Sydney tells Michael that her tears are nothing, that she's just feeling very emotional, which is mostly true. It isn't as if he's done anything that she can call him on; it's more just a feeling she has.

"Are you sure?" he asks, brushing her hair back from her face, brow knitted in concern.

"I'm sure," she says, wiping her tears away with the heel of her hand.

"What can I do to make you feel better, sweetie?" His face is so earnest, so concerned.

Just stay you, she thinks. Keep being my strong, wonderful husband who adores me and takes care of me and knows that he makes me as happy as I make him. But when she looks at him, words fail her. "Just hold me," she whispers. "And let me fall asleep in your arms."

"Of course, baby."

He doesn't even pull away from her long enough to undress, just stays there with her all night in his rumpled suit. For once, he's still there in bed when she wakes, though a glance at her clock tells her it is past six a.m. "Michael," she murmurs, shaking him gently. "Didn't you hear your alarm? You'd better get up."

"s," he murmurs, rising groggily. "I forgot to turn it on last night." He looks down at his rumpled suit in confusion; his face clears when he looks at her, as if he suddenly remembers why such things as getting undressed and setting the alarmed seemed unimportant to him the night before. "Are you okay, baby?"

"I'm fine," she says, forcing a smile. "Now hurry and jump in the shower. You're going to miss your train into the city."

He nods, not looking a hundred percent sure. Then Gracie cries, and Sydney moves to go get her up, and he takes that as his cue to follow her instructions.

By the time he comes downstairs, clean and in a fresh suit, Grace has finished her bottle and is settled in her playpen in the kitchen. Sydney offers her husband a thermos of coffee, something she rarely does-- she's usually barely awake by the time he leaves.

"Thanks, babe," he says, looking surprised. "You're so sweet." He leans over to kiss her, quickly; she grabs his tie and pulls him in for a real kiss.

"What was that?" he asks with a laugh when they part.

"I don't know," she says a bit shyly. "I've just-- I've missed you this week."

His eyes flash with surprise. "I'm busy lots of weeks, Syd," he says-- not defensively, but as if he truly is surprised she missed him.

"I know," she says, brushing imaginary lint from his lapel. "You just-- you don't have to work too much this weekend, do you?"

"I'm sure I'll have to go in for awhile in the morning," he says apologetically. "Not long, I promise. I can't wait to just kick back and relax with you and the kids all weekend."

"Really?" She knows a ridiculously large grin is spreading over her face, but she can't do anything to stop it.

"Syd! Why do you sound so surprised?" he laughs, leaning in to kiss her.

"No reason. I don't know." She shakes her head, suddenly feeling as if her worries, her crying spell the night before, were utterly ridiculous. "And we're still going to the gallery opening tonight, right?"

He looks down at his feet. Aha, Sydney thinks. The guilt rears its ugly head. "We don't have to go, Syd--"

"Sure we do," she says, trying to keep her tone light. "I already bought a dress. You'll love it, Michael. The color is similar to the nightgown you gave me last weekend." She brushes a quick kiss across his neck. "Maybe I'll get a chance to wear that later, too, hmm?"

He smiles, a little shyly. "I'd like that," he says, his voice soft.

The look they share is charged with all of the emotions they have been feeling for the past week. Uncertainty. Questions. But most of all, hope that maybe things don't have to change. At least not in the ways that either of them have feared.

"I think-- I think tonight might actually be fun," Michael tells her, his voice so sweet and hopeful she wants to cry. "It'll mostly be different people than we usually see, and I hear that this artist does some really interesting work."

"Maybe we'll even see something we want to buy," Sydney comments. "We still have so many bare walls here."

"Yeah, maybe." He leans over to capture her lips in a quick, spontaneous kiss. "You're so great. I love you."

"I love you, too," she says, her voice full of feeling.

He smiles, then glances at his watch, eyes widening in alarm. "Shit, I've really gotta go. Love you, Syd. Love you, Gracie." He picks his daughter up for a quick kiss before he runs out the door.

Sydney hums to herself as she picks up Gracie and goes to wake Jack up so he can get ready for school.

Actually, she feels like singing.