Chapter Twenty Four

No matter how utterly exhausted he was, he couldn't sleep. So he lay there holding Maureen, listening to the sound of her breathing, grateful she was able to find some peace at last. There was too much on his mind to really give in to slumber, and even though he was acting all cool and brave earlier, he found he could barely let it all go himself. He couldn't believe it was happening to them. Andy, of all people, Maureen's ex-husband? Would he lose her and Libby, too? Because if Andy was HIV positive –

Don't, he scolded himself. Don't think about it. But it was easier said than done. His thoughts were all drifting in the same wretched direction, and he found himself helpless against it. He glanced at Maureen, who was clinging to him in her sleep, her fingers clawing his tee shirt. She'd become so incredibly fragile ever since this nightmare had started, in a way that was so unlike her. She looked so beautiful the night before. It almost felt like another life now. They didn't even get a chance to dance together.

God, he couldn't do this. He couldn't pretend everything was okay when it wasn't. He didn't want to lose her like he'd lost the others. Not her. Not so soon after he won her back. He felt empty, drained, like there were no tears left inside of him. He wanted to stomp his feet like a kid in the middle of a temper tantrum, yelling to anyone who would listen; This was not fair. This was not fair.

He had no idea what time it was when he entangled himself from Maureen. He was reluctant to wake her, but he was desperate for the bathroom. After making sure she was still sleeping, he took her phone from her bedside, and shut the door on his way out of the bedroom.

Although it felt as if forever had passed, it was barely three. He ventured into the kitchen and made himself a sandwich, making sure he had ingredients for dinner in case Maureen's parents would want to stay over. He scrolled through his messages as he ate, and texted Tammy he wasn't feeling well, as an explanation for why he hadn't replied to any of her texts. Then, somewhat warily, he opened Oliver's message. When he texted him that morning, he kept his message as vague as possible, not wishing to give the impression that something was amiss, but it turned out Oliver also hadn't heard from Andy since he'd left the benefit so abruptly the night before.

He glanced over his shoulder, but there was still no sound from the bedroom, and so he brought his attention back to his phone. The last message from Andy was two days old, about seeing each other at the benefit. In hindsight, how naive it read, as if it wouldn't be the night that changed everything forever. His fingers were shaking as they hovered over the keys, but even if he did muster the courage to write him something, where would he even begin?

He walked into his study, leaving the door half open in case Maureen woke up and wondered where he was, and stared at the paperwork on his desk. He was too distressed and sleep-deprived to really do some work. He would have to get a grip at some point. There was no way he could act like a zombie until they got the results back. He curled onto the sofa and closed his eyes.

"I can't believe you're marrying her."

His eyes snapped open at the familiar voice. He sat up so abruptly it made his head spin. He blinked, but Collins was still sitting on his chair with his legs propped up on his desk, his face radiant with that broad grin of his.

"How..."

"Of course, it's never too late to say I told you so. But I did, didn't I? Even when you were ready to give up on her. I knew she was the one." Then he stopped, giving him a closer look. "Are you okay, Mark? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

For a second he was unable to manage anything but a chuckle. "What's going on here?" he asked eventually, all too aware of the tremble in his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"Umm... you're dead, Collins. You died five years ago."

Collins seemed unfazed by the statement. Rather, he burst into a hearty laughter. He glanced at the door instinctively, stupidly fearing the sound would wake Maureen. "You even have the same answers! That's amazing. And adorable. Really, what took you so long?"

"I wish you guys were here," he found himself say candidly, as if there was even a hint of a chance that this was not all in his head. "I could really use your support just now."

"We're always around, Mark. We're all rooting for you."

"It's not the same."

"It's not. But that's life."

"Am I going to lose them, Collins?"

"Not if I can help it, Cohen. Now, before I go, I just wanted to tell you…"

He jolted awake, gasping for air. He looked around his study, which was dark and empty, of course. He buried his head between his palms, forcing himself to get a grip, when another knock came at the door. Realizing that was the thing that woke him up in the first place, he stretched his arms over his head for just a second, then left the room to get the door while running his hand through his hopelessly tousled hair.

Libby all but launched herself at him as soon as the door was wide enough for her to get through. He staggered a bit while picking her up, still disoriented from sleep, but held her close, drawing comfort by her nearness. "Hi, sweetheart. Did you have a good weekend?"

"The bestest," she beamed at him, and he felt more tears well up at the way she smiled so obliviously at him. Over her shoulder, Maureen's parents looked like they'd aged a hundred years since he'd last seen him, probably as a result of his correspondence with Elizabeth earlier in the day. He knew they grew close since Maureen had moved West, and how much they'd helped her during the divorce and those first few months of motherhood. He could only imagine how shaken they were by the whole thing.

"Come on in," he said, and put Libby down. She was looking around, and before she could ask it, he said, "Mommy is sleeping, but you can come in and say hi if you want." He noticed Elizabeth flinch at the mention of her daughter. Richard lay a hand on her shoulder. He could see the mounting questions on their faces. No one seemed to want to do this while in Libby's earshot.

"Can I?"

"I'm sure she'll love it, darling," managed Elizabeth. "Go ahead."

As soon as Libby disappeared down the hall, she keeled over, and released a shaky breath as if she'd been holding back all morning.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you. I only need a moment."

"It's a relief to be here," said Richard as the three of them sat down. "We're still trying to wrap our heads around it."

"Yeah, tell me about it," he chuckled humorlessly.

"When will you get the results?"

"During next week. We'll get Libby tested first thing tomorrow."

"And they think… I mean, is it possible…"

"It can go either way, really." He didn't want to beat around the bush or sugarcoat it. They deserved an honest account, heartbreaking as it was.

"This is unbelievable," said Richard, shaking his head. "Did he speak to her?"

"I left them alone for maybe ten minutes. I didn't know – Maureen didn't tell me all that much about him. I don't know what's been said exactly."

"It must have been a shock for you, finding out like that," said Elizabeth, and her sympathetic tone was the complete opposite of his mother he nearly burst into tears. "We're both so glad you're here for them. They're lucky to have you."

"I'm the one who's lucky," he protested, his heart breaking all over again. Before any of them could say more, Libby came back to the living room with Maureen right behind her, barefoot and smiling wearily.

"Hi, guys," she told her parents, and the effort behind her cheerful air was palpable. She all but fell into her father's arms as he stood up and walked over to give her a hug. He noticed her shoulders shaking as she silently cried into his chest.

"Come on, sweetheart, help me make dinner, okay?" he told Libby, quickly steering her towards the kitchen to allow them a few moments alone.

"I don't know how you're doing this," she told him later. Her parents left soon after dinner, Libby was in bed, and they were curled against one another on the balcony with a bottle of red wine he felt they more than deserved. "I just feel like screaming all the time."

"Then I'm a better actor than you ever thought because the truth is I'm freaking out inside."

"My parents said you were handling this admirably," she punctuated the last word with a lilt of her mother's accent, which made him smile despite their grim circumstances. And then he remembered what he'd wanted to tell her.

"Before they arrived, I must have fallen asleep in my study. I had the craziest dream."

"Oh?"

"Collins was in my study, and we had this conversation... Like, I know it wasn't real, but it felt... What?" He stopped as he realized she was gaping at him.

"On my last day at work in San Francisco, I dreamed I was having coffee with Collins at the Public Library, and then he was with me in the meeting where I passed out." She chuckled, probably at his own dumbfounded expression. "I never told you because I thought you'd think I was losing it. I thought I was losing it."

"What do you think it means?"

"Well, he was trying to tell me something."

"He was trying to tell me something too!"

"Have you got a seance board? Maybe if we're drunk enough," she grinned impishly at him. It was nice to be able to find a hint of humor in that hellish day. "I know one thing for sure though." Her eyes were gleaming in response to his enquiring look. "We're going to need a lot more wine until we get those results."

Despite their attempts to beat rush hour the following morning, the subway was already packed when they boarded the train downtown shortly after seven. Maureen was squeezed into a corner seat with Libby sitting on her knees, and he was leaning against the train car's wall across from them. He knew he should probably stop staring at them, for someone was bound to think he was some stalker soon enough, but found himself unable to. Then, as if sensing his eyes on them, Maureen looked up and grinned at him. Libby, her eyes following her mother, did too, and he found himself grinning back. He remembered Collins' reassurances of the day before. We're all rooting for you. It was hardly comforting at the moment, though.

Noah was already at the clinic when they arrived. Libby, as if sensing the enormity of it all, didn't leave his side from the moment they walked through the door, no matter how much he was trying to reassure her. Noah was wonderful with her, and was even able to elicit a giggle or two out of her as he explained the procedure to her as if she were an adult. However, as soon as the nurse approached her, she seemed terrified again, and her bottom lip was visibly trembling. Maureen stepped forward, kneeling next to her daughter and whispering something in her ear. He couldn't make out what was said, and yet he found himself watching the two of them, mesmerized yet again. Eventually Libby relented, and Maureen wrapped an arm around her, holding her close as the nurse came closer.

He looked away. He couldn't watch. He only heard her whimper once; probably as the needle pierced the skin. Then he heard Maureen's soft murmur, distracting her again. Noah was asking her about her school, and she was surprisingly responsive. When it was finally done, he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

After dropping off Libby at school, he rushed to the gallery even though he was dreading it. He knew he would have to face Tammy and tell her what was going on, but wasn't sure how. He'd managed to avoid her all day yesterday, claiming he wasn't feeling well, but now he would have nowhere to hide.

She waved at him through the front window, smiling obliviously, and he raised his arm in an obligatory wave back, but by the time he walked in, her smile was all gone, and she was observing him closely. "What's wrong?"

"Hi, sorry I'm late."

Of course, it was ridiculous to hope she would be sidetracked by the apology. "You said you weren't feeling well yesterday and I haven't heard from you all day. Are you okay? Has someone died? Oh my God, did something happen to your mom?"

"No, just... lock the door and come in my office. I need to talk to you."

She quickly did as he asked and followed him to the office in the back. He took his time putting aside his messenger bag and removing his jacket, turning on his computer. All the while Tammy was standing here, looking at him with scrutiny.

"You're freaking me out, man. What is it?"

"I... Sorry, I don't know where to begin."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. No. Sort of. Sit down." She did, not taking her eyes off him. And still, he was stalling.

"How was the benefit?" she asked, as if thinking the change of topics would encourage him to speak. Unfortunately for her, it was the wrong topic to choose.

"Remember the guy I brought here a few months back? The one I told you about from Life, who was HIV positive?"

"Yeah, vaguely."

"Funny story," he said, attempting a smile, but he could actually feel the tears in the corner of his eyes, his throat tightening, his face beginning to crumble.

"Oh my God, Mark, what?" she asked, grabbing his hand before he had a chance to pull it away.

Properly sobbing now, in broken sentences, he somehow managed to let the entire story unfold. By the time he was done he was a mess of snot and tears, gasping for air, and she was kneeling next to his seat with her arms wrapped around him the best she could, reassuming her position as his bereavement counselor with impressive speed. "I'm sorry," he managed, feeling pathetic for his outburst. But he had been holding back for so long it was pretty much bound to happen.

"Don't be stupid," she said, reminding him with those three words that she was not his bereavement counselor but his best friend. "Go get cleaned up. I'll get you some water. Then we'll talk."

By the time she returned he washed his face in the adjacent bathroom, avoiding the mirror with all his might. He took a tiny sip from the glass she handed him. She raised an eyebrow, and he took a longer sip obediently without her having to ask.

"You got tested yesterday?"

He nodded. "And we got Libby tested this morning. That's why I was late."

"How soon..."

"I don't know. A few days, at least. I just needed to tell you because I don't think I'll be able to do anything right until we know. And knowing you, you'll notice."

"You needed to tell me regardless, there's no reason for you to bear this burden all by yourself. Look at you, a wreck after just one day."

"I just... can't do this. Not again. I can't lose them."

"And you won't. Let's not get ahead of ourselves here, okay? Did you try to contact him? Anyone else in Life?"

"I know I should probably try to contact him, but I can't bring myself to. Oliver has not heard from him, and all his calls went straight to voicemail. But he doesn't know the whole story, no one in Life does."

"Telling them might help find him."

"I don't see how. Besides, it's not my story to tell."

"Do you really think Maureen will mind if it helps you get to the truth?"

"Probably not," he admitted. "I honestly doubt we will find him."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Pray, he instinctively wanted to say, although neither of them was a great believer in the powers that be. But then he knew how she could help. "Come have dinner with us tonight." If him and Maureen were bound to be lousy company for the next few days, he wanted to keep Libby as happy and oblivious as he possibly could.

"You got it," she smiled at him, then reached for his hand again and gave it a little squeeze. "We've been through this before, you and I. We got this."

"We got this," he echoed, with much less conviction, but there was some comfort in sharing.

After a blessedly busy day, he left early to get Libby from school, and Tammy arrived at five thirty, armed with provisions to make fudge, much to Libby's delight. Not half an hour later, Maureen arrived. A young Latina followed her inside, and he knew this must be Arianna, her assistant. She looked exactly like he'd pictured her, down to her Tinker Bell tattoo on the side of her neck below her right ear.

"Hi, guys," said Maureen, obviously not expecting the commotion. Her expression was a mix of gratitude and exhaustion. "What's going on here?"

"We're making fudge!" announced Libby, clinging to Tammy's side and eager to begin.

"Are you, really? Hi, Tammy, it's good to see you." Tammy waved from across the room, rooted to place by Libby. "This is Arianna, my assistant. Arianna, this is my fiancé Mark, our friend Tammy, and this rascal who prefers fudge over greeting her mother is apparently my daughter, Libby."

Libby giggled at the introduction and rushed to give Maureen a hug hello.

"Nice to meet you, everyone," said Arianna, then leaned towards Libby, smiling warmly. "Hola, chiquita, I heard so much about you."

"This is pretty," said Libby, fascinated by Arianna's tattoo. She was usually wary of strangers, but having Tammy there had put her at ease. "Did it hurt?"

Feeling it was safe to leave Libby with Arianna, Maureen walked over to him and Tammy. It was such a relief to see her smiling properly after the weekend they'd just had.

"Looks like we had the same idea," he told her. "I asked Tammy to have dinner with us."

"Great minds and all that," she replied. "Are you cooking or do you want to order something in?"

"No, I'll figure something out while Tammy is wrecking our kitchen with that fudge," he said, ducking just in time as Tammy was about to smack him.

"Is it okay if Arianna and I use your study? We've got some work to do."

"Of course. Do you guys want some coffee or something?"

"Arianna, coffee?"

"I never refuse coffee, thanks," said Arianna, then gave him such a look he could feel himself beginning to blush. "Don't think you're off the hook, Mr. Fiancé. I've heard quite a lot about you as well."

"You can interrogate him after we're done. Come on, this way. Save us some fudge!"

Honestly, he was dreading today, but it turned out pretty great. Arianna obviously knew what was going on as well because along with Tammy, she went out of her way to make Libby laugh, and tried to teach her songs in Spanish. He was amazed by how friendly she was – she'd hit it off with everyone even though it was her first time meeting them. He'd always envied people like that. Of course, at some point they realized he was outnumbered, being the only guy at the dinner table, and more teasing ensued, but he didn't mind. He felt strangely optimistic. The next few days would be a breeze with friends like those.

He arrived at the Life meeting with trepidation the next day. He honestly wasn't sure which option he preferred – for Andy to be sitting there as if nothing had happened, or his absence. In his head he was having imaginary conversations with Andy pretty much from the moment of revelation – those honest conversations that only happened in your head, because you never remembered (or dared) saying it all face to face. He doubted he would confront Andy, even if he was there at the meeting. Knowing him he would find himself groveling, even though he had absolutely nothing to apologize for. His heart was pounding as he rushed, inevitably late again, down the hall, part from effort, part with nerves.

He felt his anticipation deflate as he finally walked inside the room – Andy was nowhere to be seen. He nodded in apology in Oliver's direction and found a seat in the back. For once, Oliver did not make a fuss about him being late, and just continued telling everyone how successful the benefit was. Seeing as they were all distracted, he pulled out his cellphone, knowing Maureen would be waiting.

He's not here, he texted her, and slipped his phone back to the front pocket of his bag. It vibrated a second later with her reply.

I knew it.

He didn't want her to worry about it. She had a dress rehearsal the following day, and she should really keep her focus on that. He tried to keep that off his mind as he turned his attention back to Oliver. As the meeting drew to a close, he waited for everyone else to disperse before approaching him.

"Mark, is everything okay? I saw you were hiding back there."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"You look like you haven't slept in days. What's up?"

"You haven't heard from Andy by any chance, have you?"

"Oh, actually I meant to call you about that. Apparently he had to leave town quite suddenly. He talked to Jesse on Sunday."

"Any idea when he's coming back?" Or if?

"I don't think he told Jesse. What is this all about?"

Thankfully having told this to Tammy the previous day, it didn't feel as enormous now; he was beginning to get used to it. He felt much more composed, despite the expression of shock gradually forming on Oliver's face.

"Oh, Mark, I'm so sorry. How is Maureen taking it?"

"In a stride, really. We're both trying to keep everything as normal as possible for her daughter."

"If there's anything I can do – "

"If you hear from him let me know."

"Of course. Whatever you need. And keep me posted, please."

He was alone in bed on Thursday morning, jolting awake by his alarm. Maureen's dress rehearsal ran longer than expected the previous night – she texted to let him know. But her side of the bed seemed unslept in, which seemed odd. After getting dressed in a haze, he peeked inside Libby's room. He could let her sleep for a bit longer while he started on breakfast. Upon walking into the living room he halted, for there was Maureen, curled on the sofa fast asleep. Her laptop was open on the coffee table, its screen dark, next to an empty mug, and notes were strewn across the table. She wasn't wearing yesterday's clothes, which was something, but it seemed she'd been there all night.

He knelt by the sofa and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Hey," he whispered, not wishing to startle her. Slowly, her eyes opened. She murmured something unintelligible as she sat up, looking around her disoriented.

"I only closed my eyes for a second," she moaned, scooting a bit to let him sit next to her. She lay back down, placing her head in his lap. He threaded his fingers through her hair soothingly.

"How was your dress rehearsal?"

"Good. Great, actually. Apparently I work well under stress. I was working on some issues we came across. I guess I blacked out at some point. Is Libby still sleeping?"

"Yeah, I'll wake her up in a bit."

"Okay," she said through a yawn, and his heart went out to her. She looked as exhausted as he felt.

"Have you got an early morning?"

"My first meeting isn't until noon."

"Then why don't you go back to bed for a while?" She looked up at him, her eyebrow raised dubiously. "There's absolutely nothing you can say against it."

"I'm too tired to argue with you." She sat up again, looked at the mess across the table with something like helplessness in her eyes.

"Leave it. Just go to bed. I won't touch anything."

She nodded, then tousled his hair and trudged down the hall.

Libby was beginning to wake up by the time he peeked inside her bedroom again. He left her to get ready and ventured to the kitchen to make her some sandwiches for her class trip to the American Museum of Natural History, which was finally happening after nearly two weeks' delay. He was just pouring himself a second cup of coffee as she joined him for breakfast, looking cute in a pink dinosaur tee shirt Tammy had gotten her for the occasion. Just as they were finishing up, Maureen walked in, dressed for the day as if she hadn't agreed to try and get some sleep not half an hour earlier. He could see the fatigue on her face, in her demeanor, but it all melted into a smile as she caught sight of Libby.

"Look at you, all ready for your trip! Let me see that tee shirt. I think I'll ask Tammy to get me one too!"

"Are there dinosaurs in your show, Mommy?"

"No, but you know what? I'll have a word with the director," she said, winking. "Come on, go put your shoes on, we have to go soon."

She waited for Libby to rush out of the room before she let her eyes meet his. The cheerfulness in them evaporated at once. Now she looked pale and worried.

"What's wrong?" he asked, although he was beginning to suspect what this was all about.

She answered his unspoken questions, as many as they were, with a single nod. "Noah just texted me, asked if we could come down. Our test results are back."