A little bit shorter, a bit lighter. Just because I hated the idea of their missing Seth's launch.

"If we hurry, we can still make it on time," said Sandy, glancing at his watch doubtfully. Kirsten came from inside the walk-closet, fumbling with the zipper on her navy blue dress.

"Sorry," she said distractedly, as she awkwardly tried to grab the pull. Slightly unsure of himself, Sandy stepped over and silently did up the zipper for her.

"Thanks," Kirsten told him quietly. He was still nervous, but—he kissed her. And she kissed him back! Not passionately, not as she would've last year…but she didn't push him away from her, nor did she stand there and just let him feel like a jerk, so it was a start.

"So, Seth…has a comic book." Kirsten laughed lightly as she slipped her feet into backless high-heeled sandals.

"Yup," he replied.

"And he and Summer and Zach are in on it," she continued. Sandy snickered a bit.

"Oh, yeah."

"You think this is gonna go smoothly?" He grinned mischievously.

"Not a chance in hell. I wouldn't miss it for the world." They had fallen back into their "safe" positions, the endearingly goofy guy and his perfect wife. This was good, this was normal…Sandy only hoped that Kirsten was really back, and not faking it.

The party didn't go well, to say the least. Both adult Cohens could barely keep from bursting into laughter (or tears of horror) at the antics of their son. Oh, there would be punishments; they would make sure of that. But it was amusing.

"You looked beautiful tonight, did I tell you that?" murmured Sandy as he helped Kirsten undo her zipper.

"Thanks," she said, casually letting her dress fall to the floor. He gulped. She definitely hadn't been wearing much under that dress. He started mentally tallying the amount of time since they'd had sex. When he realized he had to count in weeks…months…rather than days…

"Good night, Sandy," she said sleepily, having changed into a camisole and pair of boxers. He sighed. It was going to take more than one conversation to get them back to normal. They were really going to have to try.

Try. As Sandy was learning, it was easier said than done. He glanced at his wife, who lay next to him, her chest gently rising and falling, her tousled blonde hair falling slightly in her face, and tried to take comfort in their talk of the day before. Somehow, though, it wasn't quite possible. Sweet sentiment was calming at night, but then the morning comes, and they actually had to act on their words. Sandy found himself begging silently that Kirsten would wake up the woman she had been at that time last year, upset, yes, about Theresa and her dad's marriage, but confident in her own marriage. Suddenly, impulsively, he leaned forward, pushed the hair from her face, and kissed her. Her eyes opened drowsily.

"Good morning, beautiful," he said softly. Kirsten scrunched up her eyes and stretched, her slim body looking even thinner as she raised her arms.

"Hi," she said sleepily, opening her eyes again. A slow smile began to spread across Sandy's face.

"I don't think I've told you yet today how much I love you." She tried to relax as he leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. This was what she wanted, her husband's love and undivided attention, yet tension and anxiety coursed through her body. He was kissing her again, slowly, lazily, lovingly, but suddenly all she wanted was to pull away.

Noticing his wife's lack of enthusiasm, Sandy broke the kiss. He took a moment to study Kirsten's face, which seemed embarrassed and apologetic.

"Are you okay, baby?" he asked softly.

"I'm fine," was the automatic response. Then—"No, not really—I don't know—it just...feels...funny." He sighed heavily, and her hand went instinctively to stroke his cheek.

"Don't worry. It's just...been awhile. And it's early morning, and it was a long night, what with Seth...and Zach...and Summer." The delicate pads of her fingers were caressing his jaw.

"I won't kiss you if you don't want to be kissed."

"Oh, believe me. I want to be kissed. It's been long enough," she said with a teasing laugh, but there was enough edge to her voice that it was unsettling. "But...yesterday was just a start. There are a lot of other things we need to get...out there." Kirsten looked her husband straight in the eyes as she continued her fondling of his face. "And you're not going to be happy with me...but I hope you can forgive me, anyway." Sandy's own hand suddenly went to his wife's, and he gently pulled it away.

"What's wrong?" She sighed.

"Carter and I...we had a thing," Kirsten told him carefully. As she saw the light in Sandy's face dim, she hurried to explain. "We didn't do anything—ever. He kissed me lightly good-bye, but not in a way I wouldn't kiss a relative. But...there was an emotional attachment, and I...he never, he could never mean as much to me as you do, but..." It was hard, seeing the pain in his eyes. Just finish, as quickly as possible, and beg for forgiveness. "I was feeling insecure, and I was still hurt, an-and mad at you for the whole Rebecca Bloom thing that it just...he was there, and you have so much in common, and I could talk to him, and he'd never hurt me...Oh, Sandy, I'm so sorry." Kirsten almost wanted to die at the dead look on his face, which had just moments ago been so alive.

"Yeah, well," he said, his voice weighted with emotion. "I've got no right to hold it against you...I probably should've told you, but I didn't think it was important, and you were already so upset..." She pulled away from him.

"You slept with her."

"No. Never." Now it was Sandy's turn to stroke her face. "But I did kiss her. Once. She kissed me, really; I just...let it happen." Kirsten pushed his hand away. "Kirsten. Twenty-three years ago, she and I were together. We thought we were going to spend our lives together. Then one day she was gone. She never even said good-bye. I never got any closure on...on us. I mean, then I met you, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I love you more than the world, but...I never got to say good-bye to her; she just up and left. She lived in my mind, you know, getting fainter as the years went by, but always in my mind as young and independent and the girl I almost married. She and I never really broke up. Kirsten...before you hate me again...think about it. We went to Jimmy Cooper's wedding. We lived next door to him for ten years. You watched him grow into middle age as someone else's husband. You two closed the book. Rebecca and I never finished the story."

Kirsten looked at her hands. What he was saying made sense, but she didn't want to admit it. He loved her. He'd only ever wanted her. She didn't want to think about his having loved anyone before her, having touched any girl before her...just imagining the two of them as young lovers was enough to break her heart. She felt vaguely hypocritical at the Jimmy reference; she remembered so many occasions on which she'd mentioned her first love, and now she had a semblance of how much they must have hurt Sandy. But still.

"Kirsten, baby," said Sandy finally, breaking the silence. "I promise, she only means the past to me. I just needed closure. Please...understand that. I love you so much more."

"How do I know?" she asked, her words unsure but steady. "I mean, you must've told her that, too."

"Because," he said, impassioned. "Because I've grown up so much since I was twenty-two, and emotions that I wasn't even—capable—of feeling then, are how I feel about you. You are the only woman I ever want to love. We've made, together, the only world I ever want to know. Please," his eyes begged. "Please, Kirsten, please believe me. Please."

"I believe you," Kirsten finally told him. She suddenly, impulsively leaned forward and kissed him, warmly, playfully, intensely. He looked at her, surprised, when she pulled her face away.

"We got that out of the way," she shrugged. "Now I feel like kissing." Suddenly, they heard the sound of a door banging downstairs.

"Seth," sighed Sandy.

"We need to deal with him," stated Kirsten, rolling her eyes slightly. She got up and walked over to the closet to get her robe.

"Can you get mine, too, baby?"

"Sure," she said, tossing him the fuzzy blue robe. As he put it on, he caught her looking at him.

"I'm glad we had our little…discussion," she said.

"Me, too."

"I really love you, you know."

"I love you."

"Now let's go deal with our crazy son." A smile spread across Sandy's face.

"You're on."