Life was moving forward. Some days, it seemed as though it traipsed along at a snail's pace, and others flew by so quickly that Lester wondered where the time had gone.

Officially, he was sleeping in Gia's spare bedroom. He hated the apartment at RangeMan; staying there, even sleeping on the couch like he had been since he returned from his mission, reminded him of the darkest day of his life. He couldn't bear to walk over the spot on his floor where Giana had crumbled, torn to shreds by him, and had taken to skirting the center of his apartment and sticking close to the walls. The bedroom was unquestionably off-limits, and the rest of the space held no real appeal for him when everything he wanted was living just across town. So, he told Hector and Vaughn (the only people concerned with the speed he moved in with) that Giana was scared to stay there alone for the time being, and had asked Les to move into her extra bedroom.

Unofficially, however, he spent every night curled around Gia's warm body. After that first night at her place when they'd been unable to fall asleep apart from each other, he'd found his way to her room every night and she welcomed him with a smile and his very own turndown service. That she needed him, the way he needed her, was a salve to his burdened soul.

Tara had proven to be worth her weight in gold. She was as gregarious and easy-going as she was whip-smart and intuitive; she seemed to gauge perfectly when Les needed levity in their conversations and allowed him as many small mental breaks as he needed. Their talks were getting progressively deeper, delving into topics he hadn't visited in decades and Lester found, more and more, that he was becoming exhausted by his sessions.

"It's emotionally draining," Tara had explained when he'd voiced his complaint. She'd sounded so reasonable that he'd closed his mouth immediately to hear what she had to say. "Talking about baggage you've been avoiding for years is like inviting an emotional vampire into your life; it saps your sensibilities and leaves you feeling overwhelmed and unable to process some things."

Lester's reply had been biting. "Oh, by all means, let's continue with it, then." He was being harsh, he knew, but every single session was spent talking about his grandfather's death and his mother's absence in his life and his reaction after Michelle cleaned him out…it was like a never-ending episode of the Lester's Worst Moments Show on repeat.

Tara's unwanning patience had persevered, however, and she'd smiled at him and recited the one thing that always reined him back in: "You're welcome to walk out that door any time, Les."

That, however, was a death sentence as far as Lester was concerned. Walking out the door meant disappointing Gia, and he'd gladly walk through fire before he would let her down again. And so he went, sometimes dutifully, always faithfully.

Giana, for her part, adored Tara. She went weekly and usually brought lunch in for the both of them. "She's like a fun, cool aunt who is always interested in what I have to say, Les," she'd gushed after a few appointments, and he'd smiled and hugged her, grateful for the grin Tara's sessions always put on Gia's face.

All of that notwithstanding, Lester still found himself secretly dreading today's session as he let himself into Tara's waiting room. Last week had been…well, brutal, for lack of a better term. Tara had grilled him, unrelentingly, on why it was that he had refused to contact his mother since abuelo's funeral. He'd gotten mad and paced the room, straining to keep himself put and not bolt like he wanted to, when Tara had looked at him passively and said, "Lester, I'm going to clue you in to something – I don't care what your answer is. Truthfully, it doesn't matter; what does matter is the 'why' of it. Why do you feel the way you feel, whatever that is? And that's a question we can't answer until you're ready to commit to this treatment and really talk about her."

With last week's parting words ringing in his head, Les folded his body down into the sofa and studiously ignored the hungry glances he was getting from the woman seated just across from him.

She was blond, pushing forty and trying desperately to look twenty. She preened and pushed her chest out whenever she thought Les might be looking her way and smiled seductively whenever his head moved slightly in her direction.

"Are you new?" Blondie asked, smiling sympathetically while eyeing him. "Tara's in with my son now, court ordered, you know how kids can be. I haven't seen you here before."

Lester sighed and rubbed his temples; Tara was really going owe him at least one get-out-of-jail-free card for this. He finally turned and met Blondie's eyes, his own eyes cold and uncaring and asked, "What days does your son come here?"

"Tuesdays," she breathed, her pupils dilating as she drank him in.

Lester turned to the receptionist. "I'd like to schedule my next appointment, please. Any day but Tuesday."

He was saved from Blondie's reaction when the door to Tara's office swung open and a sullen-looking teenager stomped out and headed straight out the door without bothering to wait for his mother. Blondie scurried after him, teetering on 6-inch heels and tugging desperately at the tiny shirt that left far too little to the imagination.

An agitated Lester slid past Tara as she held the door open for him, smiling in greeting. Like most sessions, she ignored his reticence and asked chipperly, "How are you today, Lester?"

"Oh, just super-fantastic," he mocked back, settling in his favorite chair. She had three; a very clinical looking chaise, an officious wingback chair wrapped in red leather so tight Les thought he'd bounce onto the floor if he sat in it too fast, and what he'd come to think of as 'his' chair – an overstuffed, wide armchair that sat low to the ground. He sank back against the plush cushions, doing his very best to convey how put-upon he felt today.

"Glad to hear it." Tara grinned at him, raising one eyebrow in challenge – she didn't bullshit, ever. If he said nothing was wrong, she was happy to proceed with her session.

"Tell me where your head has been since last week's visit," she prodded, flipping open her notebook and poising her pen to take notes.

When Lester remained silent, Tara raised her arm and glanced pointedly at her watch. "I've got about a million things to do that are more important than watching a 31 year old man pout in my armchair," she said drolly, a frown marring her usually pleasant expression. "You get out of this what you put into it, Lester. If you're going to sit and waste my time –"

"I've been short," he ground out. He had been, it was true – there were a few times Giana had looked at him with concern, and he'd done his best to smile and assure her that he was fine, but his week hadn't been smooth sailing.

"Because I pushed you to think about how your mother's absence affects you." Tara's voice was bold and knowing, and for a split second Lester hated her for being able to see into the worst parts of him, the ones he'd pushed down and away from his conscious thoughts.

"Yeah." His answer was short and clipped, and he was staring at his favorite spot in the carpet.

"How are things with Giana?" Tara, he was convinced, loved throwing people off their guard and she often changed tack at the oddest of times.

Lester smiled; finally, a topic worth discussing.

"She's great. Perfect. Amazing. Beautiful." His sullen attitude melted away and he leaned forward, engaged in the conversation. "We're doing well, I think. Really well. I'm still staying with her at her place and we're cohabitating well. We keep it light; we don't really get into the heavy stuff."

"You don't talk about the affair." Tara clarified, pen scribbling furiously.

"No. I don't speak to my girlfriend about the night I spent with two other women." Lester's voice was dry and unafflicted. Tara frowned, pen moving at warp speed.

"Still sleeping in the same bed?" Tara asked, eyes on her paper as she jotted down notes.

"Mmmhmm. My stuff is all in the spare room, but we sleep in her room at night. I don't want to be…presumptuous, I guess, and move my stuff into her room, and she hasn't asked, so I guess she's not ready for that."

Tara pounced on it. "And that worries you?'

Les frowned and considered her question. "Well…I mean, I guess it does. I hadn't thought about it, honestly."

"Yet you mentioned it right off the bat."

"Huh. I did. I don't know…I guess I wish we could take the next step, you know? I know that my…cheating had a serious effect on her and her trust in me. I just wish she was ready to move forward a little more."

"Do you resent her for being so hesitant?" Tara asked without looking at Lester, knowing that his reaction would be telling.

Les blanched and nearly shouted, "No! God no! I get it, I really do – if she initiates anything, you know, sexually, she risks it all rushing back. I don't want to try and touch her and have her mind go to those two women, Tara. I'd rather live like we're living forever than put her through that."

Tara smiled at Lester, the warmth in her expression unmistakable. "I know you would. The fact that you care for Giana has never been called into question, Les, and for the record, your desire to experience deeper levels of intimacy with her is healthy and good. You two haven't had any sexual contact, then?"

Lester fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair before asking, "Do I have to answer that?"

Tara tossed her head back and laughed, a real belly chuckle. It was surprisingly husky and pleasing to hear. "If I had a nickel…" she mused, winking at him. "I guess that answers my question. Have you attempted to initiate anything sexual, or has it just not been a factor yet?"

Les shrugged, rolling his neck around on his shoulders before conceding defeat and sighing. "No, I haven't tried anything. I keep thinking…I keep thinking that when she's ready, she'll let me know. You know?"

"You're afraid that she'll reject you." Tara's voice was so soft and matter-of-fact that Lester simply nodded in agreement.

"But that's only part of it," Tara guessed, settling back in her chair. "Want to tell me the other part?"

"I'm worried…I'm afraid," he clarified, glancing at Tara briefly, "that I'm not enough for her. Without the, you know, the sex. Without that, it's just me and her. How long is that going to be enough, Tara?"

He was whispering by the end, and the pain and uncertainty he felt was evident. Tara Weeks was a professional and a damn good counselor, but she was also human and a woman. She stood and moved to the red wingback chair and settled, resting her hand on his shoulder and patting him soothingly.

"You are worth more than the sum total of your sexual experiences, Lester Santos. You are going to have to learn not to rely on sex to speak for you. You've used it as a distraction for years. It was a crutch for you to avoid dealing with other issues, and you've associated it with how you value yourself. If you want Giana, and you want happiness with her, you and I are going to need to figure out another way for you to communicate with her."

She smiled and sat back in the chair, gesturing toward him. "Every time you visit me, you sit in the overstuffed armchair. Why?"

Les lifted one shoulder before saying, "I dunno. It's comfortable."

"The chaise is comfortable, too. Why not the red wingback?" Tara's smile was soft, knowing as she guided him through her questions.

"It's stiff. I feel like I'm sitting on a table." Lester's confusion was clear, and Tara allowed herself a small chuckle.

"You chose the soft, comfortable chair that you sink into. You're comfortable here, with me, Santos. You like it here. You may not like what I say to you or how I push you sometimes, but you like being here. I'd like to think that it's because of my winning personality, but I'd venture a guess that you see being here with me as a way to please Giana. You speak the language of love better than you think, my friend. And that," she waved her hand toward the clock, pushing herself to standing, "is all the time we have today. I want you to think about this until next week: what do you have to offer Giana, besides your body?"

Tara's question weighted heavily on Lester's mind as he wrapped up his four hour monitors shift. It echoed unpleasantly, rattling around inside of him; what do I have to offer Gia besides sex?

There should be an obvious answer; he may not be well-versed in mental health, but he'd seen enough family sitcoms to know that a person should be able to think of at least a few things that were worthwhile about themselves. That he couldn't was upsetting, to say the least.

He left RangeMan and headed for the grocery store, where he wandered the aisles and dropped things at random into his buggy. His mind was miles away, and the self-doubt that had been gnawing at him all day was gaining momentum. He was, in a word, sad. The outlook on his relationship was grim to begin with, and to heap this on top of it was consuming him. He needed a break; hell, he needed a drink.

He made his way to Giana's house and spent the next hour on the back patio, sipping beer and thinking quietly to himself. What can I offer her besides a few orgasms?He was coming up blank, and it terrified him.

He stood and made his way to the kitchen, mindful of the time and the fact that Gia would be home within the hour. Quickly, he threw together two subs and set them under the broiler to toast. Giana liked toasted subs; he thought it would please her to have them for dinner. You're avoiding the issue, Santos, his subconscious ribbed him. You've put more thought into dinner than Tara's question.

That line of thought was interrupted by Giana's arrival. She looked fresh and sweet, despite having worked a full eight hours today. Her hair was rolled into an elegant top knot and she'd just applied lip gloss, from the looks of it. She was so beautiful she made Lester's heart swell and ache in his chest as she bounded over to him and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Hey! How was your day? Did you see Tara this morning?" she asked, turning her back to him to hang her purse and peek in the oven. "You made subs! Thank you, it smells wonderful!"

As she prattled on about the details of her day, Lester felt his mind wandering. The natural ebb and flow of their conversation was fairly easy to latch onto, and for the most part Giana only had the slightest of impressions that his mind was a million miles away. What can I offer this woman?

After dinner, Les suggested they watch the latest episode of their favorite TV show, just to give Gia a distraction that would keep his secret safe for a while longer. What what what….

As their evening wound down, Lester quietly set the alarm and bid Giana a quick goodnight as she sat returning an email from Charlene. He made his way down the hall toward the bedrooms and, hesitating only a moment, let himself into the guest room. It was neat as a pin, evidence that Lester spend very little time in here. With a sigh and a heavy heart, Les pulled his shirt off and shucked his pants before pulling on a pair of soft cotton sleeping shorts and sliding between the sheets. He settled back against the pillow, closed his eyes, and waited.

He didn't have to wait long. Less than five minutes later, there was a soft knock and then the door was pushed open, revealing a concerned looking Giana.

"Les?" she asked softly, taking a hesitant step into the room. "Are you…sleeping in here?"

Lester gulped and answered her in a low voice. "Yeah. I thought you might need some space." He paused, closed his eyes and continued. "I thought we might need some space."

He didn't open his eyes to see her reaction, and a few moments later he felt the mattress dip under her weight as she settled next to him. One warm, impossibly soft hand settled on his bicep before she spoke.

"Please, talk with me. I can tell that something's upset you; is it something I can help with?"

Lester blew out a long breath before opening his eyes and turning his gaze to hers. Concern, love, and a small bit of hurt shone clearly from her face, and it only served to deepen his reverie. What can I offer her?

When he didn't respond, Giana stood and began removing her shoes and jeans before pulling her thin sweater over her head and dropping it onto the floor. Clad in boyshorts and a cami, she slid between the sheets next to Lester and curled her body around his. Not a word was spoken between them until she was settled with her head nestled in the crook of his arm, and then she whispered, "Did you have a rough session today? Something you're upset over?"

When he only shrugged, Giana squeezed him tighter and lay there unmoving. Their breathing, Lester noted, was in sync; it was a random thing to notice and oddly, made him feel the tiniest bit better.

After a time, Gia began gently stroking him -first his arm, then his chest. When his skin broke out into chill bumps, she trailed her fingernails softly along his sternum to the top ridges of his abs, back and forth, her touch reverent and achingly soft. She leaned forward, slowly, painstakingly, until Lester felt her lips press against the top of his bicep. He shuddered and exhaled in a great gust of air before closing his eyes.

The intimacy between them hadn't waned, not really; it was more like it had morphed into something more cautious. The passionate kisses and fevered groping was replaced by sweet, loving looks and tender hugs. Any kisses after that first morning in Bobby's apartment had been few and far between, and always a bit hesitant. Their relationship, it seemed, was balanced on the edge of a knife and neither were willing to upset it.

When Lester didn't protest or move to further her advances, Giana pressed onward. The first soft peck was replaced with a wetter, longer kiss and the pressure of her fingernails on Lester's skin increased slightly. She moved her mouth an inch closer to his chest and was rewarded with the barest of undulations, his hips moving unconsciously against the mattress. She moved another inch and Lester's breath hitched in his throat; suddenly, this seemed like the most magnificent idea of all time – if Lester wouldn't speak to her, she would let their bodies do the talking.

It wasn't as though she was dead below the waist; far from it. Watching him tiptoe around her, so careful and considerate these past weeks, soothed her battered ego. He was a physical being and a passionate lover, and that made his new unassuming approach to their relationship as sweet as anything she'd ever experienced. She had run the emotional gamut a dozen times over when considering what their future held, and a big part of that was worrying about the physical act of love. With Lester, it had always been bigger than life; a manifestation of the heat and the gentle need for him, erupting in a fireball of that consumed both of them. Her fear mirrored his – that their love life would be marred beyond recognition in the wake of his affair.

Now, though, seeing him in obvious turmoil…all her earlier fears melted away and it was just them again. There was nothing in the world right now, save for Lester and the way his skin tasted and felt against her lips. Her kisses against his chest became harder, more lingering as her hand skated lower and lower against his taut stomach. When her mouth closed around his pebbled nipple and her tongue danced over him, Lester arched and whimpered, clenching his muscles tightly.

Gratified and made drunk with the power of making such a man cry out in longing, Giana slid her fingers beneath the waistband of his shorts while raising herself up on her elbow to face Lester.

His face was awash with emotion – lust and love where there, alongside a fearful look that gave Giana momentary pause.

"Please, Gia…you don't – " She silenced him with a kiss, pressing her lips against. She slid her tongue into his mouth in the same instant she slid her hand into his shorts, gripping his erection in her hand. The movements of her tongue, spearing and retreating, synched with the speed with which she stroked him and for a glorious few moments, Giana felt whole and right.

Then Lester bit back another cry and she snapped her head back, aware that this was no impassioned moan. The look on his face was one of despair and reluctant surrender, and it hurt her to her core. He was softening in her hand, an event so singular that she was instantly distracted by it; never had Les had any trouble with his sexual stamina. If anything, she sometimes wished he were less virile.

"Baby?" she whispered, her voice filled with concern as she took in this perfectly imperfect man in the throes of some great tumult.

Lester could only close his eyes and shake his head, slowly. "I'm sorry," he whispered before he rolled onto his side, away from Gia.

Realization slowly crept in and Giana realized that whatever had just happened had been much bigger than some thwarted nookie. Horrified at her behavior, she curled her body around Lester's just as he had done to hers so many recent nights.

"I am so, so sorry, Les. I thought….I thought I could make you feel better. I was wrong." Shame made her face burn hot, and she was grateful that whatever turmoil he was trapped in at least allowed her to hold him. She shuddered to think how it would affect her if he pushed her away or worse, demanded she leave his bed.

They spent the night sleeping fitfully. Any time Les shifted or turned, Gia jolted back awake and began patting him and arranging his covers, doing her level best to comfort him. They didn't speak, but they didn't need to; Lester reached for her and pulled her close to him each time he woke, placing gentle kissed on her head before dozing back off into a restless sleep. In the midst of their chaos, beauty and love reigned.

The day dawned, far too early, and they dragged themselves from the bed reluctantly. They made their way to the kitchen, saying very little but falling into the comfortable routine they'd adopted. Gia measured and brewed the coffee while Lester added granola and nuts to their yogurt, topping Giana's with a generous dollop of honey, the way he knew she liked it. Gia added the requisite four sugars to Lester's mug before they met at the table and ate in silence, each trying to offer the other reassuring smiles before glancing back down into their breakfast.

Afterwards, they showered separately. Giana wandered into the guest bathroom, her hair still damp, just as Les was finishing up shaving. It was a mundane little thing, but Gia loved the intimacy and the overall manliness of it. With a smirk, Les pounced and pressed a quick kiss against her cheek, smearing her face with the remnants of his shaving cream. Something inside her relaxed and she offered him her first genuine smile of the day; smearing her with his shaving cream was something they'd done 'before'. That he remembered it comforted her and gave her the courage to press the reason she'd sought him out in the first place.

"I'm seeing Tara this morning. I'd really like for you to come, Les. Last night…" here she blushed and lowered her face from his, shame creeping into her voice. "…I'm so sorry about last night. I misread the situation and I would never, ever want to put you in such an…awkward position –"

"Hey," Lester cut her off and tipped her chin up with one finger, his eyes searching hers, imploring her to hear him. "Don't apologize, please. The fact that you felt comfortable enough to make that move was…Jesus, I can't even find words for how incredible it made me feel. I loved that you tried, Gia, I truly did." Lester took a step back and leaned against the wall opposite where Gia sat perched and frowned. "I was just in a…bad head space, I guess. Tara made me feel sort of…unsure about some stuff and I just wasn't in a place where I could give that to you. I'm sorry."

Giana slid off the sink and floated over to Les, gliding straight into his waiting arms and pressing herself into his chest. He enveloped her immediately, a satisfied sigh breaking the quiet in the room. "Come with me," she whispered, squeezing him gently. When he didn't answer, she added, "Please?"

With a grunt, he returned her squeeze and said, "All right. What time?"

Once they were settled in Tara's office, pressed against each other's sides on her couch, the smiling counselor sat opposite them in the shiny red leather chair.

"Good morning to the both of you! Any particular reason you decided to make this a joint session?"

With a shared glance, Gia began. She told how Les had been distant all evening, how he'd gone to bed in the spare room without her, her attempt at soothing him and the fitful night's sleep they got together in bed.

At the end of her ten minute explanation, Tara looked exceedingly smug. Lester broke his silence and growled, "What the hell are you so happy about?"

Tara only chuckled when Gia gasped and slapped his knee while shooting him a warning glare. "Les," she began, waving off Gia's apology, "may I share what we spoke about in yesterday's session with Giana?"

Lester stared at her contemplatively before nodding and shifting his gaze toward the expansive windows in her office, focusing on the view of the trees her office faced. Tara was wrapping up her quick synopsis by telling Gia about the question she'd posed him – what did he have to offer her besides his body?

With a gasp, Giana raised her hand to cover her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. "And then I tried to fix our problem with sex." Her voice reflected the disgust that shown clearly in her face. "I'm so ashamed; that must have made you feel so awful, baby." The last part was whispered through her fingers, eyes still shut tight.

"No." Lester's voice was firm and left no room for argument. "You don't apologize for that. You loved me enough to push through this wall we've had up since I moved in with you. You didn't hesitate to offer me something so precious and you did it to selflessly; don't ever apologize for that."

Tara cleared her throat, earning herself a glare from Lester for her trouble. "If I may," she said, gently steering them back toward the topic at hand. "I think last night was a huge milestone in your relationship, guys. I'm immensely proud of what occurred."

When Les snorted and rolled his eyes, earning another swat from Giana, Tara chuckled and continued. "Even though you had no answers for the problems you were facing, no solutions whatsoever…you stayed with each other. You stuck it out and comforted each other, supporting the other the entire night even though it seemed bleak. That is the crux of any strong relationship - relying on each other when there are no good answers and trusting the other person to see you through it. Well done."

After encouraging them to use this incident as a jumping off point for a more candid, real conversation, Tara bid them farewell and sent them on their way.

The rest of their day was spent together, just them. Lester went offline while Giana turned her cell off after shooting a quick text to her brother, letting him know she'd be unavailable for the foreseeable future. They walked for hours around the trails near the park and talked until Giana called 'Uncle', wincing with each step she took as she made her way back to the car. Les scooped her up and settled her against his chest, smiling in triumph as she sighed and snuggled into his embrace, remembering the words she'd said to him not an hour before.

"What do you have to offer me besides sex?" Giana had asked, rolling her eyes as though the answer should be the most obvious thing in the world. "We've spent the past month connecting and loving and living in the same space. You've been accepting and patient and supportive and I have felt so, so loved and cherished, every minute of every day. You've made me understand what 'happily ever after' is supposed to look like, Lester, and you did all of that without making love to me a single time. You've offered me the very best of yourself, which was easy, and you've also given me the worst of yourself, which was much harder for you…but I'm here. I know it all, and I'm here in spite of that because I love you and I want a life with you."

With that sentiment echoing and ringing through the depths of his soul, Lester slowly made his way to the car, relishing every second that he held this beautiful creature in his arms and offering up a prayer of thanks for a second chance at happiness.

Back at home, they moved together in the kitchen. Their movements were practiced and fluid, born of dozens of meals prepared over the past month, but tonight there was an element of electricity in the air. Lester kept sneaking glances at Gia and was pleased to see her sneaking just as many as him. She brushed against him quite a bit more than usual, and he enjoyed finding excuses to let his fingers graze her arms and the back of her neck.

Hours later, with dinner eaten and a bottle of wine shared while they cuddled and whispered sweet nothings to each other, Gia stood and stretched. "I'm all in. Are you…will you sleep in my room tonight?" She asked him her question shyly, smiling sweetly while the tips of her ears turned pink. Les smiled and assured her that he would, kissing her sweetly before sending her off to the bedroom while he locked up.

Upon entering Giana's bedroom, he was immediately aware of the sound of the shower running. He stood, frozen in place and frowning while he chewed on his lip, images of Gia last night in the guest bedroom assaulting him as he debated whether or not to act on the steadily growing desire to close the final inches of the gap that remained between them.

Moments later, Lester found himself standing in her steamy bathroom, naked and faltering. This could set them back, it could destroy the headway he'd made in earning her trust and forgiveness…but some small, insistent part of him urged him forward. He ghosted up to the frosted glass door and opened it quietly, stepping inside with Gia and shutting it behind him.

She stood, facing the wall while the water pounded over her and completely aware, Les was sure, that he was standing behind her.

Shoring up the last vestiges of his courage, Lester closed the space between them, sliding his arms around her slippery waist and resting his lips in the sweet crease of her neck.

"Tell me to go," he begged, offering her an avenue of escape while silently begging her to let him stay.

Gia turned slowly in his arms and nailed him with her stare. Lester felt the impact of that look; it grounded and weakened him, made him feel freer than any wild bird and more kept than any caged beast.

"Stay," she whispered, and there, amidst the pounding, steamy shower he shared with the great love of his life, Lester Santos found his salvation.

The water pouring over them as they made slow, sweet love was Baptismal and cleansing. Lester could feel his soul relieved of the burden and the shame he carried, whisked away by Giana's love and acceptance and sucked down the drain. He felt clean, and whole, and at long last, worthy.

*A/n: I'm still working on this genealogy project - let me tell you, my people were some BREEDERS. Yeesh. It's taken up most of my free time, which is why this chapter is later than the others have been.

I also feel compelled to share that the next chapter will be the final one for this story. I've had this knocking around in my head for the better part of a year, it's taken me 6 months to write it, so I feel good about where I plan to end it.

Thank you for the reviews, they fuel the desire to write and are currently the most treasured correspondence I receive.