Love Lost, a young and the restless fanfic

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I would have been here earlier, but I got caught up talking to Summer. She's met someone at GCU . Her eyes light up when she talks about him. She didn't say so, but I think it's serious. I know that look–that smile on your face that you just can't hide, that sparkle in your eyes when you say their name. It's the way I always felt with you…the way I still feel."

Phyllis pulled her coat tighter around her, the brisk winter air was brutal as it whipped through the now bare trees. She smiled, brushing the stray snowflakes off her dark coat. "I don't mess Genoa City winters. I thought I might when I first decided to move, but there's something really peaceful and beautiful about the snow when you don't have to dig your car out from under it every morning. I guess it's true what they say–absence really does make your heart grow fonder."

She paused, the white smoke from her breath hanging just in front of her face. "You know, you'd think at some point, I'd get better at this. I'd learn how to sit here and tell you all the things I want to say, but I just can't." The tears felt especially warm against her face–their warmth a stark difference to the icy, unforgiving wind.

"I want to see you, to touch you…not to sit here talking to this damn stone."

She ran her hands across the cold marble, her fingers brushing the snow off the etched letters WILLIAM FOSTER ABBOTT

"God I miss you, Billy." She reached into her bag, pulling out the bouquet of flowers. Reaching back in, she retrieved a bottle of scotch and a tumbler. "You're gonna make a scotch drinker out of me yet," she whispered, pouring a bit of the amber liquid into the glass.

Warmth spread through her body as the liquid slid down her throat. "It's hard to believe it's been a year. In some ways it seems like it was yesterday…I feel as empty and lost as I was the second I got that call and then there are other times–times when it feels like it's been ages since I've heard your voice or felt your skin on mine. I keep waiting for it to get easier, for time to heal me the way everyone says it will."

"I left this town because I couldn't live with the memories of you. Everywhere I looked reminded me of you and when it hit me that I'd never make another memory with you, it was like losing you all over again. So I left, I went to a new place, a place without the memories. But you know what–you know what the hell of it is? It's not the places, Billy. It's you. You're in my heart. You're in everything I think, everything I feel, everything I am. I don't know how to do this…I don't know how…"

She heard the cracking of fresh snow behind her and she turned.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, standing protectively in front of the stone.

"I'm sorry. I didn't expect anyone to be here. It's late and I didn't even know you were in town."

"That's now what I mean, Jack. You didn't want to talk when he was alive. He begged you to sit down, to hash things out, to at least give him a chance to to say his piece and you couldn't even do that."

She was screaming now, her pain and anger spilling out. It was all so damn unfair. They'd beat it–all the odds. They'd chosen each other over everything for this–for her to lose him this way.

"How dare you? How dare you even try to alleviate your own guilt this way?"

"Phyllis, I know this must be unbelievably difficult for you and I'm not trying to make it worse. Like I said, I had no idea you would be here..".

"Or what, you wouldn't have come?"

"No. No, I wouldn't have. I would have let you have your time."

"Oh," she scoffed, taking a deep breath. "How big of you..respecting our relationship now that your brother is dead and will never know."

Her breathing came faster now and she rested her hand on the stone as she felt her legs shake beneath her.

Jack stepped forward, reaching out his hand to her.

"Don't you touch me," she screamed. "You don't have a right to comfort me."

"I'm sorry, Phyllis. If I could go back…".

"You can't. It's done. He's gone Jack! And you want to know why? You want to know why Billy's dead? You want to know why he got into that accident that night? He's dead because of you, Jack! You killed your brother and I will never, ever forgive you for that!"

Jack watched silently as she grabbed her bag and stormed off into the night, her heavy footsteps leaving deep cracks in the fresh, white snow.

Phyllis sat at the bar, her hand clenched tight around the glass. Scotch. At some point, wine seemed pointless and the scotch, as silly as it might sound, reminded her of him. She closed her eyes as she took a drink, relishing the burn at the back of the back of her throat—the physical pain a welcome distraction from the gut wrenching sorrow that threatened to swallow her whole.

This had become the pattern. She'd go to the grave site, and talk to him as if he'd somehow hear her. She'd swear that this time it would bring her some closure—that this visit would make it seem real, that she'd feel him leave her in her soul, but it never happened. She still waited to see his name on her phone when it rang, still expected to see his face when she opened a door, still reached out her arm to his empty side of the bed.

The crying jags were fewer and farther between now—the tears never brought her any real relief—only puffy eyes. She sighed, finishing her drink. One was her limit—a rule she'd set for herself months ago. She had responsibilities. Pulling a bill from her purse, she laid it flat on the bar, smiling sadly at the bartender as she headed towards the elevator.

"Sorry I'm late." Phyllis stepped into the room, hanging her jacket on the hook by the door as she stepped into the room. She smiled at the young woman who sat across the room lazily thumbing through a magazine.

"It's no problem," she smiled. "She went down about an hour ago. A dream as always."

Phyllis smiled, taking a step closer to stare down over the edge of the bassinet. "She really is." She paused for a moment, marveling at the sheer perfection of her sleeping daughter. "Thanks again for coming by on such short notice." She pressed the money into her hand. "I wouldn't trust just anyone with her, so I really appreciate you being available."

"It's no problem. I wish all my nights were this easy. Call me anytime."

The room was quiet save the sound of the door closing as she sat down in the chair beside her sleeping little girl. There was a time she wasn't sure how any of this would end, a time she was terrified at the concept of having a child—especially one with a man no longer here. She'd found out she was pregnant two weeks almost to the day after Billy's accident. To say it was a surprise would be an understatement. She'd long since given up the idea of having a child, especially after all the difficult she'd had trying to conceive with Jack and the issues she'd experienced with Nick.

To some, it was a miracle. To her, it was a cosmic slap in the face. How could she be happy about this? How could she be happy about anything in the face of the most overwhelming, all consuming pain she'd ever experienced. Her own life was still in shambles. She still woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, screaming in anguished terror. It still seemed as real as it had the night it happened.

She could still smell the smoke, feel the heat of the flames, hear the sounds of glass shattering. She could hear the shouts of the emergency workers as they warned everyone to get back. She could feel the arms on her, holding her back, keeping her from running towards the car like she wanted to. "He's in there!" she'd screamed—over and over—louder and louder, but they still refused to let her go. And then it didn't matter. Her ears rang for hours after the explosion. They'd taken her away, to a small diner near the scene.

Time was no longer a concept she recognized and it could have been minutes or hours or even days –but she sat there, staring at the cup of coffee in front of her—and waited. The officer that came to speak to her was short, she remembered that, and he had a scar above his right eye—she wondered how, but she didn't ask. It was strange—the things you remembered.

He'd placed a clear bag on the table before turning to her and opening his mouth to ask her the question, but he didn't need to ask. One look at her face was the only answer he needed.

Michael had been the one to take her to the doctor, though she'd resisted. Finally, after he promised he wouldn't leave her to be drugged into oblivion, she relented and agreed to go in conceding she hadn't been feeling well and could use something to help her sleep.

It had also been Michael to drive her home and sit with her in her apartment as she cried for hours. "How, Michael? How am I supposed to do this?"

"I can't answer that," he said softly, "but if you think about it, you did want another baby, right? God works in mysterious ways…maybe this is what you need right now. Something good to focus on."

"I wanted another baby to raise with the baby's father. Jack and I were going to have a baby. Nick and I were going to have a baby. I never planned to have a baby on my own and I certainly never planned to have a baby that would remind me every single day of a man I…." Her voice broke, tears streaming down her cheek. It was her worst fear realized. The thought of looking into a child's face and seeing Billy every day. "God-Michael—What if I resent this baby? What if looking at this child never brings me anything but pain?"

Phyllis took a deep breath, the warmth of the hotel room relaxing her body. She stood slowly, taking another quick peek at her daughter. "Goodnight, sweet Grace," she whispered, stroking her arm gently.

"Could I get a cup of coffee please?"

"Sure, regular or decaf?" Esther called out, back to the counter, as she feverishly worked to fill orders at the back counter.

"Regular," he said gruffly.."Don't get the point of decaf," he mumbled.

Esther smiled, giggling a little as she filled the cup and turned around. "Well, caffeine really does a number on…" The glass slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor.

"Esther?" he said, his eyes widening as he looked at her. "What are you doing here?"

She stammered. "I…I…I could ask you the same question, but I've got to get this cleaned up first." She looked back up at him, pointing her finger at him accusingly. "Don't you go anywhere until I get back."

He nodded, leaning back a bit on the bar stool. Though he might have been a way for a while, it was comforting to know that some things never change.

She placed the coffee in front of him and sat down across from him at the small table in the corner. "I got one of the girls to watch the counter for a bit so we could chat." Esther smiled politely at him. "So, you never told me what brought you back to Genoa City…"

He brought the warm cup to his lips and took a sip. "I certainly didn't," he grinned. "Actually, it wasn't anything in particular. I had some time—thought I'd stop in and see what everyone was up to. I know there've been some things going on…been a crazy few years."

Esther sighed. "That it has. I take it you know Chloe's back in town?"

Ronan nodded. "I heard that." He narrowed his eyes as he watched Esther's smile grow. "That's not why I'm back though. I really just came to see how everything was…honestly. I know it's a bit out of character for me, but…"

"Out of character is a bit of an understatement….and I'm pretty sure that both of us know exactly what brought you back into town." Esther studied his face for a reaction, the deep, brooding face never revealing too many secrets. "So, are you going to tell me or do I have to start guessing?"

He sighed, leaning back a bit in the metal chair. "How is she?"

"It really did make the front pages everywhere, huh?"

Ronan nodded. "Well, you know…the papers love a good salacious story, but that had finally calmed down when…."

"It was so sad. I mean, I know the way they got together wasn't the best, but they were really sweet together and you could tell there was a lot of love there. What can I say…I'm a sucker for a sweet, young couple." She stopped, seeing the faraway expression in his eyes. "I'm sorry…I know you and Phyllis were…."

"We weren't ever anything official really, Esther. I just wanted her to be happy and she was for a while. I'm glad for that. She has a baby now, right?"

"She does…a beautiful little girl. Grace—she named her Grace. It was hard for her at first…not having Billy around through the pregnancy but she's adjusting."

"You think.." He stopped, already realizing the insanity of the thought.

"What?"

"Nothing, never mind. It's crazy to even think about it."

Esther smiled. "I think she'd really like it if you stopped by. She could use a friendly face right about now and the two of you shared something special…even if you try to downplay it."

Ronan sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few crisp bills. "Thanks Esther," he whispered before laying them on the table. "I might just do that."

"Anything I need to know before I take over? I've only been out six weeks but it feels like six years." The young nurse quickly flipped through the charts as she checked the notes for information from the previous shift.

"I noted everything," the departing nurse replied. "Oh, there is one thing…the guy in 415—the one that was in the coma…."

She nodded. It had been almost a year since an EMT had brought in a man found by a local hunter. He had broken bones all over his body and a host of internal injuries. Coupled with severe dehydration and exposure to the elements, they'd been forced to place him in a medically induced coma in the hopes that his body could recover. When they'd attempted to bring him out, he was unresponsive and he'd been in a coma ever since. Though he wasn't responsive, his vitals were improving and scans and x-rays showed he continued to heal. His slow but steady progress had been quite the topic of conversation among the nurses and doctors when she'd left for maternity leave six weeks ago. Her heart pained a bit as she feared bad news.

"He woke up last week. He's alert and talking."

"You're kidding?" She smiled brightly. "What does he remember?"

"That's the thing…absolutely nothing."

Phyllis gently moved Grace to her shoulder as she stood and walked to the door. She wasn't expecting anyone today and Michael almost always called first. Probably someone from work with a question, she figured.

She pulled the door open just a crack, bracing it against her foot as she peeked through the opening.

"Hi Phyllis."

Her hand fell from the door as the breath left her body in an instant. "Ronan," she breathed, stepping back almost as a default movement. "What are you…Why are you?…" She smiled awkwardly, shaking her head and opening the door further. "Please..come in."

He hesitated, his eyes falling on the baby on her shoulder. "Is this a bad time?"

"No..she's…she's almost asleep. It's nap time."

Ronan stepped a little closer to her, turning to see the baby's face. "She's beautiful," he whispered, "Looks just like you."

She felt her cheeks flush with a wave of simultaneous embarrassment and guilt. "She looks like Billy," she said quickly, walking quickly into the room and carefully placing her into the bassinet. "She looks exactly like him."

"Right. I didn't mean to…"

"No, I'm sorry…I know you.."

"Phyllis, I just…"

"You don't have to…" It was as if the top of a pressure valve finally blew and she felt the air escape her mouth in a bit of awkward laughter. "I'm sorry," she giggled, smiling at him in spite of the guilt. "This just…it didn't use to be so hard. I didn't use to be this incapable of having an adult conversation."

"You're entitled. You've had a hell of a year." He gestured to the chair in the corner of the room. "Ok if I sit?"

"Of course. Can I get you anything?"

"Sure. Whatever you've got."

Phyllis walked into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and retrieving a bottle of water and a bottle of beer. She let the cold bottle rest against her face for a moment and imagined how good it would be to take the edge off with a sip or two.

"Here." She smiled, handing him the beer.

He raised his eyebrows. "You gone dry on me?"

"No..it's just..I'm breastfeeding so I can't.."

"Oh…right.." His cheeks flushed and he took a long drag from the bottle.

The growing smile on her face did nothing to help abolish his embarrassment and he remembered in that instant why he'd missed her as much as he had. She made it easy. He missed having someone to talk to that didn't take life so damn seriously and, even now—even after everything she'd been through, he still saw that in her. Maybe there was still a chance for them after all.

She knocked softly on the door, opening it ever so slightly when she heard his deep voice.

"Hi." She was surprised to see him looking so healthy and alert. Most of the hospital staff had given him slim odds of even surviving. The ones that had any hope had suspected he'd live the rest of the days in a comatose or vegetative state. It was safe to say no one expected a recovery like this. "I'm Ashley. I'll be your primary nurse." She stepped a little closer to his bedside, watching his reaction, happy to see that he seemed calm and pleasant.

"Ashley." He repeated her name, the syllables rolling off his tongue slowly as if it was a word in an unfamiliar foreign language. "I thought Melissa was my nurse."

"She was just filling in while I was on leave." That was a good sign, she thought as she paused to note his observation in his chart. There was clearly no issue with his short term memory. "Melissa tells me that you're not able to remember much."

A puff of air left his lips in a hurry, but not in a way that showed real frustration. He smiled at her, his eyes showing slight aggravation, but his face relaxed enough to prove he wasn't dwelling on his misfortune. "I can't remember anything…not how I got here…not who I am…not where I'm from…not a thing."

"Wow." She pulled the small chair away from the wall and closer to his bedside before sitting down. "That's got to be frustrating."

He nodded. "It is, but" He straightened, smoothing his hospital gown as if he were getting ready to give a speech, "I'm very grateful to be alive." He flashed her a disarming grin as he recited the words dutifully.

"Been told that quite a bit, have you?"

"Just a few times….It's not that I'm not grateful..I am. It's just that not knowing who you are or where you're from it's not as freeing as some people might think. It's kind of…" He searched his mind for the right word.

"I would imagine it's kind of terrifying," Ashley said quietly.

"It is…It really is."

Being a nurse had been her dream, ever since she was a little girl, and this was the reason why. It was people like this that made her job worth doing. It wasn't about the daily monotonous vital signs or the countless charts to notate. It was the chances she had to truly help people. "Well," she smiled, "I'm going to make you my personal mission."

She giggled a bit as she watched his eyebrows lift in confusion.

"Your own personal mission?"

"Yes," she said cheerfully. "There has to be a way to figure out who you are and where you're from and, now that you're awake and out of the woods, there's no good reason not to get started solving this mystery."

"And how exactly do you plan to do that?" He settled back against the pillows. "I remember nothing….literally nothing. I've tried everything. I've met with the psychiatrist. I tried that relaxation crap, the visualization. They read me names and places, showed me pictures…nothing stuck…nothing."

"Well, then we go another route. We start with fingerprints. Maybe you're on a database somewhere…like with the police department or something…"

"You think I'm a criminal?" He smiled again. "That's nice."

"I don't mean like that…maybe you've been fingerprinted for a job or maybe when you were a child you were fingerprinted for one of those safe kids programs. It's a possibility. It's certainly worth a look, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Yeah, you're right. It's worth a shot."

Ashley smiled as she stood up. "I'm going to go make some calls and get everything set up. I'll let you know what time someone can come in and get everything done, ok?"

She scurried out the door without another word as he watched. Her name continued to echo in his mind. There was something strange about it…something he couldn't quite place. Grabbing the pillow behind his head, he shifted his weight to his side. Things seeming strange was nothing new, he reasoned—the entire world was strange to him.

Ronan took another drink from the bottle, pausing to study her face before speaking. "Well, I guess we've pretty much covered it, huh?"

Phyllis shifted a bit, the warm feeling in her cheeks now spreading down to her neck and chest. "Covered what?"

"Come on, Phyllis. I've been here for almost an hour and the most weighted thing we've talked about is breast feeding." He laughed a bit as she coughed, sputtering as the water she tried to swallow fought its way down her throat. "Sorry," he whispered.

He waited a moment for her to settle, his heartbeat automatically beginning to race as he watched her eyes slowly rise to meet his. "I just…Did you want me to say something about?"

"You don't have to say anything….It's just that I thought we were past this. I thought we were better than this?"

"Better than this?" From the moment she'd seen his face at her door, she'd had to fight the urge to reach out to him. He'd seen her broken before and he'd still wanted her. He'd been there—by her side, to fight for her and comfort her…and he would have stayed if only she'd let him. Now, there was a part of her that would give anything to feel that kind of safety and comfort again.

"Phyllis, you know what I mean. Sitting here, talking about the weather and Genoa City gossip—that's the kind of crap you do with your manicurist..with the guy that installs your satellite. That's not the kind of thing that we talk about…that's not the kind of thing you talk about with someone you…" He stopped himself, fearing that saying the word would be pushing too far too fast.

Ronan stood up quickly, his own fears and insecurities reminding him of why he'd stayed away so long to begin with. "You know what—I shouldn't have come here. It wasn't fair to you and I'm sorry I…"

"Wait, Ronan, please.." Her eyes were shining at him as she now stood across from him, one hand clasping his wrist. The close contact allowed him to feel her slight tremble and it took every bit of restraint in him not to wrap his arms around her to steady her.

"What?"

"Don't go…not like this."

"I shouldn't have come." He pulled away, breaking the contact, his eyes now staring down at the floor. "You told me when I left that you…"

"That was a long time ago…a lot has changed since then."

"Yeah." He turned to face the bassinet where Grace still lay sleeping soundly. "A lot has changed…maybe too much. That's why I think it's best that I…" His eyes were still on the bassinet as he spoke, but he stopped as soon as he heard her shaky intake of breath. Turning back towards her quickly, he saw the tears streaming down her face and sheer instinct took over.

She was in his arms again before she had a chance to think it through, before she had a chance to determine if it was too soon or if it was more than she deserved, and as listened to his deep, soothing voice whisper words of comfort into her ear, she realized that she just wanted to be held.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, the words rushing from her mouth as her face flushed with embarrassment. Dependency wasn't her style, but being in someone's arm, being held, being comforted—it certainly had its appeal. She ran her hands against her cheeks, wiping the tears away and trying desperately to salvage a little of her dignity. Turning her back to him, she breathed in deeply, "You didn't come here for this, I'm sure."

The warmth of his body could be felt before he ever touched her and she found herself drawn to him in a way she hadn't expected. His hands were strong but still gently as he turned her back around to face him. "I came to see you…No requirements."

The deep, raspy rumble of his voice seemed to echo through her and she looked away for a moment, the effect he had on her now becoming far too obvious.

"Phyllis."

She looked up at him again, his eyes were fixed on hers, his hands still rested on her shoulders. "You know you don't have to pretend with me, right?"

It was the sincerity in his voice that nearly brought her to tears once more and she felt her eyes burn with a rush of tears. "I really haven't talked about it. I guess somehow I kind of thought if I didn't say it out loud that maybe…"

Ronan nodded, taking a few steps towards the bed and sitting down on the side. He didn't want to crowd her. Phyllis prided herself on being strong and independent, but it was that same strength and independence that would keep her from reaching out to others when she truly needed help. If she was willing to let him in, to let him help her, she would do it in her time, on her terms. He watched silently as she looked back at him, her face relaxing as she saw him just waiting.

Slowly, he reached out to the empty space beside him and patted the bed, the open invitation giving her the opportunity to share or not. He smiled softly at her as she stepped slowly over to the bed and sat down next to him. He took her trembling hand in his. "Whatever you want to tell me," he said softly.

He nodded politely at the man as he gathered his equipment and walked out of the room. Turning his attention to Ashley he asked, "Did he tell you how long it would be until they know if they found a match anywhere?"

"He said it could take a few days. It depends on how many databases they have to search. I guess it would be quicker if you were a serial killer or something, but somehow you don't strike me as the type." She saw him laugh softly and smiled. "You know, I've been meaning to ask you…I know you said they tried different things with you to try and get your memory back, but you really don't remember anything at all?"

"I don't know. It's weird. Sometimes it seems like I do…like I'm watching a screen that's got too much static or something…like you're seeing blips of something that won't quite come into focus, but nothing make sense and nothing is clear."

"But you do remember something?" Ashley reached over, grabbing a pen and paper from the bedside table. "We should start writing things down. Maybe eventually things will start coming together. I mean what might not make sense on its own, might make more sense if its added to other things, right?"

He shrugged, finding it difficult to find much hope. "I don't know, I mean, I've not even really been able to piece together anything that I can think of to write down. It's not that kind of stuff."

"Tell me…what kind of stuff?"

"I don't know…I guess like your name."

Ashley glanced up at him, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "My name?"

"Yeah. And it could be nothing, but your name just seems familiar to me…something about it just seems like a name that I know or have known."

"Ok." She smiled up at him, her eyes lighting up as she spoke. "See, that's something."

"No, it's not." He growled in frustration as he ran his fingers through his hair. "It's nothing. What the hell are we gonna do with something like that? I mean the name Ashley…how many people in the world exist with the name Ashley. That tells us nothing."

She sighed, reaching out her hand hesitantly. "Hey," she whispered. "I know it's frustrating, but the fact that something seems a little familiar might mean that your memories will start to come back eventually. You've got to give it a little time. Maybe bit by bit your life will start to come back to you. Who knows, before they even call with your results, you could remember exactly who you are and where you're from."

He forced a smile, hating to disappoint the young woman in front of him. "Yeah," he scoffed. "I'm sure that'll happen."

"Damn." Her shocked expression jolted his brain back to reality. "I mean, I'm sorry. I don't even know what to say…"

"Actually…that's probably the most appropriate response I've heard…definitely the most honest." She smiled at him, her reaction surprising even herself. She'd been afraid to talk for so long—afraid that opening herself that much would release the floodgates of emotions that she'd never be able to close, but it hadn't. She'd told Ronan everything. She'd told him about the affair, about the backlash, about their relationship, and the good times, and then she'd told him about the unimaginable horror of losing of it all. What she'd expected to be a grueling, horrific recounting was almost therapeutic and it had been unbelievably wonderful to have someone listen—really listen, without judgment or preconceived ideas.

He shook his head. "I don't know how you did it. I really don't. To go through all that only to lose.." He stopped himself, hearing the words as he said them. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't.."

"No, it's okay. It's nice to have someone that's honest. Most people in this town either treat me like I got what I deserve or they treat me like I'm one bad hair day away from Fairview, so this is a nice change of pace, believe me."

She stood, walking over to the bassinet and peeking in, her eyes glancing down at the still sleeping baby before returning to stare at him. "You never told me how long you're staying."

"That's because I'm not sure. I really haven't made any definite plans."

Phyllis nodded. "Oh, well, where are you staying?"

"I actually don't know that either." He laughed a bit, his lips curving into a sly smile. "I'm not much on plans, you know that."

"I remember. Well, if you are thinking of staying for a while, I'm sure they could find a spot for you at GCPD."

"Right," he whispered. "How I've missed that place." Damn it, Ronan, Get it together! He silently chastised himself. This is not a middle school dance. You know how to do this.

"You know…if you're not busy, maybe we could grab a bite to eat or something tomorrow night." He swallowed hard, feeling as if his legs might give way beneath him if she was evil enough to make him squirm.

Phyllis turned around, her face showing her surprise. "Oh, I…Well, I'll have to see if the sitter is available, but.." She watched as he shifted his weight from foot to foot and found herself charmed at his obvious nervousness, "But I'd love to."

"Great." It was a valiant effort to control the release of breath so his deep sigh was not audible, but he managed and he was proud of the satisfied smile that adorned his face as he quickly scribbled his cell number down on a sheet of paper and handed it to her. "Just give me a call and let me know for sure and we'll set up a time."

"Sounds good," she smiled, not missing his obvious tells, but enjoying the show far too much to give him a hard time. She'd save that for later.

"And you're sure it won't be a problem?" Phyllis softly drummed her fingers against the dark wood of the bedside table. It wasn't that she didn't want to go out with Ronan—quite the opposite actually, but there was a part of her that was hesitant, almost nervous about taking that step. She didn't like this feeling, the reservation, the hesitancy, the constant second guessing. Her strength and confidence was always in her ability to be strong and steadfast in what she wanted, now she found herself questioning what she thought, what she knew, and worst of all, what she felt.

The voice on the other end of the phone suddenly reminded her that she was in the midst of a conversation. "Yes, well thank you..so much. I'll see you this evening." She ended the call, and turned back towards her daughter who sat staring at her in her seat. "Mommy has a date," she said softly, smiling as Grace showed her a gummy smile. "Mommy must have lost her mind," she groaned.

Ronan stood in front of the mirror, holding the shirt in front of him and staring at it intently. He sighed. This was a pointless endeavor. He'd repeated the same process with five different shirts and each one looked exactly the same. It was fabric with buttons.

"Is there something I can help you with?" The soft voice seemed to appear out of nowhere and Ronan spun around quickly, surprised by the sudden interruption. "Oh." His cheeks flushed a bit, hoping she hadn't been watching him too long. He shook his head, feeling stupid and silly and laying the shirt back over the rack. "Sorry," he muttered, "I just..I wasn't expecting to see you here." He stepped forward, awkwardness overwhelming the moment as he extended his arms and sighed with relief as she stepped into the hug. "It's good to see you though. How are you?"

Chloe pulled away, relieved that the moment was still somewhat salvageable. "I'm good. Really good," she smiled. "What about you?" Her eyes danced a bit as she glanced over at the shirt that lay draped over the rack. "Looks like you're trying to decide on some new wardrobe items? Don't tell me you're looking to reinvent yourself…create a new image?"

"Not exactly," he scoffed. "I uh…I was just looking for something to wear tonight. I have a…a thing."

Her eyebrows shot up and her eyes immediately brightened. "A thing?" She grinned, the smile almost immediately spreading across her whole face. "As in a date kind of thing?"

"Chloe…" He shook his head, trying to downplay it as much as possible. The last thing he needed was to make this some kind of big deal and to turn what was supposed to be a simple dinner between friends into some weighted three ring circus. "It's no big deal. It's just a friendly dinner."

"Friendly dinner, huh? A friendly dinner that you're buying a new outfit for? No way. I know you…and you do not buy clothes for just anyone. So tell me, who's the lucky lady?"

"Don't do that," he warned. "I told you it's not like that and I mean it. It's just a dinner…it's not anything serious." He looked at her, his eyes now staring into hers. "I mean it Chloe, please…don't' make a big deal out of this."

Chloe stood silent for a moment. This did seem different. Ronan was decidedly serious about this, but not in a way that suggested he wasn't happy or excited—almost in a way that suggested that he already cared too much to chance screwing this up. "Alright," she relented, "No more teasing..cross my heart, but will you please tell me who this mystery date is? I'd like to know who has you in such a strange state."

Ronan sighed. "It's Phyllis, okay? I'm taking Phyllis out to dinner."

"You know, we've really got to come up with a name for you." Ashley walked into the room, pushing the lunch tray. "I don't like the whole John Doe thing..it's terribly impersonal."

He smiled. "Wish I could help you out with that." Lifting the lid off the lunch tray, he grimaced. "Nothing like hospital meat loaf".

"I smuggled you some extra ketchup packets," she grinned, reaching into her pockets and retrieving the contraband. "Hopefully that will at least make it edible."

The noise at the door caused them both to turn towards it. A young woman stepped inside.

"Hi," she said meekly, obviously uncomfortable stepping into the room. "I'm sorry. They told me to come to the nurse's station, but there wasn't anyone there."

"No. No. It's fine." Ashley stood with a smile. "This is Madison. She's one of the Certified Nursing Assistants that we've hired to join our staff. She'll be helping us on the floor three days a week and she'll be primarily working with the patients in this bay." She turned towards Madison. "Madison, this is…" She paused, "Well, right now we're going with John Doe, but we're trying to come up with something better than that."

Madison nodded. "Right," she said quietly. "I heard about this. Some of the other interns were talking about it in the lounge."

"Ah, I'm popular," he grinned.

"Very," Ashley noted.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you," Madison said sweetly, stepping closer to the bed and extending her hand.

He extended his and paused, his eyes widening, every muscle in his body suddenly tense. His heart rate and breathing increased causing the machines to sound. Ashley stood, immediately reaching for the call button.

"Wait." His hand covered hers quickly. "Wait. I'm okay."

She stopped, noting his calm demeanor.

"Alright." She took the chart from the bed, making a quick notation. "What's going on? What was that about?"

He turned towards Madison, his eyes wide and full of questions. "That smell…"

"Oh," Her hand covered her mouth quickly as she looked over at Ashley. "I'm so sorry. I totally forgot. You gave me the sheet and everything." Her voice trembled as she spoke.

Ashley approached her, now smelling the perfume. "Oh," she said quietly. "It's alright. It's just some of the patients have allergies and we don't want anyone to have any reactions. That's all, but it's okay. It was just a mistake." She put her hand on her shoulder. "You're not in trouble. It's your first day. It'll take some time to learn all the different procedures."

"That's not it," he said, his voice louder this time. "I know that smell. What is it? What's the perfume?"

"It's Scarlett Mist by Jabot," she said quietly. "My boyfriend gave it to me for Christmas. Why?"

"You said you knew the smell?" Ashley looked at him, suddenly understanding his reaction. "Does it trigger anything—any memories?"

He sat quietly. "I know it," he said quietly, "and I miss it. I really, really miss it."

"Don't even start, Chloe. I see that look on your face and I don't want to hear it. Whatever you might think about Phyllis or about me going out with her..just keep it to yourself." With a huff, he walked over to the rack and grabbed the shirt.

"Wait..Wait a minute." Chloe sighed, her face softening a bit as she looked at him. "I wasn't going to say anything bad." She saw the expression on his face, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her incredulously. "Well, not really." He did know her—she couldn't deny that. Her smile grew wider as she relaxed and shrugged. "I just—I really want good things for you and I'm not sure that Phyllis is…"

She thought for a moment, considering how much she should really be sharing with him. He'd been away from Genoa City for quite a few years and, although Phyllis and Billy's escapades had been big news here, she wasn't sure that it would make for tabloid fodder all around the country. But even if it hadn't, Ronan was a good friend and she didn't want him getting involved with someone who might not be ready right now—or possibly ever again. Say what you will about the way the relationship began, it was clear that Phyllis adored Billy and the feeling was certainly reciprocated. Every time she saw them together, their love was almost palpable. It was still almost impossible to imagine that he was gone. Somehow knowing that he was now with their daughter gave her some small comfort, but she knew that comfort meant nothing to Phyllis. That kind of loss left a hole in you that nothing and no one could ever fill. She didn't want to set Ronan up for that game—the kind of game you'd never win because it was unwinnable from the start.

"I'm just not sure Phyllis is really in that place right now." Chloe watched as the words settled over them, the look on Ronan's face reflecting his obvious disagreement.

"Chloe," he began, a slight annoyance creeping into his tone, "I wasn't asking for your approval. You simply asked who I was going to dinner with and I answered."

"I know, but…do you know about everything that happened?" Her eyes searched his, trying to discern if he was indeed aware of all the goings on in Genoa City in recent years.

"If you mean everything that happened with Billy Abbott," he sighed, "Then yes, I know what happened. I also know that Phyllis is raising a daughter alone and that she could really use someone in her corner. I'd just like to give her a little bit of support right now. That's all. Nothing more. Nothing less."

Now it was Chloe's turn to narrow her eyes, staring at him with suspicion. "Right, so buying the outfit is so that you can look dapper and dashing while providing all that good, friendly support?"

"I know what you're trying to do here, Chloe and you can stop it. I'm not going to let you make this into more than it is."

"Alright..Alright. You win." She lifted her hands up in front of him in a sign of mock defeat. "If you say it's nothing, I'll go with that. I'm not going to badger you, but I just want to do one thing, if you'll let me."

Ronan sighed. "That depends," he groaned. "What one thing and how long is it gonna take?" He glanced down at his watch. "I don't have a whole lot of time here."

"That's okay. It won't take long. I want you to let me help you find something decent to wear because clearly…" She gestured to the shirt in his hand. "You need some serious guidance here."

"I know I'm going to regret this, but fine," he grumbled. "Do your magic."

She turned around, staring at the clothes that now almost completely covered the bed. It wasn't just about finding the right outfit. That was complicated enough. It needed to be nice, but not too nice. Dressy, but not too dressy—sexy enough to prove she wasn't afraid of being sexy, but not sexy in a way that made him think she was trying to be sexy. It was all very complicated.

There were some things that fit the bill, items that were suitable for a casual dinner with a friend, but the second she looked at them, in some cases the instant her hand touched the fabric, her mind blinked back to the memory of being with Billy..of the last time she'd worn this with him—of where they were, of what they'd done, of the things he'd said, of how he'd smiled…..

Phyllis sighed out loud as she ran her hands over her face. Her eyes fell on the cell phone that sat on the bedside table. Maybe she should call him and cancel. She could explain that she'd said yes on a whim and, that after considering everything, it was just too much too soon. She could even blame it on Grace—claim she couldn't get a sitter on such short notice. He'd believe that…she'd given herself an out by suggesting it might be a problem from the start. There was only one problem—she really wanted to go. She'd missed having someone to talk to, to confide in—someone that cared about her, valued her opinion, and enjoyed her company.

She and Billy loved each other without question, but they also liked each other. They had fun together. They made each other laugh. Sometimes she believed she missed their friendship almost as much as she missed the loving relationship they shared. Shaking her head she walked back towards the closet, her arm reaching towards the back of the rack. She pulled a dress from the hanger, her hands touching the tags that still remained there. It was a dress she'd bought shortly before the accident, a dress she'd never worn. She'd picked it because she knew Billy would like that it matched her eyes. She nodded as she laid it flat on the bed and began to look for shoes. There would never be a day that she'd stop missing him, but she knew he would want her to move on and be happy. In her heart, she knew he'd approve.

"Anything?" Ashley stood silent, waiting for him to speak.

"No," he replied, the frustration in his voice now more obvious than she'd ever heard it. "It's just so damn strange."

"I know it's difficult. Just close your eyes, relax, and try to visualize anything that comes to mind." She pressed down on the nozzle again, fanning the scent with her hand as the fragrance wafted through the room. "Focus on what the smell represents, what you associate it with, what you feel when you smell it…"

She could see the muscles tightening in his face and neck. He wanted so much to remember and it was making him crazy that he couldn't come up with anything to explain why the scent seemed so familiar to him. Her body jumped slightly as she saw his eyes fly open.

"What?" she asked, the calm in her own voice now replaced by excitement. "Did you remember something?"

"I don't know, really.." he muttered… "It's not so much a memory…just kind of like a flash…"

Ashley nodded slowly. "Of what?"

"I think it's a face. It's hard to know for sure…it comes and goes so fast. It's like everything is out of focus and I can't hone in on it, but I'm almost sure it's a woman's face."

"That's really good," Ashley said with a smile.

"Yeah," he sighed. "It's great. We've narrowed down our search to a woman that may or may not be associated with Scarlett Mist by Jabot."

"Hey. We've done a hell of a lot more than that. The fact that you're getting anything—even flashes indicates that your memories are there and it also indicates that in time, you'll be able to get them back. You've just got to be patient."

"Right. I don't know about the old me," he scoffed, "but the new me is pretty tired of hearing about patience. Speaking of, have we heard anymore about the fingerprint searches? Have they come up with anything?"

"Apparently they've moved to some of the surrounding police departments now," Ashley said with a smile. "You didn't hit on any of the FBI databases which means you've never been involved in any federal crimes…which, let's face it, is a good thing."

He sighed. "I suppose."

"It is," she said, shaking her head at his sarcasm. "It would suck to know I've become so fond of a contract killer or some kind of mob boss. The detective said they sent out to query yesterday and it normally takes about 48 hours so hopefully we'll start hearing within the next day or so."

"I guess hope is all we have, huh?" He leaned back against the pillows, closing his eyes once more. Hope was one thing, but results were another.

It seemed silly to be this nervous. This was Phyllis—one of the few people with whom he could actually be himself. There had always been an ease between them, an understanding of sorts and yet, even with that, he still felt as if he wanted to bolt in the opposite direction. It may have been that very connection that provoked such a response in him. The relationship meant so much to him. She meant so much to him—the idea of screwing it up was too much to even consider.

His feet shifted anxiously as he stared at the door, his hand poised to knock but still remaining still. Flowers? Should he have brought flowers? No. Too heavy handed. Maybe wine? No. He didn't want her to think he was trying to get her drunk already. The thought made him smile. His hands trembled slightly as he glanced down at the heather gray button down shirt Chloe selected. It paired nicely with his favorite dark jeans and, while it wasn't exactly dressed up, it was a far cry from his day-to-day wear.

He took a deep breath before finally knocking on the door.

Phyllis swallowed hard as the knock echoed through the room. She glanced back at the sitter. "Alright," she whispered, a slight shake in her voice, "You have everything you need?"

"Of course," she smiled. She paused for a moment before adding, "It's nice to see you getting out. You deserve to have some fun."

"Thanks." She stood still for a just a moment, gathering every ounce of her composure before walking to the door. Slowly, she pulled open the door. "Ronan," she breathed, her eyes widening as she stared at him standing before her.

He took a step back, not sure what to make of her instantaneous reaction. "I…"

"No." She reached out, grabbing his arm quickly. "I'm sorry…I just." She shook her head, smiling gently at him as her eyes softened. "You look nice."

He felt his face flush with embarrassment. "Oh," he smiled. "Thank you." It was only then he allowed himself to focus on her. She wore an emerald green dress that fell just above the knee. The halter neck showed just enough of her toned, tanned shoulders to make his mind drift to places it shouldn't and the keyhole front did nothing to help him feel more wholesome.

"So do you," he managed, moving quickly to assist her with her sweater as she moved to put it on.

"I hope this is okay." Phyllis looked back at him warily as she pulled her hair out from under the collar of the sweater. "I wasn't sure what kind of restaurant you had in mind."

"It's perfect. There's a little place right outside of town—nice family owned Italian place. Its small, quiet—nothing fancy. I thought it would be nice and it would give us a chance to talk without a bunch of people watching us."

Phyllis smiled. This is what she'd missed. Someone that knew her..not just her…but knew what she needed. She nodded happily as she followed him down the hallway.

"Somebody needs to take this away from me!" Phyllis wailed melodramatically as she pushed the bread basket across the table. "Go on…take it."

"Don't push it towards me," he grinned. "You want to get me all out of shape and then send me out on the police force? What are you trying to do…get me killed?"

"The force?" The joking tone vanished immediately from her voice. "I didn't know you were considering actually being on the force. I thought you were talking about detective work…like you did before?" She could feel it in the pit of her stomach—the gnawing fear that had lived there ever since that night. The therapist had given her medication that she'd refused to take because somehow she felt she needed to remember the feeling, as if feeling it and experiencing it would keep her from every being surprised and shocked by it. As if someone if she were prepared for it, it would have hurt less…even though she knew that would have made no difference. Loss was loss—plain and simple.

She felt his hand on hers and she looked up, meeting his gaze.

"I was just joking," he said quietly, his voice soft. There were moments it was easy to forget—at least for him. They would be sitting, having a conversation, laughing and joking as they always had and he could almost believe it was years ago and they were back in that moment. It took something like this to remind him that he sat across from a different woman, a woman that, in a very real way, was forever changed by what she'd lost.

"I'm sorry." The words came out in a rush and she took a deep breath, trying to find the semblance of composure she worked so hard to hold onto. "I mean…what you choose to do with your life is your business. I certainly don't have any right to tell you what you should and shouldn't do. I don't even have a right to have an opinion.."

"Phyllis." He cut her off. "I want to know what you think, what you feel, what you want. Your opinion means a lot to me…it always has because you do.."

She looked away, the moment suddenly becoming too much. It was so easy to fall back into the routine with him, to talk, to laugh, to just be with him. He knew her and understood her. There wasn't that awkward phase where you had to decide if you were compatible. She already knew. Ronan was a good man and she felt something for him. She just wasn't entirely sure what that something was.

"You ready to try again?" She waited for the nod before spraying the mist into the air.

He lay still as he breathed in the scent.

She watched with interest as his brows furrowed. "Anything?"

"Just the blurry face," he sighed. "It's so damn frustrating. I mean the scent is so familiar. It's the black currant with the sandalwood finish—some floral undertones." He let his head fall hard against the pillow. "I just can't figure out where…" He stopped as he saw the expression on Ashley's face. "What?"

"How did you know all that…about the perfume? Did you research the fragrance?"

He shook his head. "No..I haven't looked up anything. I knew the name of it because she told me, but I haven't looked up anything more. Why?"

Ashley looked back down at the box. "What you said about the black currant, floral undertones, sandalwood finish…it's exactly how the company describes it. No random person would know that kind of thing. I don't know that kind of stuff about the perfume I wear."

"Maybe I bought it for someone a lot or something…I told you I keep seeing this blurry face."

She shook her head. "I think it's more than that. It's the way you rattled it off…like it was second nature or something. You know this stuff. It's a part of your daily life. I think you may have worked somewhere in this industry."

"I can go get the car and pull it up to the front," Ronan offered as they stared outside at the rain that now steadily fell from the sky. It had started as they were finishing dessert and, though they'd tried to wait it out, the once misty drizzle had now turned to a more persistent downpour.

"What do you think I'll melt?" She smiled at him, the twinkle in her eyes reminding him of the woman he'd known years ago.

"You?" Ronan laughed incredulously, "Not hardly, but the offer was my attempt at chivalry. You gotta give me points."

"Noted." Phyllis stared out through the glass door. "I think we might as well make a run for it," she grinned.

"In those shoes?"

She glanced down, nodding her head in agreement. "Fair point." Within seconds, she'd slipped her shoes off her feet and tucked them under her arm. Ronan felt his face flush as her hand grabbed his, her small fingers lacing through his and holding on for dear life. This was the Phyllis he remembered—the woman always ready to take his hand and jump off the cliff—damn the consequences. Her life had changed, but she was still there. She was still her.

"Here." She handed him a towel, giggling slightly as he stared at him.

"Yeah, laugh it up. I look like a drowned rat and somehow you.." He could feel it—the shift in the mood, the instant change in the atmosphere. It was as if she could sense when they were drifting towards a far more serious territory. It was a place he wasn't sure she was ready for and, by the look on her face, a place she wasn't sure she was ready for either. "Well, the rained on look suits you," he sighed, running the towel over his wet hair once more before handing it back to her. "Not that I'm surprised."

He felt slightly better when she offered him a smile in return. They both stared at each other for a moment, both seemingly waiting for the other to speak, to make a move, to give an indication of where if anywhere this should go or stop or…

"You want some coffee?"

The sigh was far more audible than he intended and his face blushed red with embarrassment. "Yeah," he sighed. "That would be nice." She hurried from the room, no doubt feeling the same pressure he was.

The air in the room felt thick as he took in the surroundings. Everything here seemed temporary, impersonal, decidedly not Phyllis. Maybe that was the way she wanted it, maybe even the way she needed it now. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like to lose someone the way she'd lost Billy. He remembered the pain he'd felt to have to walk away from her—this had to be so much worse.

"You still drink it black?"

He heard her voice call out to him from the kitchen.

"Yeah," he managed, his own voice a bit shaky. His eyes fell on two framed photos on the bedside table. He walked closer to take a look. One was a photo of Grace presumably a few days after her birth. The other was a picture of Summer and Daniel. He wanted to open the drawer, fully expecting to find a picture of Billy inside, but he knew that was crossing a line, a line he had no right to cross.

"Here you go." She stepped up behind him, handing him the mug and smiling softly as she looked at the pictures over his shoulder. "That's the only photo I have of the two of them all grown up," she sighed. "Even if it is from that disaster of an almost wedding."

Ronan looked at her quizzically. "Whose?"

Phyllis shook her head. "You've missed a lot," she sighed. "The short version—Summer's. She got mixed up with this guy that turned out to be nothing but bad news. Luckily she figured that out before she actually ended up married to him. Unlike her first husband." She had to softly laugh as she watched Ronan's eyes widen. "She gets it honest I suppose."

She took a seat on the bed with a sigh, glancing over at him as he sat down beside her. "Hey," he said softly, "Don't say things like that. You've just been dealt a really lousy hand. From where I'm sitting, it's pretty damn impressive you're still standing."

"You don't know the half of it," she sighed. And the sad truth was, he didn't. She'd been honest with him about the affair with Billy, but he didn't know why it happened, what brought it all on, why her marriage with Jack had been so irreparably broken in the beginning. He knew nothing of Marco—of what Victor had done.

"I'd like to," he said softly. "Phyllis." He could see the hesitation in her eyes and he wished he knew the right words to say, the things that would put her at ease, that would make her understand that he only wanted what she had to give. He wasn't here with expectations or requirements. He was here for her—for what she needed, whatever it was. "I just want to help," he said softly. "Whatever that means to you. If it means you talk for hours and I listen, that's what I want to do. If you want to scream at somebody, I'm good with that. I just want to make this easier if I can."

He wasn't Billy. He'd never be Billy. Billy was dashing and romantic. He knew exactly what to say to sweep her off her feet. Billy spun dreams and fairytales, making her believe in miracles and fantasies. With him she hoped of a future full of promise and joy, a future she now knew could only exist in her dreams. Ronan was real. He'd seen too many things to dream. There was a part of him that was jaded, cynical, rational—all things that seemed very safe and right to her—especially now.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I'm really glad you're here."

A slow nod and gentle squeeze of her shoulder was his response and her gentle smile told him it was enough. "I should probably go," he said quietly. "I'm supposed to start at the station tomorrow."

"So soon?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure I'll be doing desk duty for a while, but it'll be good to get back in the swing of things."

Phyllis forced herself to smile, refusing to even consider the fact that desk duty to could lead to anything more dangerous. "Maybe if you're not too busy you could come by tomorrow afterwards…let me know how your first day went…" She let the words hang for a moment before abruptly adding, "if you want…I mean you don't have to.."

"I'd love to," he smiled.

She nodded, managing an awkward smile in return as she walked him towards the door. "Okay, well great. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Maybe I can pick up some takeout or something and bring it by."

"That sounds great." They were stalling and they both knew it. Phyllis shifted her weight from foot to foot and she eyed the door. She saw his hand reach for the knob and she immediately felt her heart begin to race. Silently she cursed herself, feeling more like a teenager after her first date than a grown woman.

Ronan watched her, trying to gauge her response as he leaned a little closer. She stepped in closer as she felt his lips brush against her cheek, the coarse stubble she remembered brushing against her face. He pulled away, still standing close enough for her to feel his breath. "I'll see you tomor…"

She wasn't sure why or how it happened. She knew she hadn't thought about it—and maybe that was the only way it could have happened, but she'd took the step back towards him, pressing her lips against his and breathing in deeply as she felt his hand pressed gently against her back. It took only moments for the rational side of them both to prevail and he pulled away, his eyes searching hers for a reason.

"I…" He started to speak as he stepped out the door, his eyes still wide in surprise, his hand no longer on her back, but now loosely gripping her hand.

"Don't," she said quickly. "Don't say anything." She smiled sweetly at him as she felt his hand fall away from hers. "See you tomorrow night," she whispered, and then closed the door.

It had been one of those nights, one of the nights that seemed never ending, one of the nights where he'd spent more time staring up at the ceiling than he actually spent sleeping, one of the nights where he was actually happy to see the streaks of sunlight begin to peek through the window from behind his bed. It had definitely been one of those nights. He wasn't a stranger to nights like this. In his line of work, cases sometimes kept his mind spinning long after he clocked out and left the precinct. They tell you not to bring the work home, but he always had—maybe that was because there was no one at home to distract him. Tonight though, it had been an entirely different reason.

Each time he'd closed his eyes, he could still feel her body pressed against his. He replayed the moment, becoming more and more certain with each recollection that it had indeed been Phyllis that initiated the kiss. Granted, he hadn't stopped her, but she couldn't have expected that he would. Could she? And then there was the way she smiled at him…almost as if she wasn't sorry it happened. Almost as if she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

"Jesus," Ronan hissed, throwing the covers off his body and forcing himself to stand. He'd been back in town only a few days and she'd already managed to throw him completely off kilter. She was the only one that could. He sighed, trudging to the small bathroom and leaning over the sink to splash water on his face. Today was his first day back at the Genoa City Police Department. He needed to be ready.

"Oh, it's so good to see you," Phyllis smiled, pulling away from the hug. "It's not easy having a best friend that's a hot shot lawyer with a crazy, busy schedule."

Michael sighed, taking a seat across the table from her and taking a sip from the coffee cup in front of him. "I know. I'm sorry. I've barely had time to sleep, much less plan lunch dates, but I've been thinking about you a lot. You look good."

"Thanks," she sighed. "So do you."

He leaned back in his seat, making a show of straightening his tie. "I mean it," he said softly. "You look like you're doing better." His eyes met hers, studying her intently. "Are you? How are things?"

She could already feel the prickle of tears threatening to form behind her eyes and she took a proactive breath to steady herself. "See," she smiled, "this is why I wanted to do this in public. To try and shame myself into maintaining my composure."

"Hey. No one expects you to get over everything you've been through so quickly. Everyone understands how difficult this has been for you."

"Not everyone."

"Jack?" He was one of the few people that knew the entire, sordid story. Everyone knew the press' version, but he knew the one his friend told him, the one she'd managed to get out in between sobs. He'd been there for all of it, for the affair, for the explosion that followed, for the brief glimpse of happiness she had. Then he'd been there to watch her fall apart. He'd watched her cry and blame herself. He'd watched her fear that God was punishing her for everything she'd done wrong. The last thing in the world he wanted was to see her hurt anymore. She'd stopped him from going to Jack before, but if he was doing or saying anything to make things worse for her…

"I told you before—all you have to do is say the word and I'll go talk to him."

"It's not Jack," she said softly.

"No? Not Traci or Ashley? I thought they'd backed down after everything that happened?"

Phyllis nodded sadly. "Yeah, they did. I mean we're never going to be close, but they don't shoot daggers at me every time they see me anymore and they have stopped by to see Grace once or twice. There's a lot of guilt there," she whispered. "They both thought they'd have time to make it right…we all thought we had more time."

Michael reached across the table, taking her hand. "I know you did."

"Okay." She shook her head and blinked repeatedly. "That's not what I came here to talk to you about though. It's about something else…about someone else."

His eyes shot up in surprise. "Someone?"

"Yeah..Ronan came by to see me the other night." She watched as Michael's eyes widened with a mix of surprise and interest.

"He just showed up? Totally out of the blue?"

"Completely random. I had no idea he was even in town. I literally opened the door and he was standing there, staring at me."

Michael stared at her silently for a moment. It made sense now, the change he'd detected when he arrived. Though it had taken him some time to accept it, Phyllis and Billy had been something very real. Their relationship was solid and, in a way, they were a natural fit. He'd worried about her—after Billy's death—fearing she'd never find anyone that made her feel that complete again.

But then there was Ronan. That was a different type of relationship to be sure, but the ease was there, the comfort was there and, as he watched her recount the events of the previous night, he saw a sparkle in her eyes he hadn't seen in nearly a year.

"So, when you said desk work you literally meant desk work?" Ronan stood behind the desk, his eyes roving over the pile of papers that appeared to have been waiting on him for weeks.

Paul laughed softly. "Look, I know this isn't exactly the excitement you've been missing, but I really need someone to take care of this mess. It's mainly just some cases that need to marked and closed, some evidence that needs to be logged, a few requests from other precincts for case files, database alerts, stuff like that…."

Ronan sighed heavily. "How long has it been since you've had someone do 'stuff like that'?"

"It's been a while," Paul said with a shrug, "But I have complete faith in you. I'm sure you'll have this up and running in no time flat. So, what do you say? Can I count on you?" He stared at him with hopeful eyes.

"Sure, why not." Ronan smiled as Paul slapped him on the back before hurrying back into his office. He let a large puff of air leave his mouth before sliding some of the files over on the desk to make room for the coffee cup. The computer screen flashed with alerts, the red number 11 in the upper right corner indicating the number of database matches that had occurred in the last few days.

Shaking his head, he took a seat and began to scroll. The monotony of the work would actually be a welcome distraction from some of the other thoughts that had been rambling through his brain this morning. His eyes fell on a message, an alert to a match in their fingerprint database. The officer's name wasn't one he recognized but, as he pulled up the match, he felt his mouth grow dry.

For a moment he stared at the screen, willing the name to change, blinking repeatedly—hoping this was all a crazy illusion, a consequence of too little sleep and far too much coffee, but the bold typeface wouldn't fade. He placed his hands flat against the desk, pushing himself up until he was standing.

"Chief," he managed, pausing for a moment to clear his throat before continuing, "I uh…I just realized that I have something I have to take care of today. Would it be okay if I…" His brain was so full of questions, of scenarios, of things he should do, of potential outcomes. He shook his head harder, trying to clear his mind in the same manner one might clear an Etch-A-Sketch, "Would it be okay if I started tomorrow?"

Paul looked up, eying him quizzically. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah..Yeah…Everything's fine. It's just..when I noticed the date on the calendar. I realized I had an appointment. It just hit me…you know how it is…" He forced a smile, his insides churning, his heart still racing, his legs shaking beneath him.

"Uh, sure. Yeah, that's fine. Whatever you need to do. I'll see…" Paul watched in confusion as Ronan nearly bolted from the room. "tomorrow," he whispered.

The cool air was a relief from the pressure that seemed to be building inside his body. Ronan grabbed his phone, immediately pressing the series of numbers that were now burned into his brain. His beat training was finally good for something. The drills of memorizing license plates had made phone numbers simple feats.

"Yeah, uh…this is Detective Ronan Malloy with the Genoa City Police Department. I need to speak with Office David Brickman. It's about the fingerprint match that pinged in our system. He sent a message." He paused waiting for a response. "Yeah..Yeah…that's right. Billy Abbott. The name was Billy Abbott."

"Detective Malloy?" Ashley quickly walked from behind the desk towards him as he approached the bay of hospital rooms. "We've been expecting you."

"Ronan…you can call me Ronan." He nodded pleasantly at the young woman. It was unnerving how much guilt he already felt and he hadn't even begun. "I guess Officer Brickman called you. Did he give you any details?"

"No..nothing really…just that you were coming down to speak to us and that there was a possible match." Her eyes lit up with excitement. "Is there a match? Were you able to find out anything?" She glanced over towards the still closed door.

"Is that his room?" he asked, following her gaze.

She nodded. "It is. I haven't told him anything yet—didn't want to get his hopes up."

"Let's step inside," he said quietly.

He glanced up for the thick paperback book he'd been reading for nearly an hour. He found himself reading and rereading the same pages over and over and still he had no idea what he'd read. His head wasn't in it today. Ever since Ashley had mentioned a detective was coming to speak to him, all he'd been able to think about was the possibility of finally having some answers. Today might be the day he would find out who he was, where he came from, if he had anyone to go home to…

"This is Detective Malloy," Ashley said, gesturing towards him. She grimaced, remembering his request. "Ronan," she sighed before flashing him a quick smile. "He's here to speak with you about a few things. I'll just leave the two of you to it."

Ronan nodded. "Thank you." He waited for the door to close before turning back and looking at him. There was nothing in his face to indicate his name meant anything to him. He clearly had no memory of his life…no memory of Genoa City..nothing. He reached out to pull the small chair closer to the bed before he began to speak. "I wanted to come to meet with you myself," he said quietly. "I got a call from an officer—there was a match in our system and they thought it might turn out to be an identity match for you."

"Was there?" Billy sat up, his eyes brightening. "Did you find something…anything? Something that might tell you who I was?"

Ronan felt the familiar pang in his chest. "I'm afraid not." He watched as his face fell, the clear disappointment seemed to reverberate through his entire body. "I'm sorry," he whispered, that statement actually being honest. He didn't relish causing him pain. There was no reason for him to intentionally bring Billy pain, but there was a reason he needed to stay here. There was a reason he couldn't come back to Genoa City.

"I didn't want to just call you on the phone and tell you," Ronan continued. "I wanted to tell you in person. I wish I had better news. I really do, but I did want to say something to you—something that I hope might help in some way."

Billy took a breath. He'd had a string of well wishers come through during his stay here. Everyone had their version of the "feel better" speech. Some told stories of those that had it much worse, some handed you the Bible and told you to pray, still others took the tough love approach. The one thing they all had in common was that none of them seemed to do a damn thing to help him feel a bit better. Still, he never turned them away, somehow hoping that one day there would be the one person that had the silver bullet—the one that said just the right thing to turn his life around. "Shoot," he said quietly.

"I've been around a lot of people in my line of work…lots of people who have done bad things, who have made lots of mistakes and I can't tell you the number of times I've heard someone say how much they wish they could start over…how much they wished they had the chance to do everything all over again. I know this probably isn't what you would have chosen, or the way you would have wanted it, but in a way, you have the chance to build a whole new life. You have what a lot of people dream of..a second chance to go anywhere, do anything, be anyone. "

Billy nodded slowly. "Yeah—I guess."

"Anyway," Ronan stood, pushing the chair back against the wall. "I just wanted to come by and tell you that and I wanted to give you my personal number…just in case you need anything. When you get out of here if you have any trouble with anything…you know getting id or anything like that, you just give me a call. I can set you up with some people that help us out with the witness protection stuff we do. They can cut through all the red tape and everything..make things a lot easier for you."

He reached out, taking the small piece of paper and eyeing the handwritten name and number. "Thanks," he said solemnly. "I appreciate it."

Ronan slowly backed towards his car. He grabbed his phone, slowly punching in the numbers. His eyes closed as he heard her voice.

"Hi." Phyllis glanced down at Grace, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief second before flying back open. She fought sleep with everything in her as if she was afraid she might miss a moment of life. Phyllis marveled at how aware she was of everything around her at such a young age. "Sorry," she whispered, "I'm trying to get Grace down for the night."

"Oh," Ronan said quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"No!" Grace's eyes flew open again in reaction to her mother's voice. Phyllis sighed as she ran her fingers down her cheek, smiling as her eyes grew heavy once more. "It's fine. I'm glad you called. I was going to call you a little later to see how your first day went and to see if you were still coming over tonight like we planned."

"The day was fine." He drew in a breath, his eyes closing tight. He didn't want to lie to her, but he certainly couldn't tell her the truth. Did she deserve to know that Billy was alive? Logically? Of course she did, but what would the truth bring her at this point? Nothing but pain. Billy didn't know her. He didn't remember her. He wouldn't remember their life, their love. He wouldn't remember any of the memories they shared.

Ronan remembered everything. He remembered the way it felt to hold her. He remembered the way it felt to touch her soft skin. He remembered the way it felt to kiss her. Perhaps more vividly than anything though, he remembered how it felt to be without her. That, he vowed silently to himself, was something he never planned to feel again.

"I'm guessing by that look on your face it wasn't good news?" Ashley walked slowly into the room. After Ronan left, she'd stood outside the door and waited for the light to flash, but it never had. She'd been hoping he would page her, that he would reach out to her, that he would be the one to ask for her help, but he didn't. Finally, she couldn't wait any longer. She had to make sure he was okay.

"No, it wasn't," he said sadly, barely even raising his eyes to meet her gaze. "They've got nothing. No ideas. No matches."

She sighed. "I'm so sorry."

He nodded. Everyone was sorry. "Yeah, me too. But you know, I guess the guy's right…"

"Ronan? What's he right about?"

"Well he said this was a chance for me to start over. I can be whoever I want, do whatever I want, go wherever I want. In a way it's a clean slate and I guess I might as well make the most of it."

Ashley smiled. "That's a good way to look at it. I certainly know the first thing we need to do."

"What's that?" he laughed softly.

"We need to come up with a decent name for you. I can't keep calling referring to you as 'that guy'" She grinned at him. "And since you get to choose everything about this new life of yours, it's only fitting that you should pick your new name, so what'll it be, stranger?"

"Hey," he said softly, the phone pressed to his ear as he stood just aside her door. "I saw the sign."

"Yeah, sorry about that." She pulled the door open, smiling at him. "She was tough to get down tonight. Didn't want the knocking to wake her up. Trust me…no one wants that. Come on in."

Ronan stepped inside, his hands wrapped tight around the handles of the bags. "Where should I put this?"

"Right in here." Phyllis gestured towards the living room and Ronan followed her. His eyes widened a bit when he saw a table complete with wine and glasses set up in the middle of the room . "I hope this is okay," she said softly.

"Yeah, Yes. It's fine. I hope you didn't go through any trouble on my account."

"Oh, no…I just had room service bring a table up that's all. That's one of her perks of living here I guess." She took a stilted breath, running her hands down her dress to smooth the imaginary wrinkles. "So…what are we having?"

Ronan sat the bags on the table. "Chinese. I got lots of different stuff…wasn't quite sure what you might have a taste for."

"Right now…everything. I'm starving. You'd be surprised how little time you have to eat with a little one around." Phyllis stepped into the kitchen, disappearing only for a moment and returning with plates and utensils.

"Yeah I bet. That's uh…That's got to be hard…doing all this on your own." He watched as she sat down across from him, his statement bringing a touch of sadness to her eyes. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, "I didn't mean to…"

"No. It's okay. I just…It's hard sometimes to think about it."

"We don't have to talk about it…really." It was as if the guilt was rising higher and higher within him—as if somehow it could spill over at any moment and the truth of what he'd done would be obvious.

She considered for a moment. "No, you know..it might be good to talk about it. For so long I haven't, not really because I haven't wanted to but because there really wasn't anyone to talk to. Of course there's Michael but he's different…he's a great friend but he's got a busy life and he's got his own family and his own stuff. He doesn't need me dumping on him all the time."

Ronan nodded. "Right. Well, I told you. I'm here for whatever you need." He slowly began to dish some food on his plate, reaching out to serve her as well. She looked up at him, her eyes shining.

"I can't tell you what that means to me," she whispered. "It's been a long time since I've had someone that I really felt like I could talk to…someone that I think really knows me and gets me. I haven't felt that way about anyone since…well since Billy." She pushed some food around on her plate for a moment.

Her silence was telling and the look in her eyes was one he'd seen many times before. She was contemplating. There was something she wanted to say, but she wasn't sure if she was ready, or maybe she wasn't sure if he was ready to hear it…

"Hey…you can tell me anything," he said quietly.

She looked up at him again, this time her eyes brimming with tears. "You're going to think I'm crazy," she managed, her voice cracking a bit.

"Try me."

She had to trust someone and it might as well be him. She'd carried this burden, this secret obsession for far too long on her own. Maybe admitting it would allow her to finally let it go. Maybe if someone else heard the absurdity of it, they could help her see the insanity of her own despair. "Sometimes I…" She stopped, afraid that saying it would send him running.

His hand was warm against hers and she drew a deep breath before continuing to speak. "Sometimes I think maybe it was all a mistake…that he's not gone. That's he's not dead."

"Why would you think that?" His heart beat louder in his chest, so loud that he'd swear you could see his shirt rise and fall in the same rhythm.

"I know," she sputtered, her voice breaking again, "I know how it sounds, but it's like I thought I'd feel it when he was gone. I thought there would be something in me that just felt different…like I'd feel him go, but I never felt that. Instead it's like a drifting…like I'm just waiting for him to walk through that door and tell me this has all been some kind of terrible dream." She stopped talking as she saw the look on his face. It was a mix of disbelief and fear. "See," she said quietly, letting her head chin drop to her chest. "I told you you'd think I was crazy. You're probably ready to call Fairview aren't you?"

Ronan shook his head, as he reached out to touch her hand. "The last thing you are is crazy."

The breath left her lips as her eyes closed. "You say that now…"

"I say that because it's true. You've had a hell of a year and you've come through it stronger. You're a great Mom and you're still standing. Lots of people I know would have cracked."

"Maybe I did…Maybe that's what all this is about."

"You did not crack. You're still you. You're still the same strong, amazing, beautiful woman that I…"

She blinked as she looked at him, her wide, green eyes searching his for something, anything to make her feel less pain. He had the ability to do that with just a few words. He could tell her the one thing that would make her happier than anything else. He could tell her she wasn't crazy—that the love of her life really wasn't gone, but that, in a sense, would still be a lie.

He was gone. The man she knew and loved was, for all intents and purposes, dead. He didn't know her. He didn't know their life. She would be a stranger to him. What kind of healing was that?

"You're still the woman I feel in love with," he said softly as he stared into her eyes. "You're the woman I'm still in love with."

The sound of the fork hitting the plate was confirmation that she'd heard him clearly.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, his hand instinctively rushing to his mouth to cover it, as if somehow he might be able to push the words back in. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm so sorry."

Phyllis blinked back at him, her eyes wide. "I…" She took a breath, her trembling hands now clutching the sides of the table. "Excuse me, please."

Ronan stood, unable to do or say anything, simply watching as she rushed from the room.

"Aright mister." Ashley took a seat beside the bed, clutching her phone in her hand. "Let's find you a name." She grinned up at him, with clear determination in her eyes. "I have a list of the most popular male names for the year. Let's pick one."

Billy chuckled softly. It seemed like a crazy concept, picking a name from a list, but why the hell not. When you can't remember who you are, things like this become your luxury. "Alright," he sighed, "Let's hear them."

"Okay…We've got Bennett, Aiden, Sage, Liam, Michael…" She paused to look at him. "None of those suit you. There's Mason, Jacob, Matthew, Noah, William, Cameron, John.."

"We could just go with that you know."

Ashley looked up from her phone. "Go with what?"

"John..I mean, they were calling me John Doe anyway, right? I kind of like John—it's simple, basic..kind of what I need right now."

"John huh?" Ashley smiled at him before standing, "Alright then, John. Let's see what we can do about getting you started on your brand new life."

"Phyllis?" Ronan stepped slowly into the kitchen, stopping as he saw her standing against the counter. "If you want me to go, just say so." He stood still for a moment, waiting for a response. Hearing nothing he turned.

"Wait, Ronan. Don't go." She watched him as he turned back towards her slowly. "I didn't mean to run out like that."

"No. No. I'm the one that should be apologizing. I had no right to say something like that to you. I should have never pushed like that. You've got nothing to be sorry for. This was all on me."

She sighed. "Let's go in the living room and talk," she said softly, leading him out the kitchen and taking a seat on the edge of the bed when she reached the other room. Her hand raked through her hair as she struggled to find the right words. "What you said earlier…I…"

"I know," Ronan interrupted. "I shouldn't have…"

"You gonna let me finish?" She flashed a small smile at him, the hint of fire in her eyes sending a wave of heat through him. He loved the banter they used to share and it warmed him to know that she still had that spark and life in her.

"Sorry," he whispered, gesturing towards her with his hand. "The floor's all yours."

"And stop apologizing," she said quickly. "There's nothing for you apologize for. It's not like you said something horrible. You told me you loved me. People like hearing that. It's a nice thing. It just took me by surprise. That's all."

He opened his mouth to speak, then stopped. He smiled, his eyes asking the question.

"Go ahead," she smiled.

"I totally understand. I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I never meant to just blurt it out, but I do mean it. I'm not asking you for anything, Phyllis."

She softly placed her hand on the empty space beside her, her head tilting, urging him over. Her body turning to his when he sat down. "Do you remember when you left town years ago…do you remember what you said to me?"

Ronan nodded. There was very little about his interactions with her that had left his mind. He remembered everything..the way she looked, the way she felt, the way she smelled. He remembered ever conversation, every argument, every look of amusement, consternation, and annoyance and everything he'd done to cause each and every one.

"You said I wasn't allowing myself to fall for you…and you were right." She looked at him, her eyes sincere. "I was afraid of getting hurt. I was afraid of investing more than I could afford to lose. And now—knowing what I know, I'm probably more afraid that I ever was back then. "

"I get that," he said softly. "I know you've been through hell."

"Every night since the night Billy died, I've fallen asleep thinking about him, and every morning, my first thought when I open my eyes is whether or not this horrible reality has just been a nightmare."

She brought her hand to his lips, covering his mouth as she saw him poised to speak.

"Last night, I didn't think about him…last night, I fell asleep thinking about you. This morning, when I woke up, I wasn't thinking about him..I was thinking about you. And there's a part of me that wants this…that wants you…but there's another part..a huge part that feels guilty."

He closed his eyes, the weight of the secret he carried becoming more and more difficult to bear. It was the sincerity in her eyes, the pain in her voice that made it all the more difficult to keep quiet, but those very same elements were promises of what could be a future with her. "I want you to know that I would never ask you to forget about him," he said softly. "You love him. I respect that."

"But.." She felt the tear slide down her face just before she felt his hand brush it away. Her hand covered his as she pulled it away from her face, holding it now tightly in her grasp. "He's gone," she managed, "And as much as I wish it weren't true, it is. I have to accept that. I have to move on because that's what he would want. He wouldn't want me to be alone. He would want me to find someone that loves me and cares about me. He'd want me to have someone that will protect me and Grace..someone good and honest..someone I feel safe and comfortable with." She stared at him, her eyes still shimmering with tears. "Someone like you."

She reached out, her hand trembling as she brushed her fingertips across the stubble that always adorned his face. She'd expected this to be awkward, stilted, but it wasn't. Ronan had always been someone with whom she'd felt comfortable. He'd always accepted her, been exhilarated by her and somehow there was a freedom in that. The same kind of freedom she'd found with….

Her hand suddenly dropped from his face, the thought of Billy sobering the mood quickly.

"What?" Ronan said, his heart beating faster in his chest. "What's the matter?"

"It's nothing. I'm sorry." Her face flushed with embarrassment as she stood up and took a few steps away from him. She walked across the room, filling her eyes burn. Do not cry, she ordered herself as she felt the first tears begin to escape her tightly closed eyes. She sensed his presence behind her, the warmth of his body signaling his proximity before he made any physical contact. His hand rested on her shoulder lightly as she heard the low quake of his voice.

"Phyllis."

Even his voice…the way he said her name. It did—it reminded her….. She stopped, turning around quickly, drawing in a quick breath as she fanned her eyes in an attempt to dry the tears. "I'm sorry," she repeated, "I'm being silly and you…you're here and I'm glad. I'm grateful that you're here with me."

Ronan laughed softly, a mix of confusion and relief. "You know if something's bothering you, you can tell me, right?"

She nodded. "I know. I was just thinking that I've said a lot of things and I do that you know….I talk…a lot."

He smiled. "I like that."

"Well, sometimes you need to do more than talk. Sometimes it's not enough to just talk about things. I keep saying that I need to move on, that Billy would want me to move on, that he'd want me to find someone that makes me happy, and now…." She looked at him for a moment, her eyes searching his before speaking again… "I just realized that if all I ever do is talk about it, I'm never actually going to do it, am I?"

"Phyllis, it's understandable that you'd need time. I mean no one expects you to wake up one morning and be ready to…" He words left him as he felt her body crash into his, her lips pressed tight against his. She wasted no time as her hands traveled to his shirt, her fingers already beginning their work down the buttons.

"Hey," he managed, pulling back, escaping her kiss just long enough to speak the words, "Wait..Wait…" His hands found hers and wrapped around them, meeting her sigh with one of his own as he stared up at the ceiling for a moment before speaking. "This isn't…"

Her eyes stared at him in a mix of shock and pain. "You don't want this? I thought…" She pulled away, turning away from him.

"Wait…Phyllis….Phyllis." How the hell was he supposed to explain this to her. He had never been one to shy away from sex, but it was more than that now…much more. His hand touched her arm as he gently pulled her back towards him, the pain he saw in her eyes breaking his heart. "Don't ever think I don't want you," he whispered. "I do…God knows, I'd love nothing more than to be with you, but…"

"I don't understand," she whispered.

"I don't think it's really what you want."

"So now you're gonna tell me what I want? You know, you show up here and tell me that you want to help me and I tell you that I want to move on…I tell you that I think Billy would want me to move on, but you're going to try and tell me that you don't think I want to move on?"

Ronan sighed, falling down into the chair in the corner. "I know…I know. It doesn't make sense. I just…I don't think you're really ready. I can see it in your eyes when you talk about him. He's still here…in this house. Hell, Phyllis, he's in this room."

"The hell he is!" He ducked as he watched a glass fly across the room, shattering as it hit the brick of the fireplace. "He's not here!" she screamed, tears now pouring from her eyes. "Don't you think I wish he was here? Don't you think I've prayed over and over again that he was here, but he's not and I just wanted to forget that for a minute, damn it! I just wanted to forget this horrible, overwhelming emptiness that eats me up!"

He shook his head, tears welling up in his own eyes as he stepped towards her. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry." He pulled her close to him, closing his eyes as she fell onto his shoulder, her body shaking with sobs. A cry sounded from the monitor and he felt her jerk.

"God," she whispered, "I woke her." She looked up at him. "I'm sorry. I've got to go get her."

"Of course," he whispered, "You go take care of her. I'm just gonna get this cleaned up."

He watched as she quickly walked from the room. Kneeling, he picked up the larger pieces of glass and placed them in the waste bin. His mind flashed back to the meeting with Billy. Phyllis missed him..so much. She'd give anything to have the man she loved back, but even if she knew the truth…even if he told her exactly where Billy was, she wouldn't find the man she loved in that bed. Billy Abbott was, for all intents and purposes, dead. The man he'd visited looked like him, sounded like him, but knew nothing of his life, of his loves, of his children. Wouldn't that be an entirely new loss? He stood up, stepping into the kitchen to retrieve a dust pan. Keeping this from Phyllis seemed wrong but, after seeing the pain she was in, telling her didn't exactly feel right either.

"Well, Good morning." Ashley stepped into the room, surprised to see him already up and sitting in the chair. "You're up awful early, John."

He smiled at her, bringing a warm cup of coffee to his lips. "Yeah, I guess I am. Sleep isn't really my thing."

"Oh really? I can ask the doctor to order something to help you relax if you'd like." She reached over to grab his chart.

"No. No. That's alright. It's actually not really that…it's just. I'm having some really strange dreams…if you want to call them that."

Ashley raised her eyebrows. "Dreams?" She sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at him curiously. "What are they about?"

He shook his head. "That's just it—nothing really. They're not really like normal dreams. It's not like I'm doing anything…it's more like I'm just there…in this space…"

"Do you think they could be some kind of memory?"

"I'm trying really hard not to think that," he admitted. "I don't want to get my hopes up, but honestly…yeah, it kind of feels that way." He laughed as Ashley reached over for the notebook.

"Tell me everything you remember about the dream," she said excitedly.

"Calm down, there's not too much to tell…it's a room, but not like a this..it's older, nice..and dark.."

Ashley scribbled furiously. "Okay…like a house maybe?"

"Maybe..but not like a normal house. This is like one of those shows you watch on that channel with those British people…what's it called?"

"Downton Abbey?" Ashley asked.

"Yeah, that's the one…"

Ashley nodded. "So like a really nice house."

He nodded… "And there's a smell, but I can't place it…I don't know what it is…it's strong…like smoke or something and I can hear a sound….I think it's rain…" He watched as she continued to write.

"What else?" she asked excitedly.

"I think someone was with me," he said quietly, "but everytime I almost see them or hear the voice, I wake up."

Ronan glanced down at his watch. She'd been in there for a while. He didn't know much about babies, but he'd always heard they weren't great sleepers. Maybe she was having trouble getting Grace back to sleep. He stepped quietly towards the door, pushing it open just slightly so that he could peer inside.

Phyllis sat in the rocking chair, she and Grace both sleeping. Grace laid, with her head on Phyllis' chest, a pink blanket covering her, her tiny hand resting on her mother's face. Ronan stood there for a moment, just watching them. Just moments ago Phyllis had been near fury and now she looked completely content, holding her daughter. Quietly he pulled his phone from his pocket and quickly snapped a photo. This seemed like one of those moments you would want to remember and who knows, maybe he could give it to her as a way to apologize for being such an ass earlier.

He smiled as he took one last look at them before backing out of the room.

Phyllis walked slowly from the room. "Ronan?" she called, fully expecting him to be long gone. She'd been asleep for nearly two hours and they hadn't exactly left things on the best terms. Her eyes scanned the empty living area. "Great," she muttered, as she walked into the kitchen to turn out the lights. She stopped, a folded piece of paper catching her eye.

Phyllis,

Saw that you had fallen asleep while putting Grace down—Didn't want to wake you. Sorry about everything tonight. Hope I can make it up to you somehow.

Love,

Ronan

He hadn't done anything wrong and yet he was still apologizing. The only thing he'd done was tell her the truth, a truth she didn't want to hear, a truth she was trying to deny, but somehow being with Ronan was making things better. Being with him made being without Billy more bearable and as wrong as that felt, something about it felt right too.

"Ugh," she groaned, as she ran her fingers through her hair. Tonight she just needed to sleep.

"Yeah?" Ronan pressed the phone to his ear. It was early, but it really didn't matter. It wasn't as if he'd been sleeping anyway. His night had been filled with thoughts, thoughts of Phyllis, of Grace, of Billy. He'd tossed and turned all night, his mind constantly spinning, wondering, and worrying. One hour would bring certainty that he was doing the right thing—that Phyllis was better off with him—that he could make her happy, that he could be a good father figure to Grace, that he would love and protect them both…and he would. That was true. The next hour would bring certain disaster—what happened if she ever found out? She'd feel betrayed and she'd hate him. Grace would hate him. They would believe he'd kept this from them because he wanted them for himself. They'd never believe he did it to protect them. The thoughts were making him crazy and, try as he might, he couldn't get his brain to shut up.

"Detective Malloy?"

"Yeah?" Ronan repeated, not yet recognizing the female voice.

"Hi, it's Ashley..I'm not sure if you remember me. I work at the hospital. You were here the other day. You visited the patient—the one that doesn't remember anything about his life. Do you remember?"

Ronan swallowed hard. "Yeah, Yeah, absolutely I remember. Has something happened?" His heart started to beat faster.

"That's actually why I'm calling. He wanted to know if you could come by later. He'd like to talk to you about some things."

"What kind of things?"

Ashley hesitated, not knowing exactly what she should say. "I'm not really sure exactly. He just…I think he feels like you kind of understood him and he just wants to talk about some things he's feeling..maybe get some advice."

Damn it. The last thing he needed was to be giving advice to the presumed dead lover of the woman he loved. But what the hell…. "Okay, sure…I'll can uh…" He glanced over at the clock on the microwave. "I can be there in a few hours."

"Great," Ashley said cheerfully, "I'll let him know."

Ronan took another bite of his burger. "Well, I mean…I wouldn't say it's nothing. You're definitely remembering something—it's just not a whole lot to go on." He swallowed hard, finding it difficult to force the food down his throat. The guilt seemed to well up inside him with each passing moment. He'd been here for almost an hour now, listening to this man go on and on about how much he wanted to remember his life. It would be so easy to tell him the truth. He could fill in the blanks, tell him about the people that missed him, the people that mourned him, the life he'd left behind.

"I guess I was just thinking maybe there was something you could recommend…I mean I know it sounds crazy and all, but on those shows they have those sketch artists and all. Maybe if I could remember more about the places or even about the people, you think you could recommend someone that could kind of help me come up with a visual?"

Ronan sighed. "Yeah, I mean..we could try..it's just. I mean, right now all you've really got is a place…that's not a whole lot to go on."

"I know," he sighed. "It's just so damn frustrating…I can't remember anything and I want to…"

"Let me ask you something…say someone came in here and they told you that they knew who you were. Say they told you that you had a family…say you had a wife and kids and a family…say you had all of that and they could tell you where they were and how to find them."

"I'd be thrilled…I mean…" He watched Ronan for a moment, realizing he was making a point…

"You don't remember them. Think about that. You've been gone for what? Months? They think you're gone…they've grieved…they've moved on. You think it's hard to not remember? How do you think it would be to be forgotten?" Ronan watched as the words resonated within him.

"I never really thought about it…I've been so busy trying to get my memory back. I never really thought about what it would be like for the people…" He looked up at Ronan. "You think I should stop? You think I should stop trying to remember?"

It might have been the look of utter desperation in his eyes. It might have been the primal cry in Phyllis' voice as she screamed at him the night before. It might have been the sight of the sweet baby girl that might never know her father, but whatever the reason, Ronan found his hand reaching into his pocket, his fingertips quickly scrolling across the screen. He held the screen out to him. "Look at this," he said, his voice low, as if somehow he was hoping he wouldn't hear.

Ronan watched as his eyes studied the picture.

"Who are they?" he asked.

Ronan took a deep breath. "That's your life, Billy Abbott."

"Well, hi," Phyllis said, her voice betraying her surprise as she stepped back and allowed Lauren to step into the room.

Lauren smiled. "The surprise in your voice tells me that I've been a pretty crappy friend recently." She leaned in to give her a quick hug. "I'm really sorry I haven't been around much sweetie. I've just been so busy with work and everything else." She pulled away, sighing deeply, "Which is absolutely no excuse for not calling or coming by, but…"

"It's fine…don't give it another thought. I'm just glad to see you this morning." She reached out for the coffee and paper bag. "And you have no idea how much I need this this morning."

"Rough morning?"

Lauren followed Phyllis into the living area, stopping by the swing and bending down to scoop up Grace. "I don't know how anyone could have a bad morning when you get to wake up to this sweet little face."

"Yeah," Phyllis smiled, "She's sweet now…not so sweet at 4am when she refuses to sleep." She stroked Grace's arm as she shook her head slowly. "No, it's not that…it's just…I don't know…everything really."

"Sounds like we've got a quite a bit of ground to cover," Lauren smiled, pulling a few muffins from the bag and sitting them down on the table. "You pick first."

Billy stared at the image on the phone before looking back at Ronan. "I don't understand."

Ronan felt his own heart break as he heard the words. He could only imagine how Phyllis would feel. "You don't recognize that woman at all?"

He looked back down at the picture again, "No..I..I..don't. Should I? Who is she?" He paused for a minute. "Wait a minute. You called me Billy. Do you know who I am? Is that my name?"

Ronan took a deep breath. There was no going back now. "Yes," he sighed. "I know who you are. Your name is Billy Abbott. You're from Genoa City, Wisconsin. You were injured in a car accident about a year ago and you've been missing ever since."

"Billy Abbott," he breathed. It felt like he'd been punched in the gut. The relief he'd expected to feel when he finally got the answers wasn't here and in its place was this overwhelming sense of anxiety. There were so many questions, too many questions, questions he didn't even know how to put into words. "The picture?"

"Her name is Phyllis…Phyllis Summers…You loved her…and…the baby that's your daughter. Her name's Grace."

His heart felt as if would pound out of his chest and he closed his eyes for a moment. "She's little," he finally managed. "Is she still little like that?"

"Yeah," Ronan whispered, "That's from last night. Phyllis found out she was pregnant after you die…well, after she thought that you…"

"Oh." He didn't know what to say. He didn't even know what to feel. In every dream he'd had about his life, it had never been like this. He'd always been happy to find out who he was and where he'd come from, but this—this was like an overwhelming wave that he couldn't get out from under. He kept fighting for breath, but the water kept coming. Thoughts hit one after the other and the second he managed a coherent question, another necessary, more pressing inquisition would assault his brain.

"Last night?" Billy said suddenly, his quick words breaking the silence in the room. "You said the picture was from last night?"

"Yeah, it was."

"You were with them…Do they know…about me?"

"No. I haven't told her. I thought about it, but I didn't." Ronan watched his face, anticipating anger, but instead he was met with confusion.

"Why?"

Ronan stood up, walking a few steps away from him and turning his back. It was easier to say if he didn't have to look at him. "Because I love her," he said quietly. He turned back after a few moments with no response. Billy simply looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

He sat back down in the chair, his hands brushing hard over his face. "You have every right to be angry. I mean, I can't imagine what it must be like to have no idea about your life and then to know that someone knew everything and kept it from you. I'd be mad as hell if I were you right now." He paused. "In fact, I've gotta say, I'm kind of curious why you're not. You're taking this pretty well."

Billy shook his head slowly. "I don't know. I guess I figure you didn't have to tell me now, but you did. I wouldn't have known. You never had to come back here, but you did and that must mean you care about the same people that I did…or do…"

"You and I…we don't know each other that well," Ronan began, "but I'll answer any questions you have, alright? I'll try to help you however I can, but I just need one thing from you. I know you want to get back to your life, but think about what I said. You know how it feels to forget, but imagine being forgotten." He picked up the phone again, bringing the picture back onto the screen. "She's been through hell and she's just now finally beginning to try and find her life again. I can be there for her, for both of them…and I'm not saying you can't. I'm just saying that right now…."

"Right now you think it would hurt her more than it would help," Billy said quietly.

"I don't want to see her hurt anymore. That's all. I swear to you that I'll help you. I'll visit and I'll answer questions and I'll keep you updated. I'll bring pictures and anything you want. I just know…" He paused, trying to figure out the right words…the right way to make him understand. "Phyllis misses you with everything in her. You are all she talks about. She wants you back and I'm not sure if she could handle a person that looks like you and sounds like you but isn't really you. Does that make any sense at all?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah, it does." He was quiet for a moment before adding, "You'll make sure they're okay?"

"You have my word." Ronan held out his hand, shaking it as Billy took it. "The hospital has my number. You can call me anytime."

"Thank you." Billy nodded, watching as Ronan stood and stepped towards the door. "Ronan," Billy called, "One more thing."

Ronan stopped, turning back to look at him.

"Do you think maybe you could send that picture to Ashley—maybe let her print it out for me? I'd like to have something…just something to look at so I could…I don't know…"

Ronan nodded, quickly sending the picture to Ashley's contact. "Done," he said with a smile.

Ashley waited until Ronan could no longer be seen before rushing into the room. "What did he say?" she asked, her eyes wide with anticipation.

Billy pushed himself up in bed. "Later…Later," he said quickly, holding his hand up to stop the conversation. "Right now, I need you tell me the quickest way to get a laptop set up in here."

"You know, you need to eat something." Ashley sighed as she stepped into the room. "Billy Abbott," she bellowed, smiling as he finally glanced over at her.

"Sorry," he sighed. "I was just involved in all this."

"So I see." Ashley sat her bag in the chair by his bed and placed a paper take out bag on the tray by the laptop. "Here," she grinned, "I smuggled in some outside food for you since they're going to be springing you later. I figured you might as well get your system used to eating something that actually has a taste."

Billy laughed. "Thanks." He pushed the laptop to the side, digging into the bag and pulling out the cardboard container of fries.

"So, you found anything else earth shattering on there?" Ashley laughed as he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Honestly, I'm kind of afraid to keep looking," he muttered, "Every time I think I've found the bottom of the barrel, I find another story to illustrate just how much of a screw up I really am."

"Pfft. Don't say that. Come on, if any one of us was to go researching our pasts on the internet, I'm sure we'd all be able to come up with a file of misdeeds we'd rather not remember."

"Try a file cabinet," Billy retorted. "I mean the woman that I'm in love with…the woman I have a child with was my brother's wife when we got together. That's…." He stopped, not even knowing how to put his thoughts into words.

"Didn't Ronan say you guys were good together though? So maybe it's one of those things…one of those meant to be kind of situations?"

Billy rolled his eyes. "You've been watching too many movies," he sighed. "I don't know..it's just.." He picked up the photo and looked at it again.

Ashley smiled. "I've been watching you," she said quietly, "every time you look at that picture. It's like you don't remember in your head, but maybe your heart does."

"Ugh," Billy leaned back against the pillow. "That's what I'm talking about," he sighed. "That's why I have to go back there. I have to see this place. I have to see these people. Maybe if I'm back in the places and I can actually be surrounded by the things and the people I used to know, it'll all come back."

"And if it doesn't?" Ashley asked quietly.

"I don't know, but I do know I have to try." He paused. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done though…from taking care of me to helping me get this far to talking them into letting me out. And the loan…"

"I checked you out," she grinned, "You're a good investment. Your family connections are strong."

Billy laughed. "Seriously though. Thanks."

Lauren followed Phyllis back into the living room. "She really is a sweetheart," she smiled. "I miss when the boys were that age."

Phyllis nodded. "Yeah, it's been really good for me to have her around. In the beginning, she was the only thing that kept me going most days."

"And now?"

"Now, it's getting a little easier. Some days are better than others of course, but I have more good days than bad I guess."

Lauren grinned. "Any particular reason?"

"I'm guessing Michael told you." Phyllis took a seat in the chair as she watched her friend get settled across from her.

"He might have mentioned that you and Ronan were getting close again." She paused. "So, is it serious?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I mean, Ronan and I had a good thing for a while and it's been great to see him, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to jump back into anything serious right now. I'm not sure that I've really moved on to that point yet."

"Well, I mean…if you're headed back to Chicago, I guess that'll pretty much answer that question though, won't it?"

Phyllis stilled, glancing up over her coffee cup.

"Phyllis? You are going back to Chicago, right? I just assumed this was a visit like all the other times." Her mouth moved into a broad smile, "Are you telling me that you're thinking about coming back to Genoa City for good?"

"Wait—Wait…" Phyllis held up her hand to stop the impending excitement. "Don't start shopping for apartments yet. I haven't decided anything for sure, but yes—I'm thinking about it. It would be good for Grace to be closer to the family and the truth is I miss it here. I thought going away would be easier, that it would help me get over Billy, but I think about him no matter where I am and the only thing the distance has done is keep me away from my friends and family."

"And Ronan…Does Ronan have any kind of pull in this decision?" Lauren stared at her, searching her eyes for any potential spark.

"He might," she sighed. "I mean, it would be nice to know that if I stayed here there was someone that I felt connected to in that way…someone I could see myself building a future with.."

"Well, I think that's wonderful," Lauren smiled. She stopped as she heard a knock on the door. "Were you expecting someone?"

"No," Phyllis responded, heading to the door quickly. She stretched a bit, glancing through the peephole and quickly glancing back over her shoulder at Lauren. "It's Ronan," she whispered.

"Say no more," Lauren grinned. "I need to head off to work anyway."

"Lauren you don't have to.."

Lauren shook her head, pulling open the door and smiling at them both. "Hello Ronan," she said cheerfully. "I think there's some muffins left if you're hungry."

"Lauren," Ronan said with a nod as he looked back towards Phyllis. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything," he said softly.

"No, you didn't. Lauren was just leaving anyway." Phyllis glanced down at the ground, her actions from earlier still weighing heavily on her mind.

"Can I come in?" Ronan was hesitant, not wanting to be too forceful, but not too keen on having the conversation in the hallway either.
"Oh, of course you can. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking," Phyllis stammered, stepping aside and allowing him to walk in.

"About the other night," they both said in unison.

"You go," she said with a smile.

"Phyllis," Ronan began, clearing his throat nervously, "I should have never pushed you the way that I did. You have every right to feel however you feel and for me to suggest that you shouldn't or to even sound like I'm suggesting you should is completely out of line. I would never want you think that I don't respect everything you had with Billy because I do and I completely understand that you're not in a place where…."

"Ronan…Ronan…Ronan.." Phyllis looked at him, a warm smile playing on her face once his eyes met hers. "It's okay," she whispered, "You don't have to apologize. I'm the one who should be apologizing. You were just trying to be honest with me and I overreacted. I'm just really sensitive to a lot of things when it comes to Billy and I shouldn't have got so upset with you. You were just trying to make things better between us and I understand that. I really do. I want things to be okay with us. I want us to be able to be honest with each other…even if it isn't always easy or pretty."

Ronan drew in a deep breath. "I want that too," he said softly.

The sound of Grace's soft cry interrupted the moment.

"I'm sorry," Phyllis said, shaking her head. "I swear it's like she's got radar or something. Let me just go get her." She turned to go before stopping and looking back at him. "Promise you'll be here when I get back, okay?"

Ronan nodded. "Promise."

He watched as she walked towards the nursery, his heart pounding in his chest. Guilt welled up inside him as he stood there. He knew how much she missed him, how much it hurt her every day to think he was gone, but wouldn't it hurt her more to know that he was here physically but gone forever from her in the way that truly mattered. His mind raced as he heard her soft footsteps enter the room.

"It looks like someone didn't want to miss the action," she said with a smile.

Ronan looked up to see Grace smiling at him, her tiny hands reaching out towards him.

"She likes you," Phyllis said with a smile as Grace reached for him again. "Go ahead," she whispered, "Take her."

"Oh, I don't think she…"

"She's reaching for you," Phyllis laughed, handing her to him.

Ronan carefully cradled Grace in his arms, her tiny hand carefully touching his face, her fingertips pulling back slightly as she ran over the scruff of his stubble. "Hi there," he whispered as he stared down at her.

"Looks like you've made quite the impression," Phyllis smiled as she bent down to pick up a few toys. "You know they say babies have great instincts about people." She looked up at him, her eyes staring into his for a moment. "You think that's true?"

Ronan swallowed hard as he felt Grace's hand wrap tight around his finger. "Yeah," he whispered, "I guess so."

"I'm sorry. I don't have any kind of picture ID," Billy said with a sigh, "but I'll pay in cash—in advance," he offered. "For the entire week." He watched the look on the desk clerk's face, her suspicious eyes, lighting up a bit at the sight of the cash on the dingy countertop.

"That's for the whole week upfront?"

"Yeah, the whole week, upfront and the security deposit." He glanced around the small front office. The fact that this place had a security deposit was a bit laughable, but he didn't have the luxury of being particular. Not too many hotels in the city would rent to someone with no ID and no valid credit card.

"Alright," she said gruffly, snatching the money and handing him a key. "We don't do the key cards," she smiled. "We're not too fancy around here."

Billy sighed. "No problem. Neither am I." He shoved the key into his pocket as he trudged out the door onto the sidewalk. It was only a few steps to his new front door. The key slipped into the lock easily and he pushed open the door and leaned his bag against the wall. "She wasn't kidding," he mumbled out loud, "Nothing fancy about this." He closed the door, and flipped the lock. It had been an exhausting day and a long bus ride. After kicking off his shoes and removing his jacket, he stretched out across the bed. Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, he pulled out the photo, pulling it down to his chest. He didn't know who they were or what they meant to him, but Ashley had been right—they meant something and in a world where nothing seemed to make any connection, something was a hell of a lot. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.

"Hi." Ronan stood up, pulling out the chair and waiting for Phyllis to sit before sliding it back under the table. He leaned in to lightly kiss her cheek before bending down to speak to Grace. "And good morning to you too," he smiled, reaching into the stroller and stroking her tiny hand.

"You better watch out," Phyllis whispered, leaning in towards him and speaking through gritted teeth.

"What?"

"Word's gonna get out that you're nothing but a big ol' softie," she hissed. "Pulling out chairs, playing with babies…pretty soon you'll be drinking light beer and getting facials…" She grinned mischievously as he took a seat across from her.

"That's really good to see." Ronan pushed a cup of coffee across to her, his eyes softening as he watched her blink in confusion.

"What is?" she asked.

"That smile….it's been a long time since I've seen one of those real genuine Phyllis smiles. I've missed them."

"Oh," She was serious for a moment and he worried he might have said too much. He nearly sighed aloud in relief as he watched the smile spread across her face again. "You know what, I've missed them too. It's been a long time since I've felt like smiling like that and you know what? You're the reason why…"

"Me?" He leaned back, feigning shock. "What did I do?"

"You did what you always do. You reminded me of what it's like to just be…not to be worried about a million things…not to be so serious all the time. You reminded me that it's okay to just enjoy life every once in a while…and you're good with my kid. That always helps."

"Well, she happens to be a great kid. That helps too." Ronan glanced down at Grace who worked furiously to pull her foot into her mouth. He grinned, "And working on being as flexible as her Mama I see…." He stopped. "I'm sorry..I was joking..I didn't mean anything by that…"

"Ronan,…Ronan…" She laughed, reaching across the table and lightly touching his hand. "It's alright, honestly. I'm really enjoying spending time with you and I don't know where things are going but I'd like to see and if you're willing to be a little patient. I mean, I'm not quite ready for that yet, but…"

"I can be patient. You're worth waiting for." The words came out of his mouth more quickly than he intended and he cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment as he brought his coffee cup to his lips to take a sip, "So," he said, with a deep breath, "What are the two of you up to today?"

Phyllis smiled, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, actually we need to get going. We're going to head to the park and take a walk and I'm meeting a real estate agent there a little later."

She saw his face fall immediately.

"Oh," he breathed. "I didn't realize you weren't planning on staying in town. I just thought earlier when you said…" He shook his head. "Never mind. I mean you certainly don't own me any explanation.."

"No..No..I'm talking to an agent about trying to find a place here…so that I can stay here permanently. Initially it was always the plan to go back to Chicago, but I realized that I've really missed it here and there's some things that I'd like to pursue here." She let her eyes drift up to find his again and she smiled.

Ronan stood, "Well, in that case, maybe I could walk you out."

"Thanks so much for meeting me here." Phyllis smiled as she passed the bag and stroller over to the sitter, "I shouldn't be very long."

"No problem. I'll just walk her over near the pond. She likes to see the ducks."

Phyllis stood, glancing around the crowded park as the sitter pushed Grace over by the pond. She glanced down at her cell phone. There were no missed calls, so she expected the meeting was still on as planned. She'd never been very good at waiting. Forcing a smile, she paced back and forth passed groups of people picnicking and talking, scanning the crowds to look for a familiar face. The agent had her number. Surely she'd call if she'd arrived and couldn't find her.

With a frustrated sigh, Phyllis collapsed onto a bench. This is what she'd always told her children. If you were lost, stay in one place—that way you're easier to find. She moved her head slowly from left to right, scanning each section of the park with precision. Her eyes fell on a tree in the far corner. In an instant her heart began to race. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be. She stood, her legs already trembling. Logic and rational thought were quickly overwhelmed by the simple idea of it being true and she bolted across the grass, babbling apologies to people as she pushed them aside. The closer she got the more certain she was. He was the same height, the same build. He had his skin, his hair….

She reached the tree, grabbing onto it and struggling for breath. Her chest burned as she gasped frantically, her sides ached and she found herself struggling to keep from falling.

"Miss? Miss? Are you alright?" A voice behind her called to her and all she could do was whisper.

"Billy."

He knocked on the door, resisting the urge to kick it down. He'd barely been able to understand her on the phone, her message was so garbled and almost incoherent. When he'd finally managed to calm her somewhat, he'd managed to understand that she was in her room and that she needed him to come… 'now'. If there was one thing he knew for certain, Phyllis Summers didn't ask for help. The fact that she'd called was a sure sign that something was terribly wrong. "Phyllis?" he called, leaning in close to the door, desperate to hear something, anything to let him know she was okay. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard footsteps.

"Hey," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her as she nearly collapsed into his arms. He stepped inside the room, pushing the door closed behind him as he walked her back into the living area and gently sat her down on the bed. He sat down beside her as he pushed the hair away from her face. One look at her eyes and he could tell she'd been crying for hours. "Is Grace alright?" Grace was the only thing he could think of that might put her in such a state.

Phyllis nodded. "She's with the sitter," she said quietly. "I couldn't let her see me like this…not like this."

"Phyllis," he sighed. "What's wrong? What on earth happened?"

She seemed to calm for a minute, her hands shaking a bit as she clasped his tightly in hers. "Ronan," she began, "I need your help. You've always been honest with me and I need you to tell me the truth..no matter what, okay?"

He shook his head, cupping her face in his hands, desperate to help her in any way he could. "Of course…of course I will."

"I know you've only been around for a little while and you only know what I've told you, but you've seen me recently and…." Her voice broke and he watched painfully as she struggled to regain what little composure she had left. "I need to know…Do you think…Do you think it's possible that I could be losing my mind?"

"What?" He stared at her for a moment, stroking her face again, brushing the hair that stuck to her face in the tear stained tracks away. "Why would you say that? No…No…You're not losing your mind. You're grieving. That's okay. You're allowed to be sad. You're allowed to have bad days."

"It's not a bad day," she sobbed. She looked up at him, hesitating, fearful.

"Phyllis," he breathed, "It's okay…just tell me. Whatever it is…just say it."

"I know how it sounds…ok? And I know it can't be true, so I'm not so far gone, right?" She forced a small smile before the tears came again. "Oh God, Ronan," she sobbed, "I swear I saw him today. I saw Billy."

Had she not been so upset, she probably would have noticed the look of abject terror on his face. Ronan fought to keep his composure as he gently wrapped her in his arms. "Hey, just relax. It's alright. It's all going to be alright. Just tell me what happened."

Phyllis leaned back, blinking as she looked up at him. "I don't know," she managed. "I was just waiting in the park for the agent." She paused. "I told about the agent right?" She doubted everything about herself in that moment. Nothing seemed to make sense.

"Yeah," he whispered, trying his best to calm her. He rested his hand on hers as she slowly began to still. "You did. You said you were meeting with her to try and find a place in Genoa City. Did you find anything?"

She shook her head, her mind drifting back to the park. "No…she…she…wasn't there. The sitter came and took Grace over to the pond to see the ducks." She smiled. "Grace loves the ducks."

Ronan sighed. "Yeah. I know she does. Maybe we can take her back there this weekend?"

"Yeah…maybe…."

He hated to ask more questions, hated bringing up something that caused her so much distress, but whatever had happened in the park today had clearly been enough to put her in this state. It had caused her to leave Grace with a sitter for the night and worse, it had caused her question her sanity. "Phyllis?" His voice was hesitant as he looked at her, his hand softly brushing her cheek, "You said you thought you saw Billy?"

Tears immediately rushed into her eyes, cascading down her cheeks. "I would have bet my life on it, Ronan. It looked so much like him."

It was the cry in her voice that killed him, the desperation and the longing that made him feel far worse than he ever thought possible. "What happened?" He was certain he didn't want to know the answer, but even more sure he had to.

She looked away, clearly embarrassed. "I chased after him," she said softly, glancing up for a moment before looking away again. "I just…I thought it was him. I really did. I mean, in my head I knew…or at least now I know it couldn't be because he's…..he's…" She couldn't bring herself to say the word. Somehow saying it made it more real and it just felt wrong.

Ronan shook his head. "So you chased him?"

"Yeah…and he took off. I'm sure he thought I was insane and he was just trying to get the hell out of dodge. It's just…." She sighed, looking up at him with the eyes that still broke his heart. "I don't' know…it just seemed so real. It wasn't even that I thought it looked like him…in that moment, I thought it was Billy and I had to get to him…as if somehow if I'd been able to catch him, he wouldn't be gone." She looked up, her eyes screaming with a desperation he hadn't seen there before. "I'm telling you, I think I might really be losing it."

He cupped her face in his hands. "The last thing you are is crazy. Do you hear me? You're hurting. It's okay to hurt. It's okay to break down. Everyone has a moment like this where they don't want to accept it…where they'd do anything to believe that the horrible thing isn't true. You just want him back so much…that's all. Your heart is just broken and it's trying to find a way to feel something besides that emptiness…."

His fingers danced gently against her face, carefully wiping away the tears. She closed her eyes, his words resonating within her soul. There was a truth there—an honesty. Ronan cared about her. He always had and now he wanted to be here, to help her, to heal her. She took a breath, lifting her eyes to meet his as she felt his lips softly brush hers. He was hesitant, tentative as if he was waiting for the moment that she'd pull away and tell him she couldn't do this. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him tighter against her, kissing him—really kissing him and then, finally, pulling back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, as if almost habit.

"Just wait here," she whispered, a small smile on her face. "I just need to go take care of something."

Ronan watched as she walked slowly from the room, glancing over her shoulder and shooting a smile at him before she stepped out. He quickly pulled out his phone, pressing the buttons he'd come accustomed to.

"Hey Ashley," he said softly, glancing back towards the door to make sure Phyllis didn't interrupt. "Billy—can I uh speak to…" His eyes closed as he heard the words he was most afraid of. "Yeah," he sighed. "Yeah, I thought maybe he was." He took a deep breath. "Listen, I uh..I don't have his personal cell number, so can you get in touch with him and give him my number. Ask him to give me a call, please. Tell him it's urgent." He waited. "Yeah, thanks."

He shoved the phone back in pocket, his mind racing with possibilities. There was no way to make this better. How did he tell her this? How could he make her understand?

"Well," she said softly, "That's a pretty serious expression for what I have planned."

Ronan looked up quickly, his heart beating rapidly as he saw Phyllis standing in front of him, a silk robe tied around her slight frame.

The breath left him quickly and he stared silently for a moment.

"I don't know that I've ever seen you at a loss for words," she whispered, stepping closer to him as she sat down on the bed next to him. Her hands rested on his shoulder as she looked at him.

"I…" he began. "You're beautiful and I would love nothing more than to…"

He felt her tense as she leaned back, her eyes widening a bit.

"Phyllis," he began.

"No," she said quickly, the look in her eyes a mix of shock and hurt. "I thought this was what you wanted."

"It is," he breathed. "God, it is, but I can't do this with you…not when…"

She stood in front of him, tears still shimmering in her eyes, her arms crossed. "Not when what?! I'm sorry if I'm not as over Billy as you'd like me to be, Ronan, but I can't promise you I'm ever going to be in a place where I don't ever think about him. I'm trying, damn it! I'm trying, but I still feel a connection to him. I know they say you have to move on, but that's hard when you still feel like someone is a part of you and I just…" The tears streamed down her face again and she huffed as she turned away from him. "I don't expect you to understand this."

"Phyllis," he whispered, "That's what I'm trying to tell you." He placed his hands on her shoulder, gently turning her around to face him. "I'm trying to tell you that there's a reason you feel that way. You thought you saw Billy today because you did."

She blinked, her entire body suddenly feeling numb. She reached for him, and allowed him to move her over to the chair. "What did you say?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I know…I know how it must sound, but you have to listen to me. You saw Billy today. Not someone you thought was Billy, not someone who looked like Billy, but Billy."

"No." She shook her head violently, running her hands over her face. "No. Billy is dead. He's dead. He died. He's gone." She felt his hands on her face as he forced her to look at him.

"No he's not," he said quietly. "He was in a car accident where he lost all his identification. He was found a few days later in an isolated area and taken to a local hospital. He's been there for nearly a year."

"That doesn't make any sense," she muttered, an uneasy calm now taking over, "If he was in a hospital why wouldn't they call us? Why wouldn't he call us?"

"He had no ID and the accident—he didn't remember…and he still doesn't. He doesn't know who he is." Ronan took a breath, hating that he had to ruin the miracle of the moment with words like this. "He doesn't know who you are…who any of his family is. He doesn't remember anything." Her sharp intake of breath startled him and he waited for the eventual onslaught of rage.

"Wait…Wait a minute." She struggled to stand, her hands trembling as she wrung them around and around each other. "How do you know all this? You know all this about him?"

"I know because I'm the one who found him. I went to the hospital. I identified him."

The look in her eyes was part shock, part anger, part disbelief. "You knew? You knew Billy was alive and you didn't tell me?"

"Phyllis….I knew a man that looked like Billy and sounded like Billy was alive. I also knew it would break your heart to see him and feel him and know that he felt nothing for you because he remembered nothing about you."

"That wasn't your choice to make!" she screamed, tears of rage now pouring from her eyes as she struggled for breath. "How dare you!" She struck out at him in anger and he allowed her to pound at his chest for several minutes before he gently grabbed her wrists.

"Please stop," he pleaded. "Phyllis…Phyllis, please." She thrashed against him for several minutes before finally collapsing into the chair out of sheer exhaustion. When she finally looked up at him, her eyes were desperate again.

"How long have you known?"

"Not that long," he sighed, "A couple weeks."

She closed her eyes, shaking her head in complete shock.

Ronan knelt down in front of her. "Listen, I'm not asking you to forgive me," he whispered, "but I still want to help you…whatever you believe about me, please believe that I genuinely want to make things better for you and for Grace. Billy is in Genoa City and I can help you find him. I can bring him here. Will you let me do that?"

Phyllis looked up at him, slowly standing to her feet. "After what you did," she said calmly, "I'd think that's the least you can do."

"Phyllis?" Ronan stood at the door, thankful it still remained partially open, but not stupid enough to step inside. "Phyllis, please—can you just give me a minute to try and explain?"

He heard movement inside and stepped back. She stood at the door, tears still streaming down her face. "I don't know how the hell you think you could possible explain something like this."

"You have every right to be angry with me," Ronan said softly.

"Really? You're going to stand here and try to justify my anger now? As if I needed your approval?"

"No," he sighed, "that's not what I meant…I just.. God," he slammed his hand into the wall, and looked back at her, tears now filling his own eyes. "It was a horrible thing that I did but I want you to understand that I felt terrible about it. Why do you think I kept pulling away from you?"

She paused for a moment. "So what? You want me to give you a pass because you had the decency to not sleep with me."

"That's not what I'm saying. I just mean…it's not like I didn't have guilt over this. It was eating me up knowing how much pain you were in, but I just kept thinking about how much pain you'd be in if he were back here. He doesn't remember you, Phyllis. He doesn't remember your life, your relationship, all the memories that you have—the ones that have gotten you through your loss—they don't exist to him." He watched as the words hit her and her face crumbled. "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you, but you aren't to him what he is to you. I just wanted to spare you that. I didn't want to watch you lose him again."

Phyllis reached up, wiping her tears from her face. "That isn't your call. You don't know how I would feel about this. And what about Grace?" She gripped her chest as she thought of her daughter. "Ronan, she's his daughter. Were you really okay with never telling her that her father was alive?"

"No..No of course not, but this is new to me too, Phyllis…and if you want me to be honest with you, it felt so good to be close to you again and Grace is amazing. I thought maybe you and I could have something real and then I…"

Her eyes widened, "So you'd just step right in and then who needs Billy, right?"

"No. Damn it. None of this is right. You don't understand."

Phyllis took a step towards him, her eyes now shining with tears. "I'll tell you what I'm absolutely sure of," she said, her voice shaking in anger, "I'm sure that you know where Billy is right now, or at the very least, you have a pretty good idea of how to contact him, so every moment I'm spending here screaming at you is a minute I could be spending with the man I love."

Ronan shook his head. "Alright," he whispered. "I'll find him. I swear to you. I'll find him and I'll bring him back to you and then I'm going to fix this…I don't know how, but I'm going to fix this."

Ronan drove slowly, his eyes roaming the streets. This was insane. He couldn't imagine Billy would be walking down the street in the middle of the night, but he had to do something. He had to try and find him. He owed Phyllis that much. The sound of his phone ringing brought instant relief and he glanced down to see a number he didn't recognize. Quickly, he brought the phone to his ear. "Hello," he said anxiously.

"Ronan?" Billy struggled to stay calm. He'd all but verbally accosted Ashley on the phone even though she'd sworn Ronan hadn't given her any more details—only that it was an emergency and that he needed him to call him at this number as soon as possible. "It's Billy. I got your message. Ashley said it was important. Is something wrong?" It felt weird to be worried about people you didn't know, but somehow he felt he should know her and then there was his daughter. Memories or not, he needed to know that she was alright.

The familiar pang of guilt welled up inside him again. He hadn't considered how the message would sound to Billy. "Yeah, Yeah. I'm sorry about that, man. I didn't mean to worry you. Everyone's fine. It's just…" He paused. "Look, I know you're probably gonna be a bit pissed at me and it sure as hell wasn't my place to do it but, Phyllis knows you're alive. She knows you're in town."

Billy let out a long breath. "Yeah," he sighed. "I uh…I saw her in the park this afternoon. I was afraid she might have figured it out."

"Well, to be honest. She was pretty sure she was hallucinating. In fact, she called me over to her place insisting that she was going crazy and I almost managed to convince her she was just grieving, but I just couldn't do it. She misses you too much. I can't watch her suffer like this and even if you don't know her—even if you don't remember anything about her or your life together, it will mean something to her to just see you, to know you're alive, to know you're alright."

"She wants to see me?" Billy took a seat on the edge of the small bed. In his mind, he'd expected this would come eventually, but never this soon.

"Yeah, she does. I'd like to come pick you up from wherever you are and bring you to her place. Can we do that?" Ronan waited, hearing nothing on the end of the line. "Billy?" he repeated.

"Yeah," Billy finally whispered. "Yeah, we can do that."

Ronan stepped up to the door, looking back over his shoulder and waiting for Billy to join him. "You okay?" he asked as he clasped his hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know," Billy admitted. "There's not exactly a game plan for this. I don't know what to say to her." He looked up at Ronan. "I don't want to hurt her."

Ronan shook his head. "I wish I knew what to tell you..but I don't…"

Suddenly the door swung open and Phyllis stood in the doorway. "Ronan," she whispered, "I thought I heard your voice. Listen, I was thinking about this…maybe it's too soon..maybe Billy would rather come in his own time. Maybe he doesn't want to see me or…" She stopped talking, realizing for the first time that Ronan hadn't said and word and instead simply stared at her. "What's wrong?" she said quietly.

He stepped to the side, saying nothing as he watched her eyes widen and almost immediately fill with tears. Her hand flew to her mouth to silence the scream that threatened to alert the entire building.

"Why don't we step inside," Ronan said quietly, taking her shoulders and gently easing her inside the room. He looked back at Billy and gestured for him to follow.

"Here you go." She took the glass of water and struggled to hold it in her trembling hands. "I'm sorry," she whispered, forcing herself to look away. "I know you must think I'm insane. I'm just staring at you, but…" Her voice broke. "God, Billy, you have no idea how much I've missed you." She stepped closer to him, her hand reaching up to touch his face but, after catching the look in his eye, drawing back. "I'm sorry," she said again, tears again streaking down her cheeks. "Ronan told me that you don't remember. I don't mean to push."

"It's okay." Billy forced a smile as he looked at her. "I'd really like to remember. I want to remember. I just…"

Phyllis looked down at her dress, smoothing the front of it before looking back up at him. "This was your favorite," she said quietly. "You said it brought out the color of my eyes." Her voice shook as she said the words, desperate to see some flicker of recognition on his face but instead seeing a blank stare intertwined with basic compassion. He felt sorry for her, just as he'd feel for anyone else.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I really am. It's a beautiful dress. You have beautiful eyes. You're beautiful. I just….I don't….." He stopped talking, his eyes falling on a picture that sat behind her. "Is that?" He walked over, pointing to a framed photo. He picked it up, holding it close to him. "Grace, right?"

She closed her eyes, trying uselessly not to cry. "Yes," she managed, sighing in frustration as she felt fresh tears escape. "That's your daughter. That's Grace."

"Is she here?"

"No. She's…she's actually with the sitter tonight. You can meet her tomorrow. You'll love her. She looks so much like you. Remember how you used to say that you hoped…" She stopped, realizing that he remembered noting of their time together. Every memory, every touch, every word he'd ever said to her was now a completely one-sided story that he might never again share with her. Her heart broke as she looked up at him. To her, he was the man she loved with all her heart. To him, she was a stranger.

"I'm sorry, but I can't…I can't stay here," she whispered. She grabbed her coat, throwing it on as she headed towards the door. Gripping her purse in her hands she headed out the door.

Ronan looked up, his eyes falling on Billy.

"I don't know what to do," Billy said quietly. "I hate doing this to her. She wants me to remember so badly and I just don't. I can't."

"I know one thing," Ronan said sternly. "You need to go after her. You might not remember her, but I'll tell you from experience…that's not a woman you let walk out of your life."

She jumped up quickly as she heard movement behind her.

"Sorry." Billy held up his hands as he approached her slowly. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to see if you were okay…the way you ran out of there…"

Phyllis shook her head. "The truth?" She sighed, "No. I'm not okay and I don't know why I came here, but it's where I've come the last year when I needed clarity or support or to feel closer to him." She glanced up at him.. "or you."

Billy nodded, kneeling down on the ground beside her. "This is weird."

There was silence for a moment and she laughed a bit, laughing harder as he looked over at her, his eyes widening a bit. "I'm sorry," she muttered, "that's just the most honest thing I've heard in a while. Yeah, this is definitely weird…I can't imagine how it would feel to look at your own headstone. Not many people get a chance to do that."

"No." He smiled as he glanced over at her. "I guess you're right about that. It's a small club. Is there video of the funeral? I'd like to see that?" He stopped, hesitating as her face grew serious. "Hey," he whispered, "I'm sorry…that was too far. I was just trying to lighten things up. I didn't mean to.."

"It's not that," she said softly, "It's just…videos..there are some you'd probably like to see. Grace's birth and her christening..I think there's even some videos of the baby showers…"

"Yeah. I'd like to see all of that." Silence settled over them again. He looked at the stone, marveling at the strangeness of seeing his name above a date of death. When he looked back at her, he saw her eyes fixed on his. "What is it?" he asked softly.

"It's just strange. The past year whenever I wanted to talk to you, I'd come here and now I'm here and I'm actually talking to you, but you…you're…." She couldn't continue, the words too painful to even say. She turned her head, not wanting him to see her cry. He'd seen enough of that already.

Billy sat helplessly, not sure of what to do. He extended his hand, placing it gently on her shoulder, feeling her body tense immediately. Her head turned slowly towards him, her eyes staring into his. "You don't have to do that," he said softly. "I'm sorry that this is hurting you. I don't know how to make it better. I wish I did, but you don't have to pretend it's not difficult for you. I know it is."

She nodded. "I guess it's just…after you died…" She shook her head, "After we thought you died, I would dream at night about someone coming to me and telling me that it had all been a mistake. I would imagine what it would be like when I would see you again and I held onto that for a long time. I never felt you leave me and then, when I found out I was pregnant, I thought maybe that was why. At first I was terrified. I was afraid that every time I looked at our baby I would be devastated all over again, but then I realized that baby was the only part of you I had left and that as long as that baby was here, a little part of you would always be with me. That's what kept me going. Grace was the only reason I survived most days. And even though she filled a huge hole inside of me, I still had that dream that you would come back and I could wrap my arms around you and hold you and remember what it felt like to be close to you. And now, the dream has come true, but it isn't at all like it's supposed to be…."

He shook his head, a little in awe of how she could put her feelings into words so easily. "I don't what to say except I'm sorry," he whispered. "I really am. I wish I remembered. It sounds like we were happy and I wish I could remember everything you're talking about. I wish I could be the person you've been waiting for. I can't make myself remember, but I can do one thing…"

He stood, taking her hands in his and pulling her up to stand next to him. He could see the confusion and hesitation in her eyes as she watched him. "Come here," he said softly as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him. He could feel her hesitation, her stress, her almost trepidation as she stood tense in his arms, but as he gently coaxed her head to rest against his shoulder, he felt the release. "It's alright," he whispered, as he felt her back shake with a sob. "It's alright."

There were no memories of their life together, but some things simply felt natural and this was one of them. He allowed his head to rest against hers as he drew in a breath, the smell of her shampoo and….

"That smell…" He pulled away quickly, one hand on each of her shoulders.

"What?" she breathed, tears still soaking her cheeks.

"Scarlett Mist," he said excitedly, a smile forming on his face. "Scarlett Mist, right? That's what you're wearing?"

Her eyes sparkled as she looked at him. "Yes, that's right. Do you remember that? You remember that's the perfume I wear?"

"Not exactly." He stopped, taking a breath and calming himself. It was one thing to get ahead of himself and get overly excited. It was quite another to get her hopes up and then send them crashing down again. She'd been through enough. "When I was in the hospital, one of the nurses had this perfume and when I smelled it, I remembered it. I knew I'd smelled it before. I remembered it and I knew it was important. Do you wear it a lot?"

She smiled up at him, her eyes now brighter than he'd ever seen them. "Yeah. Actually, it's a scent that Jack, your brother, developed for me. I wear it all the time..every day. You used to love it. You remembered it?" Tears formed in her eyes again and she began to raise her hand to brush them away."

His hand touched her face first, his fingertips slowly brushing away the tear. "I did," he said softly. "I remembered the perfume and I remembered that I missed it."

"You didn't have to follow me back," she said softly as she walked up to the door, "And you certainly didn't have to walk me to the door." She turned to face him. It was so strange to be in this position with him. To her, nothing had changed. Time had passed, but the feelings were still there perhaps even stronger than they'd been before. It would seem so natural to reach up and touch his face, to lean in and softly kiss him…

"It's no problem, really. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay." He looked at her, her eyes shining up at him. Looking down at her, he couldn't help but smile.

"What is it?" she asked softly, her words floating through the air like music.

He sighed. "I may not remember, but I can tell by the way you look at me…we were good…we were real?"

Tears stung her eyes as she heard him say the words, words it had taken her far too long to admit and even longer to finally say. "Yes," she whispered, "we were very real…you were everything to me and I like to think I was everything to you too. If you hadn't had the accident, we were going to get married. We'd talked about it, but you insisted that we couldn't yet because I would be expecting the proposal and you had to find a way to surprise me. You were always romantic like that."

It was amazing to him to watch her as she talked about him this way. It was as if she was recounting some beautiful movie, but the scenes were actual moments from his life. "Look," he said softly, hesitating a little, "If uh..if you're not doing anything…I know you said Grace is gonna stay with the sitter tonight…maybe you could tell me a little more about the things we did or show me some pictures." He stopped, the surprise on her face startling him. "Unless you think it's too soon…I can come back another day…"

"No..No..not at all. I'd love it if you'd come in. Um..unless you think it's too soon."

Billy shook his head, following her inside.

"I didn't really get a chance to say it earlier, but please excuse the mess," she said with a smile. "It's a little crazy with a baby in such tight quarters."

"I'm sure," he nodded. "Why uh…why are you in a hotel…Did we not have a house?"

She stopped, turning to face him. "No, we did…I just…I couldn't stay there after you…well, after the accident. Actually, I left town for a while. I took a job in Chicago and I moved there to try and put some distance between me and the memories."

"Did it work?" There was something about her, something that drew him. Though she was still very new to him in a way, there was a part of her that felt familiar and comfortable.

"No," she whispered. "Because you were in here." She placed her hand over her heart. "And everywhere I went, I just took you with me." She took a breath, sensing the awkwardness of the moment, "And then of course there was Grace, who was in here…" She placed her hand on her now-flat stomach.

She stooped down to grab a cloth album. "There's not a ton of pictures in here, but I do have some videos if you'd like to see them. This is the baby book I've been putting together for her."

Billy opened the cover, flipping page by page slowly, his eyes roaming over footprints and hospital photos. "She's how old now?"

Phyllis smiled. "A little over five months…it goes by so fast. It's like you blink and she's doing all these things that she couldn't do yesterday." She stopped herself, realizing how it must feel to him, realizing he's missed so much. "She's gonna be crazy about you," she whispered, touching his arm softly. "I can't wait for you to meet her."

"Me too," he managed, his voice raspy with emotion.

"The video," she said quickly, standing up and moving to the shelf. "I almost forgot."

"Actually," he said softly, reaching out and grabbing her arm, "Would it be alright if we waited on that. I'm not sure I can handle that right now."

"Sure," she nodded, sitting down on the end of the bed beside him. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I've been so busy thinking about how hard this must be for me that I really haven't considered how it must feel to you."

"Don't feel sorry for me," he said looking up at her. "I survive an accident that, by all rights, should have killed me. I come home and find out I have a beautiful girlfriend and a healthy baby girl. I've won the lottery. I just feel like you and Grace—you've drawn the short straw."

"Don't you say that!" her words came out quickly as her eyes flashed in anger. The shock on his face jolted her back to reality and she pulled back, calming herself before she spoke again. "Sorry," she whispered. "I just…I don't ever want you to feel that I'm anything but grateful to have you back. Yes, it's been difficult to know that you don't remember, but I have to believe that the memories will come back."

"And if they don't?" It was the question he'd wanted to ask since the moment he'd laid eyes on her, but he'd been afraid to. Taking advantage of his certain burst of courage seemed to be the only sensible thing to do.

"I don't know," she admitted. "We'll figure something out." She looked at him. "Is there anything else you remember? Anything at all?"

"I don't even know if this will make sense to you," he sighed. "You know that show…I think it's called something Abbey.."

Phyllis nodded. "You mean Downton Abbey?"

"That's the one," he nodded. "Well, I have this weird, fuzzy memory of being in a room in a house kind of like the ones they have in that show. I can't see anything..it's dark..and there's the sound like rain pouring down, but I can't see the rain."

Phyllis stared at him, her breath catching in her throat. "Anything else?" She tried not to jump to conclusions, trying desperately not to get her hopes up too high.

"A smell," he said quietly, closing his eyes to try and remember more, "like a burning…and heat…like the smell of burning.."

He opened his eyes to see tears streaming down her cheeks. "What?" he breathed. "What's the matter?"

She smiled through her tears and brushed them away from her face. "That smell was a fire in the fireplace. There was a thunderstorm that knocked out all the power and it was cold so we found an old rocking chair that we used for firewood." She looked into his eyes as she continued to talk. "It was raining and thundering and the wind was blowing so hard that it blew a tree down that blocked the driveway so we couldn't leave and that house you're describing….that's the Chancellor mansion…that's where we lived. That was our home."

Billy nodded slowly. "Wow," he breathed. "That's a weird night to remember..I guess I was hoping for something more meaningful than that." He stopped speaking as he saw her eyes flash.

"That's not how the story ends," she whispered.

"How did it end?"

She leaned in close to him, questioning her choices all the way, but throwing all caution to the wind as she softly pressed her lips to his. "Like that," she said softly, as she pulled away. "That was the first night you kissed me."

She half expected him to run, but instead she leaned into his hand as it lightly stroked her cheek. "Oh," he breathed, his eyes never once leaving hers, "It's got to be damn hard to forget something like that."

Billy looked up. "Sorry," he said quickly, "I hope I didn't wake you."

Phyllis smiled, feeling oddly awkward in the moment with him. She stepped further into the kitchen. "No," she said softly, "not at all—the sitter is gonna be bringing Grace by in a bit, so I was already getting up. I hope you were able to find everything okay."

"Yeah-I was. I just wanted to make some coffee."

"Did you sleep alright?" She smiled weakly as she looked at him. He was wearing the t-shirt and lounge pants she'd given him. A few weeks after the accident, she'd gone through most of his clothing, donating what she could to a local homeless shelter, but she'd kept a few things—things that reminded her of him. A white t-shirt and lounge pants were his staples for a lazy Sunday or any day really if he could convince her to stay home with him.

"It was great. I told you I've been in a hospital bed…the twin bed in Grace's room was like the Hilton."

"Good..Good," she sighed. "It's not great, but it's the only place I had to stick a guest bed in a hotel suite."

"Trust me, I was perfectly comfortable," he smiled, "And now I've gone and made myself perfectly comfortable in your kitchen."

"It's fine." She shifted a bit, drawing in a breath. "You don't have to ask for permission to do anything here…these are as much your things as they are mine…I mean they would be if…" She looked away, feeling uneasy.

"Here," he said quickly, desperate to break the tension in the room.

"Thanks," she smiled, stepping into the living room and feeling him following close behind her. Her eyes fell on the photo albums scattered across the couch.

"I uh..I was just looking." He reached over, stacking them back on the shelf. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overstep." He heard her shaky sigh and turned to face her, seeing her sitting on the bed, her head in her hands. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head, looking up at him and he could see by the sheen in her eyes that tears were coming. "I just hate that it's like this," she whispered. "We were never like this."

"Like what?" he asked, honestly confused.

"Awkward, apologetic…like we're walking on eggshells with each other. We could talk about anything. There was no judgment. There was nothing off limits and now….it's like we can't even be in the same room together without it feeling like someone has sucked all the air out."

"That's my fault." Billy took a seat beside her. "I'm sorry."

"Please stop apologizing. It's not anyone's fault. I just wish…" Her eyes stared into his for a moment. It still took her breath away and it seemed unbelievable to her that he didn't feel the same. "I just wish you still felt something for me."

He leaned a bit closer. Her eyes were so earnest, and there was something almost intoxicating about being next to her. He could feel the warmth of her body beside his.

Phyllis jumped as the knock on the door echoed through the silent room.

"That'll be the sitter with Grace," she said, already feeling the lump in her throat. She looked over at Billy. "You ready for this?"

He paced back and forth in front of the couch, wringing his hands in an effort to expel some nervous energy. Hearing the door shut, he felt a wave of nausea come over him. How was he supposed to do this? How was he supposed to step back into the life of his nearly-five month old daughter?

"How's Mommy's sweet girl?"

Phyllis stepped into the room, holding Grace close to her as she looked up at Billy. Tears stung her eyes as she struggled for words. "Grace," she whispered, smiling as she looked down at her, "We have a visitor."

Billy closed the distance between them, staring down at the baby girl for the first time. "She's even more beautiful in person," he whispered, reaching out and barely touching her.

"You can hold her," Phyllis said quietly.

"No..she doesn't want me to hold her. She doesn't even know me." Billy stepped back.

"She'll get to know you. Here…take her." Phyllis eased Grace into his arms and stepped back, taking a deep breath as she took in the moment.

Billy took a deep breath, struggling to relax as he stared into the wide eyes of the baby girl. "I know you don't know me," he whispered, "It's okay…"

Her tiny face was still for a moment before scrunching up and letting out an ear piercing wail.

"You should take her." His eyes looked up at Phyllis' desperately. "She's afraid of me. Please…"

Phyllis shook her head, reaching out and taking the baby girl back into her arms. A few whispered words and a practiced shuffle and the baby quieted, burying her face into her mother's chest. "Billy," Phyllis whispered, "she'll learn to love you. It's just new right now…that's all."

"I know." He smiled. "She doesn't remember anything either. We're both meeting each other for the first time."

Phyllis nodded, gesturing over to the swing. "She loves the swing," she said smiling, "If we're lucky, you'll get to hear that sweet little laugh."

Billy held the swing still as he watched Phyllis settle Grace into the harness. He'd missed so much time with his daughter. He didn't want to miss anymore.

Phyllis walked back into the living room, removing the burp cloth from her shoulder. She smiled at Billy as he looked up at her with wide eyes. "Well, you've had about four hours of Grace—you ready to take over for me?"

"What?" He stood, his breath catching in his throat.

"I'm kidding," she giggled. "I just meant you seem a bit overwhelmed by all this." She paused, studying his face. "You don't have to stay, you know. I know this must be kind of crazy for you. We don't have to do everything at once. You can see her whenever you want and I'm not going anywhere."

"Actually," he said quietly, "If it's okay, I'd kind of like to see that video now."

"Oh, the uh…the video of her birth?"

"Yeah…" He saw the look on her face, the way her eyes shifted slightly as he'd said the words, "Unless you've changed your mind. I don't have to watch it.."

"No..No. You're welcome to see it. I just…It's…" She swallowed, trying to force herself not to feel what she did. She wanted to be strong, to be content with what they had in the moment, but she couldn't help but wondering what might have been different….

"Phyllis?" Billy said quizzically.

"I'll get the video," she said quickly, moving to walk towards the shelf. She stopped when she felt his hand on her arm.

"Forget the video for a minute." His words were serious as he pulled her back in front of him. "What's going on? What aren't you saying? You said we could talk about anything, so why are you holding out on me now?"

"Damn," she hissed under her breath as the tear crept down her cheek. "I just…Watching the videos and looking the pictures and telling the stories…It just reminds me of everything that we lost and when I think about the fact that even one day could have been given back to us because of…." She took another breath… "Because of Ronan. I'm just angry. That's all. I'm really angry."

"I know, ok? I know." She sighed when she saw him look up at her, confusion in his dark eyes. "I know I should just be grateful that you're here, that you're back, that you're here with me and Grace, but I can't help it…this anger it just creeps up inside of me and I have nowhere for it to go and I just…" She took a shaky breath. "So there, I said it. Go ahead…"

Billy took a seat beside her on the couch. "You know you have a right to feel whatever it is that you're feeling. I'm certainly not going to tell you any differently if that's what you're thinking." He heard a burst of air leave her lips and he smiled. "Is that how it used to be?"

"No." The word left her mouth quickly. She looked up at him, her eyes softening as she saw his face, his eyes hesitant. "No, you were never like that. I just feel like it's what everyone's thinking. I'm not happy enough. I'm not joyful enough, but this isn't easy."

"That's my fault," he said quietly, hanging his hand.

She placed her hand on his arm. "It's not your fault," she whispered. "It's just the situation. This whole damn situation and it was just made even more complicated by Ronan and his stupid plan to…" Her voice trailed off as she saw Billy's head shaking solely. "What?"

He reached into his pocket, pulling out his square photo. "Hear me out, okay?" He could see the fire already flashing in his eyes and he held up a hand to placate her for a moment. "Look at this." He handed her the photo and he watched in silence as her eyes widened a bit.

"Where do you get this?"

"Where do you think?"

She swallowed hard as she stared at the image. Her eyes closed, her head dropped over her sleeping daughter. "Ronan," she whispered, emotion and questions floating in her voice.

Billy nodded. "I get that you're angry he didn't tell you the second he knew and I know I've had a bit longer to come to terms with that than you have, but I've got to say, I get where the guy was coming from. He didn't do this to hurt you. He wasn't trying to keep me away from you. He was trying to keep you from getting hurt. He gave me this picture. He promised to keep in touch. He just wanted to keep you safe…to be there. That's all. He went about it the wrong way, but he had the right things in his mind. I just think you ought to know that."

Phyllis jumped slightly at the sound of the knock on the door. Billy had left nearly an hour ago and she'd been frozen in virtually the same spot ever since. She couldn't get his words out of her mind. Ronan had the right things in his mind. Did that mean he wanted her to give Ronan a chance? Did he not want to try and make things work between the two of them?

Her heart beat faster as she walked quickly to the door, glancing towards Grace's room and hoping the knocking wouldn't wake her yet. She pulled up the door. "Ashley," she breathed, her voice betraying her surprise. "I didn't expect to see you today. I'm sorry, but Grace is actually napping."

Ashley smiled. "I didn't come here to see Grace, actually. I was wondering if we might be able to talk. I brought lunch." She held up two bags and forced a smile. Though she and Phyllis had called a truce after Grace's birth, their interactions were still civil at best. Friendly lunch visits were still quite the stretch.

"Uh, sure..okay." Phyllis stepped aside, watching with interest as Ashley walked past her. "Don't take this the wrong way, Ashley, but we don't eat lunch together and you never stop by to talk to me unless it's to berate me about something and I've got to be honest…I'm really not up for it today."

"Phyllis, I promise. I'm not here to give you a hard time. I honestly came here to try and make things better. I swear." She laughed a bit at Phyllis' narrowed eyes. "Oh, come on! Would you stop being so suspicious and just get us some plates."

The sound of the fork hitting the plate startled her and Ashley's eyes widened.

"Alright," Phyllis sighed, "You've critiqued every food item here. We've talked about Grace and Fenmore's and Jabot. You've complimented my outfit and even made a few frivolous comments on the weather. At any point are you actually going to get to the point and tell me what you're actually doing here?"

Ashley sighed, but smiled slightly. "Honestly?"

Phyllis nodded.

"I wanted to talk about Billy."

"Ashley…I thought we'd gotten past this.."

"No..not like that," she interrupted, "I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help. It's just.." She paused, shaking her head as she thought back on how everything had happened between them. "The two of you went through so much to be together and then you had what—a few months of happiness and now…"

"I know," Phyllis took a sip from her glass. "I wanted to believe it would work out. I really did, but he was just here a bit ago and I don't know if that's what he wants anymore." The sound of the words leaving her mouth made them even more real and she felt her eyes burn with the tears.

Ashley shook her head. "Oh, I don't believe that for a second. What did he say?"

"He was defending Ronan..trying to get me to understand why he kept the news from me. It was almost like he wanted me to be with him and not…" She couldn't say it again—couldn't make herself say the words aloud once more.

"Phyllis," Ashley breathed, "He's just…he's trying to help you get through this the only way he knows how right now. You two loved each other. It took me a long time to realize it but once I accepted it, I have to say you were good for my brother. I never saw him as happy as he was when he was with you and when he was gone…Well, it broke my heart to see you like that. I have to believe the two of you can get through this."

"I want that Ashley, I do, but this is like losing him all over again…but it happens every day…in every moment. Every time I look at him and I think I see a flash in him and then it's not. I don't know how much longer I can take it."

Ashley reached across the table, lightly touching her hand. "Listen," she whispered, "Just promise you won't give up on him yet. He needs you and you need him. You have a beautiful daughter and I have to believe that all this didn't happen so that it ends like this."

Phyllis nodded, her mind going back to years ago when Billy had promised her their story didn't end badly. She looked up at Ashley and smiled. "Yeah," she whispered, "that's not the way this story ends."

"Hey." His voice was soft as he pulled the door open and waited for her to step inside. Grace turned into her chest, clutching her body and pulling away from him.

Phyllis glanced up with apologetic eyes. "She just woke up from a nap," she sighed, "She'll warm up a bit."

Billy nodded, trying to at least pretend to believe that was the reason. In truth, Grace wasn't becoming the least bit comfortable with him. Maybe it was because she could sense how tense it was between them, how much he felt like he let Phyllis down every time he couldn't remember the memories and the moments she described. It had been weeks now and each time she visited, he felt like he hurt her even more.

"I brought you more albums," she said cheerfully. "Your sister sent some from when you were younger and then I found the first professional pictures I had taken of Grace…I don't think you've seen those yet." She glanced up, smiling at him, her eyes full of hope—just as they always were, until he ruined it. "And then there's these…"

He walked over towards the couch, glancing down at Grace who was now happily settled on her play mat. "What are they?" Billy let his eyes glance over to the stack that still remained in her hands. By the look on her face, he could tell it meant something—this was a moment she desperately wanted him to remember.

"I uh…we…before we really started seeing each other publically, we were together a few times at the Abbott cabin, but that really wasn't a place that we could call ours and you wanted us to have a place like that…somewhere that would be special for us." Her hand trembled a bit as she held the pictures out towards him.

It was like literal pressure surrounded him as he slowly flipped through the pictures. He saw their faces and he could tell, without a doubt, that he'd been happy there. That they'd been happy in that place and in that moment, but nothing about it seemed familiar. He looked up at her, the hope shining in her eyes. "I…"

"Do you remember?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I…"

She stood quickly, turning her back. She'd done everything she knew to do and nothing had worked. Ashley had asked her not to give up, but more and more this felt like torture both for her and for him. Maybe she had lost him—not in the way she'd thought, but in every way that really mattered. The Billy she loved had died that night in that accident. Maybe it was time to accept that.

"You know what?," her breath nearly caught in her throat, but she forced herself to continue, "I really should go."

Billy rose quickly, meeting her where she stood across the room. "So soon? You just got here."

"I can't….I just can't…" Her voice betrayed her and she glanced up at him one last time. She rushed over to Grace, gathering her quickly in her arms and rushing for the door. "I'll call you later," she breathed as she disappeared into the foyer.

He stood frozen in place until the heard the heavy wooden door close. His eyes followed her as she walked to the car, wiping what he thought were tears off her cheeks as she strapped Grace into the carseat. It seemed strange, watching her from the window like this…as if she was talking everything in his world with him…even if he didn't know how much it meant to him.

"I know, baby." Phyllis lifted Grace out of the car seat. "You don't like being strapped in there, do you?" Her daughter's sweet smile made her laugh softly. She was the only thing that could possibly bring any joy to her right now.

She stepped into the coffeehouse, happy to see it was busy enough not to allow her to be the center of attention.

"Phyllis?"

Her head turned towards the sound of her name and she breathed in relief.

"Ronan." It was strange that her first instinct was to smile. Somehow her anger had dissipated over the weeks and, after talking to him a few times, she'd really started to see the reasons behind what he'd done. It wasn't exactly that she agreed, and she'd probably never completely understand, but she knew it wasn't his intention to hurt her and right now, that was enough.

"It's good to see you," he whispered, walking over to her hesitantly. He smiled broadly as Grace stretched her arms out towards him. "Hey you," he smiled, reaching for her and easily taking her into his arms.

"Well, someone certainly missed you," Phyllis grinned.

"Just her?"

They walked over to the table, and took a seat. Phyllis watched as Grace smiled up, her hand slowly touching the stubble on his face as she usually did. "No," she said softly, "I missed you too. It's really good to see you."

"You too. I've been thinking about you. I wanted to call, but…"

"Why didn't you?"

Ronan shook his head. "It wasn't my place to interfere. I know you and Billy are trying to work things out. I know that's what you want and I think in time, he'll realize it's what he wants too." He studied her face as he said the words. The pain in her eyes was palpable. "Hey," he said softly, "What's up? What happened?"

"It's just…I'm not sure Billy and I are gonna happen. He doesn't remember anything, Ronan and I don't know if I can keep pretending that everything is just going to work out. It just hurts too damn much." Tears filled her eyes almost instantly, the realization setting in as the words left her lips. It was hard enough to entertain the thoughts in her mind, but saying them out loud, especially to another person…it made it real.

This was what he wanted, wasn't it? Didn't he want her to give up on Billy—so that she'd be free to be with him? Maybe so, but her tears weren't supposed to be part of the equation. "Maybe you just need to give it some time."

"How much time?" she asked, the desperation screaming in her voice. "It's been almost a month, Ronan and nothing…just a stupid perfume…I can't…."

He was quiet for a moment, considering his words. "How about if you just got away for a bit…maybe just took Grace away for a few days..a long weekend. Do something fun…something to just get your mind off all this craziness. It would take the pressure off all of you."

Phyllis nodded. "It sounds like a good idea, but traveling with a baby isn't as relaxing as you might think," she smiled.

"What if I came along?" He saw the look of shock in her eyes, and quickly added… "Just to help with Grace..no pressure."

A part of her felt as if she should turn him down, but the other part of her felt this would be a break…a chance for her to let herself heal and maybe a moment for her to accept what her life might be like with Billy in it, but without him as a part of it.

"I'd like that," she said quietly.

She sat in the car, her heart pounding. She was thankful the sitter had been available at the last minute. This wasn't exactly what she wanted Grace to witness—even though she had no reason to believe this would be ugly. Billy didn't remember what they had, why would he fight not trying to get it back.

The walk to the front door seemed like an impossible feat and when she finally made it there, her hand felt impossibly heavy as she lifted it to knock on the door. The sight of his face standing there almost sent her running back towards the car.

"I was wondering how long you were gonna sit out there," he said, the smile she loved so much playing across his face.

"Oh," she said, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "I didn't realize you saw me. I was just thinking.."

"It's okay. You need to go back out there or have you thought enough?"

She smiled, her nerves getting the better of her as she fidgeted with her hands. "I'm good now," she breathed. "Can I come in?"

He stepped aside, waiting for her walk in.

She'd barely passed him and heard the door close when she turned around, surprised to see him facing her. "Look, Billy, I don't want to drag this out, so I'm just gonna say what I came here to say."

"Okay."

'It's not really him.' She said the words silently to herself as she looked into those eyes—the eyes she'd stared into so many times. "You know you'll always be Grace's father and I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that the two of you have an opportunity to build your relationship, but us…what we had it was once in a lifetime and I don't think we can recreate that."

He stared at her. "What are you trying to say, Phyllis?"

"I just…I can't keep doing this. I can't keep trying to make you remember because it hurts too damn much, Billy and it's not fair. It's not fair to me and it's not fair to you. Grace doesn't deserve to feel this tension between us and it's just got to stop." She could feel the weight of his eyes on her and she looked away. "Anyway," she managed, "that's what I wanted to say. I'm actually going to be going out of town for a few days, but I'll be in touch and I'm…" Her composure was slipping and the last thing she wanted was for him to see her fall apart. "I'm just gonna go now." She headed towards the door, pushing past him but immediately feeling his arm grip her wrist.

"Phyllis, Wait."

She jerked away. "Let me go," she breathed, looking up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. She stopped for a moment as she caught a look in his eye. He stood completely still, his arm wrapped around her wrist.

For a moment, she'd swear neither of them breathed until she felt him pull her close to him. "Before," he whispered, "We've been here before." Her slight gasp was the only answer he needed. His hand shook as he reached up, brushing her hair from her face.

"You were wearing a blue shirt with buttons…and a black skirt." He paused, letting the moment play in his mind like a movie, the images slowly coming into focus—"You were leaving and I stopped you and then…."

"What?" The one word was the best she could muster. Her heart beat furiously inside her chest, but the rational side of her tried to keep her expectations in check. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe. "Then what?"

She felt him push her backwards and she followed his lead, already feeling the tears in her eyes as she knew where he was heading. Her back rested against the wall as his hand gently cupped her face.

"And then I did this," he whispered, pressing his lips to hers.

She sighed, laying her head on his bare chest as he pulled the chenille throw up over them.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

Lifting her head a bit, her eyes met his. "Okay?" She shook her head. "Okay isn't the word for what I am. I don't even know a word to describe what I am right now."

Billy smiled as he pressed his lips to her forehead. "I don't know how I could forget this," he said softly.

"But you remember now?" she whispered, "Right? You remember?"

He nodded, "It's like a switch was flipped. I remember this and the cabin, and our non-trip to Montreal, and everything else. I remember all the plans we made, and the dreams we had, how much we loved each other…" His fingertips ran through her hair and he smiled as her eyes fluttered closed. "But those memories aren't nearly enough," he whispered, his lips brushing against her cheek.

Phyllis' eyes opened. "What? What do you mean?"

"I don't just want to remember," he smiled. "I want to create some new memories and since you said Grace is with the sitter tonight." He smiled as he stood, wrapping the throw around her and lifting her in his arms. "That means you and I have all night."

She giggled as they headed up the stairs.

Ronan walked slowly beside the window. It was ironic. He'd only stopped by to see if Billy was really okay with him dating Phyllis. He wanted to make sure he was honest and upfront, but that wouldn't matter now. Phyllis wasn't available—maybe she never really had been.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the three plane tickets to Florida. He'd wanted this to be their chance to see what it would be like—to "test drive" being a family, but Phyllis already had that. He pulled the pen and pad from his pocket and quickly scribbled out a note. He needed to do this before his heart got the better of him.

Dear Phyllis,

Use these tickets to go on that trip with your family. With all my heart, I wish you all the love and happiness in the world.

Love always,

Ronan

Ronan held the tickets for a moment, his heart breaking a bit as he bent down to slide them under the door. She wouldn't find them until the morning—no doubt they wouldn't be returning downstairs tonight, but that was alright. They were making up for lost time.

He trudged back to his car, slumping into the seat. It was something he'd told grieving families many times. This broken heart was his own fault for not heeding his own advice.

You can lose time. You can lose people, but you never have to lose the love.

The End