Come on, Bower. You can make it through one more week. One more week and you'll see some familiar faces. You can do it. Calm down.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Angela knew this pep talk would be as hopeless as the last one. Giving up soon after, she shifted her focus to steadying her breathing. Barbra would be over to pick her up within the hour. She hoped that was enough time to ice the bags under her eyes and redo her makeup.

What set her off this time? She couldn't remember now. Something trivial, no doubt. Another passing thought that left as swiftly as it came. It didn't matter anymore. These episodes had been so frequent the past week or two she didn't spend much time on it anymore.

Pressing the palms of her hands to her eyes, she forced a few deep breaths and finally began calming down. Her legs were still trembling, though. Looking down at the knitting in her lap she noticed she'd dropped almost half the stitches in the current row. It'd been looking good, too. It always showed when she went back to fix a mistake, and now it would be a reminder of yet another collapse.

"To hell with it—" she slurred, picking the yarn up in one fist and throwing it across the room. "To hell with all of it!"

"Angela?"

She swung around in a panic. "Tony..." Running her sleeve over both cheeks, she steadied her voice. "I thought you had practice tonight. You're home early."

Rushing over to her, he said, "A good thing, too. What's the matter? What happened?"

Ignoring him, she asked, "What happened to practice?"

"Don't change the subject. Why are you so upset?"

Feeling herself slipping, she thought quickly. Eying the discarded knitting, she opted for a half-truth. "I messed up the afghan I was working on."

Tony stared at her, hoping the real reason was written on her face but saw nothing. "That... that's it?"

"It was going well. I know it's stupid but I'm just in a mood today." Her voice shook.

"I'll say."

"I'll be fine, I promise. You caught me at a bad moment." She stood. "I need to freshen up before I leave. I'm sorry I don't have dinner ready."

He pulled her back down on the sofa. "Angela, tell me what's really got you upset."

Hands trembling, she grasped for anything plausible. "Just... hormones. I think."

"Are you pregnant?"

"Of course not!"

Raising an eyebrow, he said, "Hey, that's not an unreasonable assumption. We ain't exactly been careful. That would explain why you've been acting so weird."

"I'm not pregnant."

"Okay..."

"I mean it, Tony," Angela murmured. "I'm just having a bad day. I honestly have no idea why."

"Well... if you figure it out, will you talk to me?"

She fibbed again, this time by nodding her head.

"Look," Tony started, wrapping an arm around her. "You're in no shape to go out tonight. Practice was canceled because we're due to get a lightning storm. Better you should stay here for that reason alone. I'll make dinner and you can relax. We can find an old movie on TV and open a bottle of wine. Better yet, I'll run out and rent The Way We Were. How's that sound?"

Before she could realize her actions, Angela was shrugging out of his hold and staggering to her feet again. "That all sounds lovely, but I think I need to get out of the house for a little while."

Hurt evident in his eyes, he questioned, "Are you sure you're up for it?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I really do need to fix my face. My ride will be here soon."

"Can I get you anything before you go? Something to eat?"

"No, thank you," she said as she hurried toward the bedroom. "I'll eat at the alley if I get hungry."

Tony said something else in response, but Angela was walking too fast to make out the words. Locking herself in the bathroom, she pushed her back against the door. When she looked up, she saw herself in the mirror; hunched over, pale, eyes swollen, hair a mess, and face gaunt. The sight brought on fresh tears. She didn't recognize the woman.

This was her?

When did it happen? That was the only thought in her mind now. She swore she didn't look so bad this morning. Tired, but not what might be considered as sickly. She stopped crying quickly, too focused on her reflection. No wonder Tony kept asking her if she was okay. Smiles and a cheerful disposition couldn't hide this kind of evidence.

And then it hit her.

She'd run in here to get away from Tony. She was about to try and hide her face with as much foundation and eyeliner as it took to look presentable and go spend an evening doing something she hated just so she could get out of the apartment. He was ready to pamper and comfort her and the thought had done nothing but upset her more. She'd recoiled at a simple touch. And what for? He hadn't done anything wrong. Nothing at all. Not five minutes ago and not the last few months. This was the kind of attention she always hoped to get from him when things got busy. Yet, she felt angry with him, as if he had intended to interrupt her time alone and catch her in a weak moment. For this, she refused to indulge in what she'd consider the perfect evening any other day. This scared her, but not enough to stay put for the night.

Putting on her brave face, she pushed through to the bowling alley. Her mind, though, was not on the game to the point she let Rosie play her frames. Guilt around leaving Tony with little explanation intensified. She knew he was worried, yet she left without even saying goodbye. Surely he was going to put something together whether it was the truth or some other assumption she'd have to prove to him wasn't true.

He didn't deserve this. Of all the times he put his life on hold and made room for others the worst that showed of it was some burnout. This wasn't burnout. It was deterioration both mentally and physically. It didn't make sense. This was temporary and the end was in sight. Why was she choosing now to break down? They were so close. If she came clean to him now, what was the point of smiling through the past few months? It didn't matter, though. She never wanted to admit she wasn't able to support him.

"Angela, you look like hell," Barbra said as she sat down next to her. "You should be home."

"I know," she sighed.

"Come on, I'll drive you back."

"No," she said too quickly. "No, it's okay. We can wait until the game is over."

"You're not even playing."

"Tired, that's all."

Unconvinced, Barbra questioned, "Fight with Tony?"

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Angela answered, "Not exactly."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. He wanted me to stay home, too."

"So why didn't you?"

She shrugged. "I've been cooped up all week. I wanted a change of scenery."

Barbra rolled her eyes. "Excuses like this might work on the men but I'm not buying it."

Angela turned her head.

"You're unhappy here, admit it. It's clear to all of us."

Not hiding her frustration, she answered, "This would not have been a choice I made for myself, no. But I'm not here for myself. I'm here for Tony. You know that."

"You've got to talk to him, Ang."

Angela scoffed. "And say what? That he needs to move back East because I'm bored? That's not fair to him."

"Just let him know what you're going through. He'll understand."

"I know he will. That's exactly why I can't tell him." She shook her head, bringing her fingertips to her temples. "I've got a splitting headache. Maybe I should go back to the apartment after all."

Realizing further argument was a lost cause, Barbra pulled out the keys and shot a couple of the other women a knowing look. Without further discussion, they changed their shoes and scurried to the car through the rain.

. . .

Angela entered the apartment with a sigh, kicking herself for leaving in the first place. Granted, space had cleared her mind a bit, but that wasn't worth the emotional hangover she was suffering through now.

"I'm home," she said as she locked up for the night. Tony still insisted on keeping everything open, but she wasn't in the mood to wake up tomorrow to company.

She didn't think much of it when Tony didn't respond, assuming he was invested in whatever was playing on the television. Once she was closer, she noticed he was asleep.

She felt a mix of relief and disappointment. After some further conversation with Barbra on the way home, she wanted to be near Tony. At the same time, she didn't want to discuss her day any further. After standing in the same spot for two minutes just staring, her need for him won out. Moving around to the front of the couch, she snuggled up next to him, putting his closest arm around her shoulder.

Tony stirred, feeling Angela and adjusting his arm so it was tighter around her. A few more seconds passed before he remembered where he was.

"What time is it?" he asked, his throat dry.

"Only a quarter past eight," Angela answered. "I came home early."

He sat up a bit. "Are you all right?"

"Tired," she shrugged. "And I felt bad for leaving the way I did."

"It's all right."

"No, it's not."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she answered. "I just want to put today behind me."

"You'll feel better if you talk—"

"Tony, please. Not tonight."

Not wanting to alienate her any more, he gave in. "All right... all right."

"Thank you." She rested her head against his chest. "I just want to be here next to you."

Leaning back against the cushions again, he kissed her head and wrapped his free arm around her as well. "Whatever's going on, it will get better. I promise, sweetheart."

Silent tears sprung to Angela's eyes as she nodded. She wasn't so sure anymore.