I wake easily the next morning, quickly checking my phone to see if Sid called or texted. He did neither. I guess it's been less than twelve hours, he's going to need more time than that to decide. If he decides to do it. If he decides he doesn't want this now, with me, then I'll probably hear from him much sooner. Suddenly my phone is the enemy and I clamber out of bed, anxious to get as far from it as possible.

The warm shower wakes me up completely, and I do my best to focus on the day ahead instead of obsessing about Sidney and what his decision will be. It's an impossible task, but what choice do I have? It's Friday, which thankfully means a shorter work day, and I have to pack for my trip to New York. I quickly toss a load of laundry into the machine before drying my hair. The past week has been hectic and I haven't been home enough to kind of get anything domestic done.

Back at the office, the day drags. I can't focus on anything, and every time my phone rings my heart leaps out of my chest. I don't hear from Sid though. He has a game tonight, so his day will be very regimented, every moment accounted for, and I don't want to interrupt his routine. Every hour that ticks by, I remind myself that it's probably a good thing I haven't heard from him. Just after lunch, Carter walks up to me on set, holding my phone and I feel my legs weaken. Sid!

"Hello?" I whisper as I hurriedly leave the set.

"Kate?" Mom.

"Hey Mom, how's it going?" I ask.

"I haven't heard from you, I just wanted to make sure you made an appointment," she says anxiously.

"I have," I tell her, immediately deciding it's not the time to get into specifics. "I went in yesterday for some tests and I'm going back in a few weeks to talk with the doctor." There, it's a half-truth, so nothing to feel guilty about.

"Keep me posted Kate, I'm worried about you," she says sincerely.

"I will, thanks for calling."

A few hours later, I'm at my desk completely focused on writing when I look up and notice the office has basically cleared out for the night. Carter sits at his desk, obviously waiting for me to give him the green light to head home, and I feel guilty for having kept him here longer than everyone else.

"Hey Carter, let's pack up. It's late," I tell him.

"You seemed to be making good progress, I didn't want to interrupt you," he explains.

"Well, it's Friday night. Let's get out of here."

"Isn't there a game tonight?" Carter asks suspiciously. Leave it to Carter to know the Pens schedule by heart.

"There is, but I'm heading to New York tomorrow, and I haven't been home all week," I answer quickly, fooling no one. Carter frowns at me, and I relent. "I'm not ready to talk about it."

"If you are ready, you know where to find me," he says simply.

Carter walks me out to the waiting car service and gives me a quick hug. "Have a good trip, be safe, enjoy yourself."

"I'll try," I sigh.

"Call me anytime."

The ride home gives me too much time to think. I frantically check the score on my phone, and am relieved to see his team is winning and he scored a goal. Not distracted like last time. The thought is somehow comforting and terrifying at the same time. Maybe it's an easy decision for him. Yeah, he's clearly decided against it. He wouldn't leave me hanging if it was good news. What did I expect? We've been together for such a short time, and he's never been in a serious relationship before. My nerves are completely frayed agonizing over this and the stress can't be helping my fertility woes.

At home, I pull out my suitcase and toss it on the bed, flipping on the game and starting to pack for my weekend away. Obviously Sid isn't joining me, that much is clear, but not to have heard a peep from him all day? I don't think we've ever gone a whole day without at least a text. On the ice he looks very much like the captain of his team. He's calm, confident, making smart plays, handling the puck well. After a spectacular breakaway, Sid nearly scores, but the shot rings off the post. He looks disappointed, but even manages a smile. Well, I guess one of us is a little more anxious about this than the other.

Between whistles the camera shows a tight shot of the owner's box and I'm surprised to see Troy sitting there. Sid didn't say his dad was in town. Then it hits me - Troy is here to advise his son. Part of me thinks I'd have a better shot if he's flown in Trina, but I'm relieved to know he's taking this seriously. I know Sid doesn't want to lose me, and I certainly don't want to lose him, but I have to be realistic about this. I want to have a baby, and maybe that's not in the cards, but I owe it to myself to find out. Sid wants to have a family too, and if we wait too long I'm not going to be able to give that to him, and he would leave me. He would have to, wouldn't he?

They win the game easily, and normally I would send him a text, but what he really needs now is space. Space from me. Space to think. Space to make a decision about his life, about us. My phone buzzes and I race to grab it.

"Be safe in NYC." Unfortunately it's not from Sid.

"Thanks Carter."

New York is busy, and honestly it's probably a good thing Sid didn't join me. My Saturday afternoon is completely packed, and I'm whisked from one meeting to another. I'm having dinner with an actor and his agent, which is kind of unusual, but he's eager to develop a project and is looking for a writer to collaborate with. As the cab crawls through midtown, I glance over the materials Carter has packed to prepare me for the meeting. His name is Josh and he's had a few small parts in a fairly big films, and a large supporting role in a recently-cancelled sitcom. Inside the quiet restaurant, I'm surprised to learn that I'm the first one to arrive. The waitress takes me to our reserved table and I glance over the wine list. I know nothing about wine, and quickly select the a glass of the first white listed.

Day two and no word from Sid. I'm trying my best to be patient, but it's torture. I let my mind wander and start to consider the position I've put him in. I know it's not fair, to either of us really. It's not like I'm super ready to have babies with a guy I haven't known very long, but I trust Sid. Ready or not, I don't have a lot of choices. I know myself, and if I don't give this everything I have, if I don't at least try, I'll regret it. That's not a regret I want to live with. If it's not Sid, then I don't really know what options I have left. I guess there are places you can go to get sperm...which is too disgusting to think about.

"Kate?" I look up and the one of the most handsome men I've ever seen in my life is standing over me. This must be the actor, beautiful, but dumb as a stump no doubt.

"Hello, you must be Josh," I take his hand and smile.

"Sorry I'm late," he apologizes unnecessarily. "My agent was supposed to join us, but he's called and is running behind schedule. I hope you won't hold it against me."

"It's absolutely fine," I laugh. "Please, sit down."

"Thanks for taking this meeting, I've been following your work closely and I know how busy you are."

"Oh, happy to do it," I tell him sincerely. "Are you based in New York?"

"Between New York and Los Angeles," he says with a grin. "Typical actor. You're in Pittsburgh now, is that right?"

"Yeah," I nod.

"That's kind of unusual," he says, motioning for the waitress. I notice how confident he is with his body, his movements casual, but assertive. A very good quality for an actor.

"It is," I laugh. "I'm working on a new show that's filming in the area."

"Of course," he says mildly. "The series for HBO, right?" Wow, he's really done his homework.

"That's right," I agree politely. He casually places his drink order, and asks the waiter to fill my glass.

"I'm not fishing for a role," he winks at me. "Although, I wouldn't turn down the opportunity to work with you."

"Well, that said, why don't you tell me about the project you're developing?" I try to change directions instead of taking the compliment. He notices.

"You can't take a compliment," he says smoothly. "Typical writer," he grins at me. I can't help but laugh, he's right of course. Josh starts telling me about the project he's working on, and it's quite ambitious. A spy thriller set in cold war Russia.

"I've got to be honest with you Josh, I know next to nothing about the cold war and even less about Russia."

"Good, then you won't be biased by history," he says cheekily. Josh's phone rings twice, and he reluctantly ignores it.

"Take it," I tell him, and he looks surprised. "Please." He gracefully stands and moves to a quiet corner of the restaurant. I use the opportunity to check my phone. Nothing. Disappointment washes over me, and I quickly finish off my first glass of wine. Josh returns quickly, and gently sets his phone on the table, making sure I notice he turns it off.

"Sorry about that interruption," he says coolly. "Won't happen again."

He's much brighter than I expected, shrewd even. Josh navigates the line between flattery and outright sucking up, expertly. He's familiar with my work and confident that we would be compatible collaborators. "There's just one problem Josh," I say evenly.

"What's that?" he asks with a grin.

"I'm busy, too busy to take on new work at the moment."

"I expected you'd say that," he laughs. Josh takes a healthy sip of his drink and then looks at me soberly. "What about this summer? Can you spare a week to work with me?" I consider his words carefully, Sid and I were supposed to travel this summer. There's a big question mark there. Josh tilts his head, examining me closely. "Think about it."

His words sting, reminding me of my conversation with Sidney. "I will," I tell him honestly.

Josh and I say our goodbyes and he gives me a quick peck on the cheek before opening my cab door for me. Charming. Dangerously so. He would probably have any other woman throwing themselves at his feet, but my thoughts are with a man back home. My darling Sid, considering my most desperate proposal, in a room on loan in his boss' house just outside Pittsburgh. My heart aches to be with him.

Day three, no word from Sid. I fly home this evening, but I have a busy day in the city. I have two print interviews to give, and thankfully my agent has made it clear we will only be discussing work, not a word about my personal life. As if an article is enough space to delve into the disaster that is my private life. The first interview is painless. The journalist has interviewed me before, and we exchange pleasantries and then he throws me softball questions about the show and my role as showrunner. The second interviewer is a little less kind. He asks me about my absence from the industry, not accepting my answer about taking time off to spend with family.

"How has your divorce impacted your work?" he presses with a smug grin.

"Really?" I ask incredulously.

"Fair question," he says. "It's about work, isn't it?" I hate this guy already. He's young, arrogant, and has no idea that he's not getting a "scoop", he's writing a puff-piece about a tv series.

"My work started after my divorce, so I would say the impact has been minimal."

"What about your relationship with Sidney Crosby?"

"I'm not discussing Sidney," I say bluntly.

"I'll take that as a sign..."

"Take that however you like, but know this, I'm not discussing Sidney," I interrupt. "Next question."

The interview continues in this uncomfortable fashion for another hour. My reluctance to discuss anything outside of the show has frustrated my coffee-companion, and he's become irritable and conversation is clipped.

"You haven't given me anything to write about," he snaps, packing up his recorder and notes.

"You didn't ask the right questions," I bite back, and quickly leave the coffee shop. Back in the cab, my nerves are shot. I'm tired, hungry, and more than anything, I'm eager for an answer. At this moment, I can only do something about one of those things. I phone in an order to my favorite take out place, and press my face on the cool glass of the car window. A meeting with the broadcaster, and then home. One more meeting, then home. I repeat this, over and over again, willing myself through the day.

The flight to Pittsburgh is short, but having to turn off my phone makes me antsy. I fantasize that Sid will be waiting for me at the airport. Flowers in hand, a smile on his face, and he'll whisper "yes" into my ear. When I deplane, he's not waiting for me and my heart sinks. Then, while sitting in the cab, I realize that Sid is too recognizable to pick me up from the airport. Of course! He'll be waiting for me at home. My bedroom covered in rose petals, light by candlelight, and Sid will be anxious to start our efforts tonight. Yes, he loves me. He wants this too.

The cab pulls into my driveway and my house is obviously deserted. I climb the stairs to my bedroom, and even though I know I'm alone, it aches when I flip on the light and see my empty bed. I toss my luggage onto the floor and flop onto the bed, completely exhausted. He still needs more time, and I'm running out of it. Suddenly I realize that in all my fantasizing I've forgotten to turn on my phone.

My eager fingers greedily search for the small gadget hidden in my over-sized purse. I find it quickly and race to turn it on. Watching the screen wake seems to take years, waiting for it to connect to the network takes months, and finally I see my messages load.

"Call me when you're home."

I guess Sid has made up his mind.