DISCLAIMER: I don't own The OC or its characters.

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Kirsten shakily got out of the cab and watched as it pulled away. "Am I really going to do this?" she thought to herself as she took a deep breath and turned around to face the future. A future with no more alcohol.

A receptionist looked up from her computer, surprised to see someone walking in at this hour of the morning. It was 3am.

"Can I help you?" she asked warmly when she looked Kirsten over. It was obvious that this wasn't an intruder, as the receptionist could tell from Kirsten's red eyes and hesitation that she was there for help.

"Hi…I'm Kirsten Cohen…and I need help…" Kirsten forced out painfully. Her voice broke when she said "I need help".

"Mrs. Cohen?" the receptionist said confused, "we aren't expecting you till 8am."

"I know…I wasn't going to come at all, but I was thinking about it all night…I have to do this…but I just couldn't face the embarrassment of saying good bye to my family…watching my kids see me go to rehab," Kirsten said through tears. She was pouring her heart out to this woman she didn't even know, something the old Kirsten would have never done. Maybe this was a sign that things were going to get better.

"Well as long as you realize that your actual time in rehab doesn't start until 8am, then I can show you to your room. I suggest getting some sleep as tomorrow you'll be in meetings all day. Not boring meetings. Fun ones, trust me. You're not going to regret coming here," the receptionist said sweetly.

Kirsten nodded, still surprised that she was actually in rehab.

The receptionist handed Kirsten a phone, saying, "Here, first call your husband and let him know you're here. He'll be worried about you if he wakes up and sees you're not home."

Kirsten hesitated, but took the phone.

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Sandy quickly headed out. He had no idea where he was going, but he had to find Kirsten. He went to Julie's. No sign of Kirsten there. He went to the Newport Office, thinking maybe Kirsten would try to escape by hiding out in the office. No sign of her there. He didn't know where else to go. Kirsten had secluded herself from the Newpsies recently and wasn't the type to go to the beach. So, he headed home. If Kirsten still wasn't home, he would call the police.

Sandy arrived home to find an empty house. Seth and Ryan had left for school. Sandy frowned, thinking that the boys probably thought that Sandy had taken Kirsten to rehab before they got up and that Kirsten didn't say good bye to them. Little did they know Sandy had no idea where Kirsten was.

He walked into the kitchen to find a letter on the kitchen island, near the bagel cutter. It was as if the note was purposely placed there so that Sandy would find it.

He quickly opened it, finding that it was from Kirsten, who said that she checked herself into rehab earlier that morning – that she couldn't face saying good bye to her family. He quickly took out the rehab brochure he had in his desk drawer and dialed the number. He couldn't trust Kirsten nowadays.

To his relief, Kirsten hadn't lied. She was, in fact, in rehab. Sandy was surprised when the receptionist told him that Kirsten had called him, and then it occurred to him that he ran out that morning without looking at his phone.

"Can I talk to her?" Sandy pleaded.

"I'm sorry Mr. Cohen, but your wife's rehab time officially started. She can't talk to any outsiders for 3 days. Don't worry though, Kirsten seems like a very determined person. I'm sure she's going to be fine."

Sandy then checked his voice mail. Sure enough, Kirsten's message was on his phone. She had called him at 3:20am. "Sandy, I checked myself into rehab this morning. Last night I realized that I had to go, but I didn't want to face saying good bye to you and the boys. Tell them I love them and that I came here for them…and you. I wish you could be here with me Sandy, I miss you already."

A few tears filled into Sandy's eyes when he heard that message. Finally, Kirsten indirectly admitted she had a problem and she had said that she missed Sandy. That made him feel good.

Sandy then called Seth and left a message on his cell phone telling him the good news.

The quietness of the empty house paralleled how Sandy found himself, lonely. After over 4 weeks of watching his wife hurt herself and lash out at her family, and him arguing with her, spying on her drinking habits, and pleading with her to stop drinking, all of that had suddenly stopped. For the first time in weeks, Sandy actually had a spare minute to himself. He headed out to the garage and grabbed his surf board. He needed to do something relaxing.

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Back at rehab, Kirsten's 6 weeks at rehab had officially started. She was now 2 hours into rehab, attending her first meeting, which was an ice breaker to let new guests become acquainted with everyone.

Once the meeting broke for lunch, Kirsten headed back to her room, awkwardly sitting down on the bed. While it was a nice bed, it wasn't her bed. It wasn't the bed she shared with her husband for the last 20 years.

It occurred to her that she hadn't unpacked anything yet as she was still wearing what she had put on that morning. She remembered that Sandy had packed her suitcase and became anxious to see what he had packed her, but almost afraid to look. She felt bad for how she had been treating him and she knew that he probably put in stuff that would make her smile. Sure enough, he did.

Packed in between her clothes were "goodies". The first one was one of Sandy's favorite 8x10 paintings that Kirsten had painted back at Berkeley. It had been hanging in the Cohens' living room.

The second one was a picture of Kirsten's mother and Kirsten, after her mother got out of rehab for the same problem Kirsten was there for.

The third item was the family Chrismukkah picture that had been hanging on the fridge ever since it was taken.

And the last item, at the very bottom of the suitcase, was a picture of Sandy and Kirsten during happier times, this one taken at Cotillion a few years earlier.

A small smile fell onto Kirsten's face as she looked over each item, happy that Sandy had secretly put the items in her suitcase. Along with what he had packed, Kirsten also took a few things to make her stay at rehab as pleasant as possible. Out of her purse (which had been checked earlier), she took out the plastic ring Sandy had given her a few months ago. She may have not had her wedding set, but this would do for now. She slowly slid it onto her finger, liking the way it looked…showing that she was taken. She decided to leave it on for the remainder of her stay at rehab. It would represent her commitment to successfully completing the program.

Her thoughts were interrupted when one of the nurses came in with her new state id she would have for a year that read, "Not A Drivers License". She sighed. It hadn't been that bad at rehab yet until now, when she remembered that she wouldn't be driving for a whole year. Suddenly she felt hopeless again. A year felt so far away.

It would be so obvious that she had lost her license. It would be so embarrassing. Tears started forming in her eyes again. Along with the hopelessness and worries came cravings for alcohol. It seemed like everything Kirsten had done so far that day had gotten her mind off of alcohol, but once she was alone, it was easy for alcohol to creep back into her mind. Her hands started shaking as she longed for a drink. Trying not to panic and to calm her craving, she grabbed a cup of water and put it to her lips, trying to imagine the water was alcohol.

She came to the conclusion that rehab wasn't going to be as easy as she thought. She looked at the clock. Four and a half hours down, only 5 weeks and 6 days to go.

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