I received this particular request in a review a little while back:

hi! i love drama, so I hope you can write about the 5 days when Phoebe did not talk to Josh after he did not allow Phoebe to donate her kidney.

It made me think and alas here is the requested chapter. I do feel like a super happy time/chapter is due from any time through out this story. Any requests?

Five Days

Phoebe's POV:

I hug my parent's goodbye and thank them for watching and looking after Carrie for us tonight while we attempted to solve our dispute over my wish to donate a kidney to Josh. Neither my father or mother have asked what Josh and I said to each other in our study. They don't need to. They are aware that he has refused my help. I wouldn't know what to tell them if they did ask. Josh and I just spent the last four hours arguing until there was nothing else to say. We hit a stalemate until he flat out refused to let me donate a kidney to him. If my parents weren't aware of the outcome of our argument, they would be able to tell from our body language. Josh and I are standing several feet away from each other by design. My intelligent husband knows that if he were to move closer to me, I would match his movement by moving further away. I need space. My anguish over these life-shattering events is clouding my thoughts and sending emotions into a frenzy. Fury. I am furious. It is winning out over my sensibilities and heartbreak. If only Josh understood how much I want to help him, and so desperately don't want him to leave us! Sometimes you need to solve one extreme with another.

I wave one last time to my parents they drive off. Maybe, just maybe they will think that I am okay. That's a ridiculous thought. My parents know me too well. I can predict tomorrow already. My mother is going to phone me at work, offering to take me to lunch; and my father is likely to turn up at the office under the pretense of looking over some deal; all in an attempt to gauge the atmosphere at home and how I am holding up. I shake my head. It's worse enough that my brother knows what transpired here today and I can't avoid him at the office tomorrow. I pray for some major catastrophe that will keep us all beyond busy or at least my brother away. At times like this, Ted reverts being my big brother and me, his baby sister, that needs to be protected. Our age difference extenuates this. It doesn't matter that I am in my thirties or the COO of Grey Enterprise.

I become rigid when I turn around. Josh looks at me lovingly and holds out his hand. I don't know if he is hopeful or expecting me to take his it and re-enter our home together. I love him so much, but I can't take his hand or close the distance between us. I don't think I have ever felt exactly like this before. I am not thinking rationally, and my anger is expanding by the emotions I am trying to bury because they hurt so much! I doubt that Josh has ever been the source of me being this angry before. In the cruelest manner, I walk slowly towards him ensuring not an ounce of anger is on show. Josh's body language relaxes, and he gives me a sincere smile, however, just before I am within arms reach, I allow my expression to match my mood. My usually composed and controlled husband recoils. I walk around him, entering the house without uttering a word. I know that Josh is going to feel rejected but it is nothing to what I feel right now. Damn, I was so cold, but it is what I feel.

I pick up my pace and race up the stairs to our bedroom. I manage to grab Josh's pajamas, the bag that contains his medication in our bathroom and place them outside our bedroom door. I lock it before Josh makes his way upstairs. Maybe he was giving me a few moments to cool down or was so shocked at how unresponsive I was outside that I had enough time to lock him out and still ensure he had what he needed for the evening. I freeze when I hear the sound of Josh trying to open the door

"Phoebe. Unlock the door." Josh calls out from the door. I refuse to talk to him though am aware that if I don't communicate in some form, he is likely to continue to call out and bang on the bedroom door, possibly inadvertently waking up Carrie. That is the last thing I want, and I don't wish to explain this to her. What would we say? She is yet to learn about her father's health issue yet. I pick up my cell phone and email Josh. He always has his phone on him.

To: Joshua Harris

From: Phoebe Grace Harris

Subject: Alternative sleep arrangements

To Josh,

I will safely assume that you have located your pajamas and medication at the door. Should there be anything else, then please seek the assistance of our domestic staff. The three guest rooms should have everything else you need.

From Phoebe Harris

COO of Grey Enterprise Holdings

To: Phoebe Grace Harris

From: Joshua Harris

Subject: Cancel those arrangements.

To Phoebe,

Please.. open the bedroom door. I don't want to sleep in one of the guest rooms nor do I believe you want to be alone. We need to talk. I know you are hurting and upset. I am too. Let me comfort you. Let me hold you. Let us be together. Please let me into our room.

From Josh Harris

Senior Partner.

To: Joshua Harris

From: Phoebe Grace Harris

Subject: No

See subject heading. We have talked enough tonight. You can continue to stand outside our bedroom all night if you wish. If you decide to stay outside the door all night, then I kindly request that you keep the noise down. Our inquisitive daughter is asleep in the room next door.

From Phoebe Harris

COO of Grey Enterprise Holdings

To: Phoebe Grace Harris

From: Joshua Harris

Subject: The door.

To Phoebe,

Open the door. If not then I will ask Security to do so. I would prefer not ask them but if you leave me no other choice I will.

From Josh Harris

Senior Partner.

To: Joshua Harris

From: Phoebe Grace Harris

Subject: Think again

If you have security open these bedroom doors, then I will sleep in one of the guest rooms, Or I will wake up Carrie and leave with her. I will call Taylor and see out his help.

From Phoebe Harris

COO of Grey Enterprise Holdings

To: Phoebe Grace Harris

From: Joshua Harris

Subject: Regretful.

To Phoebe,

Don't. I don't want you to leave. That is the last thing I want.

I am sorry. I love you. I will be in the spare room next to Carries. The door will be unlocked all night. If you need or want me, I will be as close as you allow. I will have my cell phone next to me. You only need reach out.

From Josh Harris

Senior Partner.

Josh's POV:

I wake up late from one of the worst sleep I have ever had. Most definitely the poorest I have had under this roof. Every other night I have slept in our home has been restful. Even when Carrie was a newborn and wouldn't sleep for longer than ninety minutes at a time, each night was still blissful and delivered the joy of a new day. The clock reads seven o'clock. I slowly get up and find one of my suits, white linen shirts, ties, socks, and shoes neatly placed over the two-seater couch in the room. Phoebe must have placed them in here. At least I hope it was her. I walk out of the guest room and look inside the open door of Carrie's room. She isn't there. I head into the main bedroom that up until last night I always shared with Phoebe, but it is empty. I note that Phoebe's work bag and cell phone is not in its usual place. She has to be downstairs already. Phoebe traditionally drops Carrie off at school on Mondays before heading off to Grey House. It's a routine that started when Carrie began school. This way no matter how busy the work week was, it allowed Phoebe and Carrie to discuss what was happening and helped keep them connected.

I enter the kitchen expecting to see the two people I love most. However, I frown when I see the image in front of me. The kitchen and breakfast bar is empty. Silence.

"Josh, can I get you some breakfast?" Mary our housekeeper asks. When we employed her, we instructed her to call us by our first names. Mary lives with us and as a result is part of Carrie's life. It was always our wish for our home to be comfortable and casual.

"Do you know where Carrie and Phoebe are?" I ask before responding to her question. It is likely to determine my appetite. Mary looks at me surprised by my question. She expected me to know the answer to my simple question and obviously is unaware that I slept in one of the guest rooms. She will work it out soon enough when she ventures upstairs. At least this confirms the fact that it was Phoebe who put clothes in the guest room for me. At least she thought about me enough to do that.

"Phoebe and Carrie went out for breakfast this morning. They went on one of their trips to IHOP." No wonder Mary didn't think anything of this. IHOP trips are a Grey family pastime.

"Oh yes… Of course, I forgot...umm.. thank you. I am going to go back upstairs to shower and get ready for work."

"What about breakfast?" Mary asks politely. Food is the past thing I am in the mood for.

"Thank you, but I need to hurry today. I will grab something in the office. I will see you this evening Mary." I walk up the stairs, feeling haunted by the silence that this Monday morning has delivered. I text Phoebe. It's a simple message, but I am desperate to have some contact with her. I have no wish to continue to argue nor did I want to reprise last night events; however, I won't change my mind.

*Missed you and Carrie this morning. I love you both.*

I had hoped I would receive a reply, but as the hour's tick by while I busied myself with work, none came.

Having ended up at work earlier than expected due to my wife and daughters absence this morning, I left early. I hedged my bets and figured if I arrived home early then I would get an opportunity to end this days silence with Phoebe. I didn't send any more text messages nor did I email, instead I attempted to phone, but none of my calls got through. My wife's personal assistant kept making excuses. I resorted to calling Ted at three, who reluctantly informed me that Phoebe had been abrupt all day and was almost manic. He also informed me she only just left for the day. I felt like I was putting Ted in the middle, but felt like I had much of a choice. Carrie has horse jumping lesson's after school on Mondays and Phoebe loves watching them whenever she can. Since she has left the office already, she is either by the stables or on her way home.

I discard my suit jacket, tie and undo the first few buttons of my shirt while I walk through the house. I can see in the distance Carrie on her horse with her instructor close by. Our daughter is a competent rider, having been introduced to horses before she could even walk. We even gave Carrie her first horse, a silver pony, for her first birthday. A few months ago she asked if she could start to learn how to do show jumps, after attending a horse show. Phoebe was uncertain remembering when she fell off a horse from jumping at a young age, but Carrie persisted and managed to convince us. I watch from the patio area, as my daughter listens to her instructor and then sets off. She stops her horse on the first three attempts to jump, but on the fourth attempt manages the beginner jump. I don't have to be close to Carrie to know that she is overjoyed. Pride fills me. Not because she was successful but because she didn't give up. Carrie analyzed the situation, didn't jump when she didn't feel right and waited. The lesson ends and Carrie, seeing me heads straight to me. She is running faster than I have ever seen.

"Daddy, I did it. I jumped. My horse and I did it!. We jumped!" Carrie practically jumps into my arms. I was wrong. She isn't overjoyed. Carrie is elated.

"I know. I saw it. You managed the jump because you worked hard and didn't give up. It was all about effort, not only when learning to do horse jumping, but also school work and anything else you try in life! Effort and persistence. Promise me you will always remember that all it takes to succeed is effort and persistence! Do you understand?" I have bent down, so I am on eye level with Carrie. I need to know that she comprehends what I mean.

"I promise. I understand! Don't give up. Just try and try and try." I breathe out relieved. And so it begins. I have just offered my daughter the first piece of advice that I would have continued to reinforce throughout the years as she grows into the amazing woman she is going to become. Fate has determined that I won't be around and while I know Phoebe will be there for her, I relax a little knowing that I will have a lasting impact on my precious daughter's life. My little girl may have to grow up earlier than we have wanted or expected. I have requests. Promises if you wish, that I will ask of Carrie. I want to know that I will still have some level of influence in my daughter's life after I am gone. I need to make sure that she and Phoebe are going to continue to enjoy life.

"Very Good. Is your mother at the stables?" I figured that Phoebe probably was and was now returning Carrie horse as our daughter failed to do so due to her excitement.

"Mommy isn't home," Carrie replies casually.

"Then who put your horse back for you?"

"Annabel and my instructor. They said that they would put him the stables for me so I could come and tell you that I made the jump in case you missed it."

"Then you will have to tell your mom all about your success when she gets home. She shouldn't be too long, and then we can all have dinner together."

"No, we can't. Mommy isn't coming home until late."

"What makes you say that?" I ask slowly, my hope dissipating.

"She told me when we went out for a special mummy and daughter breakfast today. That's why Mom took me to IHOP this morning. She let me have the red velvet pancakes. They were delicious." Guilt. Phoebe feels guilty. My wife would have woken up knowing that she needed to avoid a situation at home, more tension, and that is why she took Carrie out and allowed her to have pancakes that she usually wouldn't be allowed to. Especially not on a school day.

"Those pancakes sound good. I will have to be sure to have them myself next time…. I was very busy at work today, and I haven't had a chance to talk to your mom. What did she say to you exactly in regards to being late?"

"I have already told you. Mommy said that she and I were going to breakfast together as she couldn't be home this evening. Mom wanted some special one and one time with me. Mommy said she loved me and would see me tomorrow in the morning." I sigh. Even though Carrie is unaware of what is going on, I can't let her get in the middle of this. I have no choice but just carry on with this pretense.

"You have a fantastic memory. But can you remember when mom mentioned a time she will be coming home?"

"No. Mom didn't say."

"Excuse me, Josh, when would you like dinner?" Mary enquired standing behind us.

"Whenever it is convenient," I reply. If it weren't for Carrie, I would skip dinner now.

"Can we have a daddy and daughter dinner picnic? Mary is making pasta." Carrie asks.

"Sure. I will lay one of our picnic rugs out here, and we can have a pasta picnic. I will sneak you half a glass of lemonade as long as you promise not to tell."

"I won't tell, but it has to be pink lemonade, and both of us should get into our pajamas!" Carrie instructs with so much excitement that I can't help but get sucked in. This little girl fills my life with so much joy.

"Deal. However, that means you need to go and have a bath first. Go upstairs and place your clothes into the hamper. I will be up in a minute to run your bath. I just need to make a quick phone call."

"I will run Carrie's bath for you. Take your time with your phone call." I nod at Mary gratefully. Holding my breath I call Phoebe's cell, but it rings out. I try again and still there is no answer. I am not surprised. Phoebe is still furious, but worst she is hurting. I don't know what is harder; the pain I feel knowing I won't see my daughter grow up and grow old with Phoebe, or the pain my wife is going to feel having to bury me and be strong for our beloved daughter. Hell, both are hard. I call Markinson who confirms that Phoebe is safe and well, but is uncharacteristically indirect when I inquire as to where in Seattle she is. I don't press it. He is probably under orders not to say anything. In resignation, I throw my cell phone to the side and decide to do what I know I can do. Prepare myself to enjoy an evening with Carrie.

I kiss Carrie and tuck her in after she completed her reading assignments. It doesn't take her long to fall asleep. Being at school all day and her horse jumping lessons take it out of her. I spend a few minutes watching her. Even if I lived until I was a hundred years old, it wouldn't be enough to tell my daughter how much I love her. Walking out of Carrie's bedroom I am struck by the silence of the house and the void that seems to have formed. This home has always been full of laughter and love. I go downstairs and wait for Phoebe to arrive back. The clock ticks past eight, then nine…. ten. When the clock hits eleven, I decide that enough is enough! I attempt to phone Phoebe, but she doesn't answer. I know she is safe. Protocol dictates that the housebound security is to be informed if there is an incident with Phoebe, then myself and Christian and Ana Grey are to be updated. There would be a small gathering of the Grey family in this main room if anything occurred. I consider calling Phoebe again but decide against it. She wouldn't answer. Instead, I send a text.

*Carrie told me that you wouldn't be home this evening, but it's late. Are you still at Grey House? When will you be home? I have called your cell phone, but you didn't answer, Would you like me to come and get you?*

Of course, I am aware that Phoebe isn't at her office, but she isn't. I hope that this leads her to tell me where she is. At least I don't have to wait long for a reply.

*I am busy with work.I will be home late. I have Markinson with me. He will bring me back later.*

*I have missed you today. I will wait up for you.*

*Do not wait up for me. I will be late*

*I want to talk to you. Can you answer your cell phone since you seem to be avoiding coming home.*

*I can't think of what I would say to you right now.*

*I wanted to tell you that I love you and missed you today. I hate not seeing you.*

I hold my breath. A reply doesn't come as quick as the previous messages

*I love you too. If you hate not seeing me every day, then please say yes. Please, I beg you. Let me donate the kidney*

*No. I love you and Carrie too much*

*We love you too. Let me help you stay with us*

*The risk is too big*

*Then there is nothing else to say.*

And just like that, we hit another stalemate. It has only been a day that we haven't spoken or seen each other, but I miss everything about Phoebe. Her voice, presence, humor, passion, her love, and caring nature. I miss seeing her interact with our daughter.

# # # #

I wake up exhausted. I use to think our guest rooms were comfortable and welcoming, but after spending five nights in one, my opinion has changed drastically. My attention is drawn to the two seater couch, where one of my dark suits, white shirt, matching tie, boxer shorts, a pair of socks and shoes. Phoebe has been in here again. Every morning she has placed whatever I would need for the day here.

It's Friday. We have spent the whole week in a stalemate. We haven't even had a meal together. Carrie has simply been told that we are busy this week with work. I stayed at the office one evening and the next with some of my lawyer friends. This way I gave Phoebe some space to spend with Carrie. On Tuesday night we were all home, and Carrie started to get suspicious at the lack of conversation and tension, so I thought it best to offer space. Phoebe didn't even manage a spoonful of food on the night that we were all home, and I had hoped being away would assist in her having a decent meal. Though I have heard, it hasn't been so.

I quickly shower and get dressed. I wonder to what extent Carrie know that Phoebe and I are not talking and are in the midst of a disagreement. Our daughter hasn't even seen us disagree once. Sure we have in the past, but we always did so behind closed doors, and we never once stop talking. Both Phoebe and I have taken measures to prevent her finding out, but surely she must realize that this week has been out of the norm. I straighten my tie and smile. Phoebe put out one of my dark blue suits. My preferred outfit at the start of any court case. It's a secret I have kept from everyone except my wife. Call it superstition, but my cases have always gone smoother and in my favor when I have.

I check the time on my watch and hurry out. It's quarter to seven. I open Carrie's bedroom door expecting her to be waking up. "Carrie...!" I was going to continue to telling her it was time to wake up but it wasn't needed.

"Hey," Carrie says quickly, running past me, already dressed in her school uniform.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Oh sorry." Carrie walks over to me and kisses me. "Good Morning dad." I smile though this isn't what I meant though I do finally notice that she has a hairbrush in her hand. "Please tell me that mom is in your bedroom still?" All the air leaves my lungs. For the first time, I don't know the answer to that question.

"You will have to go and check."

"I pray mom hasn't left for her meeting this morning."

"Morning meeting?" I mentally chastise myself for my tone.

"Yeah. The one Mom said she has to attend. Dad, you're forgetting so much this week." If only that were the issue.

"Must be my old age. When did your mother mention her meeting to you?" Instinctively I squat down, so I am on the same level as her. I look into Carrie's eyes that are identical to her mother's.

"This morning when she came into my bedroom to wake me up. Mom said that she was leaving early as she had to go to a meeting because of the work she had to do last night. Mom said she wished she didn't have to go into Grey House earlier than usual but didn't have a was in her robe and went to go get dressed." I struggle not to frown.. to pound my arm against the wall .. to scream, but as soon as Carrie has raced off, I can't hold it in, especially since when she runs out of our bedroom calling out to her mother while she runs down the stairs. I don't have the energy to remind Carrie of the house rule of not running inside the house, especially not down the stairs where she could fall and hurt herself. I follow, my spirits dwindling, though they lift when I find Phoebe is still home. Sitting at breakfast bench, with no breakfast in front of her but her spill proof travel mug, her leather case and now doing two french braids in Carrie's hair. Carrie at least managed to get to Pheobe before she left. Phoebe only briefly looks at me, but it is long enough to know her anger has not subsided.

"Are you all ready for breakfast?" Our housekeeper, Mary asks us.

"Yes please," I reply, hoping it will make Phoebe stay and eat. Mary hands Carrie her usual bowl of oats and fresh fruit and then commences to cook my regular bacon and vegetable omelet and Phoebe's egg white omelet with spinach and mushrooms.

"Mary thank you, but I don't have time this morning," Phoebe announces tying the last braid in Carrie's hair.

"You're not going to eat breakfast?" I question. Phoebe looks at me disappointed, but I her emotion is directed at herself.

"Carrie, have you packed your homework and library books in your school bag?"

"Yep. All ready"

"Good. Now don't forget to wear your school hat entering and leaving school. The Vice principal of your school emailed me and said if you were caught breaking school uniform policy again you are going to have to attend a detention. Mrs. Ingham also told me she wouldn't email me anymore and instead would phone me directly. So hat on Missy!" Carrie desperately wants to roll her eyes. She hates her school white Panama hat. It is the one thing that our daughter fails to adhere to. I can't help but smile and feel sadness at the same time. This is the closest we have been a family since Sunday though dislike the nature of it.

"Alright, fine...I won't get caught then!" I grin a little at Carrie's quick response. It usually would force Phoebe to hide her smirk, but my wife has so many walls up that nothing, not even our daughter can break them.

"Carrie, don't push this. You know your school's uniform policy. If you fail to comply and I get contacted by your school, you're grounded for a week. I will cancel your horse jumping lessons, piano lessons and everything else. I mean it. No iPad, TV.. nothing!" Carrie looks shocked not only at her mother's threat but also her harsh tone. It even takes me by surprise.

"What if my school doesn't phone you and calls dad instead?..." Trust Carrie to try and find a loophole. If she ever does go into law, she is going to be brilliant. I feel a hard pain in my chest. I won't see if she will or not. Nor will I be around to guide Carrie and selfishly try to encourage her to go to my old alma mater, Yale, over Harvard, which is the university of choice of the Grey family. Both are great colleges though I can't help my preference. ".. this way mom you won't have to talk to Mrs. Ingham."

"Carrie, do not test me. In fact.. if your school contacts either of us, you will now be grounded for two weeks! One more word from you on this matter and I will make it three weeks." I sit back on my chair and analyze the situation. Phoebe is uncharacteristically harsh and unyielding. It is a side effect of our situation and her mood. "Do you understand me and your school's uniform policy, Carrie Grace Harris?"

"Yes, Mom," Carrie replies softly, looking down and playing with her oats.

"Good. Now.. umm... eat... eat your breakfast. I have to go!... I will try and be home before four today." Phoebe struggles to speak and directs the latter part of her statement more at Carrie than myself while rubbing her forehead. My wife's her voice was low, regretting her the manner she just spoke to Carrie. Phoebe doesn't like this more than I do.

"Can you stay and eat something. Just another ten minutes?" This is the most I have been able to say face to face to Phoebe in five days and five nights.

"I … I can't" Carrie thankfully isn't old enough to see the pain in her mother's eyes. I understand the term ignorance is bliss now. I almost wish I had the privilege though it wouldn't help.

"Have a good day," Phoebe bends down, and kisses Carries head.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Carrie?"

"You haven't kissed Dad goodbye." Carrie points out. I can understand why she is curious. Phoebe and I have always shown our daughter how much we love each other to make her feel secure. Neither of us has ever left the house, without kissing each other goodbye.

"Well.. I.. " Phoebe stops and sighs silently. My articulate and quick thinking wife can't work out how to respond.

"Carrie, mom and I can't kiss right now," I speak up.

"Why?" Carrie asks me innocently, not taking her eyes off me. I look at Phoebe. Nothing would give me more pleasure right now than to stand up, wrap my arms around her and feel her lips pressed against mine.

"I was unwell last night, and I don't want to risk your mom becoming sick also." Carrie shrugs and nods, accepting my excuse.

"I need to go. I will see you tonight" Phoebe utters looking down before she leaves.

This needs to end. Both Phoebe and I know it.

# # # #

I smile at the iMessage, and photo Ted just sent me on my cell phone. It is a selfie of him, Lily, his children, and Carrie, at the Seattle Mariners games where Grey Enterprise has a corporate box. I reply thanking him, though this just causes him to respond 'what are best friends and the greatest uncle in the world for! Good luck tonight.. considering my sister's mood lately, you will need it!" Ted couldn't be more right! I contacted him today to ask for him help. We met for lunch, and I told him what had been transpiring this past week. Ted knew that Phoebe and I were still in a bad place over my diagnosis and refusal to allow her to help me, but he wasn't aware of the extent.

Right on time the door opens. I am standing at the entrance, by the staircase. The first thing Phoebe will see is me. I know that I am cornering her, but it's the only way to force her to communicate with me. Honestly, communicate. This is why I had to organize for Carrie to be away. She is yet to learn about everything happening, and I wish to keep it that way until it is deemed necessary. Carrie's happy childhood is paramount which is why we also need to end this! In the rare few times that the three of us have been together since Sunday, communication is limited between Phoebe and I. Carrie is bound to notice.

Phoebe becomes rigid when she see me. No words are exchanged. She tries to put on a strong front but is failing. The strain of the past five days is evident in her eyes and body language. Phoebe's eyes even start to water. I lower my shoulders. I step forward to her, to take her in my arms and hold her, to love her. My determined movement abruptly ceases when Phoebe holds her hand out and calls out, "No. Stop"

I am winded. I don't remember the last time Phoebe said ''No and stop to me.. has she ever? My stubborn wife uses her well-developed business skills and recomposes herself. Any business opponent would be forgiven for mistaking her for being composed and in control. But I know she is the opposite. Phoebe becomes rigid again and starts to walk around me. I desperately wish to stop her, hold her tightly...but it's an advantage not afforded to me right now. Phoebe glares at me as if she can see right through me. I take three deep breaths before I shake my head and follow her. Tonight might end up in a hell of a fight, but I can't let Phoebe just walk away. It's not in her nature and out of character; however, the situation is has made everything uncertain.

Phoebe either forgot to lock the bedroom door, as she has done so for the past five nights or just maybe she wanted me to follow her. While I would love to say it is the latter, it's unlikely. The bedroom is empty, but I can hear Phoebe in our walk in robe. She sounds frustrated. I slowly walk in, and though Phoebe knows I am present, she doesn't acknowledge me.

"Do you need some help?" I offer as she rummages through shelves and drawers. "Let me help you. What are you looking for?"

"My riding pants." Okay, three words but it's a start. I find them straight away. They were right in front of Phoebe. My poor wife is so frustrated with herself and the whole situation that it's clouding her usual clear head. I hand them to Phoebe, where she takes them.

"Are you going for a ride?"

"Yes. I told Carrie I would take her this afternoon."

"Carrie can't go."

"And why can't she go?" Phoebe asks concerned.

"She isn't here. Carrie is out with Ted, Lily and her cousins."

"Why wasn't I told or consulted over this?" Phoebe's asks annoyed. We always double check everything with each other. This is probably the first time we have not.

"For starters, you haven't been willing to talk and…"

"You could have emailed me." I decide to ignore this comment and continue my argument.

"And secondly, because we both need to talk.."

"We are, or at least were. I am going for a ride." I grab Phoebe's arm tighter than I meant to prevent her from walking away.

"You are hurting me." Phoebe looks at me shocked. I am shocked at myself. I let go immediately.

"I.. I am sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I am sorry. Is your arm sore?"

"I wasn't talking about my arm." All the air leaves my body. I am doing the one thing I never wanted to do to my wife. Phoebe's voice is quiet and full of pain. Her blue eyes commence to water. I raise my hands to wipe the tear that is running down her cheek. Thankfully she doesn't move away from me.

"I never wanted to hurt you. We always knew that this could happen."

"And we have know that I could help you, but yet you continue to say no!" Phoebe hisses.

"Phoebe drop it. I refuse to say accept. There is nothing that you could say that will change my mind."

"You broke your promise then."

"Promise?"

"You promised never to hurt me. After we had reconciled and I accepted to marry you." I swallow. Phoebe is right, but she is also wrong. "I hate this. I hate that you are going to be sick again. I hate that.. I hate that you won't let me make you better. I hate this. I wish that.. I wish…" I swallow hard. Oh, no.. I don't think I can handle hearing what Phoebe is trying to say but can't get out. "Why do you chose to die over living?"

"I don't."

"That's a lie." Phoebe starts to cry. They are silent tears but are flowing freely. I place both of my hands on Phoebe's arms. I am careful not to hold her her too tight that I will hurt her, but my grip is firm enough that she won't be able to let move away from me. Phoebe doesn't attempt to run but does slump to the floor. I join her, shifting her, so she is sitting on my lap. I hold her. I have missed holding her. I will stay like this the whole weekend if it means being close to her.

I raise her face so that I can look directly into Phoebe's eyes. "Phoebe I am sick... it's a reality we have to face… But I am not dying right now, and I am most definitely not choosing to do so over living every day I have left with you and Carrie. I want to enjoy every day, to treasure every moment... to show you how much I love you and our daughter. That is why we can't keep doing this. I would give anything away.. do anything to have longer with you, but it just isn't to be. I couldn't live with myself if you gave me a kidney and your health took a hit. That would be hurting you and Carrie. It wouldn't be fair to you both, or my love for you. We have always known that I could get sick again."

"I always prayed that it wouldn't happen. I thought that if we were careful, followed doctor's orders, stayed healthy and always had each other… we would beat all the statistics!" I don't know how Phoebe managed to speak so smoothly, as her tears race down her face and she sobs.

"In a way we have. Many people who receive a transplant live far less than I have. Phoebe, you have kept me healthy. I wouldn't have survived a day without you. You have kept me alive, ever since the day you turned up at my hospital room in New York."

"I was mad at you that day."

"I know. I am glad you forgave me."

"I don't forgive you right now."

"I know, but I hope you will one day, soon. Please, Phoebe let me back in. I can't live without you."

"But you are asking me to live without you." Phoebe's overly emotional state is put aside temporarily as her anger resurfaces.

"Yes. I am asking you to live a long life. To experience everything the world has to offer and watch our daughter grow up. To guide Carrie in the manner that we have raised her so far. To live and be happy again. To honor our love, by living. To show the world that the time we had and still have made you more whole and left you a better person. Most of all I am asking you to be healthy for our precious and amazing daughter. This is what I am asking you." Phoebe doesn't say anything, but her eyes give away that she understands what I am saying. I relax as she lays her head on my chest. I hold her, rubbing her back, allowing her to cry. I wish Phoebe wouldn't, but this is part of her accepting what is happening. The only thing I can do is hold her. I don't know how long we remain on the floor of our bedroom, but day becomes night, and soon Phoebe's tears, which has long become silent, then eventually become replaced by her steady and calm breathing. Sleep overtakes her. Carefully I shift so I can pick her up and place her on the bed. It becomes apparent how little sleep Phoebe has had these past five days, less than me as I remove her shoes and riding pants, to make her more comfortable. I lower the bed covers and lift her slightly. She is lighter now than five days ago. I have to make sure Phoebe eats tomorrow morning and each subsequent meal. I slide in beside her, after removing my work clothes, and pull her close to me, her back to my chest. I relish the feeling of Phoebe's skin against mine. The last five days feels like it has been longer.

Phoebe starts to stir a little and unconsciously turns, so she is facing me. Her body close to mine, with her hand on my chest. I wrap my arm around her waist. Phoebes preferred sleeping position. I drape my arm around her. Phoebe's eyes flutter open. She smiles at me and grips me tighter.

"Gosh, you're beautiful! I love you so much!"

"I missed you. I won't shut you out again" Phoebe utters before falling asleep. I kiss her forehead promising not to waste another second.