Gwen hummed to herself and smiled as she saved the file she was working on. Outside her office there was a lot of commotion taking place as people rushed to finalize the annual reports that were due today; almost everyone looked stressed. Yet, despite herself, Gwen couldn't think about anything else other than the events that had transpired over the weekend.

The look in Hank's eyes when he told her he loved her, the way he had immediately backed off when he thought he might be pressuring her, the way he had held her after they had made love . . .

Picking up a paper clip, Gwen spun it between her fingers.

Hank loved her. Hank loved her, and she loved him back. After all of this time, after all of her struggles—she had finally found real love.

"Ms. Hotchkiss . . . Ms. Hotchkiss . . ."

Gwen's head snapped up. "Tori. I'm so sorry—I was in another world there."

"No worries." Tori smiled and handed Gwen a stack of paperwork. "I need you to sign these forms."

"Of course." Gwen scribbled her name in the appropriate places and handed the stack back to Tori. "Thank you for bringing them over."

"No problem." Tori smiled, nodded, and exited Gwen's office.

Gwen watched her for a moment. Smiling to herself, she picked up the paper clip and began to twirl it again.

All the chaos going on outside—hopefully, it would soon be a memory for her. Not that she was under the impression that another job would be any easier. It would just be nice to stand on her own two feet for once—to not be regarded, first and foremost, as the boss's daughter.

Gwen picked up her purse and started to dig through it for her appointment book, only to find a small piece of paper. A rush of warmth fluttered through her chest as she spotted the familiar handwriting.

SHMILY

See How Much I Love You

Have a wonderful day—I can't wait to see you tonight.

I love you,

Hank

All of the frenetic energy outside of Gwen's office faded away as she clutched the note to her chest. "I love you, too, Hank," she whispered, another smile inching up her face. "And I can't wait to see you either."


Dr. Williams smiled softly at Sheridan. "So your friends' daughter was found safe in the park?"

"Yes." Sheridan massaged her temples. "But the whole thing shook me up."

"That's completely understandable," Dr. Williams said.

"What if I'm a horrible mother?" Sheridan cried. "What if I'm just like my father?"

"Sheridan, weren't you just telling me about your friend Gwen—and how much compassion you have for her?"

"Yes," Sheridan said quietly. "But what does that have to do with this?"

Dr. Williams put down her clipboard. "It has everything to do with this. Your ability to have compassion for her about a subject that has to hit home for you on so many levels right now—that says a lot about you."

Sheridan frowned and rubbed her belly. "Gwen was in so much pain when she outed my nephew's paternity—she never meant to hurt Grace."

"That's exactly what I mean, Sheridan. You are not your father." Dr. Williams crossed her legs. "Tell me—what do you think your father would have done if Gwen had confided the same thing in him?"

Sheridan's frown deepened. "If Grace was someone he cared about, he probably would have tried to get revenge on Gwen in whatever way he could."

"And does that sound like something you, yourself, are capable of doing?" Dr. Williams probed.

"No—absolutely not." Sheridan looked up. "Even with everything my father has done to me, I can't imagine ever deliberately hurting him."

"That's what makes you different from him—among so many other things," Dr. Williams said. "What else makes you different from your father, Sheridan? How are you not him?"

"I . . . I don't know." Sheridan shifted in her seat; her eyes fell to the floor.

"Well, how did your father react when he found out that your nephew Ethan wasn't his grandson?"

Sheridan tugged on the ends of her sleeves. "He kicked him out of the family."

"And how did that make you feel?"

"Devastated . . ." Sheridan blinked back tears. "As far as I'm concerned, Ethan will always be our family." Sheridan wiped at her eyes as the tears began to stream down her cheeks. "I tried to convince Father of that, but he just wouldn't listen to me."

"Yet, to this day, you still consider Ethan your nephew?" Dr. Williams asked. "Am I correct about that?"

"Of course I do," Sheridan cried. "I still love Ethan. I've always loved Ethan. He's like a brother to me."

"And do you think that your father was acting out of love in the moment he disowned Ethan?"

"No," Sheridan said. "If he had been . . . if he had been acting out of love—he would have listened to me."

"So, right there, in that moment—do you see an important difference between you and your father?"

Sheridan's voice dropped to a whisper. "I just wish he had realized that love is all that matters."

"He may not have . . ." Dr. Williams paused. "But, Sheridan—you do."


Luis kicked at a rock and dug his hands into his pockets as he patrolled the end of the wharf. As usual, not much was happening, but that could change in a single second.

"Hey, buddy." Hank strolled up onto the docks. "Sam said I could find you here. It's a busy day as usual, I see."

Luis looked over at Hank. "Better quiet than crazy."

"Yeah, that's what Sam said."

Luis laughed and then smiled. "What's going on with you, Hank?"

"I've never been better," Hank grinned.

Luis raised one brow. "I take it that means that you and Gwen made up?"

Hank's smile grew wider. "Not only did we make up—but I'd say we're doing better than ever."

Luis's lips curved up in a smile. "Hank, that's great. I'm happy for you, buddy."

"Thanks, Luis," Hank said. "I'm happy for me, too."

"I can see that." Luis laughed softly, his eyes falling to the ground.

"Why do you look so troubled, Luis?" Hank joked. "Did Gwen and I break one of your ordinances when we got back together?"

"Funny, Hank, funny . . ." Luis leaned down on the rail. "No. I was just thinking about something that happened when we were out looking for Kay."

"What's that, Luis?"

Luis turned and glanced down the wharf, his eyes landing on some teenage girls. "I just saw some teenage punks harassing a girl around Kay's age—I could tell they were making her uncomfortable, and it's still bothering me."

"Why, Luis?" Hank smiled. "I'd bet my life that you saved the day."

"Yeah, but, Hank, what's going to happen when that's my daughter?" Luis threw up his hands. "I know you've all been ragging on me about raising a teenage girl, but, seriously, Hank—what am I going to do when she reaches that age and starts having a life of her own?"

Hank clamped one hand down on Luis's shoulder. "It looks like karma is coming back to get you. After all of the stuff we pulled in high school . . ."

"Yeah, but, Hank, I'm a one-woman man now." Luis looked at his best buddy. "I mean, I was even after I started dating Beth in high school, but, before that . . ."

"I know, buddy," Hank laughed. "I was right there with you."

"Hank, what if she meets the teenage us?"

"Listen," Hank said, cocking his head, "if she's anything like Sheridan, I don't think you have anything to worry about. Your wife can be quite feisty when she wants to be. Don't you remember her first months back in Harmony?"

"Yeah. How could I forget?" Luis laughed. "I wasn't sure if I wanted to kiss her or kill her."

"Yeah, well, lucky for all of us, you two figured that one out before we all went deaf from all the screaming you did whenever you were in the same room."

"Yeah, that was quite something, wasn't it?" Luis laughed and rubbed his chin.

"Luis, your daughter is going to be okay," Hank insisted. "With you as a father, all the guys will be scared to come near her."

"I hope you're right, Hank."

"I know I'm right, Luis."

"Still, it would make me feel better if she had other people looking out for her." Luis studied his friend. "In fact, Sheridan and I have been talking about this—we'd really love it if you'd be our munchkin's godfather."

"Really, Luis?" Hank smiled and raised his brows. "You two aren't afraid I'll corrupt her?"

Luis laughed and shook his head. "It's exactly the opposite, Hank. Who better to watch out for her than a guy who knows every trick in the book?"

"Luis," Hank grinned, "you don't have to flatter me."

"So you'll do it then?" Luis's eyes twinkled.

"Of course I will, Luis."

"Thank you, buddy." Luis slapped him on the back. "I can't tell you how much this means to me."

"Yeah, well, don't worry, Luis. I've got your back." Hank smiled. "I won't let any teenage versions of us get anywhere near my goddaughter."


Sheridan paused as she entered the park; she rested one hand on her belly. That session with Dr. Williams had taken a lot out of her; she needed to go home and rest.

Still, she had felt a compulsion to stop by here on her way home, and she wasn't quite sure why. Maybe it had something to do with what Gwen had said about finding Kay here—that this was the place she would have thought to go if she wanted to feel safe and loved.

"Oh, Mother, I wish you were here." Sheridan wandered over to the swings. "Maybe you could help me deal with all of this—maybe you could reassure me."

Placing her bag on the ground, Sheridan lowered herself down onto a swing.

"What do you think?" Sheridan caressed her belly. "Can your mommy get it together before you arrive?"

Sheridan felt a flutter and a kick beneath her palm; her lips broke into a smile.

"You've got more faith in me than I do in myself, don't you?" she smiled.

Nudging the ground with her foot, Sheridan started to gently rock back and forth. What would she do if she were in a similar situation with her daughter fifteen years from now? If she somehow ended up making her daughter feel as unloved as Alistair had made her feel?

"You're not going to do that," she told herself. "You would never treat anyone the way your father has treated you—you would never deliberately make someone feel unloved."

Sheridan looked up, catching sight of her reflection in the steel poles holding up the swing set. "You might mistakes—you'll probably make a ton of them—but you'll never deliberately hurt your daughter."

A sudden chill shot through Sheridan—followed by a bubble of warmth.

Tears sprang to her eyes as the warmth enveloped her, sweeping its arms around her and trickling up to her cheeks.

Taking a deep breath in, Sheridan looked up at the sky. "You are really here with me—aren't you?"

Another rush of warmth flooded her body.

Tightening her fingers around the swing's metal chains, Sheridan blinked back tears, pushed off the ground with her toes, and finally started to swing.