Inspired by "The Prayer" from Celine Dion & Andrea Bocelli
Thanks to Melanie for the beta, as always huggles

Mac was hard on herself. She told everybody that she would have her own Christmas celebration with the kids. She didn't want anybody else around. She needed this time alone to sort things out.

On the 26th she would be cooking for her former parents-in-law, which brought an odd feeling up. Her former parents-in-law, people she adored and loved; people … her family, former family.

It was May, the middle of May, and the sun shone romantically onto the large balcony Harm's parents had. They had been invited to celebrate Trish's birthday and Harm hadn't told them yet that they were a couple. Mac was standing at their car and Harm was getting their bags out.

The weekend was amazing, on Saturday they were swimming in the sea and having fun at the beach like friends, the night was the night of lovers.

She had been reading a crime novel, something by Kathy Reichs. She liked it, really, and it was thrilling. Suddenly she felt wet lips on her ankle, trailing upwards. Her legs spread without command and welcomed his hand in between. His hands spread her lips and dipped into her wetness. She welcomed him with a loud moan as he found her g-spot without a long search. Mac had longed for his fingers the whole day. They had felt watched and since he hadn't told his parents …

That brought her back to reality and the knowledge that all that was gone. Sometimes those days she asked herself if she had reacted too harshly, too quickly, that she hadn't given him time to comment. But did she really ever ask for anything from him other than love? She had never wanted anything else, only to be loved.
If he hadn't wanted a family, she would somehow have survived without kids because she wanted him to be happy, happy with her.
She only had asked for one thing – that it would be only her and nobody else. Was that too much to ask for?

She knew that she wasn't the woman he had married. She had given birth, she had gained weight during the pregnancies but that was just the normal way of life. He loved her pregnant body.

And now? Mac was sitting in bed, alone. It had started to snow a couple of hours ago and would probably snow through to New Years Eve – another celebration she would prefer to cancel this year.
There were many pictures running through her head, but the one that he was celebrating with another woman was the most painful - probably a tall blond bimbo with a small waist, big boobs and no brain – his classical combination. Oh, a person you do not need to make a commitment to, not again. He wouldn't do the same "mistake" again.

He wouldn't. Never again.
But nobody had ever asked what she was feeling, how she was going to work herself over Christmas. Nobody had ever asked her about the bottles of wine in the cellar which Harm had bought over the years of marriage. There was not one single person who had taken care of her. Maybe it had been because she had tried to block them out?
She didn't know today.
Sitting along on "their" bed didn't help at all.
Slowly she got up and got her robe, walked towards the kids' room and watched them sleep. So cute.
Tears streamed down her cheeks; her hair was a mess, her nails bitten down already. Nobody seemed to have noticed it.
She had resisted so long but tonight was just too much, it was the night before Christmas, and she had already decorated the tree, wrapped the presents and prepared everything for the morning, for her children. But now she needed help, and there was simply nobody that could help her.
Her best friend had gotten divorced from her, her best friend had cheated on her, betrayed her, left her – forever. There was nobody anymore.
As nice as Harriet was, she was a rumor pot; not the person she needed now.

It was the 2nd bottle she had opened in just over an hour. The pain had already started to ease, slowly but steady. Many things went blank and unclearly. Many things just didn't seem to be that important anymore.
The wine was good, not vodka, but better than nothing. Vodka would gone faster, wouldn't take so long to be happy again.

Harm drinking wine, a picture in her mind which was rare. Harm seldom drank alcohol in front of her, only when friends were over.
"Kiss me," he begged her, but she knew that she would taste Cognac on his tongue. So she started to kiss his chest down slowly, unbuttoning his jeans while her tongue twirled in his belly button. A soft moan escaped his lips.
"I want you to kiss me," he said again and pulled her up, pushed her against the floor wall between the bedroom and the guest room. And she kissed him. His tongue tasted like expensive Cognac, never something cheap. She kissed him, but in a very strange way she found it disgusting. She didn't like the taste in her mouth.
Within seconds Harm had her robe unbound and pushed it off her shoulders, it was a puddle at her feet. She had longed for his warm hands all day long; since she was on maternity leave she was missing him all day.
"Harm we cannot do it here, let's get inside …" She wasn't even able to finish the sentence when she already felt the floor under her, her knees on the wooden floor.
"Harm … please … I cannot …," she tried to tell him but he was already between her thighs – touching, licking and sucking her. Mac horny, yes! It had been the "miracle" of her 2nd and 3rd trimester.
"Mac I need you …," Harm moaned when he positioned himself behind her and slowly eased himself into her, slowly and carefully.
Even drunk he wasn't forcing himself into her, she noted silently. He was her husband, he had a right to make love to her and he had always been the one who liked experiments much more than she did.
"God," she moaned as the tip of his penis touched her cervix and his left hand was gliding softly over her big, pregnant belly.
Suddenly she felt his hands on her breasts, pushing her backwards and she found herself, back against chest, sitting in his lap. It was his way to show her that she was in control.
"I love you Mac," he said with a smile against her neck before he bit down on her shoulder, a common sign of their love. It would turn blue and green before it would turn yellow and be gone again.
Mac did her best to let her hips rotate, moved up and down on his erection while he was busy kneading her milk engorged breasts. Harm was a man, Mac had told herself, who liked hard and good sex but he knew when a woman needed more than a quickie.
Pregnancy made her horny but it wasn't that easy to come for her anymore, he knew that. He had noticed that it was hard for her to stay in one position for some time because of her back. They had tried various things and Mac liked the difference.
"God Harm, yes this time …" and before Mac was able to finish the line his hand was between her spread legs, touching her erected bundle of nerves and Mac started to writhe in pleasure.

Mac got up, with the glass in her hand and started to walk up the cellar stairs, when she suddenly missed a step …

"Mom, please call the ambulance," Harm screamed from the cellar door, Hannah on his hip.

They had called all day long but nobody picked up and in the afternoon Harm decided to come over to have a look if everything was fine.
His parents had checked into the hotel in the morning, it was Christmas day. Harm's stepfather walked towards Harm, who was standing there in shock. He handed him Hannah and ran downstairs towards the lifeless form of his former wife.

"She is still alive," he said and felt the pulse on her neck. He looked around and didn't see any blood, nothing. It was just Mac, a glass shattered next to her. He put one and one together. It wasn't complicated, very simple what happened when he looked around and saw the three other bottles on the bar, two completely empty.
"God Mac, what have you done?"
"Maybe, Harm, you should ask yourself what you have done," his mom told him. Now he noticed her standing next to him.
"What?"
"You know exactly what I mean. What you have done, not what she has done. She tried to drown her pain, sorrow … "
"Mom …"
"I talked to her a few days ago; did you really think nobody would ever tell me the real reason why you got divorced? God Harm, you have two girls and what did you do? You slept around. I understand her."
"It isn't the right place to discuss it now," Trish's husband commented, "Bring her upstairs. A doctor will be here in a few minutes, not the ambulance; I don't want her to be in hospital on Christmas day if possible."

Harm gathered her in his strong arms, Trish took care that her head wasn't hanging back but resting on her son's shoulder while he carried her upstairs into "their" bedroom, or what had been theirs.
He looked around; it was the first time since they got divorced that he was in here. A lot had changed; Mac had tried to get "his touch" out of her skin, which was clear.
The room was painted in a sunny yellow instead of the beige he had picked. The bed wasn't the futon anymore but a four poster bed, really romantic. The curtains' color was light blue; the dresser was in a lighter shade as her old one. She really had changed everything in here. Even the smell was different, it really smelled female but not like Mac's perfume but something more like lilies, not roses anymore.

Harm positioned her on the bed; Trish had pushed the comforter down. Mac was still wearing her black lace nightgown with the warm fluffy red-green robe over it and her warm socks in which she was always running around the house since the kids were born. No shoes allowed in the house anymore because the kids were crawling, stumbling and also running around and she didn't want the dirt inside. Everybody respected that wish and partly understood it.
Mac looked so peaceful lying in bed, her eyes closed, her longer hair put in a bun at her neck.

"The doctor is here Harm," Trish said from the floor.
A middle aged man entered the room with grey hair and a short cut beard.
"I am Dr. Van de Weyden."
"Harmon Rabb."
"What happened to her," he asked, sitting down on the bed beside Mac. He felt her pulse and got out his stethoscope from his bag.
"I don't know. We are divorced, I came to check on her because she didn't pick up and I found her on the base of the cellar staircase."
"She was drinking."
"I noticed."
He asked to be left alone with Mac, so everybody went outside and Trish closed the door. Doctor Van de Weyden checked out Mac's body to see something was broken, but nothing was, thankfully. He noticed several cuts on her thighs, like from a razor. He documented it on a sheet of paper.
After about twenty minutes, he opened the door and Harm and Trish went back inside.
"I don't know what to tell you," he started and looked at his block. "Is there a reason why this woman would be in emotional pain?"
Trish didn't gave Harm the chance to reply, "It will be her first Christmas alone with the kids."
"Oh," was the only thing Van de Weyden said.
"Why?" Harm asked staring at Mac's body.
"She hurt herself, not often but let's say probably regular over the last month."
"What do you mean?"
"She cut herself."
"No, she didn't. Mac would never do something like that," Harm countered, not wanting to believe what he just heard.
"Would you excuse us for a minute Dr. Van de Weyden?"

"Sure."
"Harm come with me," Trish said and pulled Harm into the guest room.
"What is it, Mom?"
"Have you ever thought about what you did to Mac?"
"I don't get it."
"You slept with another woman in her bed while she was the first time out of town."
"Mom, I don't think that it is any of your business."
"It is my business Harm, it is. I cannot believe that you did it. I didn't believe her when she told me over the phone why you left." Now Harm realized that he had never really told her the real reason, he always had found an excuse or changed the topic. "She was and will always be a part of the family, she is the mother of your kids. Mac was always strong, never showed that she was hurt to anybody, never. I never saw her cry in front of anybody, even after Ellen's birth she didn't gave up when you talked about having another baby. She knew it could happen again, she could have died the first time. But you wanted a son, so she tried her best. But unfortunately for you, it was a daughter again."
"Not …"
"Shut up," Trish said harshly, not screaming yet. "I know Mac and I know about the burden on her shoulders. She's loved you for as long as I've known her and suddenly you sleep with another woman in your bed. I think I would have killed you." She took a deep breath. "You probably haven't notice but she's lost quite some weight, did you see her ribs? – I did. Did you really think that she would cope that easily with it? Nobody ever asked her about how she felt."
"She never wanted to be asked."
"And did you ever think about why?" Trish was staring into Harm's eyes, "She never wanted anybody to know why you separated. It didn't take you long to sleep in other women's bed. I never asked you about it because I thought you would tell me someday but I have counted on many reasons, but not this." Trish finished and left the room.

She walked back to the doctor who was waiting at Mac's side.
"Her reflexes are perfect, she probably only has a slight concussion. I think she will wake up within the next two to three hours. She hasn't broken anything but she will have some hematomas on her back, but nothing critical. She will feel really sore, but that is normal. She will need somebody to take care of her over the next few days. I will come back tomorrow afternoon to check on her. Think about the idea that she starts counseling; it would probably be for the best."
"Sure I will talk to her about it. Anything else I need to know?"
Doctor Van de Weyden looked around the room. "If I was her, I wouldn't want my ex around after this accident, he would be the last thing I want to see when I wake up."

Mac was breathing steadily. Trish placed a kiss on Mac's forehead before she left the room to check on her husband and grandchildren. He was feeding Ellen pizza and giving Hannah her good night bottle. It was late. Since they had found Mac, 6 hours had passed.

Harm was sitting in the living room, his head buried in his hands.
"I want you to leave, Harm," his mom said and sat down next to him.
"I cannot, Mac is …"
"No Harm, it is the best. We will take care of her and the kids."
"But …"
"Harm, the doctor also said that it is only the best for her if you aren't around when she wakes up. Remember you are probably the reason why all that happened."
"God …"
"And you haven't seen her thighs and the cuts … it has been a long time since I saw something like that."
"But why?"
"She tried to ease her pain away and nobody would see it, ever."
Tears were running down Harm's cheeks.
"I still don't understand how she could cut herself with a razor blade?" Harm said, the tears also in his voice, "I found the set under the sink in a small leather bag."

Trish only stared at him, he really didn't understand what he did to her.
"Have you ever tried to explain why you betrayed her? Not that there is an excuse but maybe you could have sorted things out and …"
"No. We had an agreement – everything was allowed except for sex with other people. When it happened and she found out, there was no reason to discuss anything. I had failed. I had to go. I left her, left her everything."
"And you have never asked her about how she is feeling?"
"It wasn't my business anymore."
"F…! Harm don't you get it? Are you really that stupid?"

He could only stare at his mother.
"Mac loved you. She didn't see any other way to live with the pain you forced her than to cut herself, to have another heavier pain than the one you caused. She once told me, in the early days of your marriage, that if it ever breaks up between you, she would never have another man again. You were the one and only man she really trusted, and then, a few years later, you … you killed her from inside. Mac has always been emotional, just buried under a thick layer of angst to be hurt. Has she ever told you about her first marriage? About her father? I asked her about it and she told me. You probably asked yourself why she is, sometimes, a little buttoned up – there are reasons for it. But she trusted you Harm, and you played with it. I cannot believe that you are the boy I watched growing up, I told about girls and feelings. No I cannot." Trish finished and left the room.

Harm had really never told Mac why it had happened. Maybe he should have, but he didn't want to make it any worse. No, he didn't.

Ellen came running towards him.
"Why are you crying, daddy?" she asked him, her dark locks dancing around her olive skin.
"Because your mom is hurt."
"Can we go to Mom?"
"Not yet, let her sleep a little bit. Don't you want to get your presents? I am sure that Santa was here last night," Harm said with a sad smile. The doors to the study had been closed, locked. He had unlocked it after coming downstairs. The tree was decorated in Mac's very own way – dark red, dark green and gold. Her warmth showed. The presents were put around the tree, on her desk a nearly finished album was resting. He had looked through it.

There were photos of them, together. Photos of their wedding, the birth of Ellen and Hannah's, various stages of both pregnancies and than there were photos of Christmas before Hannah was born.

"We cannot make love under the Christmas tree, Harm."
"Sure we can. I always wanted to take you under the tree", he moved towards her and softly whispered into her ear, "really hard."
They had decorated the tree for the next morning and put the gifts for the girls under it. "God I love you so much,
Harm," Mac said and started to unbutton Harm's black silk shirt.
"And I cannot get enough of you."
He never wanted to have sex with her under the tree but she had been touching him all day long in a very open manner, even in front of the kids. She wanted him all day long and he had given in now.
After a few years of marriage he knew what she liked. Mac was pregnant eight months with a girl again, he had so much wished for a boy, as had Mac, but it was a girl again and she was happy that she felt that good this time, and not a complicated pregnancy like last time.
Mac had gained more weight with Hannah and Harm liked the new round forms of her body. She liked the way she had to robe her bathrobe between her so much fuller breasts, then when they got married, and her pregnant stomach. Mac wasn't nude under the robe, she was wearing a sexy Victoria's secret red lace nightgown. The underwires were pushing her breasts even a little bit up and together, he could see her dark brown, nearly black nipples through the lace.

All the old memories and feelings were coming up that very moment. He had decided to go, even if he didn't want to. He hadn't planned that Mac would find them in their bed; he hadn't even planned to sleep with this woman, Sharon.

He closed the doors behind him to look after Mac before making his bed in the guestroom.
She was asleep, still. Her breathing was steady and her skin warm. She seemed to have moved because the covers were around her waist.
"God, you are so beautiful," he said and touched her cheek softly; "I still cannot believe that everything is gone."
They had never talked about what happened. She gave him the papers, he signed them. Period. A family split into parts – Mac and their kids, and him.
Slowly he sat down next to her on the bed, touched her hand, and started to hold it. His thump was making small circles on her wrist.
"Wake up for me Mac, wake up," he whispered while he watched her breasts rise and sink under the covers. "I am sure we can find a way to …"
Before he could finish the line Ellen had opened the door and was standing in the middle of the room.
"Daddy," she asked softly to get his attention.
"I thought you were asleep?"
"I had a nightmare," she replied and crawled onto Harm's lap – her small hands wrapped around Harm's and Mac's. Softly the started to cry.
"What is it cutie?"
"What if mom doesn't wake up anymore?"
"I am sure she will."
"But grandma said that maybe …"
"She told you?"
"No … I was behind the sofa playing with Sofie." Sofie was her stuff dog. "What if mom doesn't wake up anymore?"

End Part 2
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