Vignette 7

CONCEPTION

"No. Tell Barnes I'll meet with him tomorrow morning," I snap into the phone, pinching the bridge of my nose in an attempt to stave off my annoyance. "Eight o'clock. My office."

At the sound of footsteps, I glance up, seeing Hudson enter the study, watching me hesitantly. I frown slightly and look at my watch. I'm supposed to meet Helen for a date in an hour; hopefully Hudson isn't here to play pool. I hate telling her no.

"I'll call you later," I tell Gabe before hanging up the phone and standing to greet her. "This is a surprise."

"I'm… I'm not interrupting, am I?"

My frown deepens as I realized Hudson seems hesitant, almost frightened; that isn't like her. Even with the change in our relationship, she stills walks into the mansion like she belongs her, without fear of rejection. Now that I'm looking at her more closely, her skin is paler than usual, eyes wide. I move toward her, taking her hands in mine, surprised at how cold her fingers are.

"Hudson, what is it? Is something wrong?"

"I… " She trails off as she stares up at me, mouth gaping like she can't find the right words. Again, very uncharacteristic of her. Typically, Hudson won't shut up.

"Is it something bad?" I tug on her hands, guiding her over to the couch to sit down beside me. "Tell me, Angel. You know that if I can help, I will."

Hudson sucks in a deep breath and looks away, eyes filling with tears. "Lex, I… Oh, Lex. I'm so scared."

"Hudson Kent? Scared?" I scoff with a soft smile, attempting to lighten the mood. "I don't believe it. What could you possibly be scared of? Besides spiders, that is."

She brings her gaze back to me, her fingers curling against my own in a too-tight grip. "Lex, I… " Her voice drops to a whisper. "I think I'm… pregnant."

I stare at her in shock, unable to adequately process her words. Blinking once, I fight back the immediate rage at the thought of her with another man. Selfish and irrational, I silently tell myself. I'm the one that ended this. I'm the one who told her that we couldn't be together. So who am I to tell her she can't be with anyone else? I've moved, and so should Hudson. Still, to be faced with something like this is almost too much. Shouldn't she have gone to the possible father instead of me?

Knowing she trusts me, and unable to not feel pleasure at the realization she can still come to me, even after all that's happened, I squeeze her hands in support. "It's all right. It'll be okay, Angel. Can you… uh, tell me who the father might be?"

Silence. She stares at me in apparent disbelief before blinking, shaking her head. "Lex… you're the only… I mean, there's never been anyone else."

Overwhelming nausea.

I drop her hands and stand, walking away quickly before I do or say something I'll inevitably regret. Impossible. Completely and utterly… No.

"What the hell, Hudson?" I whirl back around to glare at her. It's hard not to wonder if this is just some pathetic ploy to get me back. "How? We were careful, dammit."

"T-The week you were staying with us," she stammers, seeming small suddenly, shrinking in on herself. "That night… we didn't... it was spontaneous and – "

"You're supposed to be on the Pill!"

Hudson blanches. "My parents… that is, they don't… they didn't want me… they don't believe in the Pill."

It's a lie. It's the most blatant and unimaginative lie I've ever heard her tell. She isn't even trying. I want to throw something at her, and call her out for the liar that she is.

"Goddammit, Hudson!" I yell, my control snapping. "If this is some fucking feeble attempt of yours to get me to leave Helen, then you'd better be honest with me this instant! I've dealt with enough damn false paternity suits over the years – I'm not falling for this one just because it's you!"

She bursts into tears and it hits me that this isn't something she made up; she's truly terrified. And now I am, too. Sure, I've had lovers come to me with the same problem over the years, though a good number of them were usually on purpose. It's far too tempting to give birth to the Luthor heir, to imagine the life of luxury that would be afforded to both mother and child. The easy way to wrangle a marriage proposal, or at least monthly alimony payments. Not surprisingly, each and every one had been an easy pay off – my dad was usually the first to hear of them, to offer the women cash and medical costs in exchange for an abortion and silence. Sometimes, he made me clean up my own messes, and it mattered little when I did so. I hardly knew these women; I certainly didn't plan on spending the rest of my life with them. The only women I ever allowed into my life on more than a one-night stand basis were those I trusted to be smart enough not to attempt to ruin my life or theirs.

Unfortunately, Hudson doesn't fall into any of these categories, and for once, I am completely at a loss for what to do.

Running a hand over my scalp, I remove my handkerchief from my pocket and walk over to give it to her. "Stop crying," I tell her, my voice devoid of emotion.

She shakes her head as she takes the piece of silk from my hand, covering her eyes. "You don't understand," she cries. "You can't."

I know her comment isn't simply teenage dramatics. I assume this is with regards to all of her secrets, and I can admit to myself, if my suspicions are true, the implications of a possible pregnancy are overwhelming. Sighing, I sit on the edge of the coffee table across from her, folding my hands in front of me. It's far too tempting to reach out and take her into my arms, and tell her that everything is going to be all right. But then, I'd be giving in to emotions and hope that I can't allow myself to feel.

"Hudson, calm down. Let's think through this rationally," I begin, waiting until her sobs subside slightly and she raises her red-rimmed eyes to mine. "Good. Now, how can you be certain of this? That night only happened five weeks ago."

Sniffling once, Hudson wipes at her eyes before answering, "I should have had my period that following week. I'm like clockwork. I can almost tell time by it. And it hasn't happened."

I frown. "You've been going through a lot lately, Angel. It's possible that your entire system is off-balance."

"I took five pregnancy tests this afternoon," she tells me in a quick breath. "They all said positive!"

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Dammit, Hudson!" I stand to pace, rubbing the back of my neck. "I can't believe you lied to me about something as important as being on birth control!"

"I didn't!" She argues. "I never said I was! You just took it for granted."

I want to strangle her. I hate how she always excuses her behavior. "You can't take responsibility for any of your actions, can you?" I demand, turning to face her angrily.

"Me?" Her tears are gone for the moment, and I'm more comfortable because of it. "You're the one who started it that night, Lex. You're the one who fucked me through the table, remember?"

I close my eyes. "Don't talk like that," I admonish quietly before turning away once more. I need to get control here. "We need to… have you told your parents?"

"Are you insane?!"

Good. That means we can take care of this, without them ever knowing.

Maybe.

Dammit.

There's this part of me… I mentally shake the thought away before walking back over to the couch, and sitting beside Hudson. I take her hands back in mine and reach up to wipe her tears away.

"It's going to be all right," I assure her with more confidence than I feel. "You're not alone. Whatever happens… well, we'll deal with it together."

Her eyes widen a little as she watches me. "Do you… I mean, what if… what if I am pregnant? What if it's real?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," I respond noncommittally.

Hudson frowns, her gaze dropping to our hands. "Lex, if I am… " She sighs and shakes her head. "I've grown up seeing my mother's sorrow over not being able to have children and I couldn't… you can't ask me – "

"I said we'll make that decision when we have to, Hudson."

Because, for once, I know I wouldn't be able to ask it. To voice it. And I can't even allow myself to contemplate the idea of Hudson carrying my child. Whatever lies might exist between us, however much she might not trust me, I certainly couldn't lay the blame on an innocent child. Our child. She's not even seventeen yet, and I have no idea what my role in this world is supposed to be, but still the thought of spending my life with her, of having a family and a home all my own is… I can't let myself think of it.

"We need to schedule an appointment with a doctor."

Her eyes widen again, slightly panicked. "No! I mean… " She's backed herself into a corner; I can see it. I try not to revel in her desperation to dig her way out of this one. "That is… You're right." Her shoulders slump slightly, and I can see her mind whirling behind her eyes.

Silence stretches between us, neither of us knowing what to say. I'm supposed to meet Helen in another half hour, and yet here I am, sitting with my ex-girlfriend, considering the unthinkable. Life is never what I expect it to be, or what I plan it to be. My father would tell me it's due to my own mistakes, my lack of planning, my inability to not dive head first into all things with my emotions on display and my eyes shut. He'd laugh if he knew about this. He'd shake his head and tell me how he expected it. Another mistake in my long line of never-ending failures.

"I'm scared," Hudson whispers softly.

I want to berate her, to tell her she should be and that this is all her fault. She's destroying her own life, she's ruining my relationship with Helen – the first thing I've felt that I've truly done right in my life. Her parents will be disappointed in her, they'll hate me more than they do, she'll lose friends and have no future and… There's hope in me that I shouldn't be feeling. I tell myself I don't want this, but this wouldn't be the first time I've lied to myself. I wish I could point out to her how wrong this is, that we've both made a huge mistake, and how many lives we'll be ruining if it's true.

But instead of lecturing her in the manner she deserves, I reach out to pull her into my arms, where she belongs. Where I don't want her to be.

"Shhhh." I whisper, petting her silky hair, lingering in her warmth even as she clings to me as if I can somehow make it all go away. "Everything will be all right. We'll face this together. No matter what happens."

--------------

Lunch with Helen. I'm looking forward to it; I need something to get my mind off of everything else. Helen has a way of calming me with just her presence. She's very smart and very honest and grounds me when I find myself drifting away from everything around me. Maybe I use her for that – to try to bring me back to myself, back to someone I can recognize. I care for her. I do. I just don't know if I care for her the way she seems to care for me. I don't know if I'm capable of that, and she deserves so much more from me.

I didn't make our date last night. After the news from Hudson… well, I just couldn't bring myself to face her. I had a lot of thinking to do. I still have a lot of thinking to do. Hudson called last night, but I ignored the phone. She called three times, actually. And then once more this morning. I'm avoiding her like the coward I am because I don't know what else to say. A part of me feels as if I didn't react enough to the news, and the other part feels as if I overreacted. She's young, she's been through a lot lately, and there is plenty about her that is a mystery. This could all be a false alarm, and I don't want to walk away from it looking like a fool. And I don't want to make promises that I'll just break again. I should have been more careful, I should have…

Hindsight is fucking useless.

I stop short in the hospital corridor, my internal thoughts fleeing at the sight of Jonathan Kent pacing worriedly beside the vending machines. For a moment, I feel pure panic at the idea that Hudson gave up on me, told her parents what happened, and they promptly brought her to the hospital for an examination. But I don't see Martha anywhere, and Jonathan appears more concerned to me, than angry.

"Mr. Kent," I greet as I approach him. "Is everything all right?"

He glances up, and for a moment he seems to not even recognize me. Finally a familiar frown crosses his face. "Uh… yeah, Lex. I mean, no. That is, Martha's sick. We brought her in this morning."

"What's wrong?" I ask immediately, prepared to offer anything they might need – be it money for the medical expenses or specialists to treat her.

"We don't know." He shakes his head, glancing down the hallway. "Helen is… she's working on it."

I nod, remembering the last time I offered to fly in specialists to take over for work Helen was doing. I refrain from making the offer. "She's a good doctor, Mr. Kent. If anyone can figure out what's wrong with your wife, she can." Looking around, I can't stop myself from asking, "Where's Hudson?"

"I… sent her home. Her mother was working on the fundraiser and… " Jonathan trails off, sighing. "She wouldn't want Hudson spending her time here, worrying."

"It's probably for the best," I reply automatically, though I find myself wishing I could go to her. Certainly she has enough on her mind at the moment without having to worry about her mother as well.

Jonathan turns away from me, walking up to one of the vending machines and slipping in a few quarter for a can of iced tea. Removing it from the slot, he starts past me before stopping suddenly, as if having forgotten I was there. "I, uh, need to get back to my wife, Lex. I'm sorry."

Shaking my head, I force a hopeful smile. "I understand, Mr. Kent. I'm sure everything will be fine."

He nods quickly before continuing back down the hall toward the ICU.

I don't know if I should consider myself lucky that Hudson won't be telling her parents about her possible pregnancy or not.

Pushing the thoughts aside, I concentrate on the pleasant thought of spending some time with Helen as I continue toward her office. The door is slightly ajar and I watch her for a moment as she works at her desk, looking through a pile of folders. Helen's a beautiful woman, with dark, exotic looks that would send any man to his knees. She has an incredibly sweet smile, and luxurious hair that's almost as soft as Hudson's to touch. I enjoy our conversations best of all; she's very bright, and has had a thorough education. Being raised in the same environment as me with a rich father who had her future planned long before she was walking, I think she understands me as well as anyone since… well, since Victoria. But unlike Victoria, Helen hasn't been tainted by that. She's fought so hard to be her own person, to not be shoe-horned into the life expected of her, and I can't help but admire that. She's an example to me; the person I one day want to be. It just might be too late for me to get that chance now that I've apparently fucked it all up due to a one-night slip with Hudson.

I knock softly, offering Helen a smile as I enter her office. "I saw Mr. Kent in the hall," I tell her as I take a seat in the chair in front of her desk. He didn't tell me much, so maybe she will. Anything to ease my mind regarding everything going on with Hudson. "He looked worried. Is everything all right?"

"We're doing everything we can."

It's all she offers, and I know that means I'm supposed to drop the subject. Helen's very dedicated to her oath as a doctor. It's better that I don't push for the time being.

Nodding slightly in silent acceptance of her reply, my gaze falls to the desk where I spy letterhead from Johns Hopkins. The missive is addressed to Helen. For lack of anything else to say that doesn't begin with 'Hey, guess what? My sixteen-year old ex-girlfriend might be pregnant with my child!', I instead comment, "Johns Hopkins. Good school."

Helen smiled a little and lifts the letter out from under the pile of papers it's tucked beneath. She hands it over to me. "Go ahead. Read it."

Curious, I take it from her, wondering what the mystery is. I glance over the words, surprised at their content. I knew Helen was a good doctor, but I'd never known she had any interest in research. At least, it was something she'd never mentioned to me.

"They're offering you a 3-year research fellowship," I comment, raising my eyebrows as I glance over at her. "I'm impressed."

"It's an opportunity to do pure research at one of the best hospitals in the country," she responds with a smile, though her brow furrows slightly as she says it.

"As opposed to the rural pleasures of Smallville Medical?" I can't help but tease.

I've never understood why a woman of her talent and connections would be practicing medicine here but I suppose I'm jaded in my belief that no one in this world really does anything without money being their main motivator. I know it's a handicap beaten in to me by my father, and one I wish I could rid myself of. It's already endangered my relationship once with Helen when I first questioned her as to both her work and her interest in me. It's a mistake I won't make again.

"Lex, I like my work here," she tells me with another smile. "But research has always been my first love."

Again, I wonder why she's never mentioned it before but, when I think about it, I realize I've never really asked. Little of our time together has been spent discussing our professional lives. I think we both prefer to leave those at the office, and just enjoy one another's company. Helen is an escape for me. And I'm sure that someday I'll hate myself for that.

"So... What do you think?"

I glance up at her, wondering what she means by the question. Of course, she'd be foolish to let this pass her by. I know all about missed opportunities; truckloads of opportunities have sped past Hudson and me. "Trust me," I begin, hoping that I'm giving her the right advice. "There's nothing worse than a missed opportunity."

I should know.

A knock interrupts us, and I glance over my shoulder to see a man wearing a CDC jacket, peering into the office. "Dr. Bryce?" He interrupts. "I'm Dr. Neil Moore. We're here about Martha Kent."

Apparently we won't be having lunch.

I get to my feet and give Helen a quick smile of understanding. "I'll let you get back to work."

She returns my smile before I slip through the door and head back into the hall. Almost immediately, my thoughts return to Hudson, and her visit the day before.

------------------

I move up the steps of the front porch of the Kent house, staring at the door with unfamiliar feelings of trepidation. A part of me wants to run away; I don't want to face any of this. But then, I've never really dealt with a situation like this before, at least not when I was so close to it, when it could mean so much to me. I still haven't sorted through my feelings and now Hudson is sick, and no one will tell me what's wrong with her. Helen is being silent, citing doctor/patient confidentiality, even though she is responsible for both Hudson and Martha. She won't even explain to me why Hudson is still at home, when she should obviously be at the hospital like her mother. Of course, my own suspicions tell me why Jonathan won't allow his daughter to be subjected to medical care. But if Helen isn't pushing for them to hospitalize her then… well, that could mean she knows the truth. That she was told the truth. And that's something I can't accept.

Sucking in a breath of frustration, I reach out and ring the doorbell before pulling my coat around my body a little more tightly, to stave off the early Spring chill in the air. I glance up as Jonathan opens the door, and I'm shocked at how haggard he looks. He's usually such a strong man, vigorous and healthy in appearance. But today he looks exhausted, his skin too pale, eyes too dark. I fear the man could pass out at any moment into a deep sleep.

"Hello, Mr. Kent," I greet with a slight smile. "I'm sorry to bother you but Helen told me what happened. Is Hudson all right?"

Jonathan runs a hand over his face. I can tell he doesn't want me there, but maybe he's too tired to slam the door in my face. "Uh, yeah. She's… um, she's just resting on the… on the couch. I'll be sure and tell her you stopped by to say hello."

"Actually, I'm sorry. I don't mean to behave like a door-to-door salesman, but I was wondering if I could just sit with her for a while," I ask, not really holding out any hope that he'll say yes.

He pauses for a moment, glancing back into the house toward the front room. Finally, his shoulders slump slightly, as if in defeat. "Uh… yeah. Yes. Lex, I'm sorry… uh, sure. Come on in." He steps back into the hall, allowing me entrance. "I'll… I'll just be upstairs."

I wish I could say something that might ease his mind and heart, but there's just too much history between his daughter and me for there to be any comfort in any words I might offer. "All right. Thank you."

I watch as Jonathan heads up the stairs, disappearing out of sight. Glancing toward the front room, I see Hudson stretched out on the couch, an old quilt covering her. It's difficult not to remember countless nights cuddled up on that couch with her, while her parents were out late; innocently holding hands as her father watched us with an Eagle eye more than the football game on TV. It was where we've worked on popcorn strings together, battled one another at the game of 'Life' and fell asleep in one another's arms to the History channel. And now she's laying there, unconscious, horribly sick, instead of grinning up at me with her bright smile, or flashing me a pretty pout because I haven't been by to visit in a while.

And I don't know why or how this has happened.

Eliciting a slight sigh, I make my way over to the rocking chair positioned beside the couch and sit down. I reach out to touch her hand, tracing my fingers over the shape of her delicate bones. At your first sight of Hudson, you can only be amazed by how tiny she is; she seems almost fragile. While she may be tall and fit, her frame is very small, her bones petite. It was one of the things that had shocked me so much when I realized she had pulled me from the river, and saved my life.

"Hello, Angel," I whisper, moving my fingers to touch her cheek. "I would have been over sooner, if I'd known. I… "

I've been hiding away from her, terrified over the possibility of her pregnancy. I'd made an appointment for her, so we could go together to find out if her fears had any founding, but then Martha fell ill, and Hudson never returned my call. She may be avoiding me as well, perhaps hoping that if we never mention it again, it will simply go away. Teenagers tend to do things like that; I know I did. Unfortunately, if she is pregnant, it won't just go away. And we won't be able to hide it. Not from her parents, and not from Helen.

"I've never seen you sick before," I whisper, threading my fingers through hers. "Seeing you like this is… unsettling. Helen says no one knows what it is, and I can tell she's worried. She's a good doctor, Hudson. And I know she's doing everything she can for your mother… and for you, too. But I wish… I know there's something more I could do for you, if you were ever just honest with me. Now more than ever, you need me. And I can't help you."

I sigh in frustration, eyes moving away from her face to drift over the quilt. I reach out and lay my hand over her belly, holding it there for a moment, imaging a future that isn't meant for me. I wanted to tell Helen, to warn her that there was more to concern herself with regarding Hudson's health. But I was too weak, too afraid. I couldn't bring myself to do it. She's been so good to me, so understanding, so patient. If I were to admit what happened between us during my stay at the Kents, I could ruin everything. Especially if the pregnancy isn't real. Of course, it may all be out of my hands anyway. Helen seems excited about the fellowship at Johns Hopkins, and may choose to leave me to follow her dreams. Hudson could very well be carrying my child; and then my desire to have Helen in my life won't matter anyway. Our future will be set.

"I don't know what I want anymore, Angel," I continue softly, rubbing my hand over her stomach. "I know what I don't deserve, and I know what I long for, and I know what I'm probably going to get. But I don't know what I want."

Straightening, I bring my gaze back to her face. Her cheeks are bright with her fever, with circles under her eyes that shouldn't be there. She's still far more beautiful than she should be. It's inhuman.

I shake my head at the thought and brush my fingers through the strands of hair framing her face. "I'm here because… well, I owe you an apology, Hudson. A dozen apologies for some many things. I'm still angry with you. Some days I hate you for the lies, for the hurt you've caused me. I trusted you, I believed in you. I still do. But… it's not your fault. I knew you were young; I knew I was your first experience in love. I should have fought a little harder, and I should have pushed you away while I still had the chance to do so.

"But I was weak, Hudson. From the moment I woke up on the riverbank and looked up into your beautiful face, I became weak. I wanted things I can't have. I wanted you. You reminded me of hope and goodness and love and all of the things I haven't felt in so long. And I should have known not to trust that; I shouldn't have made myself so vulnerable. I ran headlong into this relationship, and every ounce of hurt and disappointment that I'm feeling… is my own fault. I know…"

I pause and take her hand in mine, petting her fingers tenderly. "I know who I am, Hudson. I know where I come from, who my father is. I understand that you have no reason to trust me. Hell, I wouldn't trust me either. But then, I told you that at the beginning, didn't I?"

I turn my eyes back to her face. This is easier because she isn't awake. I don't have to answer questions or argue points; nothing is expected of me.

"I knew we wouldn't last, Angel. I knew that what we had was too good to be true. You're… meant for far greater and brighter things than I have to offer. All I can hope to do is find someone who will love me, trust me, and teach me to trust myself." I feel a half-smile cross my face. "And maybe, someday, I'll be worthy of at least your trust. Maybe someday we can find that friendship again that I know we were meant to have… if only I were a little bit stronger and more deserving."

She stirs slightly in her sleep, mumbling softly. I lean closer to her, listening. "Lex… " Her body stills as unconsciousness seems to consume her once more.

I'm tempted to let her know that I'm here, to promise that I'll take care of her. But I can't give in to that. I need to make a decision about the baby. I need to make a decision in case there is no baby. I need… to be far away from here.

I want to kiss her, but I can't even allow myself that much. Instead, I force myself to my feet and toward the door. I don't look back; I can't look back. She's either my future or my past. And, at the moment, I can barely handle my present.

----------------------------------

It's for the best.

Those are the words that keep chanting in my mind as I stare across the desk at Hudson. She's standing there, looking healthy and strong and perfect once more, and she seems so relieved that I almost want to laugh. Relieved because she isn't pregnant, because her future is bright once more, because she isn't carrying Lex Luthor's child.

I don't know where this bitterness is coming from. I know that relief for her isn't the case; Hudson probably wishes it were true, that she was going to have my baby, that we would soon be playing house together. But inside I'm laughing with the knowledge that I always knew it would never be possible. That it's a life I'm not meant for; a life of happiness that I have to work for, that certainly isn't going to be handed to me in a silver platter. Especially since that life will never include Hudson Kent.

It can't include her.

"It may have been a false alarm, like you said," she tells me softly. "Or, well, it could have been my sickness. Dad said I had a really high fever."

"You did," I agree. "You and your mother were both very ill. And now… well, now you're all better, aren't you?"

More bitterness. I try not to hate the fact that no one will clue me in on this 'miracle' that occurred to instantly cured both Hudson and her mother. Helen chalks it up to something that science will never be able to explain, but I know she's hiding something. She'd been treating both Hudson and Martha; she had information on them that left her silent and contemplative the other evening at dinner. In the file I secured from Dr. Trenton, Helen's notes mentioned that she drew blood from Hudson but the notes ended there. The lack of an official file on her leaves me with even more questions. I don't blame Helen for her silence; she's dedicated to her job and that's something to be admired. But I'm sick of the Kents' silence, and I'm sick of being regarded as an outsider, as someone who can't be trusted with their secrets.

I'm sick of my emotions for Hudson being bandied about so carelessly.

Hudson shifts under my gaze uncomfortably before flashing me a slight smile. "I… can't believe how scared I was. I mean, I've never contemplated being a mother before, you know? I can't even imagine it. I can barely take care of myself let alone someone else."

"Really? I would think you'd be a natural at it."

At her look of confusion, I clarify, "You're always taking care of everyone around you, Hudson. You've saved half this town by now, I'm sure."

She laughs, the tone too high-pitched with nervousness. "That's an exaggeration, Lex. Besides, it's not really the same thing as caring for a baby, now is it?"

I glance down at my hands, not answering.

"I'm sorry… for panicking and pulling you into this and everything, I mean," she tells me. "It was stupid of me. I was stupid."

"We both were." I raise my eyes back to hers. "You're not the one solely at fault here, Hudson."

She looks ready to argue that but seems to rethink it, and instead falls silent. I know that she probably believes what has occurred over the last week should bring us closer together, and under normal circumstances, I may have allowed it to do so. But whatever exists between the two of us isn't normal. When I ended it between us, I told Hudson I didn't like the person I was becoming with her, and I mean that now more than ever. When I thought she might be carrying my child, I wanted nothing more than a life that I'm not meant for. I found myself hoping for a large, loving family, to know what it's like to go home to the Kent farm for the holidays, to have Hudson sleeping beside me each and every night, our children safe in their rooms down the hall. Hell, I was even imaging white picket fences and a cat named Fluffy.

And when Hudson was sick, when she was laying there before me, unconscious and unmoving and there was nothing I could do, I felt far too hopeless. I didn't want to lose her, I didn't want to lose the dream of having a baby together. I found myself wanting to mend the chasm between us, to assure her that I didn't need to know her secrets as long as she promised to love me and spend the rest of her life at my side. But I have to ask myself, how long would that have lasted? How long until I would have reverted back to my old ways, wanting to know more about her than she was willing to share? And how long would it be before we hated one another for it?

Whatever might have been, it ends now. If I don't do something, if I don't force Hudson to see that it is really and truly over between us, then I might slip again. I might give in to temptation, and ruin her life once and for all. I came so close to destroying everything. I can't allow it to happen again.

"Well, I guess I'd better get home," Hudson comments quietly, disturbing the silence. "Mom's still not very strong, so I need to help dad with dinner."

She turns to go and I don't stop myself from calling out to her. "Hudson?"

"Yeah?" She spins around, looking at me all hope and beauty and light.

I'm a fucking bastard.

"I wanted to ask your opinion."

I pause, reaching in to my pocket to withdraw the loose key to the mansion and hold it in my hand. It's cold to the touch, and heavy against my palm. I stare at it, knowing that once I take this step, there is no going back. But I need to let go, and so does Hudson.

"Do you think, if I asked her, that Helen would move in with me?"

And that you will, one day, forgive me?