~Monique~

            "There are no trains leaving anywhere? For the whole weekend? What about private airplanes, look is there anyone who can get me out of New York in the next day? I'll take anything…a horse…camels? I understand that but it's an emergency and…oh…well, thanks anyway. Yeah, I'll keep in touch. Bye."

            I watched inconspicuously from the kitchen, with my concentration firmly on the salad bowl in front of me, as Shelby, dejectedly, placed the phone back on its black cradle. I could tell from the conversation and the look on her face that her attempts to get out of New York were futile. Again. Wearily, she ran a hand through her blonde hair, sighed deeply and then glanced up at me as if she knew I was listening the whole time.

            "Not even a hotel," She threw her eyes up towards the ceiling. "Someone up there must really hate me."

            I didn't know what to say in response so I smiled weakly and tried to be as supportive as I could, even though it was my fault she was in the situation in the first place. Shelby walked slowly back to the guestroom and quietly shut the door, I knew what she would be doing; I knew what I always did when I got that look on my face. I could picture her already coming out of the room in an hour or so, red eyes, moist face, trying to put on a smile for the world, I had done it a thousand times, the only difference was, I was excellent at it. I threw down a piece of lettuce in the bowl, checked the roast in the oven one last time and untied the ugly flowered apron from around my waist.

            The hallway stretched out in front of me and I walked past Shelby's room, hearing the telltale muffled sobs and then past Scott's room where he and Heather were arguing about something else. This time is sounded like the band for the reception, five minutes ago it had been the type of cake, ten minutes before that it had been whether the men would wear vests or not. I opened the door to my room, shut it behind me and threw my tired body over my bed. I closed my eyes and then opened them to stare blankly up at the ceiling. I didn't even notice the tear that had dripped out of my eye until I tasted the saltiness of it on my lips. Hurriedly I attempted to wipe them away but they still came in a torrent of shut up emotion.

            Instinctively I began to sing gently into the darkness.

            "I can't make you love me if you don't. I can't make your heart feel something it won't. Here in the dark…in these final hours, I will lay down my heart…"

            I didn't finish the song because the phone rang, thankfully ripping me from the memories, releasing me from the prison of what was.

            "Hello…" I said softly into the receiver.

            "Mo…is that you?"

            I jerked up in the bed, my heart pounding and I immediately felt a headache growing behind my eyes.

            "Ethan?"

            "Yes, it's me." The deep husky voice floated into my ear, wrapped around my heart and threatened to choke the life out of me. "It's been a while, huh."

            "Y-yeah, a long while…why are you calling then?"

            "I needed to hear your voice again. I miss you." I closed my eyes and tried to hold in the questions that were coursing through my mind.

            "Ethan, I told you, I can't do this…not now, not ever."

            "Please, Mo…I'm in New York and…"

            Anger shot up in me, bringing heat into my body.

            "What the hell are you doing here?" My gritted teeth made the words sound like sand paper.

            "If you think it's just to see you, you're wrong. When you said you wanted space I respected that, I'm here for a surgical convention so I thought I'd call, catch up, see how you were doing."

            "More like ease your conscious."

            "I made mistakes, Monique, I've done everything, what more do you want from me!"

            "I want you to leave me alone and I never want to see you again!"

            I wanted to slam the phone down but my hand wouldn't let me.

            "You can run from me, Monique, but you can't run from love. I'm staying at the Ritz Carlton, room 410; you know where to find me… I-I love you, Mo…Bye."

            A quiet click followed and then the repetitive sound of the dial tone. Angrily, I picked up the phone, ripped the cord out of the jack and threw it against the wall with all the force I had in me. Then I began sobbing uncontrollably with my head buried in my hands. I wanted to throw something else but I refrained and consoled myself with selfish tears. Ethan Ryan never said what he didn't mean and when he said he loved me I knew he meant it. The words tore me up inside and I fought for control, when it finally came I sat dumbly on the bed staring at the wall where the phone had hit leaving a faint dent and black smear. Suddenly as if hit by a force I couldn't control, I went to my dresser and began digging through a random assortment of things until I came to a box. It wasn't big but it was well-made and held shut with a single gold clasp.

            I ran a hand over it and then holding my breath, I opened it. The first thing that hit me was the smell, expensive Armani cologne, fabric sheets and peppermint, it was beautiful and I breathed it in deeply, letting it fill every part of my heart that had been empty for so long. I reached inside and picked up a picture, it was a little worn but in good shape.

He was smiling, he always smiled, that's what drew people to him, the way he was always laughing and joking around. Even his blue eyes smiled and when he turned them on you, and you were staring into them he made you feel like you were the only person in the room and the most important thing to him at that moment. I remembered staring for hours into those eyes, getting lost in them, letting them take me to places I had never been before. They were the first thing's I fell in love with, his eyes. Then his lips, perfect and sweet, a familiar ache grew inside me when I recalled the last time I had kissed him and I lone tear found it's way down my cheek. His muscled body leaned casually against the shiny new red Porsche and he fit so naturally into the world. His expression was mischievous, loving and happy like all was right and he had no cares but it was also intelligent, inquisitive and always searching. He was obviously handsome, gorgeous really, whenever we went out together he would get his fair share of attention but he never even glanced at the other women, some of who were ten times better looking than me.

Blue eyes, dark hair that always wanted to curl, strong features, Armani cologne, peppermint, John Grisham, fabric softener, Indie films, long walks on the beach, dancing under the stars, all made up Ethan and why I loved him. Even his quirks, like how the toilet paper always had to roll from the top and how the bed sheets had to face a certain way but then he'd hold me in his arms and whisper softly into my ears a love poem or surprise me with a ride into the country for a picnic and none of that would matter because, Ethan loved me, what else mattered.

I placed the picture down back into the box and then picked up a necklace. On the chain was the angel figurine that Scott had given me for my sixteenth birthday. Next to the chain was a bracelet with an identical angel but this one had an engraving on it that said "MG, my angel." Ethan had given it to me for our one-year anniversary. I put that back in the box but I hung the necklace around my neck. What brought the most pain to my heart was the small velvet box that held a vintage rare diamond ring worth over a hundred thousand dollars, my engagement ring. I took one last look at it and put it away. Then I shut it tightly and slipped it back into the drawer, underneath all of the clothes until I could get the courage to look at it again, it could be tomorrow but then again it could be never.

~Shelby~

            I tried in vain to get some sleep and the longer I tried to keep my eyes closed the harder it was to sleep. The flashes of memories kept overtaking me in a whirlwind of color and emotion that no amount of wishing stopped. I tossed and turned between the bed sheets like I was stricken with some horrible disease but there was no release from this hell of memories.

___________________________________

            "Pregnant?" She said dubiously and instinctively glanced down at her belly that was as firm and flat as it had been two seconds before but now it seemed a little bloated. The doctor smiled happily and she wanted to clog him in the face, if only he understood what he was saying.

            "Yes, two months exactly. Congratulations, Mrs. Merrick." Dr. Johnson said in his deep physician like voice. Her heart began to quicken and the simple task of breathing seemed harder to do each and every second. Pregnant. She was two months pregnant, with a baby. She was going to have a real live baby. As he carefully watched her reaction, Dr. Johnson's face slowly changed from pleased to concern.

            "Shelby, are you alright?"

            She swallowed hard, trying to force the lump in her throat back to wherever it came from.

            "I- I…uh…I'm fine. Thank you for everything, Dr. Johnson."

            "Your welcome." His eyebrows were still furrowed in tactfully unasked questions but he allowed her to go with out a word. She quickly gathered up her purse and walked out of the doctor's office, shocked, stunned and thoroughly scared.

___________________________________

            I sat up swiftly in bed, breathing hard and attempting to calm the pounding of my heart. It always happened like this, first a rouge memory and then the panic, finally the quiet sobbing and I always suffered alone. That was the hardest, never having someone to talk about it but I also knew that that was out of the question so I continued to suffer alone. Lying in bed wasn't going to help any and a long time ago I had decided that the only way to beat them was to divert my mind so instead I clicked on the television to a random channel and began to be pulled into a world where I didn't have to think.