Disclaimer: I don't own, just playing and not making money off it.

Authors Note: Well, folks, just have the epilogue to do now. Sorry this chapter was kind of short but it got across everything that I wanted it to. I really hope you all enjoyed the story and stick around for the epilogue! Lots of hugs go out to my reviewers, I wish you all the best holiday season ever!

Sins of the Father

Chapter Seventeen: Goren's Grace

Grace turned on the coffeepot when she heard the water turn off in the bathroom. Not knowing where or how long the conversation was going to be, she figured she should be prepared. Mentally she talked herself up for the worst. That he was here solely for the purpose of finishing what he wanted to do before he received news of his mother's death. She kept repeating the mantra: You want him happy. This will make him happy. She heard him step into the kitchen and set something down on the counter. A small perfume bottle was there.

"What's that?" She looked over to see Bobby, hair damp from his shower and dressed in his dry jeans and black sweater. His eyes were on the floor and he was shuffling his feet.

"It's your, uh, it's your perfume."

Grace picked up the bottle and noticed that it was her perfume. Sarah had bought it for her, picking out the scent since Grace couldn't. "How did you get this?"

He moved over to the window in the kitchen and stared out at the rain. "I took it. I came over after coming back from Carmel Ridge last week. I didn't...I didn't want to be alone."

"And how does my perfume fit into this?" Grace had to lean towards him to hear his whispered answer.

"I, uh, I used it, to...to uh, spray on my pillow."

Grace leaned back against the kitchen counter. Her head hurt, her chest hurt and the weariness of the day was catching up with her. "Why did you do that after what you said at the hospital?"

He finally turned to look at her, confusion written on his face but realization soon followed. "You heard all that?"

Grace nodded. "I understand how you feel. I worry about your safety too. I had a week of thinking and I came to conclusion that this whole Nicole Wallace mess is my fault."

"How is it your fault?"

"I was the one that discovered Sophie Kapirelli's suicide wasn't a suicide. That's what connected Kapirelli to Tabbitha Lewis, which led us to the high quality coke that Wallace and her boyfriend were running. So, everything that happened, it really is my fault."

"You did your job, very well." A dark look passed across his face. "And then some."

"Bobby-"

"I can't take it, Grace." He threw his hands up in the air and started pacing around the kitchen. "That day I found you in the morgue. I can't get that picture out of my mind. Opening that drawer and seeing you there, bruised and broken. You looked dead. Then there was the interrogation room. Watching them lift you off the floor with that pen sticking out of your chest. I haven't slept for the past week because every time I close my eyes, I see you dead. And I can't take it."

Grace squared her shoulders and forced the words out of her mouth. "Then leave."

He gave her a thoroughly shocked look, which would have been comical if she was inclined to laugh. But the words had hurt coming out and it looked like they hurt to be heard as well. Bobby finally seemed to find his voice again. "What?"

"I don't want to cause you so much pain and apparently, that's all I have caused you so maybe it's best if you just left and we won't have any more dealings with each other."

His pacing had stopped and hands had stilled. Grace had to fight back tears at the desperation and fear that had become evident in his eyes. Grace took a step back from him and found her back up against a wall. Perhaps she had been wrong about his coming to her place. Maybe he didn't want to leave her after all. Maybe she had been pushing all the wrong buttons with him. What kind of hateful person was she turning into? Shame flooded her face and she could feel the heat color her cheeks a bright red. She hung head to avoid looking at him.

"How can you say something like that, Grace?"

She heard him take a step towards her but she remained silent.

"Don't you remember New Years Eve?"

Their first kiss.

"Central Park?"

Playing with her niece and nephew he admitted wanting a family.

"Valentine's Day?"

He had told her he loved her. A tear slipped down her cheek. "What about...what you said at the hospital?"

"I was scared. I thought had I had lost you again. This past week has been an emotional circus and the only emotion that I can identify has been guilt."

"Guilt?"

"Yes, guilt. I felt culpable for what I had said at the hospital. Then I felt guilty over being relieved by my mother's death."

Grace chanced a glance up at him and found him on the other side of the kitchen again, staring out the window. "There's nothing wrong with feeling relieved over that, Bobby."

"She was my mother."

"I know. And you carried that burden with incredible strength. There should be a sense of relief." Grace moved slightly, putting the counter behind her, using her arms to keep her standing. Exhaustion was rolling over her in waves. But she had to get to the end of this discussion.

"I still pick up the phone every evening, getting ready to dial her number. I woke up Sunday morning, prepared to drive out to Carmel Ridge. And then I realize..."

Grace's vision blurred. Bobby sounded like he was in a tunnel, his voice coming from a very long distance. She felt her knees buckle but straightened her arms to keep herself from falling. Darkness fell suddenly and she wondered what was so cool on her face.

He was searching for something to say, some way of letting her know how he was feeling when he heard her hit the floor. Alarm overrode any guilt he was feeling at that moment as he knelt down next to her to check her pulse. It was high, but strong. As gently as he could, he gathered her in his arms and lifted her off the floor.

He should have taken into consideration her injuries, the fact that she most likely left the hospital before she should have. He should have known that she couldn't stand for as long as she had. She should probably go back to the hospital and stay there for a few more days. But for now, he was putting her in her own bed. Halfway down the hall, she woke up.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

She turned her head, burying it into his chest. "Don't leave?"

"No, I'm not leaving." He gently set her down on top of her bed, a quilt her Aunt Carol had made for her when she went off to college. "Do you want to get under the covers?"

She was struggling to sit up. "Can't sleep lying down yet."

He hadn't thought about that either. Way to go Goren. He helped her into a sitting position, stuffing pillows behind her. "I'm sorry."

She let her head fall back against the pillows, color was slowly coming back into her face. "Me too. Lay down with me?"

Quietly, he crawled up on the bed with her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and letting the other fall across her stomach. "Is this comfortable?"

She nodded her head and then rested it on his chest. "I've missed you so much."

"I know," he pressed his lips to her forehead. "I've missed you too. Are you feeling better?"

"Much."

He wanted to tell her not to worry about his leaving anymore. He simply couldn't do it. He tried to stay away from her for a week and it undid him. Now, holding her in a protective embrace with her half-asleep, he realized he never could be separated from her. They did fit. They were a ying-yang that simply wasn't one without the other. He and Alex were partners and probably would be till they retired, and they fit perfectly together, but that was business.

This, he looked down at the red-headed woman was currently slipping into a sound sleep, this was love.

"I love you, Grace."

She mumbled what he deciphered as a return of affection. Her breathing deepened until it came in an even pace. The rain still pounded off the windows and between that and Grace's relax breathing and warmth next to him, he soon slipped into the first restful sleep he had had in over a week.