With the possible news of FR only returning for one episode, I have decided to write my own ending for the couple. It follows some of the new spoilers for season 3. For the Getty Girls. Here we go….

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Betty unlatched the lock to her apartment and carried her groceries inside. She turned the cd player next to the door on as quickly as possible. Over a month of living on her own, she had still not gotten used to a quiet home. She was excited to go home and have dinner with her family the next night. Ignacio had promised to make empanadas.

She felt like she could use a comforting empanada now. As much as she knew it had been the right decision to move out on her own six weeks ago, life did not completely feel right. She did not like to admit that one name kept ringing in her ears. One face appeared in the darkness of her closed eyes every night. Gio. Gio Rossi. Sandwich Guy. Rebound Guy. The Guy. Gio. More and more lately, she was replaying their final moments together the day of the baseball game.

They were sitting in Gio's apartment. Betty lamented that the first time she had been there was to have this conversation. Her hands were in her knees and she was looking down as she sat on his couch. She said, "I'm sorry about today, Gio."

Sitting about a foot away from her, he rubbed his shaved head and sighed. "Yeah, me too."

Taking a breath, she said, "I should have told you that Henry was here. I was just afraid. I needed time to think."

Still and stoic, he just looked away from her and said, "Yeah."

"But when I got knocked out today, I realized what I need to do," she said, her hands moving in front of her now as she looked at him. "I want to go to Rome with you, Gio."

In a voice just above a whisper, he said, "No."

Her heart stopped and she prayed that his response was similar to when she had asked him out the night of the junior high dance. She hoped that he had not meant this declination. "What?"

He looked into her eyes, tears forming in his. "I can forgive you for not telling me about Henry, Betty. But I can't get over why you didn't tell me."

Her brow wrinkled. "I don't understand."

"I told you that I didn't want to be your rebound guy. You knew that when you decided to date me." He leaned closer to her, his voice pained. "But you agreed to go to Rome with me when at least part of your heart was willing to go with Henry."

Pleading, she grabbed his hands. "But I'm choosing you now!"

His voice cracked. "It's too late."

"No." Her throat began to close. "No, it can't be too late."

Pulling his hands from beneath hers, he said, "I love you, Betty. More than I've ever loved anyone else. But if we're together, I'll always wonder if you ever feel the same way. And that's not fair to either of us."

Betty stood up, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "So that's it? After all of this, after everything you've told me, everything we've felt, you're just going to end it? You're just going to leave?"

His breath was shaky. "I know what I want from you, Betty. I want everything. But I don't know what you want from me. And I don't think we should be together until then."

Choking back tears, she asked, "And when is that?"

A tear fell down Gio's cheek. "I don't know. Maybe we weren't supposed to work out." Standing up, he moved towards her, but she backed away.

"Goodbye, Gio," she said quietly before rushing out of the room. As the door closed behind her, she heard a raspy "Goodbye, Betty" behind her.

A few days later, she had decided that it was time for her to move on, grow up. She wasn't going to Rome. She wasn't going to Tucson, but she could still make a move.

For the most part, she loved living on her own. She was completely independent and knew she could handle everything on her own if she had too. But something had been missing for six weeks. As much as she tried to get over Gio, she could not. For the past month, she would wake up from dreams of them in Italy, of them making love, of them being together.

Lying on her couch, she read her book and listened to the soft jazz that spilled from the stereo speakers. She couldn't help but imagine her and Gio on the rooftop of the Blue Note dancing to the tune, holding each other close. Her chest felt tight and she closed the book involuntarily. Her eyes darted over to the phone sitting on the coffee table. Sucking in a deep breath, she dialed the cell phone number she knew by heart and waited. When it went to voicemail, part of her was relieved while another was devastated.

She closed her eyes, stood up, and started to pace. When the phone beeped, she took another breath and let the words that had been trapped deep within her fall. "Hi, it's Betty. Uh, I don't know if you're back from Rome yet or not. It's been more than a month, but I've been too afraid to walk by your deli to check. I hope you made it home safely. Bye!" she ended cheerfully. But as she was about to hang up the phone, she grimaced and kept talking. "Look, I miss you. I have missed you since the day I left your apartment. And if I had known then what I do now…I would have never let Henry stay. I would have told him immediately that I couldn't marry him. I would have told you what was going on. And I would have told you that I wasn't ready to move on and go to Rome with you."

Overwhelmed, tears threatened to escape, but she said, "But now I've had time. And I've moved on. And I wish so badly that I could have moved on with you. I'm sorry we didn't get that chance, Gio." She cried softly now as she finally said, "You were the guy. You are the guy. I'm just sorry I didn't realize it sooner. Goodbye."

She dropped the phone to the couch, letting it bounce on the cushions. Undressing, she got in the shower and let the water wash over all of the pain and disappointment of the past year. When she went to bed that night, she promised herself that the rest of the year would be better, that she would make it better.

A couple days passed and she did not hear from him. She assumed that he was either still in Rome or was choosing to ignore her. Either way, she tried not to let it bother her, even though it did. She sat at her kitchen table that night, eating pasta her father had made for her. Loud music began blaring from across the hall. Rolling her eyes, she grumbled, "Damn it, Jesse." She loved her new apartment, but her new neighbor was annoying and loud—and not in the ways that excited her about Gio.

Bolting from her chair, she stomped through the room and was about to open the door and run across the hall to yell at him. When the door flew open, who she saw made her fall back a step and gasp. "Gio!"

His eyes were warm as he smiled slightly at her. His hands were clasped in front of him like a nervous young boy. "Hey."

Her eyes were wide as she asked, "What are you doing here?"

He studied her face, saying quietly, "I got your message."

Her eyes dropped to the floor. "Oh."

He took a small step closer. Urgency in his voice, he said, "Did you mean what you said?"

She contemplated playing it off and trying to be cool, but instead, her eyes locked with his. "Of course I did. Every word."

He let out an uncontrollable groan before he reached out and grabbed the back of her head. Pulling her to him, he kissed her, his lips searching frantically and passionately for what he had been missing for six weeks.

Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck and she let her tongue dip into his mouth. She wanted to know that he was real, that he was there, loving her. She wanted to love him back equally.

Finally, he pulled away from her far enough to say in a rough voice, "Damn, I missed you."

She cried out softly, "I missed you, too."

He put one hand on her waist, letting his other hand fidget with her hair. "I don't need to have another long conversation. I don't need any more apologies or explanations. I just want you, Betty."

Her heart nearly collapsed within her chest and she hurried to kiss him again. After a while, she guided him out of the doorway and into the living room. Holding his hand, she asked, "Are you sure? Everything is okay?"

He squeezed her hand and looked at her reassuringly. "My heart was broken when I left you six weeks ago. I didn't take the time to think about what you were going through. I never gave you time to heal, Betty. I'm sorry for that."

Shaking her head, she smiled. "I don't need an apology either."

His forehead scrunched as he looked past her, saying, "Hey, do I smell pasta?"

She grinned. "You do, but I'm not hungry for that anymore."

His eyebrow cocked. "You're not?"

"No." She gave him a shove to the chest, pushing him towards the back of the room. "You really need a tour of my apartment. Here's the bedroom."

He chuckled, saying, "What a really nice place you've got."

With her lips just above his, she whispered, "Here ends the tour."

When she started to unbutton his shirt, he said, "You're the best damn tour guide I've met all month."

Her fingers stopped at his last button and she glanced up at him. "I'm so glad you're home, Gio. I'm happy you came back."

He took her hands in his, knowing that she meant she was glad he had come back to her. "I'll always come back, Betty. I love you."

As they went down towards the bed together, she said, "I love you, too."

….never the end…