The Last Unbroken Heart

Father Jimmy Ryan wiped down the sanctuary and tried to suppress a yawn. It had been a long day of Mass and hearing confessions, now he wanted to turn in and get some rest before he headed out to the annual priest retreat at Sacred Heart. Two long weeks of rest and relaxation while connecting to other men of the cloth, and learning more about finding inner-peace, was something that he was looking forward to.

Something caught his eye. He adjusted his glasses to get a better look. It appeared that there was a single, lone figure sitting in the second to last pew. He hesitated heading over, but a part of him was curious. After all, it was nearly midnight; who would be calling this late at night?

His slippers barely made a sound on the smooth concrete floor as he made his way to the back of the church. With their head hanging down, the man seemed to be deep in prayer. Yet, Jimmy found himself laying a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Jimmy asked kindly. Maybe it was the late night or long day that prevented him from being able to conceal his surprise when the lone figure raised his head. Dave!

"Hi Jimmy," Dave greeted wearily. Even those two words seemed to drain the energy from him—leaving his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Davey. What are you doing here?"

"Honestly, I don't know." He had left work and found himself driving around Georgetown. Not wanting to go home and face his demons, he had called Freya and told her not to make dinner. Now, six hours later, he found himself inside church, praying but not finding any peace.

"Is Emily alright?" Jimmy asked cautiously. A week ago his friend had been walking on air, now, if the red-rimmed eyes were any indicator, something drastic had happened to pull Dave's world out from under him.

"She's fine—I think. I don't know."

Jimmy looked confused. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"She left me." Now that he had said it aloud, a pain he never knew existed ripped his heart in two.

Jimmy sat down beside his friend. Now was not the time to point fingers, so he chose his words carefully. "What happened?"

"I messed up," Dave confessed.

"I doubt that it's that bad," Jimmy soothed.

"It's worse," Dave contradicted. "I lied to her."

"How?"

"Erin Strauss."

Jimmy let out his breath and leaned back against the wooden bench. Now it all made sense.

"Davy..."

"Don't you start on me too!" Dave growled. "I've been reamed by Hotch and Emily and Morgan; I don't need your two cents!"

"I wasn't going to say anything."

"Sure, you weren't."

"Davy..."

"Why not?" Dave asked rhetorically. "After all, I screwed up and lost the best things to ever happen to me because of my stupidity. I threw away a great woman for a memory. Why not just pile on?"

"That's not how I operate. That's not how my faith would allow me to act."

Dave scoffed. "Faith. What an excuse. Just give it to me straight, Jimmy. Tell me that I deserved it."

"Okay, maybe you did," Jimmy replied. The two men fell silent. For a long minute, the only sound in the sanctuary was the soft music over the hidden speakers.

Both men waited for the other to speak first. Finally, Jimmy made the first move.

"What happened, Dave?" he asked softly.

"I thought I could hide my past. All it did was come back and bite me in the ass."

"How did Emily find out?" Jimmy probed gently for answers.

"She found the letters Erin wrote me."

"I see. And that is why she left you."

"Thanks for the recap," Dave groused angrily.

"I'm just trying to put the pieces together," Jimmy defended himself. "However, I don't think this is the first time you and she have gotten to this point."

"No."

"Talk to me, Dave."

Dave wiped a tear from his cheek. "How do you want me to talk to you? As a parishioner to a priest? A lost lamb to a man of the cloth?" he asked sardonically.

"How about a friend to a friend?"

"I don't think she ever wanted to be married to me."

"And you? How did you feel about being married to Emily?" Jimmy wondered.

"At first I thought it was a cruel joke. After all, what were the odds of Emily Prentiss and myself tying knot?" Dave gave something between a snort and a laugh.

"You cared deeply about her."

"She was my partner," Dave deflected.

"She was more than a 'partner', Dave. You took her under your wing; you watched out for her."

"And I let her down when she needed me the most!" Dave argued.

"Did you? From what I remember, Emily pushed everyone away—you included. But I seem to remember that she did everything she could to save your life."

"I guess."

"You guess?! And you did everything you could to save her job. Or have you forgotten?"

"Then why?"

"Why, what? Why did you go back to Erin? Why did you marry Emily in a drunken stupor?" Jimmy asked, trying to make pieces fit in a sad, ironic kind of puzzle. "Or why did you leave the letters lying around?"

Dave stayed silent. His hands, though, were working over time. Always his biggest betrayer, he didn't try to stop his thumbs from twiddling.

"I think you know the answer, Davy," Jimmy coaxed ever so gently. His friend was hurting, but there wasn't much he could do except lend support and a good ear. He learned from experience that sometimes advice was easier to give than delivering the truth—especially when the recipient was a broken heart.

"Do you love Emily or Erin?" Jimmy asked. "If both were standing in front of you right now, which would you choose?"

Dave weighed his answer. No matter who he chose, it was going to be wrong.

"Have you thought about letting Emily go?" Jimmy asked.

Dave looked surprised by the question. "You mean give her a divorce? I thought the church frowned on divorce."

"You've had three," Jimmy pointed out matter-of-factly.

"None of them initiated by me," Dave protested. Caroline had gone behind his back and had the papers drawn up; the other two had been mutual agreements. But he had never wanted any of them.

"And only one was blessed by the Church. You and Emily weren't married in the Church. And you both entered into matrimony under false pretenses. It wouldn't even be a 'divorce', per se; more like an annulment."

"Walter has had the paperwork ready since day one," Dave said.

"So, your marriage never had a chance," Jimmy remarked sorrowfully.

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it, Davy. From Day One, you and Emily have known that divorce is right around the corner when, or if, either of you decided to give up. What kind of odds did you give yourself?"

"It's not like that," Dave returned, indignant with his friend for presuming that he set himself up for failure. "I did it for Emily."

Jimmy thought it over. "Perhaps. I think you did it for yourself. If the baby didn't exist, would you still be with Emily?"

The truth hit Dave. No.

"I just wanted to be happy. I wanted her to be happy."

"Happiness isn't something that you can just give someone—like a cold. It's something that has to come from inside of them," Jimmy counseled. "Emily had her own issues she needed to work thru; so did you."

"I think—"

"You both were the perfect storm waiting to happen."

"I wanted it to work."

"Coming from anyone else, I wouldn't believe them," Jimmy half-joked.

"It's my child too."

"I don't think Emily is heartless. She will allow you to be the father you were always meant to be."

Tears burned behind Dave's eyes. His heart screamed one thing, but his mind was telling him something else. No matter what he chose, his heart was going to be broken.

"I love her," Dave rasped.

"I know you do." Jimmy patted him on the shoulder. "Tell you what: light a candle and say a rosary. I'm sure the answer will come."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Have a little faith."

Dave's lips tried to smile but couldn't muster one. "Faith. Lord knows I'm going to need it now."
**********************

Sara looked up from her computer. A big grin broke across her face.

"Chief! It's so good to see you!"

"Good morning, Sara," Emily greeted. It had been a long weekend of crying and trying to pull herself together. Thank God for Jennifer to help her make it to the other side. "I take it that the appointments and files are piling up." She picked up the messages from the IN box and sifted through them.

"A few. I managed to reschedule your meeting with the Director and Mayor. I sent everything to your email," Sara explained in a rush. Although not a profiler, she could tell that something bad had happened to her boss. She could see the way make-up had been applied to conceal the barely visible red puffiness around Emily's eyes. And there was no denying the way her hands trembled when she picked up the messages.

"Thank you."

Sara stood up. "Can I get you some tea? Or a snack?" she offered.

Emily shook her head. "I'm fine." She picked up the file folders. "I'm going to catch up on some things before I get to my eleven o'clock."

"Sure. If you need anything..."

Emily smiled at her assistant. "You'll be the first person I call." Without another word, Emily walked into her office and closed the door.
*************

"Ahhhh..." Emily groaned as she kicked off her shoes. She had been prepared for her feet to swell during the beginning of her third trimester, but no one had mentioned how badly her feet were going to hurt. Maybe she could get a doctor's note to wear more comfortable shoes for the next few weeks.

As she picked up the phone, a knock on the door diverted her attention. Expecting Sara, Emily was surprised when Dave walked in. The profiler in her noticed the slump of his shoulders and the slow, deliberate way he walked toward her.

"Hello Dave," she greeted cordially. Her arms automatically protected her belly.

"Are you busy?" Dave asked, forgoing with the normal pleasantries.

"Have a seat." Emily gestured to the two chairs opposite of the massive desk. Dave shook his head.

"No, thank you." His eyes looked at the name plaque on her desk. "I see you're still using 'Prentiss'," he observed, his voice not betraying how he felt inside.

"The one with 'Prentiss-Rossi' never arrived," Emily explained. "Why are you here, Dave?"

"I want to say I'm sorry about the other night. Hiding those letters—rather, my not destroying them—was...selfish."

"Dave..." Emily didn't want to think about that night.

"Hear me out, Em," Dave interrupted her protest. "I made a mistake. Give me a second chance." He didn't want to beg, but everything he had was at stake. He had to make her see that they were special together.

Emily felt pity for the man who had once had her back, who she had once trusted her life with. But he had betrayed her in the worst way possible. "I'm not going back."

"Then let me be a dad to our child."

"I'm not going to deny you, Dave. I just don't want to be under the same roof while we're parenting."

"We had some good times, Em. At least enough to outweigh the bad times."

"We had good times," Emily agreed, "but there is no trust between us."

"Let me me make it up to you."

"Erin Strauss," Emily stated in a frosty tone.

"Em..."

Emily shook her head wearily. She was so tired of hearing about her predecessor. "I don't care if you slept with her and did every chapter of the 'Kama Sutra' here, in your bedroom, or in the nearby park," she said with a cold chuckle. "It's none of my business."

"Don't compartmentalize on me, Em."

"Don't call me Em."

"Let me explain."

"Agent Rossi, there is nothing to explain. You made your choice, and I made mine. What we had was...good..."

Dave raised his eyebrow at the generic term used to describe their time together. "Good?"

"It had its moments," Emily amended. "But it's over. Even if I hadn't found the letters, I knew that your heart was with her. I just wish I had known that before a third party got involved." Emily shifted in the chair, trying to take some of the strain off of her lower back.

"I have movers coming to pick up my clothes and other personal effects on Saturday," she relayed.

Dave's heart skipped a beat. "Oh?"

"I won't be there. I'm going out of town."

"Well, I'll leave the key and instructions with Freya. I'm going out of town too. Book signing in St. Louis," Dave replied. Actually, he was going to his cabin to do some fishing, but Emily didn't need to know his true destination.

"I see."

Dave reached into his coat and pulled out a yellow-coloured envelope. He tapped it on his hand. "Since there doesn't seem to be any chance at reconciliation and you are moving your things out, I guess this is just as good a time as any to deliver this." He placed the envelope on the desk.

Emily reached over, took it, opened it. "What's this?" She pulled out the numerous sheets of paper, her eyes glancing over the words.

"Our divorce papers. I contacted Walter yesterday. He sends his condolences."

A quick, pained look crossed Emily's features, before being replaced with a stoic expression. "I see." She folded the papers and stuffed them back in the envelope.

"If you sign them, Walter will have them filed within twenty-four hours. We should be free and clear of one another by the end of May, or beginning of June."

It wasn't lost on either person that the finalization of their marriage would be occurring on or around the arrival of their child.

"I'll have them signed and sent back to Walter by morning," Emily promised.

"You'll find that I was quite generous to you and Ju—the baby."

A nod was Emily's only response.

Dave stepped back. "I'll let you get back to work. If you have any questions..."

"I'll call Walter," Emily finished.

"Yeah, call Walter. I'll be seeing you, Chief Prentiss." Turning on his heel, Dave walked out of the office, closing the door soundly behind him.