Oh, Billy Campbell, why did you have to mess with Kirsten's head? And why did you have to grow that horrendous beard? Because if it wasn't for these things, I would have loved you.

A big thanks to Sunny, Kazzie, Mariana, Lauren, JenJenxx, Lauren, Natalie, Cynthia, storymom, Christine, Shellie, Ally and Panz for your reviews of the last chapter!

I found Sandy's thoughts/feelings really hard to write, so I hope you like it! Big thanks to Sunny for her help and suggestions. Please keep reviewing!

The OC Confidential

Sandy returned home to an empty house, weary from the evening's events. He dropped the car keys on the table in the hallway, stretching his neck to try and relieve some of the tension he felt. He checked the phone for messages, in case Kirsten had called again, but there was nothing.

The house was eerily silent. Ryan was driving Trey and Marissa home, while Seth was obviously still out at his comic book meeting. Kirsten was still in Featherbrook, an unplanned overnight trip. Sandy contemplated staying up until Seth got home, knowing he should really wait and speak to his son, to catch up on what was going on in his life. He felt a yawn creeping up inside of him and knew it was no use. Sighing heavily, he padded down the hall to his bedroom, stripping himself of his clothes quickly and climbing into bed.

He had always thought the bed was too big for one, but more recently it had felt too small for the two of them. The distance between them had been growing over time, but it was only more recently that he had really felt it. The way she no longer fell into his arms when he entered a room; the way she edged away from him when he was close; the way she avoided spending time alone with him. There was always an excuse, and it was usually work: the Newport Group or, more recently, the magazine.

Sandy recognised that the past year had strained their marriage: the boys leaving for the summer, Caleb and Lindsey, Rebecca. He had messed up with Rebecca, he knew that; but he had apologised and they had tried to move on. But instead of moving forwards together, Sandy felt like they were growing apart and he was left with a feeling of hopelessness. He didn't know what else to say or do to appease his wife. He couldn't change what had happened; a part of him didn't want to change what had happened. He had needed closure with Rebecca, and that was what he had got. But what he hadn't wanted was to destroy his marriage in the process.

Sandy shuddered, despite being under the thick sheets. Was that what he had done?

His mind couldn't help but wander to thinking about Kirsten and Carter in Featherbrook. Trey's words were echoing in his mind:

"I don't know too many men who'd let their wives spend the night with another guy, no less suggest it."

It wasn't that he didn't trust Kirsten – he did. But he was anxious. He had brushed aside Trey's comment, but Sandy wasn't sure he was convinced of his own words.

"How many men you know been married for twenty years?"

But twenty years hadn't stopped the cracks from appearing; twenty years hadn't prevented them from reaching this point. He had always been able to guess what Kirsten was thinking, they had always been so in tune with each other. A simple look would tell him what she was feeling. But not any more; and it was now he wished he knew what thoughts were filling her mind.

He trusted her; she had never lied or cheated before. Except she had. He remembered last year, when he had discovered that Jimmy had kissed her. She had kept it a secret from him, telling him that she didn't want to upset him. She had looked him in the eye and told him that nothing had happened, but it had and she was lying to him. He remembered how upset and angry he had been when he had found out the truth: upset because his wife's lips had touched someone else's and angry that she had lied to him.

Both Kirsten and Jimmy had reassured him that it was Jimmy who instigated the kiss, and Sandy believed them. Kirsten had never done anything to make him doubt her words and Sandy realised that all he could do right now was trust her. She deserved that.

Sandy yawned again, feeling sleep take over his body. As he closed his eyes, he wondered what she was doing right now.

Kirsten was sat silently in the back of the car. She had listened to Carter make small talk with the driver until he had fallen silent himself. They had barely spoken since they had left the hotel room, an awkwardness falling between them.

She wondered if Carter knew how close she had come…how close she had come to cheating on her husband; because she knew. Kirsten knew that if she had stayed at Featherbrook with Carter, she would have broken every bond of trust that had ever existed between her and Sandy.

That thought scared her. She had been strong enough to resist tonight, but what about the future? Would she always be able to say no? She had told Carter that she needed to go home – but did she want to?

She thought about home: about Sandy; about Seth and Ryan. Her family; her boys. The love that she had for the three of them combined had stopped her from acting on her feelings for Carter tonight. She wondered if the love she had for Sandy alone would have stopped her and immediately felt nauseas as guilty coursed through her body.

Kirsten wished she could turn back time to last year, before Ryan had left and Seth had run away; before Lindsey; before Rebecca and Carter. She wanted to go back to the days when she and Sandy would argue over his lack of romanticism for Valentine's Day or his over enthusiasm for leaving Newport to return to Berkeley. She wanted to go back to the days when it was just Kirsten and Sandy. Not Kirsten, Sandy and Rebecca; or Kirsten, Sandy and Carter. But she couldn't go back to her old life, she was stuck with this one.

And in this life there was Carter.

Kirsten was glad when the view of Newport appeared round the corner, breaking her thoughts. She watched the familiar scenery that they passed, relieved when the car finally pulled up outside her house. Carter was the first one out the car and he opened her door like a gentleman. Kirsten barely lifted her head as she bade him goodnight.

"I'll see you at work on Monday," Kirsten said softly.

Carter nodded. "Goodnight Kirsten."

Kirsten crept quietly into the house, assuming that everyone was in bed and asleep. She made her way to her bedroom and saw the familiar form of her husband sleeping. The light from the hallway shone into the room onto Sandy's face and he stirred.

"You're home?" were the first words he spoke, his voice filled with surprise.

"Uh, yeah. They, uh, they found us a car and it seemed silly to stay when we could just come home," Kirsten mumbled, feeling her heart race under his gaze. She disappeared into the bathroom and splashed cold water over her face. She stared at herself in the mirror, willing herself to calm down.

"Kirsten?"

Sandy's voice floated into the bathroom.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, just getting changed," Kirsten called back. She changed slowly into her pyjamas and wandered back into the bedroom. Sandy was now propped up in bed, waiting for her.

"How was Featherbrook?" Sandy asked.

Kirsten felt her face blush and she was glad that the room was dark. "It was good. Work, you know. How did everything go with Trey?"

"It's all over. The kids found out who supplied the drugs at the party and the police arrested him tonight," Sandy answered, noting her cagey answer and immediate change of subject.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Well, it was a bit more eventful than just that. But Trey is out of trouble," Sandy said, his eyes following her as she moved around the bedroom.

"That's good," Kirsten smiled half-heartedly.

She climbed carefully into the bed, curling up with her back to Sandy. He slipped his arm around his waist. Kirsten flinched slightly at his touch, but he didn't seem to notice.

"I'm glad you're home," Sandy whispered into the dark. Glad she was home with him; glad she wasn't staying out overnight with someone else.

"Me too," Kirsten whispered back, wishing she meant it.