "I knew it was a gun, so I gave up my phone and purse; I figured he would take them and run away. And then he said he wanted my jewelry. The gold bracelet you gave me for my birthday…and my engagement ring. I started to cry and begged him to just go, but he shouted at me to stop fussing and give them up. I wouldn't. I didn't want him to take my ring or my bracelet. I managed to twist away from him and I tried to knee him in the crotch, but he pistol-whipped me before I had the chance. It shocked me – and hurt – and I stumbled and fell. He took that opportunity to remove the bracelet himself but I recovered before he could get the ring. I kept telling I wouldn't give it to him. I was pleading with him to just leave me alone. But he laughed at me and said he would shoot me if I didn't give it up. And so I did." She stops talking and bursts into tears. "I am so sorry, Alex! I know how much that must have cost you…I tried so hard to fight him off. And then he broke out the back window of my jeep and took my laptop case. It had my computer and iPad in it. I'm so sorry I let him get away."

She's shaking again and I immediately stand up and hug her. I'm crying, despite all my efforts not to. That was the scariest story I've ever heard. My heart is clenched so tightly I fear it may burst. I came close to losing Casey today. She's hurt, but it could have been much, much worse.

All these years I've lived in New York and heard about muggings, but they never happened to me or anyone I loved…until now.

"Don't apologize, Casey; it isn't your fault. These things happen, and the only person who is at fault is the perpetrator. You know well that a crime is never the victim's fault. But you shouldn't have fought him, Casey. You should have just given him your ring. It's not worth risking your life. The ring, the bracelet, the computer and iPad…those things are all replaceable. You aren't."

As I continue to comfort her, I ask myself who would do this to a sweet, caring person like Casey. Casey tries so hard to help everyone else and always feels so much compassion for others. Not long ago we were watching a segment on "20/20" about fur farms in China. It showed this awful graphic footage of dogs being skinned alive, and Casey made me turn it off and she literally cried for over an hour. So how could someone do this to her?

After a few minutes pass, Casey calms down again. Once she stops shaking and the crying subsides, I feel it's okay to release her and pull away. She gives me a sad smile and I realize her cheek is bleeding again; I've got blood on my white blazer.

"I'm okay, Alex," she says softly. "I'm sorry. I was just…scared. I always thought in a situation like that I'd be tough. But I was terrified. When he said he would shoot me, all I could think about was you. I couldn't imagine someone having to tell you what happened to me. But after I gave him my ring, I felt like I failed you."

That makes my heart break even more. "God, no!" I sit down on the table next to her. "I'm glad you gave him the ring! I'd rather have to go buy another engagement ring for you than have to sit at your funeral." I nearly choke on those words; the thought is so horrible that it actually makes me feel sick.

I pick up the towel and dab some more blood away from her cheek, and Casey winches as I do so. It looks so bad, and I'm sure it hurts. I would go find the doctor myself; but I can't bear to leave Casey.

She rests her head against me and I stroke her hair gently. "I'm okay now; really. I'm glad you're here."

"Of course," I tell her. "I broke all kinds of traffic laws getting here." And then another thought grips me, and I can barely put the words together to ask. "Did he – do anything else to you?"

Casey knows exactly what I'm asking. "No. After he broke the window and took my bag, he ran away and left me there."

I feel immense relief and once again realize this isn't nearly as bad as it could have been. Casey got lucky…we both did. She could have lost her life, and I could have mine.

Casey takes a deep breath and wipes at her eyes. Her expression suddenly changes and she says, "I – I need to call and cancel my credit cards. And my phone service; he has my phone too. Everything was in my purse; my driver's license, ATM card, Senate staff ID. I had about fifty dollars cash…"

I quickly quiet her before she gets too worked up. "Shh. It's okay; we can do that later. We'll figure it out. You need to get taken care of first."

A few seconds later the doctor comes in and cleans her wound and then starts to stich her up. I sit there holding her hand, but I can't watch. Seeing someone get stiches disturbs me. Casey is acting as if it doesn't hurt at all; but I'm sure she must feel it at least a little bit.

She still looks so sad. Even though what happened is not her fault, I know she'll never stop blaming herself.

I stifle a tear as the doctor finishes up with Casey, and silently curse the fates for doing this to us. We were in the prime of your happiness…and then taken down by this.

Why are we not allowed to be happy?

Awww...poor Casey! So what did you think? Things just can't go smoothly for them :( Do you have an opinion on what Alex should do about dress shopping - should she take Casey? Or let her mother do it? And what do you think about the mugging? How is it going to affect the wedding, and the time leading up to it? Is Casey going to always feel guilty? Please review and let me know what you think! And keep reading; only a couple chapters left before the sequel.

Next update will be this weekend or Monday.