Isabel tried to walk at a fast pace. It wasn't really exercise unless she was elevating her heart rate. She walked by a small brunette girl on one of the main drags and gave her a friendly, casual smile. A few seconds later, the brunette girl called out to her. "Isabel?"

She stopped and turned around, hating when her walks were interrupted. She was on the tail end of it, too. She was on her way back to Michael's. "Do I know you?" she asked impatiently.

"No. I'm Liz, Liz Parker."

Isabel shrugged, not caring. The name wasn't ringing a bell.

"I know Max."

Oh. She nodded. "Lucky you." Most girls who knew Max really . . . knew Max. He was her twin brother, so his bedroom skills were probably comparable to her own. That meant that this Liz girl had experienced the utmost sexual satisfaction.

"So you're . . . back in town," Liz remarked, clearly trying to disguise the fact that she kept looking at Isabel's stomach.

"Just got back." Isabel still had no desire to talk to this girl. She was a nobody.

"Me, too," Liz said.

"Well, then, I guess that's something we have in common." That was about enough conversation, wasn't it?

"It's just temporary for me. I'm not staying long," Liz said.

And that was where they went their separate ways. "I am." She flipped ponytail back over her shoulder and spun around. "Bye, Liz."

"Nice to meet you," Liz called.

Isabel rolled her eyes and laughed a little. Her brother never ceased to amaze her with how many naïve, idiotic college girls he could lure into his bed. This one was probably no different than the others. She probably thought she belonged with him. She was in for a rude awakening. There were certain girls in Santa Fe who just couldn't see what was right in front of their eyes. But they would.

...

"Your sister's back in town."

Max looked up from the mountain of paperwork on his desk. The shock on his face was evident upon seeing her there. "And apparently so are you," he remarked.

Liz shrugged and strode into his office. "I never left, actually. I left the hotel, got a room at the Budget Inn. That's more my price range."

"I see." He set his work aside, seemingly trying to stay calm, but the shock was still there. "Why are you still here?" he asked.

"Well, like I told you, I don't really have to work until Wednesday, so . . ."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "But why stay here?"

It wasn't for him. She didn't want him anymore. "Look, before your ego inflates, it's still not permanent," she informed him. "I'm just staying for a couple of days. I wanna help Kyle get his life back on-track." And that was the main reason. It had to be.

"Considering how off-track your own life is, that's pretty funny."

She rolled her eyes and sat down in the chair across from his desk. "You know, as crazy as it sounds, I'd like for us to try to be friends."

He frowned. "You and Kyle?"

"You and me," she clarified. "Kyle's already my friend." And since he was her friend, she owed it to him to help him. She could keep Max focused on her while Kyle and Tess rekindled their spark. It certainly helped that Isabel was back in town. Max could focus on her, too.

"And why would you want that?" Max asked.

She shrugged. "I'm through holding grudges. I wanna put you behind me." She thought about all the times he had been behind her, and the phrase took on a whole new meaning. "Figuratively," she added, just so he didn't get any wrong ideas.

"And being friends will allow you to do that?"

"Maybe." As far as she was concerned, it was worth a shot. If by the time she left Santa Fe she and Max were on good but not sexual terms and Kyle and Tess were back in a romantic mood with each other, it would be mission accomplished.

"Well, you're all about the good deeds nowadays, aren't you?" Max teased. "Fine. You're my friend." He said the last part in the most cheesy way imaginable, with a stupid smirk on his face. She had to laugh a little.

"Good," she said, rising from the chair. She walked back towards the door and stopped before she left. "You're gonna be an uncle, by the way," she told him. "Isabel's pregnant."

That same shock that had found its way to his face when she'd first stepped in the office reappeared, but for a different reason this time. She smiled and strode out of the office. Max had plenty of things to think about now, and Tess Harding wasn't one of them.

...

Maria couldn't imagine anything more awkward than cohabitating in her and Michael's apartment with Michael's pregnant ex-girlfriend, but that was exactly what she found herself doing that evening. She sat on the couch with Frank, petting him and trying not to think about anything else. But that was hard to do with Isabel roaming around, making herself perfectly at home, moaning and groaning and holding her back as though it ached. Michael was in the shower. He was taking his time. He was probably in no hurry to climb out and join the awkwardness.

Isabel sat down in a chair she seemed to have claimed as her own and placed a heat pack on her lower back. Maria watched her unsurely. She had promised to be there for Michael, but she hadn't imagined that being there for him would feel like this. She knew it would be hard, but this was harder than she had expected.

"Are you okay?" she asked Isabel.

"Yeah, my back just hurts," Isabel said, readjusting her heat pack. "That's normal during this trimester."

"And putting heat on it helps?"

"Sometimes," Isabel replied. "Maybe I can get Michael to give me a massage later."

Maria tensed possessively. "I don't think so."

"Sorry," Isabel apologized, "didn't mean to strike a nerve."

She'd stricken a whole lot of nerves already. About the only thing Maria felt when she looked at her was fury.

"You two are very close," Isabel said, leaning forward to grab a small brown book off the coffee table.

"We are," Maria agreed strongly. She and Michael were closer than close, closer than he and Isabel had ever been. Weren't they? "What's that?" she asked as Isabel opened up the book and took pulled a pen out of the spiral binding.

"A journal," Isabel replied. "I have a friend back in Florida who was pregnant. She said it's a good idea for pregnant women to jot down all their thoughts in a journal. Helps you stay calm. Plus, it's a good way to revel in the emotions of carrying this life inside you." She rubbed her stomach and smiled at Maria.

"That's nice."

"It is," Isabel agreed. "Right now, I feel like writing about the first time I met Michael." Her eyes took on a sort of dreamy gleam as she remembered it. "Freshman year. I was sitting outside the Student Union by the fountains, you know, trying to get a late summer tan. Michael sat down beside me. Not right beside me, but a little ways away. I watched him open up some kind of art book and start reading. He kept trying not to look at me out of the corner of his eye, but it was obvious. I thought he was adorable. So eventually I got up and went over to talk to him. We sat there for two hours that day, just getting to know each other. I got so sunburned." She smiled fondly and proclaimed, "We haven't been apart since."

Maria grunted in disbelief. "Yes, you have." As though recalling that entire story wasn't inconsiderate enough, telling that lie was inconceivable.

"Well, I mean, there was that little intermission from July until now, but other than that . . ." Isabel trailed off, still smiling.

"Yeah, but during that 'little intermission,' Michael was heartbroken," Maria informed her. "You left him so devastated that, for awhile there, he barely left his apartment except to go to class and go to work. He wouldn't even talk to anyone about it. He was just going through the motions, thinking about how much he missed you. That's all he could do."

"Oh, Maria." Isabel tilted her head to the side and looked her up and down. "I'm sure he did other things."

"It took him time and a lot of effort for him to get over you, but eventually he did. And for you to just waltz back in here like nothing happened . . ." She shook her head in disbelief. She hated this girl. Hated her. "You don't even care, do you?" she realized. "You don't even care that you hurt him."

"Of course I care," Isabel said, closing her journal. "I'm not heartless."

"Gotta disagree with you on that."

"I made a mistake; I'm not disputing that," Isabel acknowledged. "But I've changed."

"Oh, infidelity changed you?"

"No, impending motherhood did." Isabel huffed. "God, what was I supposed to do, deny my child's father the chance to raise him? Or her. I couldn't do that."

Maybe it was horrible, but Maria wished she had.

"Look, I'm sorry I destroyed your perfect utopian life," Isabel said, "but you'd best get used to me. I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna be a mom, and Michael's gonna be a dad." She looked at Maria with noticeable contempt and said, "I guess that'll make you the stepmom."

Maria bristled. Stepmom?

"What's going on here?" Michael asked as he came out into the living room. His hair was wet. He was all dressed, though.

"Nothing," Isabel answered, reopening her journal. "I was just telling Maria about this."

Michael made a face. "You keep a journal now?"

"Hey, don't scoff. It's a pregnancy journal," she told him. "It's therapeutic."

"Oh." Michael nodded in understanding. "Sounds like you're doing everything you need to."

"Oh, I am."

Maria couldn't take any more of this. She had tried. She really had. Maybe she just needed more time to adjust. She couldn't handle this yet. "I think I'm gonna go," she said, setting Frank aside as she rose to her feet. She grabbed her car keys off the arm of the couch and quickly headed for the door.

"What? Maria, no," Michael said, following her. He grabbed her arm and stopped her. "You live here."

"Everyone does nowadays," Maria grumbled.

"No, this is just-"

"Michael, I can't stay here," she blurted.

"Why not?"

She cast a sideways glance at Isabel and saw her grinning. "I just can't," she said simply. Maybe leaving was making Isabel think that she was winning, but she wasn't. Not really.

"Well, I'll put her up in a hotel," Michael decided. "I've got the money."

"Except you should be saving that money, Michael," Isabel piped up. "Babies are expensive. Plus, you've got this funny-looking dog now. He costs money, too."

Michael pressed his lips together to keep from saying anything. He looked like he was pissed at her, too. Good.

"I'll just crash with Tess again tonight," Maria decided. "She won't mind."

"Maria . . ."

"It's fine," she assured him. This was the simplest solution. They could figure out a more permanent solution tomorrow. She stood on her tip-toes and gave him a peck on the cheek. It felt strange to kiss him with Isabel in the room.

"Bye, Maria," Isabel said. "It was nice talking to you."

Maria rolled her eyes and walked out of the apartment.

"Wait, Maria," Michael said, following her out once again. He shut the door and asked, "Is everything okay?"

Nothing was okay.

"I mean, with us," he clarified.

Even they weren't okay. "Just don't worry," she told him. Stress was bad for a pregnant mother, but it couldn't be good for a soon-to-be father, either. "This isn't a big deal."

"Everything about my life right now is a big deal," he said.

"I know. But it'll be better for all of us if I'm not here right now." If she stayed, she was just going to lay into Isabel so hard that she'd make herself look bad. "I'll see you tomorrow." She started away yet again, but yet again he stopped her.

"Maria." He grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him so that he could kiss her, a real kiss, on the lips. Even with Isabel on the other side of the door . . . it felt different.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she repeated, slinking away. He didn't come after her this time.

...

Even though Tess had plenty of homework to do, Maria appreciated the fact that she tried to keep her entertained. She broke out dozens of old home videos, most of them filmed by her father, and sat Maria down on the living room floor with popcorn and ice cream to watch them.

"My god, look at those tutus," Tess remarked, staring at the television screen in horror. They were watching a videotape of their very first dance recital. The tutus were green and frilly. "What were we thinking? Well, I guess we weren't having many fashion thoughts at the ripe old age of four. Plus, if I remember correctly, we didn't pick those out. The other girls did. We voted against them." She laughed a little and continued watching. "We were totally the best dancers in the class. And the cutest, too. Everyone was watching us."

Maria's eyes were on the screen, but she wasn't really watching. She set the bowl of popcorn Tess had given her aside and crawled up onto the couch to curl up under a blanket.

"What's wrong?" Tess asked, pausing the tape. "Were the tutus too much?"

"It's just . . . seeing us as kids reminds me that Michael's gonna have a kid of his own soon," she explained.

"Oh. Doesn't everything remind you of that right now?"

"Pretty much." She swallowed hard, holding the tears inside. "I'm worried, Tess," she said. "I love Michael; I do, but . . . what if love isn't enough?"

"Oh, Maria." Tess shut the VCR off and came to sit beside her. "You can't just give up now." She reached out to stroke Maria's hair.

Maria jerked away. "No, you don't understand how hard this is." How could she? Kyle hadn't impregnated someone else. "I thought she was gone forever, and now all of a sudden, she's walking around my apartment, eating my food, sleeping in my bed, wearing my clothes . . ."

"She's wearing your clothes?" Tess echoed.

"No, but she was looking at them like she wants to wear them. As though she could even fit in them under normal circumstances."

Tess laughed a little. "Well, maybe it would help if she was . . . elsewhere."

"Like back in Florida?" There was a nice thought.

"Just not in your guys' apartment."

Maria sighed heavily. "Michael offered to get her a hotel room, but . . ." She shook her head. "I don't know. I don't really see how that would help a whole lot."

"Well, you guys wouldn't have to deal with her as much."

"But we'd still have to deal with her. A lot. Especially Michael."

Tess opened her mouth to say something but stopped herself as realization seemed to dawn on her. "Oh, Maria, you don't have to worry about that," she assured her. "Michael loves you."

"And he used to love her. I've just gotta face it, Tess: From here on out, Isabel's always gonna have a part of Michael I just can't touch."

"No, no, I'm sure he'll want you to be a part of this kid's life," Tess interjected.

"Well, that's another concern. Stepmom Maria . . ." She made a sound of distress in the back of her throat. "I didn't sign up for this."

"Well . . . nobody did. It's a lot to deal with, I know. There's gonna be a lot of change."

Maria shot a look at her. "Last night you said nothing was gonna change."

"Okay, so I lied," Tess admitted. "Pretty much everything's gonna change on some level, but some of the changes might be good, you know? I mean, if you and Michael can stick together through this entire ordeal, you're gonna emerge from it stronger and more committed than ever. And I know Stepmom Maria might not be a role you're looking forward to, but if that happens someday, you'll be the best at it; and you'll probably love it. And Michael's gonna be a great father to this baby and a great father to all the babies he's gonna have with you someday."

Babies of her own were something Maria couldn't even fathom at this point in her life. "Great, so he and Isabel and I can have this big blended family. Can't wait."

"Hey, don't insult the blended family. If our parents tie the knot someday, that's what we'll be," Tess pointed out, motioning between the two of them.

"Yeah, but there's only two of them. That's better than three," Maria said. "Three's an odd number."

Tess looked at her so sympathetically. "Okay, with all this change that's occurring, you have to know the one thing that's never gonna change is the way Michael feels about you," she said. "Sure, he wants to be a great father, as he should, and to do that, he's gonna have to have some sort of relationship with Isabel."

Maria winced, hating the thought.

"But you're the one he wants," Tess went on. "You're the one he loves." She smiled reassuringly. "He'll never leave you."

Maria had a feeling that much was true. Michael would never leave. At least not completely.

...

Max was relieved when his father's lawyers finally called and told him they were ready to read the will. He'd been sitting in his office all day, trying to get some work done, trying to micromanage what everyone else was doing, but he still wasn't even sure if he had a place in the company anymore. He wanted to know what was in that will now.

"No, that's great news," Max said to the lawyer on the phone. "I'll be right there." He closed his phone and slipped it into his pocket, grumbling, "About damn time," as he stacked up the loose paperwork on his desk.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my brother the businessman."

He glanced up and saw his sister standing in the doorway to his office, grinning at him. It had been a long time since he'd seen her or spoken to her. Isabel had effectively cut off all her ties when she'd left town. Now she was back, and she was absolutely huge.

"If it isn't my long-lost sister," he returned. "Plus one."

She smiled and placed one hand on her rounded stomach. "Hmm."

"Didn't think I'd ever see you again," he admitted.

"Well, you almost didn't. Come here."

He made his way over to her and tried to hug her, but her belly made it hard to get close enough.

She laughed light. "It's a little harder to hug me now, isn't it?"

"Just a little." He ushered her inside his office and shut the door. "Sit down, please." He pulled out a chair for her, and she took a seat. He sat down in his desk chair and momentarily put the reading of the will out of his mind. His sister was back. His twin sister was back. He had to make that a priority. "I heard you were back in town," he said.

"Really? Who told you that?" she asked. "Michael? Maria? One of their lame-o friends?"

"This girl . . . you wouldn't know her."

"Liz?"

He raised a surprised eyebrow. "Or maybe you would."

She smirked. "I know more than you think I do, Max. No, actually, I met her yesterday on my half-hour walk. I walk now. For exercise."

"Interesting."

"So Liz said she knew you. Conquest?"

Liz was . . . more than that. "Biggest."

"Nice. It's good to know at least some things haven't changed. You're still a womanizing jerk, and this company's still the only thing you care about."

"Yep." He nodded as convincingly as he could. "It's the only thing."

Isabel narrowed her eyes and studied him. "Unless it's not." She leaned forward slightly, looking astonished. "Oh my god. You fell in love with that girl?"

He rolled his eyes, wishing Isabel weren't so damn perceptive.

She grunted. "Who died and made you human? I didn't even know that was possible. She is pretty, if you go for that sort of thing. Not prettier than me, but few people are."

"Shouldn't we be talking solely about you right now?" he said, eager to divert the conversation away from his own twisted life. "You're the one who's knocked up."

"Fill me in first. Last I knew, you were with Tess Harding. She was gonna live unhappily ever after with you. What gives?"

He shrugged. "Things change. People change, as you know."

"Don't change the subject, Max. What's the deal with you and Liz?"

He sighed heavily. What was the deal? There was no deal, just a long, drawn-out, complicated story. He decided to give her the abridged version. "I took her virginity last year while Tess and I were on hiatus, tossed her aside when Tess and I got back together. Eventually we started up an affair, got caught on Christmas. We tried dating, but I ended up choosing this company over her. And now she wants us to be friends."

"Wow," Isabel said. "What a romantic love story."

"Hey, you're one to talk."

"I know." She smoothed her hand over her stomach and confessed, "Child-bearing at the age of twenty-one wasn't exactly something I had in mind, but . . . everything works out the way it's supposed to, right?"

He hoped so. If that was true, he'd have complete control over the Evans Hotel company in a matter of minutes. "Whose is it?" he couldn't help but ask. "Or do you even know?"

"It's Michael's," she replied simply.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

He grinned, skeptical. "You're an Evans. You're probably lying."

"I'm not, but I don't blame people for thinking I am. Why would I lie to you, though? You're the one person in this town who doesn't hate me."

That was a good point. If Isabel was carrying someone else's kid, she'd probably just tell him so they could plot and scheme together. "So who was that guy in Florida you were with?" he asked. "What was his name?"

"Alex."

"Alex. He was rich, right? Too bad it's not his kid."

"Yeah, that's too bad," she agreed. "Oh, well. Can't have it all, right?"

He nodded. He couldn't have his career and Liz, at least not when his father had been in control of things. "I really believe that."

They sat in silence for a moment before Isabel piped up with a completely different topic to discuss. "Oh, hey, we should probably mention that Dad died."

"Oh, yeah. That was . . ."

"A shock?" she filled in.

"A relief," he corrected. "How'd you hear about it?"

She shrugged. "Newspaper. Internet. Everywhere. I don't get it. I thought you and Dad liked each other."

"Only half the time."

Isabel shook her head. "No, you idolized him."

Max swallowed hard. "Doesn't mean I wanna be like him."

"That's what idolization is, Max."

"Then I didn't idolize him." He refused to.

"Don't lose your edge, Max," she cautioned. "You're gonna need it to run this business."

"I don't even know if I'll be the one running it anymore," he said. "I'm on my way to find out."

She frowned confusedly. "What do you mean?"

He let out a heavy, frustrated sigh. "Dad was attempting to have his will changed when he died. If those changes went through . . ." He shook his head, knowing how bad this could be. It could spell doom for his future. "We weren't on the best of terms."

"Oh. That sucks."

"Yeah." That was an understatement. "They're reading the will today. You should come along."

"Why? I already know he didn't leave me anything."

Max shrugged. "You never know." He highly doubted that Phillip had left anything to his daughter, or his wife or any other female for that matter. But stranger things had happened. "Maybe he had a change of heart."

"Dad didn't have a heart, Max."

"He had a heart attack."

"Still . . ." She shook her head. "He didn't have a heart."

I have a heart, Max thought. Somewhere. "Come on," he said, standing up. He held out his hand for Isabel and helped her to her feet. "I'll catch you up on more of the soap opera drama you missed while you were gone."

"There's more?" she asked as they walked out of the office.

"There's always more. Tess hooked up with Kyle Valenti. Did I tell you that?"

"Kyle Valenti?" She tossed her head back and laughed disbelievingly. "Now I know you're making stuff up."

"I'm an Evans."

"You're probably lying."

"Believe it or not . . ." He placed his hand on her shoulders and escorted her to the elevator. "I'm telling the truth."

...

Michael sat in his painting class that day, struggling to concentrate. Most of the time in that class, they actually painted. Today was a rare lecture day, and it was the worst day to be bored. He was bored. More than that, he was tired. He hadn't gotten a good night's sleep for two nights now, and he really needed some quality rest soon. He felt so stressed out. He'd never been so stressed out before. For a long time, he'd believed that nothing could feel worse than Isabel leaving town. Now he knew it felt far worse to have her back.

He had just begun to fall asleep in his lecture seat when the class let out. Kyle nudged him to wake him up. He collected his stuff, contemplating going home for awhile. It wasn't going to be any less stressful there, though. Class was at least somewhat of a distraction.

"Wow, that was riveting," Kyle said as she slung his backpack over his shoulders. "Just laid out everything we need to know for the midterm."

Michael hadn't even paid attention.

"What's it like where you're at?"

"Depressing," he replied.

"I figured as much." They slid out of their row of the lecture hall and headed down the steps towards he exit. "Hey, I'll give you a copy of my notes," Kyle told him. "We can study together."

Michael grunted. "What's the point? I probably won't even have a senior year."

"What?" Kyle made a face as they headed out into the crowded hallway. "Why wouldn't you?"

"Kid on the way, remember?"

"You can't have both?"

"I don't know." He was constantly trying to figure it out, trying to figure out just how much his life was going to change once that baby showed up. "I'm gonna have to get a full-time job, or at least two part-time jobs. Isabel doesn't work."

"Does she even take classes anymore?" Kyle asked, leading the way outside.

"Not anymore." Michael squinted against the bright sunlight. It was a nice day, but his disposition was anything but sunny.

"Well, at least you won't have to hire a babysitter," Kyle said. "You'll work, you'll go to school, and you'll . . . raise a kid."

That didn't sound too hectic. That didn't sound too hectic at all. "And the little slice of my life that's still mine? What do I do then, take Maria out on a date?" He shook his head angrily. Yeah, he was pissed.

"No one said it's gonna be easy," Kyle said as they trudged down the sidewalk to the commuter parking lot. "Have you told your parents yet?"

Michael shook his head. "Not yet." He was sort of dreading that. They'd be so disappointed in him.

"Well, I'm sure they'll help you out, financially and emotionally. And I'll help. And Maria-"

"Maria can't even stand being around Isabel right now," Michael cut in.

"Dude." Kyle stepped in front of him, stopping him suddenly. He looked worried.

"What?"

"You guys gotta make sure you're communicating right now. Communication is the key."

"We communicate," Michael insisted.

"Really? I thought you said she bunked with Tess last night. Again."

Michael sighed and reluctantly admitted, "She did. She has every right to be freaked out right now."

"Exactly, so what you need to do is-"

"I need to do everything, don't I?" Michael began to rant. "I need to be a father and a boyfriend and a son and a decent student and an employee, and what if I can't cut it? What if I just . . . can't?"

"No, you can't think like that."

"You don't know what it's like, okay?" Michael snapped. It was so easy for people to stand there and give him advice, because they weren't in his position. "You don't know what it's like to be expecting a kid with your ex-girlfriend."

"No, but I do know what it's like to lose the girl I love," Kyle pointed out. "And this is how it starts; you stop communicating. And the farther apart you get, the harder it is to stay together. You're gonna lose her, just like I lost Tess."

That was the last thing Michael wanted. He needed Maria.

"Unless you fight like hell to keep her close."

He wasn't sure how much fight he had left in him, but for Maria . . . he'd never let her go, not if he could help it. "I think I'm gonna skip my afternoon class," he said, deciding it was unimportant in the scheme of things.

"Yeah," Kyle agreed, "good idea."

...

"Well, that was like a surprise, only expected."

Max left the reading of the will feeling . . . relieved. And somewhat terrified. Because now he was the one with all the power. All of it. "I'm glad that's over with," he said.

Isabel walked with him back to his office and followed him inside. "So, how does it feel to be in charge of the Evans hotel company at last?" she asked.

"Good," he replied. He leaned back against his desk and picked up a pen, twirling it around in his hand. Yeah, it felt really good. "It's what I've always wanted."

"Me, too," Isabel said. "Kidding. Sort of." She smirked and stood before him, folding her arms over her chest.

"I wonder," Max said, "if he had gotten the will changed, who would've gotten the company? Maybe you."

She rolled her eyes. "Doubtful. Although, I'm not gonna lie, I did get my hopes up when the lawyer did that drawn-out, dramatic pause." She laughed a little. "Oh, well. Mom and I are used to being at the mercy of men. We don't have penises, so God forbid we have brains or aspirations."

"Dad was always a bit of a male-chauvinist, wasn't he?"

"A bit?" Isabel huffed. "That was his whole persona. And you're one to talk. You're not exactly an advocate of female empowerment."

"No," Max acknowledged, "but if I were him, I would've left you at least twenty bucks. Something."

"Twenty bucks." Isabel nodded. "I'd take it. That buys a whole lot of condoms."

Max chuckled. "You could've used some of those a couple months ago."

"I can use 'em after I get this bun out of my oven," she pointed out.

"With who? Michael?"

She blushed. "Maybe."

"Good luck." He didn't doubt his sister's deviousness, but there were certain feats that were just impossible. This was one of them. "He and Maria are air-tight. He'd be crazy to give her up."

"I thought you hated Maria."

"I do, but she's a fantastic fuck. Like I said, he'd be crazy."

Isabel raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "And you know this because . . .?"

"Well, I fucked her. Took advantage of her, actually," he confessed casually.

Isabel grinned. "Nice."

Max was taken aback for a moment. Apparently Isabel wasn't quite an advocate for female empowerment, either. Why would she say something like that? Even he knew it was wrong. "No," he said. "I did a horrible thing. I've done lots of horrible things." He wasn't looking for forgiveness, but his actions certainly didn't merit glorification.

"Just like Dad," Isabel remarked.

"I'm not like Dad." Ending up like his father was quickly becoming one of his worst fears. His only fear, perhaps.

"No, you're not," Isabel agreed. "But you will be." She spun on her heel and walked out of his office without another word. Max stood there, gripping the pen in his hand tightly with his fingers. He'd just gotten everything he'd ever wanted in life. So why didn't it feel better?

...

Isabel returned to Michael's apartment late that afternoon. It really was a nice apartment. Back when they'd been dating, she hadn't officially lived with him, but they'd talked about moving in together. She could see herself living there. It wasn't big enough for three grown adults, though. It would probably be big enough for two and a baby.

"Where have you been all day?"

She set her purse down on the arm of the couch and startled a bit as Michael walked out of his bedroom. He looked . . . well, he looked the same way he had looked since she had come back: worried. But oh-so handsome. The frown lines on his forehead were getting increasingly deeper, though. He was going to have to stop frowning one of these days or he'd wrinkle.

"Well, I was out helping this creepy guy find his dog, and then I took candy from strangers," she joked in response. He was going to make a great father. He had the whole protective, inquisitive thing down. "I went to see my brother," she told him as she removed her coat and draped it on the back of one of the living room chairs, "which is almost as risky."

"Really?"

"No. Max and I have always gotten along really well. I trust him. He understands me. He knows that sometimes you have to fight for what you want." She looked him right in the eye as she said that, fully intent on fighting for everything she wanted, including him.

"I get that," Michael said, burying his hands in his pockets. He looked nervous. Dear, sweet, nervous Michael.

"I actually picked the right day to visit him," she went on. "They were reading my father's will."

"Were they?"

"Yeah. Suckfest is, I didn't get anything, but that's no shock." She traipsed into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator door. Damn, no kiwi. Kiwi was her biggest pregnancy food craving. She shut the door again and went on talking. "Nope, Max has it all. House, cars, money, company . . . talk about having your hands full. Too full, I think, but we'll see how he does." In her mind, her father was an idiot. He would have been much smarter to split up his fortune.

"I'm sorry about his death, by the way," Michael put in.

She grunted. "Why? I'm not." She ran her hand over the countertop, talking to herself as she circled around the counter. "He got what was coming to him. We all do in the end. I'm just glad his end was sooner rather than later. Grandpa Evans would've left a lot to be desired, don't you think?" She glanced up at Michael and stopped in front of him, drumming her fingertips on the counter. "You know, that man lived his whole life ignoring the fact that women can do everything men can do, and most of the time, they do it better." She smirked. "No offense to your gender or anything."

"None taken," he said.

"His biggest disappointment in life was that he had a son and a daughter instead of two sons." She shook her head in contempt and growled, "Prick."

"Isabel . . ."

"I hope you'll be happy with whatever we end up with. Boy. Girl. Whichever."

"Of course," he assured her.

"Good." She had a feeling it was going to be a boy, and Michael would make sure he grew up to be a nice, respectable guy. And she would make sure he grew up to be a fighter. "Well, then, enough of my rant." She placed one hand on her back and winced. The aches and pains of pregnancy were by far one of the most annoying parts. "Wanna give me a massage?"

He looked taken aback but answered relatively quickly. "No, um . . ."

She pouted. Massages were good during pregnancy. She'd read about it.

"Look, Isabel, we have to do something about these living arrangements. I'm sorry, I don't mean to spring this on you."

"It's not sprung," she assured him, although it sort of was. Would he really make her leave? She was pregnant, and he was Michael.

"I'm not trying to kick you out," he said. "I'm just trying to-"

"Kick me out?" she filled in, figuring this to be Maria's idea. She'd probably threatened to withhold sex if Michael didn't make her leave. Of course, Michael probably wasn't in the mood to have sex. Regardless, it was Maria's idea. Had to be. Michael was way too nice to make her leave unless some stupid bitch implanted the idea in his head.

"Yes. No. No," he stuttered. "It's just . . . I live here, and Maria lives here. And it's a one-bedroom apartment, so there really isn't room for three of us here. And it's awkward for three of us here."

She grunted. She didn't think it was awkward at all. Maybe it was for him and Maria, but she was having a pretty damn good time.

"So I'm gonna go ahead and get you a hotel room," he said decidedly. "I know it's gonna cost money, but I have money. I'll make it work."

She had no doubt about that, but she still didn't want to leave.

"And maybe someday we can find an apartment for you," he suggested. "Lots of places start leasing around this time of year, so it's . . . it's good timing. Really good. Maybe we could find a studio apartment. They're cheap. A nice one, of course, but an inexpensive one."

"I see." Typical Michael. He had it all planned out. When was he going to realize that you couldn't plan life? You had to roll with the punches. She was an expert at that.

"Now don't worry, I'm gonna be here for you throughout the remainder of this pregnancy," he promised, "and after the baby's born . . . I'm not going anywhere."

Of course he wasn't.

"I wanna be a part of this kid's life. I'm not gonna leave you to fend for yourself. But I gotta think about me and Maria, too. She's a priority just like this child is."

Even though Isabel wanted to shout at the top of her lungs just how unimportant and insignificant Maria DeLuca was, she knew she couldn't do that. So she bit her tongue, smiled, and pretended to be nice and agreeable. "I totally respect that. And I understand."

"You do?"

"Yeah. If my relationship was on thin ice, I'd be worried, too."

"What? On thin ice?" he echoed, making a face. "No, Maria and I aren't . . . we're not—we're not on thin ice. We're on no ice really. We're fine."

"Oh, I know." If you say so, gorgeous. "I just mean, sometimes when things change so drastically, it's hard to stay together. But if you and Maria are as destined as you seem, this whole pregnancy thing won't even be a factor. Right?"

He shifted from side to side, looking suddenly uncomfortable, and looked down at his feet. "Right," he mumbled in agreement. "Not a factor."

She smiled, giving herself a mental pat on the back. I am so good. "Actually, I anticipated this," she said. "Kinda sensed I'd worn out my welcome, so I talked to Max. He agreed to get me a room free of charge."

Michael nodded. "Oh, that's . . . are you sure you wanna rely on him?"

She shrugged. "I'm fine with it. He's my brother, and it's his first good deed . . . well, ever. But it's also his first good deed as an uncle. I should probably make him feel useful." She took a few steps towards him and said, "I understand why it makes you feel uncomfortable, though, considering what he did to Maria."

Michael visibly tensed and looked away.

"Yeah, he told me about that," she went on. Personally, she thought it was hilarious. Maria was a slut, so getting taken advantage of? Not exactly something she didn't bring on herself. "I think that is so wrong," she said to Michael, knowing he wouldn't take kindly to her honest thoughts. "I'll apologize on his behalf." And then I'll laugh inwardly, she thought, resisting the urge to smile.

He backed away from her slightly and said, "Okay, if you're sure this is what you want . . ."

It wasn't what she wanted, but it would do . . . for now.

"Thank you for understanding."

She allowed her smile to show through, but kept the mischief that accompanied it hidden. "No problem. The last thing I wanna do is ruin what you've got going here." She had him so fooled, and she loved that. "Um, would you be willing to go pack up my stuff?" she asked, motioning towards the bedroom. "My back's all achy."

"Sure." He trudged down the hallway, and she kept her smile in place until he was out of sight. Then she let the inevitable frown take its place. This was one of those times when she was going to have to roll with the punches, because this wasn't part of her plan. But she'd make it work. She always did.

She picked up her coat off the back of the chair and reached into the pocket for her cell phone. She quickly dialed Max's personal number and kept glancing down the hallway to make sure Michael couldn't see what she was doing. Max picked up on the third ring.

"Hey, little brother," she said. "I need a hotel room."

...

Tess couldn't believe her eyes. She was on her way to the library to meet with a study group for her biology midterm when she saw an all too familiar figure standing outside the tutoring center. Liz Parker. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Tess sighed heavily and veered off her course to the library to approach Liz. She didn't even bother saying hello. She still hated that girl with a fiery passion, so she came right out and asked, "What're you doing here?"

Liz looked at her in surprise. "Hi, Tess."

"You're back in town?"

Liz hesitated before replying. "No. Only temporarily."

"Temporarily?" Tess didn't buy that for an instant.

"Maybe a little while longer," Liz confessed. "I miss college. I was thinking I might be able to get my job back at the tutoring center."

"Oh, yeah, 'cause you were such a great tutor," Tess snapped. There was a reason why she was suffering through the agony of another biology midterm, because last semester's hadn't gone so well.

"I won't be so distracted this time," Liz promised. "I really have changed."

Tess made a face. "No, you haven't. I can tell. Here you are, putting on the goody two-shoes act when we all know it's just that, an act. If you had any semblance of sense, you'd stay away from here. It's like a hurricane of drama right now. You don't wanna get swept up in it. Or, knowing you, maybe you do."

"God, Tess, wanna tone down the hostility?" Liz suggested. "I realize you don't like me, but do you have to be so blatant about it?"

Normally, Tess tried not to be such an outright bitch, but she was in a bad mood. "Yes." She had been ever since she and Kyle had ended things. Nothing was going right for her, and now nothing was going right for her best friend, either. There were no smiley faces to be shown.

Liz let out a heavy breath and returned to gazing at the tutoring center. "I'm not coming back for Max, if that's what you're thinking," she said.

"Oh, that's exactly what I'm thinking. I told you, Liz, you're not fooling anyone."

"I'm back for Kyle," Liz said, casting a sideways glance at her.

Tess bristled. "What?" What did that mean?

Liz smiled a little. "Not like that, but that's a good reaction for you to have. It shows you still care about him. I guess you could say I'm here for you, too."

"For me?" Now it was just getting laughable. "Please. You hate me."

"I dislike you, Tess. I don't hate you. But I love Kyle, in the way you love a lifelong friend. And he loves you."

Tess frowned and averted her eyes. She didn't need to be reminded of that. It hurt too much to think about everything she'd lost.

"I just wanna make sure Max doesn't get in the way of your guys' happy ending," Liz explained. "That's why I'm here."

Tess narrowed her eyes at the complex girl, still doubting it. "Gosh. You're so selfless."

"I'm just trying-"

"You're trying to justify your decision to come back here, and . . . I can't say I blame you," Tess cut in. "I would, too. And maybe a small part of you is here for me and Kyle, but in the grand scheme of things . . . you know why you're here."

Liz tensed up and didn't say anything. She suddenly looked . . . very afraid. Tess almost felt bad for her. Almost. Being in love with Max Evans was often a terrifying, horrible thing. She knew this, and she hadn't ever really loved him, not the way Liz did.

"How's Maria doing?" Liz asked, changing the topic abruptly. "I mean, with this whole pregnant Isabel thing."

"She's hurting. She's dealing," Tess replied. "We all are. Everything kind of sucks right now. Hurricane of drama, remember?"

Liz smiled a little. "Yeah."

"But Maria said Michael finally got Isabel to go to a hotel, so . . ." She shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe things are looking up." She certainly hoped they were. She wasn't sure how much more pain, shock, and heartbreak any of them could take.

...

Maria lay on the couch with Michael that evening, in front of him. He had his arms around her, and they were both curled up against the left arm of the couch, beneath blankets. Maria thought she should feel warmer.

"This is nice," he said, smoothing one of his hands over her thigh. "Just the two of us." He pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head.

She stared straight ahead at the television screen and didn't say anything. Yeah, it was just the two of them, but in a way . . . it still wasn't.

"Kinda feels like old times, don't you think?" he asked, obviously just trying to elicit some kind of response.

Old times? she thought. Old times weren't like this. Old times seemed very far away, but she remembered being happy and not having a care in the world and feeling like everything was going to work out no matter what. She didn't feel that way anymore. "Kind of," she mumbled, wishing she didn't feel . . . uncomfortable. This was Michael, and this was her, and this was their place. And they sat together on the couch like this all the time. All the time. He held her in his arms every day. But it usually felt . . . better.

"See, not everything's gonna change," Michael practically whispered, nuzzling his face against her neck. He was being so affectionate. In that moment, with everything that was going on, it was too much.

"Uh . . ." She untangled herself from him and stood up, needing a little space. "I'm gonna go take a shower."

"Are you sure? Family Guy's on. That's your favorite show."

"Yeah . . ." She looked at the TV screen, knowing she was just too worked up to focus or even pretend to focus on stupid humor right now. "But I've seen this episode like a thousand times. I just really need to be . . ." Alone, she thought, feeling guilty. Michael needed her. He needed her to be there for him. "Clean." She sulked down the hallway into the bathroom and shut the door. She stood there in the dark for a moment, trying to take deep, even breaths. Nothing was making her feel any better.

She turned on the light and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked tired. She felt tired, too. There were bags under her eyes, and her skin was all blotchy. Isabel looked prettier than she did right now. She had the whole pregnancy glow working in her favor.

Maria had just reached down to grab the hem of her shirt and was about to pull it over her head when the door to the bathroom opened and Michael poked his head inside.

"Hey," he said. "Mind if I join you?"

She didn't know what to say.

They stood together in the shower beneath a steady stream of running water a few minutes later, facing each other. Michael kept touching her shoulders and smoothing his hands down her arms. She placed her hands on his sides and didn't move them. She bent her head downward and kept her eyes focused on his naked chest, not his face or . . . any other part of him.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and lowered his arms to wrap around her waist and pull her in closer to him. She stiffened despite her desire not to. Something was wrong here. Usually she and Michael were so fluid together, just like the water they were standing under. But this didn't feel right.

He splayed his large hands against the small of her back, and she felt him gazing down at her, just gazing, expecting her to lift up her head and look him in the eye. But she didn't. She couldn't.

I wonder if he and Isabel made that baby in this shower, she thought, and it was a horrible, disgusting thought, one she didn't at all want to be thinking. Or maybe it was in the bed. That was even worse.

He brought one hand up to stroke her wet hair, and she flashed back to being in the pool with him, the night they had first had sex together. They had been soaked with water, just like this, but things had been simpler. And nicer.

She pressed her left cheek against his chest and felt his heart beating. One thud after another, it was pounding almost as quickly as hers. He probably thought they were going to . . . but how could they do that right now? Wasn't sex what had gotten him into this mess in the first place?

He held her against him for awhile, running one hand up and down her spine. Then, slowly, he placed his other hand beneath her chin, urging her to look up at him. She tried to keep her eyes downcast, but that didn't feel right, so she gazed at him. It was a good thing they were in the shower, because there was no possibly way he could distinguish her tears from the rest of the water. She wasn't sure how the tears had formed so quickly anyway. All of a sudden, they were just there.

He smiled at her, just a small, encouraging smile. It was enough to wordlessly communicate his desire. He probably didn't even want to have sex, though. Not really. He probably just felt like he should want to have sex. Or maybe he just wanted to feel close to her. They were close, under normal circumstances.

He bent forward and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to her lips. It felt . . . sort of off, though, full of uncertainty. She kissed him back as best she could, but she didn't want to do this. Not now. How could anyone do this knowing just how huge of a consequence it could have? Pregnancy, even though it wasn't her pregnancy, definitely ruined the mood.

He began to kiss her more insistently, but it wasn't until she felt his cock pressing into her stomach that her eyes shot open in alarm. She knew she couldn't let this happen. It just didn't feel right, and it had always felt right before.

She tore her lips away and took a step back, lowering her head. Hell must have been freezing over, because her turning down sex? That never happened.

"Tired," was all she could say, and at least it wasn't a lie. She was exhausted now.

"Oh." He sounded disappointed, but in a way, relieved.

She looked at him apologetically, then slid open the door and stepped out of the shower. She grabbed a towel from the towel rack and wrapped it around herself, tucking it in beneath her arms. A few days ago, she and Michael would have had a great time in that shower. And in the bedroom and in the kitchen and . . . everywhere else.

He turned off the water and stepped out alongside her, wrapping a towel around his waist. "Is everything okay?" he asked her.

Nothing was okay. Everything was a disaster. He had to know that. He was trying to sugarcoat it, trying to assure her that nothing would change when, in reality, a lot of things had already changed.

She nodded unconvincingly and slipped out of the bathroom. Tears joined the water tracks on her face. That was the first cold shower she and Michael had ever taken together.