There was no eloquent way to put it. Mendoza was tore up. Nervousness, mourning, bitterness, and severe uncertainty relentlessly flickered deep within him. And the little moments they shared, which were constantly rushing through his mind, only helped in that they served as paper being tossed onto an aggravated flame.

When he kissed her in that side room, he'd hoped to pull her closer. But something about they way she kissed him back was apologetic. It was as if she was doing exactly what he accused her of, and yet taking it a step further: pulling away and saying goodbye. However, he found some solace in the fact that Emily agreed to sorting them out before flying home. Then again, it had been a couple hours since he'd last seen her, or even communicated with her.

The BAU team left the Denver office ahead of his own team, and prior to their exit, he spoke with her briefly. He intended to find out what time their jet would take off, but in that conversation, she didn't disclose whether or not she was staying. There was inconclusiveness in her tone. But, if her energy during this entire visit was any indication, he could almost be hundred percent sure that she took the night flight home.

His lifted his eyes to check the clock… The plane departed half an hour ago.

Mendoza inhaled deeply. Suddenly, his mind went into overdrive, irrationally trading out his desires for a false sense of pragmatism. Sure there were loose ends, but he was just going to have to come to terms with the fact that maybe this couldn't work. He wouldn't force her to stay in this relationship. Of course…telling himself this, wouldn't change the fact that it would still hurt deeply if she didn't want to.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he tried to snap back to his current setting. For the past 20 minutes, he'd been intensely stirring at pot of Alfredo sauce. He did his best to conceal his frustration, as his daughter was in the kitchen helping him and he wanted to be focused. This was the last day of her weekend with him, and he'd hate for it to be colored by his palpable disappointment.

Of course, what he didn't know was that, while he stirred, Keely was keenly aware of the unusual silence radiating from the other side of the kitchen. She turned over her shoulder and sensed something was up. Her father's face was set deep in a frown, and so she mustered up the courage to question him about it.

"Dad, are you okay?" The teenager asked.

"Hmm?— Oh yeah, yeah." Andrew was clearly startled and not at all okay, but insisted on playing it off. He offered her a tight smile,"I'm doing fine. How's that salad coming along?"

"It's good," Keely said,"But I'm more concerned with how you're stirring that sauce like it's a chore you're being punished with."

Mendoza hung his head, a genuine smile replacing the forced one he plastered on his face just seconds ago. Sometimes he forgot how observant and perceptive Keely could be. She had a knack for calling things like they were, and had done so ever since she was little.

"You're too smart for you own good, kid." He shook his head.

Keely smirked, but followed it up with an accusing glare. Fluffing her ego wasn't as strong of a distraction technique as he might've thought,"What's up?" She insisted,"You always say I can talk to you, but don't forget you can talk to me, too."

Mendoza nodded. She was right. And he felt very strongly about maintaining this connection with his daughter. Having serious talks with her about things they were going through, whether it be individually or together, was an important way to do that. His only reservation was that he didn't want to heap the entire load he was carrying on top of her, or loop her into the drama. As a parent, that would seem irresponsible.

Nevertheless, he could find a way to honestly discuss the topic. Above all else, he prided himself on being a man of his word, of following through even when the going got uncomfortable. And it would be uncomfortable. Perhaps, not so much for his daughter, but for himself. To Keely, anything he said would only be news. But, for him, verbalizing the situation would make the reality real. And no matter how much he wanted to avoid it, he needed to rip the bandaid off.

Fully turning away from his task at the stove, Mendoza drew in a long breath,"Emily won't be coming by tonight."

"Oh… Oh, no." Keely's tone infused with sympathy and confusion, "Why not?"

"I'm actually not sure." Mendoza admitted, every word he spoke stabbing at his heart like tiny knives,"But I do think today was one of our last days together."

"As in…you're breaking up?" The dark haired girl asked for clarification.

"Something like that…"

He tried to concealed the unadulterated devastation in his voice, but Keely absorbed every emotion in the sound waves. Right then, she felt horribly for him. As their child, the divorce between her mom and her dad was initially hard, but she knew it was coming and she knew that they were both happier separately— her dad especially since he met Emily.

And although the young girl had never met his infamous Unit Chief girlfriend, she had come into contact with Just-Got-Off-the-Phone-With Dad, or Post-Baecation Dad, or After-the-Weekend-in-D.C.-With-Emily Dad. It was undeniable, he beamed in a different way after spending time with her. He spoke about her with such love and adoration.

All in all, the heaviness of his mood made complete sense. He just lost something wonderful. And while she couldn't yet imagine what it must be like to lose someone like that, she knew what it felt like to give up something she loved. So, in all sincerity, and offering the only kind of comfort she could think to give, Keely walked over to her father and hugged him.

"I'm sorry it didn't work out, Dad…"

In an instant, her words melted him. Placing his stirring spoon down on the counter, Mendoza reciprocated his daughter's embrace. Words failed him, but he merely squeezed her tight and placed a kiss of gratitude on the top of her head. Her response wasn't meant to be a solution, wasn't meant to fill in the gaps. But sometimes, moments like this were all that was needed to clear a storm away.

Suddenly, he felt her rapidly tapping on his back. Following this, she jerked from his arms, and pointed to the stove.

"Uhh— that's gonna scorch if you don't turn it down." Keely said, alarm in her voice.

Mendoza's eyes darted to the sauce. The bubbles in the pot were popping with fervor as the white substance tempted to pour over the edges. However, just as he was about to reach out and turn the heat down, the doorbell rang. His gazed locked with Keely's, and with a single glance, they both agreed that he should get the door while she performed an emergency rescue on the pasta sauce.

Exiting the kitchen, Andrew took his time. Subconsciously, he was doing everything in his power to delay his arrival at the door. He checked his appearance in a nearby mirror, he straightened a decorative bowl of potpourri— even as he was arriving at the main entrance to his home, he stopped just short to call out to Keely. There weren't many people that could be stopping by the house at this hour, but he didn't want to get his hopes up. So, he kept his attention away from the person at the door up until the very moment the hinge swung open.

Her dark brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, always contrast to her light complexion and, presently, a moss green top. When he saw her standing there, he felt a mixture of so many things. Confusion, shock, resentment — excitement? And he attempted to underplay them all. His greeting to her was deadpan. Immediately, he could hear in his voice how disingenuous his response was to everything he was feeling.

As she stood there, offering him a vague explanation as to why she just showed up at the door, Mendoza mulled over what to do. Just weeks ago, he wanted her to meet Keely. Months before, he wanted her to move with him, but now he only wanted to know where they stood. And for all he knew— until just moments ago— "where they stood" was eight states away, dissolving a relationship without a word spoken between them.

She was offering to have dinner together; a bottle of his favorite wine in hand, but he was hesitant to invite her in. Not to mention, he'd basically just explained to his daughter that their relationship was at its end. What purpose did it serve to introduce her, if that were really the case?

Mendoza continued to linger in the doorway. Everything about her was seeping with apology, seeking forgiveness. But, as he informed her that he already had company, she seemed to give up. Emily knew when not to grovel. His disposition was practically screaming "You're not welcome here", so there was no use pushing the pin in deeper. She turned away, scandalized for thinking she could have him back so quickly.

Her response set him to panic. Although he wasn't really sure how to proceed, he knew that this wasn't it. He could give her one last chance— he could give her a thousand. Andrew could never be so attached to his pride or his justified resentment to the point that he let her be the one that got away. Closing the door would be ignorant of how desperately he wanted her to stay.

Besides, when he offered to have her join them for dinner, the smile that broke across her face made his world stop spinning. She handed him the bottle of wine, and he made room for her to enter through the door. The moments following unfolded almost effortlessly.

After over a year of anticipation, Emily and Keely finally made each other's acquaintance. The curly haired girl was surprised and immensely pleased to see that his girlfriend proved her dad wrong. Ever the outspoken, she was ready to out all the gushy things he said about her. Not just to have a little fun at his expense, but because Emily really was nothing short of amazing. She'd seen pictures and was meant to meet her on multiple occasions, but her presence had Keely sold. He was right and she should repeat it.

As they sat down at the table, and Emily prodded his daughter for more information on the praises he'd sang of her, it felt like a weight had been lifted. For one, after months of missed correspondence, he was so glad the two most important individuals in his life could get to know each other. And although Keely repeating the accolades made his ears hot with embarrassment, it was also nice to be reminded of how he felt about Emily, even if he was still a little unsure about where they would go from here.

Dinner soon came to a close, and while the couple migrated to the living room to sit on the couch, Keely stepped away to finish up some homework for the next day of school. Emily rested her head on Mendoza's shoulder, and placed her hand over his heart. In turn, he held her hand in his, and his thumb mindlessly grazed over her knuckles. For a good few minutes, the two didn't speak anything at all. They merely held one another in this meaningful silence.

"Thank you for having me for dinner." She said all of sudden.

He replied softly,"You're welcome. I'm glad you decided to come."

"I stood in my hotel room procrastinating for at least an hour." The brunette confessed.

"Hmm." Mendoza turned her words in his mind,"Is that why you didn't text me back?"

"Partly…" She said with a sigh.

After another few lingering seconds of resting against him, Emily sat up and pivoted so she could get a better view of his face. Then, she tucked her hair behind her ear, and looked at him with a kind of seriousness that made his heart rate shoot up. Now that the pleasantries were over, Mendoza was sure they'd transitioned into addressing their contention, of which there was a point of no return.

"I thought a lot about what you said earlier." Emily began, referencing their moment in the Denver office utility closet,"I do know what I want. In fact… I've known for a while. But I haven't said because I know that what I want isn't fair to ask of you."

"Does this have something to do with what you told the unsub?" He wondered.

Emily bit her lip and nodded,"Andrew, I am happy where I'm at. But I've also been happy with you." As she spoke, her gaze detached from his. She eyed her lap, where her fingers were idiosyncratically playing with his fingers rather than picking at her own, "When you were in D.C., it felt like— a fairytale. Everything was kind of perfect…"

"But?" He raised.

Emily exhaled, a conflicted frown settling on her face,"I think we weren't being honest with ourselves when we insisted that you moving here wouldn't change a thing… it's changed so much."

Mendoza sighed. There wasn't a single word in her phrasing that he could dispute. While work and family had all fallen into place for him, his move to Denver was blowing things out of the water for the two of them. Of course, he tried— and tried hard to make it back to D.C. whenever he could. Plus, at the beginning, they were really good about keeping in touch via phone calls and FaceTimes. But it didn't take long for them to discover that long-distance wasn't the same as in-person…

"I also haven't been transparent about how much this has affected me." Emily continued, "Although I still agreed that it was important for you to be here with Keely, there were times I felt jealous. Stupidly and irrationally so. When you finally made the move, it was like you were choosing all of this over me…"

"That's why you didn't call me back for a couple weeks?" He asked cautiously.

Emily nodded slowly in response, her jaw clenching as he reminded her of her elusive behavior,"Of course, seeing you often enough helped me realize there was no competition. I thought 'He has so much love to give, and it's only fair that it be equally distributed.' After that, it was easy to fall into our new routine."

Mendoza breathed in, he was glad he was finally getting some clarity, but the puzzle still wasn't completely together, "So what happened? We were doing great up until a few weeks ago."

All in frustration with herself, Emily shrugged then shook her head. There was so little left to hide, but ever engaged in a battle with vulnerability, she pulled her hand away from his. But, as was anticipated, he wouldn't let her break one connection without establishing another. Gently, she felt his fingers under her chin, tipping her face upwards, her eyes finally lifting to reveal they were filled with regret and unshed tears.

"I started to want my fairytale back…" She admitted, the faintest hint of water in her voice,"And every time we spoke it didn't feel like you wanted the same thing. So, I stopped fitting you into my schedule, stopped making plans because I figured it'd be easier to just let you go." As hard as she was fighting to keep the evidence of her most intense emotions from spilling over, a couple droplets escaped down her cheeks. Then, she grit her teeth to speak one last self-indemnifying thing,"Andrew, I couldn't tell you what I wanted because… what I wanted was for you to leave everything and come home to me."

Mendoza was floored. As his girlfriend explained how her recent actions had been nothing but self-serving, everything she spoke simultaneously made him realize how selfish he had been. He'd been so fixed on moving to be with his daughter, so insistent that he would not miss out on anymore milestones in her life, that he made the move singularly and linearly.

Moreover, he had been beyond excited about inviting Emily to be apart of this life that he couldn't see how much it was actually pushing her away. He was blindly asking her to make commitments that didn't align with the plans she had for herself. Even when he knew she wanted to stay with her unit, he operated on his deepest desires, not stopping himself from occasionally and wistfully mentioning the idea of her moving to be with him.

Just as he was coming to terms with his own fault in the matter, Emily still felt at a loss. It was never a matter of her not wanting the same thing— she wanted them just as much as he did, but in a wholly different way. And it was the guilt of asking him to make this sacrifice that was so unconscionable to her. Because at no point would there ever be an opportunity to express such a selfish desire. Her ask would always be in direct opposition to everything he wanted.

So, she quietly buried the attitude. In pursuit of their own wants, they became inflexible. Two worlds apart, letting overly expressed and under expressed desires drive a wedge between them.

Mendoza inhaled a shuddered breath,"I know that earlier, in full chivalry, I said I would do anything what you want, but Emily…"

"I don't expect you to do that." She responded adamantly before he could finish his thought,"Andrew, I know you can't do that. But after tonight, I'll go home, that feeling might resurface, and I just can't have it on my heart anymore. That's too huge a compromise to always think about asking you to fulfill."

He nodded slowly, "Thank you…"

"But… what I'm getting at is, I don't see how we can both have what we want… and stay together right now."

Immediately, he sat up a little straighter. Worry and fear colored his voice, "Woah, hey… what are you saying?"

She reached and touched his face, her hand placed just so her thumb could brush and stroke his cheek,"I'm saying you deserve someone who won't ask you to compromise."

"Emily," He said as he grasped at her hand against his face and brought it back to the cradle of his own palms. His heart was racing almost like his fight or flight response had kicked in— and right now, it was time to fight. Not against, but for. Because it seemed very plainly, that if he did nothing or said nothing to redirect this conversation, she was going to decide that this would be their ending.

"I'm sorry." He apologized.

She opened her mouth and spoke,"You don't have to—"

"No, I absolutely do." He was swift to cut her off, "I think I've made this harder on you than it ever should have been. And I'm sorry. You're right. Things have changed, and going along as if they haven't, is dangerous. But breaking up? We can find a solution that's not that." Mendoza squeezed her hand a little tighter, in a desperate effort to both fortify himself and persuade her,"You and I both, we need to be in different places for now, but that doesn't mean we give up. Maybe we have to compromise a little bit more that we used to— Okay, a lot more, but that's how relationships work, Emily. I will always compromise for you where and when I can because I love you. And I can only keep doing it because I know you love me too…"

The man paused, leaving air for a reply. However, where he expected a verbal utterance, an objection to his speech or an agreement, she simply moved forward and closed the space between their lips.

This time their kiss was anything from apologetic. It was the 'I love you' he wanted to hear; it was urgent and desperate and passionate. She wasn't pulling away at all, but drawing him in closer and closer. Andrew matched her intensity. Mouths opening against each other, as they reentered their romantic territory and explored until they were breathless. Before they lost control, the two surrendered. Their faces mere centimeters apart, and they gazed into each others eyes with such affection that bridged the disconnect and achieved the balance they'd been futilely searching for the past couple of days.

"You're not allowed to break up with me, Emily Prentiss," Mendoza commanded in a low whisper,"Not without trying to salvage this first."

Emily hiccuped a laugh at his statement, then said,"And how do you propose we do that Andrew Mendoza?"

"We're going to stay on the same page." He suggested with confidence, "Even when the truth is ugly. And we're going to work at this everyday, until everything falls into place just how we want it."

With a small smile, she nodded in agreement, and a wave of relief washed over him as she kissed him again, softly on the mouth. "I love you." She said just below her breath.

"I love you, too." He said.

Out of the blue, an abrupt applause from a single pair of hands sounded from behind them. Their focus shifted to the source of the clapping, and in an instant, the spotted Keely approaching. She dropped her hands to her side, and set her weight on her hip.

"Well, that was hot." The teenager mused, as she eyed the couple entangled on her dad's couch.

"Keely…" Mendoza drawled at his daughter, who'd probably been listening in for who knew how long.

"Dad…" she mimicked his tone.

Caught in such an awkward moment, there was nothing that all three of them could do, but shake their heads and laugh. Emily buried her face in her hands out of embarrassment, then leaned against Mendoza's chest. In turn, he wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her into a comforting hug. After uttering a quick apology for eavesdropping, Keely placed a kiss on her dad's cheek, then scurried back to her room. It was official. The worst was over, and just as quickly as it had left, the night returned to its light-hearted mood.