Author's Note: It was so nice to have such a warm welcome back (sorta back) to the fandom, and to see how many familiar names popped up in the reviews! I hadn't realized so many of you would still be interested in my myriad drabbles. But I hope everyone is well, or at least as well as they can be right now, all things considered :)

To this, if you pay close attention in the beginning here, you'll see this narrative takes place six months after Hotch's ended.

Prompt Set #10

Show: October Road

Title Challenge: The Infidelity Tour

Emily POV

My Best Laid Plans

I fear I've made a terrible mistake.

I love my husband. I adore my daughter. I know I have a good life. I'm lucky.

Blessed.

But I feel like something's missing. That this isn't how it was supposed to be. That my husband, the good, kind, decent man who loves me, who fathered my child, wasn't supposed to be the one.

That Lucy's daddy should have been someone else.

The someone else that I danced with on my wedding day. The someone else I saw slip out immediately afterwards. His features etched with pain. That moment . . . seeing Hotch's face as he turned away, continues to be a dark memory on an otherwise happy day.

Six months after I got married, I became pregnant. It wasn't planned, but I knew immediately that I would have to leave the unit. I couldn't do that work anymore, not with that innocent new life growing inside me.

But when I gave Hotch my resignation . . . the day I realized I was leaving him . . . that was the most painful moment of my life.

I cried in his office. And he held me so close, and he told me that it was okay, and that he understood.

But he didn't understand anything.

Because that was the first moment that I thought . . . this isn't right. This isn't how my life should be. I shouldn't be leaving him.

It was too late though. I was having another man's baby. I was starting a family.

That was three and a half years ago.

And from the day where I actually left the BAU, I was miserable. Absolutely miserable. For the first few weeks I tried to be happy in my new job, but I wasn't happy, because it wasn't possible to be happy if Aaron Hotchner wasn't in my life. Somewhere along the way I'd fallen in love with my former boss and partner.

That was quite the revelation for me.

Truly, I'd thought that we were just good friends, but I'd left other friends in the BAU and I can say without question that I never once sobbed in the shower on a Monday morning simply because I wasn't going to see Dave Rossi when I got into the office. As far as my husband was concerned though, I was just emotional because of the pregnancy.

In reality my heart was breaking.

I had to find a way, somehow, to fix it. So I started manipulating situations around campus just so I could see him again. If I saw on the board that Hotch was teaching a class at the Academy on a Wednesday, I'd immediately volunteer to cover a class that day too. The same thing with trainings and seminars. Every week I'd scan all of the lists looking for his name simply so I could run into him.

It was always just for a minute though.

And I always pretended like it was a surprise. I could tell from the look on his face, from that first splash of recognition as his eyes widened and the spark lit, that he was as happy to see me as I was to see him.

But that happiness . . . it didn't last.

It appeared to . . . we would pretend. But as our short conversations would wind down, I would see the sadness begin to fill his eyes, just as it always filled my heart.

Our time was too short.

And each time I walked away, I'd tell myself that was the last time I would do that to him. Because it was wrong to hurt him that way. If it had just been my heart that I'd been abusing it would have been one thing, but since that day we danced . . . since that moment he turned away . . . I had known that Aaron Hotchner was in love with me.

If only he had told me before I was married, then perhaps things would have been different. In fact I'm sure that they would have been. But I hadn't realized how I myself felt until that day I left the unit.

It was like I was cutting off a piece of myself. Something vital.

Something I couldn't live without.

So I knew intimately the pain that I was inflicting on him each time we were brought together only to be immediately separated again. And I would resolve over and over to stop torturing this wonderful man who continued to mean so much to me.

But then I'd start to forget the important things.

The smell of his aftershave, the exact shade of brown of his eyes, the feel of his arms around me during our quick hugs hello. And then I'd think . . . okay, just one more time. That went on for years.

Then everything changed five months ago.

I saw him, accidentally on purpose, and that time with his expression, there was no moment of pure happiness when he saw me. No, that time it was pain first . . . genuine grief. But then he quickly pasted on a sad smile as he'd asked me how I'd been. That was when I realized that my selfishness was killing him. It was time to let him go.

So I did.

The next time I saw that he was teaching at the Academy, I signed up for a different day. The same with the lectures and the seminars and the trainings. Each week I continued to scan all of the lists for his name, simply to make sure that we would NOT run into each other. If he was going to be somewhere on a Tuesday, I went there on Wednesday. I kept my distance.

I let him go on with his life without me in it.

All the while, the pain in my own heart began to slowly consume me. My wonderful husband, my good life, it wasn't enough anymore.

Not if I couldn't have Aaron too.

The only joy I had left was the time with my daughter. Even then though, I could still feel the sadness pushing against me.

My heart was bleeding.

But then yesterday . . . like an answered prayer . . . I finally saw Aaron again. And it was completely through coincidences of fate.

I got a flat tire on the way home.

It was after sunset, and the shadows were almost completely surrounding me. The only light was from the streetlamp across the road and the occasional passing car. As I was working the bolts, I saw flashing lights appear suddenly behind me, so of course I stopped what I was doing and immediately put my hand on my weapon.

Too many years working in the BAU had destroyed any trust I might have once had in a stranger who offered to help a lady fix her car.

So as the other car door slammed shut, I turned around, ready to firmly send the Good Samaritan on his way. But then I froze . . . my jaw agape.

It was him.

Looking just as handsome and perfect as I remembered him in my dreams.

And he looked as stunned to see me as I was to see him. But this time his surprise wasn't immediately followed by misery. No, this time he flashed a dimple at me. And I grinned. Because I knew then . . . he had missed me as much as I had him. Our sad existence was all that we had left.

And I had taken it away.

Immediately though, he pulled me into a hug. I looped my arms around his neck as he leaned back and lifted me off the ground. And as he held me so tight to his chest, I closed my eyes and turned my face into his neck. I committed everything about that moment to memory. The smell of his skin, the chill in the air, the feel of his hard body pressed against mine. I wanted to remember all of it.

It was going to have to sustain me for God only knew how long.

He held me well past the point of decorum . . . almost a minute. It was a wonderful minute.

But then our moment was gone.

With a heavy, low, exhale, he slowly placed me back down onto the patch of grass by the side of the road. His eyes flicked over my face just once before he turned to look at my car.

I stepped back, staring at him as he walked over and picked up the wrench from where I'd dropped it by the ruined tire.

He made quick work of my flat. And when he was done, he went around to put the tools back into my trunk. While he was looking into that gaping space I heard him tsking to himself that I really should have a patch kit and flares. And then he seemed to realize what he was implying and he slammed the trunk shut.

But the damage was done.

By then I was picturing that world where he was the one that looked after those things. The one who made sure the brakes were checked, and the oil was changed, and I had tools in the trunk. It was the world where he was the one who kept me safe. Me and my baby girl.

In that world, my baby girl was his.

He walked over then to say goodbye. I bit my lip as I stepped close to him, right into his space. I could feel the warmth of his body just as I had when he was holding me only minutes earlier. And I stood there for a second too long, doing absolutely nothing but breathing him in. But then, with a tissue in hand, I reached up to wipe away a spot of grease from his cheek.

When his gaze snapped down to lock onto mine, I gently wiped the smudge from his skin. Tears began to fill my eyes.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

That was my only thought. When I moved to step away, Aaron caught my hand. Again I looked into his eyes. That was when time seemed to stretch out before me. All of my options. All of my choices.

All of the years I had left.

After a minute . . . or maybe ten, by then I no longer could gauge the ticking clock, his voice cracked as he whispered that he was sorry.

And then he let me go.

But I couldn't let him go. Not again. He turned to leave, and the tears began to run down my face as I called out his name.

Aaron.

I had been calling him that since the day I put in for my transfer.

He turned back and I launched myself at him as I cried out that I missed him. I missed him so much.

And then I kissed him.

It took only a moment before he was kissing me back. Desperately, passionately, his fingers in my hair, my body pressed to his, both of us pouring everything into that one moment before it was lost.

It was wonderful. It was what I had been missing for all of those years.

It was my mistake made right.

But then I suddenly realized what I was doing. I was married . . . I had a husband and a child at home waiting for me . . . and I was kissing another man.

Suddenly appalled and mortified at my own despicable behavior, I pulled away, gasping for air. And then I stepped back and stared down at the pebbles on the gravel of the road.

My options once again began to stretch out before me.

Aaron reached for my hand . . . I took another step back, shaking my head as I turned and fled to my car. All the while I could hear him calling my name.

Emily.

Over and over again, it broke my heart. But I didn't look back.

I just drove away.

A little further down the road, I stopped into an empty parking lot. Through my tears, I typed a text message to my husband that I had met my cousin for dinner and I wouldn't be home until late. Then I filled up the gas tank and I drove. I drove for hours, all along the back roads of Virginia.

It was well after midnight when I'd finally returned to my home.

I went in and watched my baby sleep in her small bed. And then I went to my room and watched my husband sleeping in our larger one. After that, I went back downstairs and into the kitchen. I picked up a red pen, and a yellow piece of paper, and I wrote a short note. I went back to my bedroom and left it taped to the alarm clock where I knew my husband would find it first thing in the morning. It said simply.

We need to talk.

And then I went into the hall closet and got a pillow and a blanket before I went back downstairs to sleep on the couch.

That was five hours ago.

Now I can hear my husband's footsteps on the stairs. He's calling my name, wondering where I am. For a moment I consider feigning sleep, putting off the inevitable. But I condemn my own cowardice as I sit up and push back the blanket as I swing my feet to the carpet. I rub my hand across my mouth, steeling my resolve.

Our eyes lock as Jason steps into the room.

Showtime.

A/N 2: Arcadya "eeped" when they kissed (which, if I forgot to tell you hon, I chuckled :)). But, though I don't believe character wise either H or P would cheat, cheat (though if you're the injured party, clearly kissing would count as more than enough cheating to be personally devastating) she just lost control for a minute. And she stopped it, was properly ashamed of her behavior, and left him before she did anything else stupid. Therefore I declare the act is not OOC :)

And actually I thought for someone as morally upright as Emily, the kiss, the fact that she had betrayed her vows, was that over the top something that she would have needed as a swift kick to make her realize she had to choose. Her feelings weren't going away, she's got another forty or so years on the planet, what is she going to do with her life?

Next up is Hotch again.

Little green button folks. Thanks :)

Next: "My New Resolve"