Robert Sullivan's apartment was suffocating him and he knew it. It had been months since he had allowed himself to breathe, or to think about what his life had become over the last year. He looked around the empty space, littered with small messes he'd neglected to clean because he was the only one here and it did not matter. Nothing mattered here right now, not when he was fighting for his life every single day.

He sighed, placing his head in his hands so that he did not have to look at the picture on the nightstand. Every time he glanced at the photo, it broke his heart. This was not how things were supposed to be right now. He was not supposed to be doing this. He should be with his wife. He forced himself to look at the picture. Staring back at him was a beautiful woman in a blush pink dress, her makeup impeccable and hair was drawn back into an elegant updo, tears, and love shining in her eyes as she held onto him. She held him as though letting him go would unravel her and she would fall apart. That had been months agoHom when they were happy and. . . He paused for a breath as his eyes fell on the other man in the photo, his sunken features betraying an illness that would have robbed them of sharing the joys of their union if he had not beat it to the punch.

God, how he missed Andy. He wanted to hold her, to tell her that it was all going to be okay. He wanted to say that he loved her and they were going to make her father proud and honor the legacy he had left behind. Robert's self-imposed exile was only temporary. He had to get better for himself and for Andy. He hated himself for being an addict, for letting the disease get the better of him and tearing him away from the woman he loved who needed him.

He hated that people judged him because she had been his subordinate. He knew the whispers; how they thought he had manipulated her into sleeping with him. That was not what had happened; Andy had vouched for it time and again. She had chosen to get involved with him. They had weathered storms before and they would get through this one too. But he could not leave her. The bottom had nearly fallen out when someone told him that he wasn't thinking clearly when he had fallen in love with her; that he was irrational and taking advantage when he asked her to become his wife. They thought that the moment he had professed to love her was a thinly veiled attempt at manipulation. But it wasn't that easy.

Andy had been his salvation, the person that made him want to get better. His world had gone dark before her. She had become the one person who gave him a reason to try again and made him feel like he mattered. Now, he wanted her here. He knew why she couldn't be. He had to do this on his own. He had chosen to love her when he was sick. It could have been the drugs. If they stayed together before he got the help he needed, everything would fall apart. He wanted to care about that, wanted to put her above himself, and say that he had finally made a better choice for once in his life. But there was only one problem.

She was his home. Not this place with empty walls and orderly chaos. It was missing her warmth and love; the way she encircled her arms around him as they slept and pulled him closer, the scent of her hair and her perfume. He had given her up for the sake of his sobriety, and that advice had been given to him by someone who had been through it all before. But she had made him a better person, and he could not last without her. This was not what his father in law would have wanted.

Pruitt Hererra had not hacked his way through an unstable roof to save their lives so that they could live apart like this. Maybe he should consult someone before making this decision; call Richard or Amelia and let them tell him that he was being a fool. Maybe they would say that he was the only thing keeping himself from his wife, from his home. Maybe he needed some kind of a sign. That was when the phone rang. He checked the number, and his heart dropped. It took him a moment to collect himself before he could answer. When he did, the voice on the other end was teary.

"Robert. I'm sorry. I know we said this was better, but I need—."

"Andy? Are you okay, baby? You sound upset, what's wrong?"

"I need you to come home for Christmas. It's—It's a long story, but I can explain if you give me the time. I have some people I need you to meet." He couldn't help feeling just a little inadequate. She deserved so much better than him and this broken shell that he had become when the drugs took over. That was the other reason he needed to get better; she needed him. The family they were meant to be needed him to get better.

"I'll be right there." Robert knew he did not have the time to say anything more. He was not about to abandon the woman he loved when she needed him most, even if he was a mess. He owed her that much. He was going home, to the woman he loved who needed him. No one cared if it was risky, because she meant more to him than anything else.

If only Robert had known exactly what he was getting into. But he also knew that whatever was wrong, he would love her through it. He intended to keep his promise. For better or worse. Right now, they were going through the worst, but it would get better one day.