Nearly two weeks later, Mary and Wilson are trying to talk to five-year-old Billy, and tell them that they're engaged. Mary can tell that Wilson is up to something, but can't exactly tell what. Billy is sitting in Mary's lap, with Wilson at her side. He is holding the two of them tightly to him. Wilson gets up and goes over to a bookcase. He takes out a big light blue scrapbook, and brings it over to Mary and Billy.

"Billy, I have something to show you. Do you remember your other Grandma and Grandpa?" Billy nods. "They gave me this on your second birthday, and now I'm sharing it with you." He opens the book and starts to flip through the pages. "See Billy, that's your Mommy." He says as he points to one of the pictures.

After they finish the book, Mary is practically in tears. Wilson begins to move on to the real reason this whole thing started.

"Now Billy, Mary loves you very much. She already treats you like she's your Mommy, and after we get married Mary's going to take care of you, just like a mommy would. Is that OK with you?"

"Yeah!" he says enthusiastically. "But Daddy, why did my real Mommy have to go away?"

"When you were born, she got very sick, but she chose for you to be healthy."

"Is she in heaven?"

"Yes Billy."

"Ok." Billy says, his curiosity satisfied. He slides off of Mary's lap, and walks into his bedroom to play with his toy cars.

"Wow. I, uh, wow. What do I say to that?" Mary asks, once Billy is out of the room.

"You don't have to say anything. It was important for you to be here when I told Billy that we were engaged. And I know that you were just as curious about her as Billy was, so I figured I'd let you see the book, too."

"Are you OK? Do you want to talk or something?"

"I'm fine, and I don't want to talk. I want to take a nap with you; it'll make me feel better."

"What about Billy?"

"He'll be fine. I'm not really that tired anyways."

They walk into Wilson's bedroom, and lie down on his bed.

"So, is everything in order now?"

"It should be."

"Great. I can't wait to be married to you. I want to be able to lay here with you and have nothing be wrong with it."

"I agree. It does kind of feel sinful lying with you on my bed."

"I'm the minister's kid here, only I can throw around words like 'sinful'." Wilson laughs. "Oh, that reminds me." Mary says as she stands up and takes a piece of paper out of her pocket. "Our engagement was announced in the church bulletin."

"That's great. I'm glad your parents finally came around."

"Me too. They can be so stubborn sometimes. But I guess when push comes to shove, they're pretty OK."

Wilson smiles as Mary lies back down beside him. "Well, I'm glad that this part of everything is over. I can't believe I have to start school in 3 days."

"It won't be so bad."

"I know. It'll cut into the time we get to spend together though."

"That's OK. This is something you have to do."

"No, this is something everyone tells me I have to do. I don't want to."

"It'll be fine and then it won't seem like your being forced." Wilson kisses Mary tenderly. "You worry too much. Relax."

"That helps."

Wilson kisses her again, as they both lie there filled with contentment.

Three days later, after Mary's first day of college, her parents and Wilson are in the kitchen talking with her.

"So, where do you plan on living once you guys are married?" Mrs. Camden says.

"I hadn't thought of that. It seems so long form now. We haven't discussed it yet, somewhere close I hope." says Mary.

The phone rings, and Mary gets up to answer it. She picks up the portable phone and steps into the hallway to be able to hear the person on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Mary?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"Are you and Wilson engaged?"

"Robbie?" Mary questions, although she is sure it is him.

"Yeah, its me. Are you and Wilson engaged?" he asks again, with a harsh tone in his voice.

"Yes, we are." she answers, getting a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her intuition tells her to hang up the phone, but she does not listen.

"I loved you Mary. You made the wrong choice, and now you are going to have to live with its consequences the rest of your life."

"What are you talking about?"

"Goodbye Mary, forever."

Mary hears Robbie drop the phone on the ground, and there is silence for a few seconds. Next, she hears a faint click and a loud gunshot followed by a dull thud. Her first instinct is to call out to him, but she knows that is futile. Robbie is dead. He killed himself over her – over not being able to have her. Instead, she clicks the receiver and dials the police station, asking for Sgt. Michaels.

"I-I-I" Mary stammers, not able to put a sentence together.

"Calm down Mary. What's the problem?"

"Robbie, R-Robbie's dead."

"Where are you?"

"At my house."

"Is Robbie there?"

"No."

"Then where is he?"

"I-I don't know."

Sergeant Michaels is confused. "Then how do you know he's dead?"

"Because he called me. He said I made the wrong choice, and then he said goodbye forever. I heard a gunshot."

"You don't know he's dead."

"Yes I do. I can feel it. You have to do something."

"There isn't much I can do. Do you think he could have been at his house?"

"Probably. I'm not sure."

"Do you know where he lives?"

"314 Maple Street."

"Ok. I'll go over there and check it out. If I see anything or find anything out, I'll let you know."

"Ok. T-thank you. Could you let me know if you don't find anything, too?"

"Sure. But Mary…"

"Yes?"

"Are you ok? If you want to talk or something I'm here- your dad's good at that stuff too."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Do you want me to tell your parents what happened?"

"No, I'll do it. I'll be OK, Wilson's here."

"All right. You take care of yourself." He tells her, and hangs up the phone. 

Mary doesn't know what to do. Her stomach felt hollow and her mind was racing. She had to sit down before she passed out. She walks into the living room, closing the sliding doors behind her, and sits down on the couch. She quietly begins to sob, but really doesn't know what for. Most of her hated Robbie, but she had once loved him. That was all over though - she's marrying Wilson now. But mainly she was crying because she was mad at herself. She's mad that she's happy Robbie's dead, happy he won't bother her anymore. She becomes extremely confused, saddened, and upset. She looks over at the other couch, and remembers when Robbie came over, and sat on that couch, just over six months ago.

She runs through their conversation one more time, looking for something she might have missed.

How did he know we are getting married? The church bulletin?

I feel awful. This is my fault. I drove him to this. He even said I drove him to this.
Should I have stayed with him? No, he raped me.
Did he really shoot himself? Maybe he didn't. What am I thinking? I know he did.

Mary's thoughts grow unclear and she looses her focus. She lies down on the couch. She starts to weep, over what she is not sure, and tries to keep her volume in check.

Fifteen minutes later, she can here shuffling out in the foyer. Wilson slides the door open, and is surprised to see Mary inside.

"Is this where you've been all this time?" He walks closer to her and sees the tears on her face. "Are you crying?" he asks, and sits down on the couch next to her. "What's wrong?"

"R-R-R-Robbie's…Robbie's…"

"Yeah, what about him?"

"He's dead. He killed himself because I love you."

"Huh?" Wilson asks, completely confused over Mary's previous statement.

Mary breathes heavily and tires to think of something that will actually make sense. "Robbie's dead." She says again.

"He is? How do you know?"

"Because he called me."

"That's who was on the phone? Wait- if he's dead, how did he call you? And what do you mean dead?"

"Robbie called and asked me if we were engaged. I said we were. Then he said that he loved me, and 'goodbye forever'. I heard a gunshot and him fall to the floor." Mary's tears flow heavily and she cannot stop them. "He's dead, he's dead. He killed himself because of me- because of you and me. I'm guilty of killing him."

Wilson doesn't really know what to say to her. "Um…you didn't do anything wrong. He did. He ended your relationship and he killed himself, not you."

"I know, but I still feel like it's my fault."

"But its not. It isn't."

"Yes it is! I drove him to this. Maybe I should have-"

"Should have what? There's nothing you could have done."

Mary starts to sob, knowing that Wilson is right. They hear a knock at the front door, and Mary gets silent. They can hear Eric answer the door.

"Oh, hello Sergeant Michaels."

Mary gets up and bolts out of the room. She runs into to the front door, almost knocking her father over.

"What happened?" she asks.

"Well Mary, you were right. We investigated Robbie's house and found him. I'm sorry."

Mary face goes pale, and her eyes start to tear up. She feels a hand on her back, and turns around to see Wilson. He wraps his arms around her as her tears fall silently from her eyes.

"What happened to Robbie?"

"Oh, Eric, you don't know?"

"Robbie committed suicide because of me being engaged to Wilson." Mary blurts out, unable to look her father in the eye.

"How did you know?" Reverend Camden asks her.

"Because he called before. He did it while we were still on the phone; he shot himself."

"Did he say he did it because you and Wilson were engaged?"

"Not in so many words…"

"What exactly did he say?"

"He asked me if we were engaged, and I said we were. Then he said I had made the wrong choice, and that I would have to live with the consequences. He said goodbye to me and shot himself."

"Oh Mary, are you OK?"

"No, but Wilson's here. He'll help me."

"Ok. I'm here for you if you want to talk." He tells his daughter.

"I know." Mary takes Wilson's hand and walks back into the living room, reclosing the doors behind her. Wilson sits down on the couch, and Mary lies down on her back, with her head lying in Wilson's lap. She tries to stare up into his eyes, but can't bear to look at them. There is too much pain inside of her.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" he asks her.

"No, this is helping."

"I feel like I should be doing something though. I know what its like to loose someone."

"Yeah, but its different. I hated him, but I loved him once."

"Loved?"

"Well not really loved, liked. I feel bad for being so mean to him, and for yelling at him. If I hadn't, or if I talked to him more and tried to explain things, maybe he'd still be alive."

"Its not your fault. I already told you that."

"But maybe if I was the one who told him we were engaged."

"There is no way you could have known how he was going to take this. But the one thing that doesn't make sense to me is why he would rape you if he loved you so much."

"That doesn't make sense to me either. But he always was a weird person…" Mary's eyes start to get teary again.

"I'm sorry." Wilson says. "Come here, sit up." Mary does as he says. Wilson puts one arm around her and pulls her close to him. "I love you Mary."

"I love you too."

"You sure there isn't anything I can do?"

"This is enough, really. You can't help me with this, not any more than you are doing right now."

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind."

"No. Tell me. If I can't help, I at least want to know what your thinking."

"Fine. I'm thinking that I can't run from this, and I have to deal with it now."

"Good. That's good. But-"

"Ok, I can't lie to you." Mary interrupts. "I'm very thankful that you're trying to help me, and I need you, but this feels weird. I did use to date him. It just doesn't feel right talking about him with you. I'm not comfortable with it."

"Oh, OK." Wilson says, sounding hurt. "I understand."

"Really? Do you?"

"Yes. It's fine."

Twelve minutes after he says that, the doors open once more, and Mary's younger siblings enter.

"Uh, we heard what happened." Lucy starts.

"I'm happy he's gone. He was such a jerk." Ruthie says.

"Ruthie!"

"I agree with her Lucy." Simon says. "He never treated you the way you deserve to be treated. Wilson is so much better than that loser."

Mary smiles, and shakes her head. She wishes it were as clear-cut as they were making it out to be.

"I'm sorry. We probably aren't helping. Well go now." Lucy says, as she puts her hands behind Simon and Ruthie's backs, pushing them to the door. All three of them walk out.

Mary thinks for a second, and comes up with an idea. She leans over and pecks Wilson on the cheek. "I'll be right back." She says to him as she stands up. He looks at her concerned. "Don't worry," she says, "it's just a family thing." Wilson nods and Mary leaves.

She can her the trio in the upstairs hallway. She runs up the stairs and stands next to her brother and sisters.

"Thank you. I understand what you meant, and means a lot to me that you guys care about me. Thanks." She wraps her arms around all of them in a group hug. We haven't had one of these in a while, since the twins were born.

Simon and Ruthie walk to their rooms, but Lucy lingers. "I hope I didn't disturb anything between you and Wilson. I just thought you might want to know that we all know."

"You didn't disturb anything." There is an awkward silence. "Luce, can you help me with something?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"Well, it's about Robbie."

"You want me to help you?"

"Yes, I need you."

"Wow. OK. But why me? Why not Wilson?"

"Its weird talking to him about Robbie. So will you help me when he leaves, please?"

"Yeah."

"OK, as soon as he leaves we'll talk."

"That's fine."

Mary sits back downstairs with Wilson for about 45 minutes in silence. Wilson can tell that she is understandably upset just by sitting next to her, but he could sense she was getting better.

"I'm going to go. You OK?"

"Yeah, I'll be all right."

"Do you need me for anything?"

"No, not really."

"OK. I'm going to run some errands before I go home, so if you want me you can beep me."

" 'Kay."

They kiss good-bye passionately for three minutes.

"I'll call you later. Bye."

"Bye." She says back, and sees him to the door.

Once he leaves, Mary walks upstairs to the attic bedroom. She goes into the bathroom and splashes some cold water on her face, hoping that that would help her. She then walks into her bedroom, and weeps into her pillow. She doesn't even notice that Lucy is in the room with her.

"Oh my god, what's wrong?"

"Honestly, I don't know." She says between sobs. "Help me Luce?"

"I don't know if I can. You sure you don't want to talk to dad, or mom? I'll go get Mom."

"No, they won't understand."

"And I will?"

"Maybe, I don't know. But I need someone to talk to, and I want to talk to you. Please Luce?" Mary pleads with her sister.

"Okay." Lucy says as she sits down on the bed beside Mary. "What do you want to talk about? Robbie?"

"Yeah. I feel really bad. I miss him. Is that wrong?"

"No. You've gone through a lot with him, and you've got a ton of emotions tied to him."

"I feel really bad though, like I'm cheating on Wilson."

"You're not cheating on Wilson. You love Wilson, right?"

"Yes. But now I feel stuff for Robbie, things I shouldn't be feeling."

"Like what?"

"I don't know exactly."

"Then how do you know you have some type of feelings for him?"

"I just do."

"Did this start before or after you talk with him this morning?"

"After."

"But Mary, come on. Do I have to remind you of everything he's done to you- how much he's hurt you?"

"No." She sniffles.

"Then the way I see it, you love Wilson and only Wilson. For the past 6 months, even though you have been the saddest you have ever been, you have also been the happiest. You can't deny that. I can tell by the way you two look at each other, like no one else in the world exists, that you both really are in love. Robbie did a stupid thing, but I think he succeeded in what he was trying to do. He was trying to make you, or even everyone, feel sorry for him. He tried to put all of the guilt on you, so that he could have control over your thoughts. He is controlling you. He has made you doubt your love for Wilson. Robbie is a bad person, plain and simple. Whatever you felt for him in the past means nothing now, because even if you loved him, you didn't love the real Robbie Palmer. The real Robbie Palmer hurt you to the core, and I know you could never love anyone who would do that to you. Don't let this stupid incident ruin the one good thing you still have left in your life. Talk to Wilson; try to explain this to him. He likes it when you talk to him. Or don't talk to him about this, but at least keep talking to him. Don't push him away because of this; use him. You need him, and he's looking for you to turn to him. Forget about Robbie and let Wilson help you through this. He loves you, not Robbie. Wilson."

Tears stream down Mary's face as her little sister wraps her arms around her.

"You're going to be fine. What's everyone always tell you? You're strong. And you've had to deal with worse stuff than this. This'll be easy for you to overcome."

"Thanks Luce. But it still feels weird, I feel empty inside.  That gunshot keeps echoing through my mind."

"What gunshot?"

"Robbie shot himself."

"And you heard it?"

"Yeah. One second he was talking to me, and the next boom! - literally."

"Oh my god. I had no idea. That's awful. See, he is rotten. He couldn't of just left you a note, he had to make you listen to him die a painful death."

"Not helping."

"Sorry. But that does prove my point. I hate him. And what makes me sick is that there are hundreds of thousands of other guys just like Robbie still out there."

"Yeah."

"So did I help you?"

"You helped a lot actually. Thanks."

"No problem. I thought about what I was going to say to you for a half hour. And I'm not going anywhere, so if you want to talk some more…"

"I know where to find you." Mary wipes her tears away form her eyes. "I'm going to call Wilson."

"Good. I'll leave then. Good luck."

Mary picks up the phone, and pages Wilson. Within 3 minutes, the phone rings.

"I got your page. Are you all right? What's wrong?"

"I want to talk. So if you could stop by tonight, for dinner maybe-"

"Sure. Anything else?"

"No, that's it."

"OK. You hang in there. I love you Mary."

"I love you, too, Wilson."