Hard conversations weren't unusual for Holly Lindsey. She knew that most of the time, it was a bad idea to postpone them because the problems only got bigger and harder to fix…and yet all she wanted to do was delay this one. She was pretty sure she knew what the outcome would be and she didn't want that. Even if it went differently, it was always hard to be vulnerable.

Depending on how you looked at it, she had been with Roger for either three months or for the past 15 years. They were the definition of "volatile" and while it initially felt different this time, she was constantly monitoring the relationship for signs of falling into an old pattern. They were there now and she kept replaying the past few months on a loop in her head.

Before this year, they kept giving it a try but it never worked out. There were a lot of reasons for it, but they kept coming back to two main ones. His default emotion was anger and any time that happened, she ran…which made him angry, which made her run. So far, that hadn't happened…at least, not on her part. And there was the fact that he was prone to scheming, which would be bad enough except that he generally kept her on the edges of his life. It was no way to be in a relationship and it made her feel like she wasn't very important to him. He swore she was, but his actions always proved otherwise. He was from the "ask forgiveness, not permission" way of thinking, but learning what was happening only after it was over made her wonder why she even bothered trying to talk to him.

Late the year before, he had been shot and he'd made his way to her house to hide while he recovered. He couldn't remember who had shot him, and he wanted to figure it out before they got a chance to try again. It was one of the hardest things she'd dealt with, seeing him so weak but refusing to let her do much of anything to help him. He wouldn't go to the hospital or even let her call Ed to try and get him help.

"So you expect me to just sit here and watch you die?" she finally yelled at him. "I'm not an expert on this but even I can tell that having a bullet inside you is just asking for an infection and a painful death. How exactly are you going to figure out who shot you? You can't go investigate anything; you can barely even sit up!"

But he did survive and they gave it a…fifth? Seventh? Hundredth try?

And just like every other time, things were great and different until they ended up the same and horrible. She realized that she kept replaying the latest incarnation of their relationship starting with her finding him standing in her living room unexpectedly, right after he used the last of his strength to start a fire and put up her Christmas tree. It was like her heart was reminding her that even though so much of this was painful, it was nothing compared to her fear of losing him and of that loss being permanent.

Even so, she paced around her living room, wondering how she kept letting this happen. She'd known Roger for decades and was starting to realize that, no matter what he said, things wouldn't ever change. It would be a matter of deciding what she could live with and she realized that she couldn't live with this. She loved him despite everything, but she could no longer pretend that was enough.

Things started to sour once Roger realized that Billy and Vanessa's son Peter was actually his own grandson. Bridget had signed away her parental rights to them and Hart didn't know that he was a father. Roger was determined to find Hart so that he could…what, break up Bridget and Dylan, overturn the adoption and have Peter raised as a Jessup (or, even better, as a Thorpe), regardless of what anyone else thought about it or what the other people involved might have wanted. Holly could even understand how Roger was feeling; she would've fought to the death if Hart were her son and this was happening without his knowledge or approval. Her problem was that Roger was refusing to include her in anything. It felt like he was keeping her at arm's length and far away from everything else he was doing. It was like pulling teeth to get him to tell her anything.

She checked her watch; it was almost 7. Roger was supposed to be home any time now and she wanted this over with.

Holly forced herself to stop pacing and sat down on the couch. She curled up under a blanket and started to read. She only made it a few pages before she fell asleep, waking up when the front door closed.

According to her watch, it was almost 10. "Where have you been?" she asked. "We were going to have dinner hours ago."

"I'm so sorry. I went over to Vanessa's and got to see Peter."

"Vanessa let you in?"

"No, she wasn't home. Her son let me in. Michelle was there."

"You tricked a child into letting you in? Roger, Vanessa is going to kill you when she finds out. I can't believe she was gone until so late anyway."

"No, I left by 7:30 but I was too keyed up; I just kept driving around."

She fought the rise of irritation with everything she had. "I understand that you wanted to see Peter and I'm so happy you got to, but I wish you had called me."

"Yeah, you were clearly worried about me."

She scoffed and stood up. "I'm going to bed. I don't want to say anything I'll regret later."

"Can I…?"

"You're kidding, right? There is no way in hell you're sleeping with me tonight." She went into her room and closed and locked the door. She didn't slam it but she very much wanted to.

It took her forever to fall back asleep; she was too angry to close her eyes for long. She kept wanting to go back out there and fight, alternating between mentally continuing the argument and trying to find any chance that the relationship was worth fighting for.

The next morning, she woke up next to Roger, her head on his chest and his arm around her. It took her about 10 seconds to remember the night before; once she did, she shoved him awake.

"What are you doing in here? I locked the door, Roger."

"I couldn't sleep so I picked the lock. I'm sorry; I just wanted to be close to you."

She stared at him in shock. "You know how awful that is, right? I told you I didn't want you in here. And you just came in anyway? While I was SLEEPING?"

"I didn't mean to sleep so late. I was planning to be gone before you woke up." His tone was clearly meant to be soothing, which only made her angrier.

"That doesn't make this any better! When I say I want to sleep alone, I mean it. If I want there to be a caveat like 'unless you can't sleep' or 'unless you can be gone before I wake up,' I'll add it myself! You don't get to decide that for me."

He tried to touch her arm and she jerked away from him so fast that she almost knocked over the lamp.

"Don't! What is wrong with you? You tell me you love me but you can't possibly. You ignore everything I tell you about what I need. You only want me when it's convenient for you and every other time you ignore me. And that's the best case scenario. You just do whatever you want and you don't care about how it affects me."

He looked stricken. "Hol, that's not what's happening."

"That's exactly what's happening. I ask you to tell me how you feel and you won't do it. You won't talk to me. You're keeping me as far away from the rest of your life as you possibly can and show up hours late without even a phone call. And then you break into my room? What is WRONG with you?"

"You told me that you wanted someone who had their own life and interests! You also told me that as far as you were concerned, there was no going back. That's a direct quote."

"When I said that, I meant someone who wouldn't be angry if I did something without them. I didn't mean I wanted someone who would always do things without me, someone who wouldn't consider me an equal partner. I don't want to be the center of the universe, but I don't want to be on the outer edges, either. There's a middle ground there, Roger, and you're not trying to find it. And I definitely didn't mean I wanted someone to ignore a very simple request like `Do not come into my room.' I don't want to end this but you're not giving me a reason to want to stay. You're only letting me in up to a point and you don't care about my feelings at all. So please just go before I say something I can't take back."

He started to speak again and she cut him off. "Roger, if you don't get out of my room right now, I swear to God, I will have the locks changed and I will get the biggest, most vicious dog I can find in case you feel like breaking in again."

He got up and moved toward the door. "Can we at least talk tonight?"

"I'll let you know; right now, I don't think it's a good idea."

She waited in her room until he had left the house and then she got ready for work. When she arrived, she asked the operator to hold all calls regardless of who they were from.

"I mean it. I don't want to talk to anyone, no exceptions."

"Of course."

She went into the newsroom and then to her office. She closed the door and the blinds, then sank down into her chair. She was still so angry at Roger and she was hoping to avoid everyone else so that she didn't take it out on people who didn't deserve it.

On the plus side, she thought, chances were she'd be very productive today without the phone ringing constantly.

She mostly was, except for a small handful of what she had started calling "rage breaks." (She would give herself five minutes to swear and throw something, then get back to work.) It worked out very well.

The day passed very quickly and she was pretty sure that the operator had warned everyone to leave her alone because no one knocked on her door and whenever she left her office, no one tried to talk to her. She was pretty sure no one even tried to make eye contact.

She was in a better mood when she left the office and got in her car to drive home. She debated the relative merits of trying to have a conversation with Roger. It would be good to get it over with, one way or the other, but at the same time, she felt maybe she could be better served by giving herself an evening to not think about it and a night of better sleep.

When she got home, she saw that there was something on the coffee table that definitely wasn't there when she left. She moved closer and saw that it was a note, with a key on top of it.

She sat down and picked it up, starting to read.

Holly, I just wanted to explain. You know my father; I wasn't really allowed to have feelings growing up, and so it's hard to articulate any of them now. It's hard to be vulnerable but that's what you've been asking for and what you deserve.

I don't mean to keep you at a distance from everything else in my life; it's just that your opinion matters and I don't want to disappoint you or hurt you. I never want to see pain in your eyes and so I go out of my way to avoid it. I hate the way that I keep putting it there anyway. So here's everything you've been asking for: I know that I'm pushing too hard with Peter but I don't know how to stop. He's my chance to fix everything that went wrong with Chrissy and Hart, my chance to spend his whole childhood as part of his life. I know that I'm his grandfather and not his father, but this is a way to atone for the mistakes I made with you and Chrissy and also a way to show Hart that I'm not a monster. I know that Vanessa and Billy will never want me to be part of his life, so Bridget is my best chance. And I know that Ed is probably going to wreck that for me, too, if he hasn't already, but I can't stop as long as there's a chance.

I'm so sorry for ever making you doubt how I feel about you. You're the person I love most in the world, and there is nothing I wouldn't do to make you happy. You deserve me saying these things to your face, but right now, this is the best I can do. Just please know how much you mean to me, even when I'm not doing a great job of showing it.

I'm staying with Ross and Blake tonight, if you need to reach me (and I hope you do). I'll give you as much space as you need and I won't contact you again until you're ready. I'm sorry for coming in while you were at work, but I wanted you to see this and know that I'm very committed to you and to us. I left my key so you know that I won't be coming back until I'm invited. I'll never pick a lock again; I see how much of a betrayal that was. I'm not always good at thinking about things like that before it's too late. I just needed to be close to you and I didn't stop to think about how it would make you feel. I'm sorry I was so careless with your feelings. I won't do that again, either.

I love you.

Holly put the note back down on the coffee table and sighed. She didn't know what to do with any of this. She wanted him to be able to include her before he was forced into it. It felt like a good first step, though.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she called Blake.

"Hello?"

"If your dad's there, please don't let him know it's me. Hi."

"Of course. Good to hear from you," Blake said.

"Can you…is he okay?"

"Yup, no problem. About how you'd think it would be going but not the worst case scenario."

"It's a little unsettling to me how good you are at this," Holly said.

"A lot of practice. It's not as hard as you'd think."

"That makes it a lot more unsettling. How much do you know about what happened, why he's there tonight?"

"More than I want to. I don't think I can handle much more, if that's okay. But you weren't wrong."

"Thank you. I don't want to see him tonight but we'll talk tomorrow. I'll call him in the morning; will he be there still?"

"So far as I know, yes. Ross will have some thoughts when he gets home."

"Well, tell him it's just for one night. I love you, and thank you for letting him stay there."

"Of course; you too."

After she hung up, Holly decided that the next time she saw Blake, they were going to have a discussion about how easily she was able to have a conversation that made sense to two different people, one of whom was only hearing part of the call. It felt like a good skill to learn.

But now the whole evening stretched out ahead of her, and she had no idea how to fill the hours. She scrounged through the kitchen and threw together a halfway decent dinner, reminding herself to get groceries after work the next day.

She half-watched It Happened One Night and made some notes ahead of the editorial meeting the next day. When that one ended, she decided to keep watching; His Girl Friday was up next and she'd always loved that one.

Holly wasn't sure when she fell asleep, but at first, her dream was like she and Roger were re-enacting the movie, all fast-paced banter and tension, but then he disappeared and she was trying frantically to find him, but he wasn't anywhere. She'd had this part of a dream repeatedly since he was shot. Sometimes he was shot and killed right in front of her; sometimes she found him dead. The worst ones were when she found him and he died before he knew she was there. This was one of those nights. She was running through Springfield trying to find him and when she finally gave up and went home, he was on her porch. Before she could get up the driveway, he was dead.

She jerked awake on the couch, a scream caught in her throat. "It's OK," she told herself. "He's fine. This already happened. He recovered. He's fine."

She checked the clock. It was a little after midnight. It was definitely too late to call Blake's house and talk to Roger, but she couldn't calm down. She debated what to do but it didn't take her long to pick the choice she wanted: grab her keys, drive to Blake's and see for herself that everything was fine. She promised herself that she wouldn't even get out of the car. She just needed to see.

The streets were empty at this time of night and she made excellent time. She knew which window was the guest room, and she saw that a light was on. "Goddamn it," she muttered. She got out, gingerly closed the car door and crept toward the window in a very uncomfortable half-crouch. She tried to keep as much of her body as possible below the window, then finally steeled herself enough to look into the room, hoping that he wasn't looking outside. Roger was lying on his side, reading.

"He's fine. Go home," she told herself. She took a step backward and her heel snapped a twig. His head shot up and they made eye contact.

His face lit up and she felt a little better but no less ridiculous. She stood up straight and he got up and went over to the window, easing it open. "Hi!" he said. "I'm so sorry, Holly. You were right to be mad; I was horrible to you."

He stopped and looked closer at her face. "Were you crying?"

"I didn't think so, but…I guess it's not outside the realm of possibility. I had…I just needed to see you."

"Hang on. Do you want me to go out there or do you want to come in?"

"I'll come in."

He started fumbling with the screen, and she laughed. "Or you could go meet me at the door. No one else is up."

"Just wanted to make you smile," he said. "OK, meet you at the back door."

She waited while he got the door open and then he put his arms around her. "Are you OK?"

"I am now. Ugh, sorry. I feel so ridiculous."

"Don't," he said. "C'mon, let's go talk in my room."

"Are you going to show me your etchings?" she asked with a smirk.

"I'll show you a lot more than that," he said, grinning.

They slowly moved through the house, avoiding the creaky floorboards and trying not to make any noise until they were safely back in the guest room with the door shut. Holly muffled her laughter with a pillow.

"I feel like I just safely snuck back in after missing curfew," she said.

"God, I know what you mean," he said.

"Really," she said, leaning over and kissing him. "You make me feel like I'm 17. Everything feels like the first time. How's that even possible? You know me down to my soul."

"I do, but we're also different now." Then he cleared his throat and said, "But what's going on? You don't look okay."

"Thanks," she said. "You always know how to make me melt."

He just looked at her. "Don't deflect. Talk to me."

She was still holding the pillow, and she started fiddling with the pillow case. "So you know that I have recurring nightmares. After you were shot, that became the latest one. And I had one of those dreams tonight. It started as His Girl Friday, but then you disappeared and I couldn't find you anywhere. Until I did, and you were dead."

She put the pillow down on the bed and looked over at him.

"I just see you die over and over and it's horrible." Her throat was tight and she was fighting tears. "I'm sorry about this morning. I overreacted."

He took her hands and kissed them. "You didn't. I overstepped. You set clear boundaries and I broke them; you were right to be angry. It was all my fault. And I'm right here. I'm fine. It was just a bad dream."

"And I'm sorry about last night, too. I think it's that when you leave me out, it reminds me of when we were married and you cheated on me all the time. It feels like I'm your last choice and it just really hurts."

"I'm sorry for that. I'll do better, I promise. I never want you to feel that way, definitely not because of me. "

She caught sight of his alarm clock and said, "God, it's so late. I should get going."

"You look exhausted. Why don't you just sleep here?"

She arched an eyebrow. "We need to work on your compliments."

"Seriously. Just stay."

"I don't have anything I need for work tomorrow."

"So take the day off. Isn't that one of the perks of being the boss?"

"Blake will be insufferable if she sees me here."

"Where do you think she got that trait from?" he asked, his face the picture of innocence.

Holly scoffed. "That's all you, baby. I'm never insufferable."

"Never." He smiled like it was a joke, but his voice was sincere.

He turned off the lamp, then stretched out on the bed and pulled her down next to him.

"Get some sleep, Hol. Everything'll look better in the morning."