Author's Note: I hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday season! No warnings for this chapter, I don't think. Thank you for reading - hope you're enjoying the story!

January 11, 1974, 4:45 pm

Sandy Parker's car, somewhere between Chicago and Hohman

Jane's eyes hurt. Two days of crying would do that. She'd only managed to pull herself together ten minutes before Sandy and the kids picked her up at her hotel, though she knew that Sandy knew what was going on just from the sad smile and long, tight hug Sandy greeted her with. God only knew how she kept herself together through that. Now she stared out the window of the passenger's side of Sandy and Ralphie's car, wishing that the kids happy chatter would drown out Flick's voice in her head.

Wishing, but apparently, her wishes had no power whatsoever.

"He's not here, Jane. He must have left without saying anything to me. I'm sorry. But I should tell you…your husband was here the other day. He must have been following you and Schwartz, because he knew what was going on. He and Schwartz…they got into it. A fight. And your husband's in jail. Schwartz is okay. Just a little banged up. But he knows you're still married, and I gotta tell you, Jane, you broke his heart."

You broke his heart, Jane. The sentence had been running on loop in her mind ever since she'd called the Tavern. She'd called his house the next day around dinner time, but Paul had already left the house. She'd called the Tavern again, but Flick told her he wasn't there, though she wasn't sure she believed him.

Jane, you broke his heart.

Of course she had. She'd lied. Not in the way he thought. Not about anything other than her marital status. Certainly not about how she felt about him. But how was he supposed to know that?

And Ken had hurt him. Her sweet Paul.

Maybe not hers anymore.

Maybe she didn't deserve him to be hers. That was probably true.

And God, what to do about Ken? She'd managed to convince her parents of the truth. The pictures had done it. Not before they'd led him to Hohman, however.

To Paul.

Jane, you broke his heart.

Her eyes filled with tears again. She blinked rapidly to try to dry them out. The cornfields she stared at blurred even so.

"Hey, Jane?"

She didn't turn to look at Sandy, because a few tears had fallen. "Yeah?"

"If you need to talk…the kids aren't paying any attention to us at all."

Jane was certain that Sandy knew what was going on. Even as kids, Ralphie had not been able to keep a secret, and really, it wasn't a secret. Of course he'd told his wife what happened. She turned to look at Sandy, not caring if Sandy saw her tears. "I know you must think I'm awful for…keeping something so huge from Paul. But there's a reason I lied about my marriage. I didn't lie just to lie. I had to…I thought I had to. I thought it would keep…" She closed her eyes. As grateful as she was to Sandy for everything she was doing for her, she shouldn't be the first person Jane told the truth to. "I would tell you, Sandy, but I need to tell Paul first." She looked back out the window. "If he'll speak to me."

"I think he will." Sandy smiled reassuringly at her before turning back to the road. "It's obvious how much he cares about you. This is just a bump in the road."

Jane wiped furiously at her eyes. "You're optimistic."

"I am. It's one of the best things about me."

Despite herself, Jane returns Sandy's smile.

"Let me ask you this. Do you believe that what you have is real?"

Jane nods, doesn't even have to think before she speaks. "The most real thing I've ever known."

Sandy nods as she watches the road. "Okay, then. Put faith in it. Put faith in him and put faith in you." She turns a smile. "Someone quite brilliant told me that once when I needed to hear it, and he was right. And someday…" She glanced over her shoulder at Julie and Mark, who were both engrossed in the game they were playing together. "When my children aren't with us, I'll tell you the story. And just who it was who told me that."

To Jane, it seemed that Sandy's eyes danced when she said that, and she wondered what it meant. But her words did sooth some of the ache inside her chest, just enough that she could push back the tears. And maybe…maybe Sandy was right. For as fast as everything had happened between her and Paul, she knew as sure as she breathed that it was right. That it was what was supposed to be. She'd just have to believe in it. She'd go home, talk to Paul, tell him him the truth, and things would work out.

Because it just had to.

"Thanks, Sandy. For everything."

Sandy smiled. "Anytime. Although, in return, can you tell me about this Scut Farkas thing? Did Ralph really beat him up?"

Jane laughed. "Oh, yes. He really did. I wasn't there, but my older sister was, and she told me all about it. It was legendary."

"Please. Tell me everything your sister told you."

And this piqued the kids' interest. Mark leaned forward, followed by Julie. "Yes! Tell us about it!"

"Please!"

Jane laughed again, and nodded. "Okay. Okay. Let me just try to remember. Well, your dad was in a bad mood because he'd gotten a C plus on his Christmas theme..."

Flick's Tavern, 7:30 pm

Jane stood in front of the door to Flick's Tavern for ten minutes. Shivering. People came out, people went in, and still, she stood. She knew that Paul was in there. She'd asked one of the people coming out. Her nerves were shot. She remembered once – it seemed so long ago now – that he'd told her she was the kind of person who wasn't afraid to go after what she wanted. Would he say that now if he saw her here, cowering before the door? She wanted him, absolutely she did, but she was afraid to go in.

So damn afraid.

The door opened and Ron, Paul's shuffleboard partner, walked out. He stopped short and suddenly, probably surprised to see her. She did her best to smile, but it felt more like a wince.

"Jane. You're here."

"I am."

Ron nodded, a little sloppily. He'd obviously been drinking for awhile, and he frowned in the way only slightly drunk people can, with a seriousness that is both comic and heartfelt. "You should go in and talk to Schwartz. He's upset."

"Because of me."

Ron's frown grew deeper, and he shook his head. "No. 'Cause you ain't there. Although you are here, now, so..." He stared at her, and then gave a slight smile. "Go on. He's waiting for you. He'll pretend he ain't, but he is." He frowned. "Your husband is a jerk."

Jane had to laugh at that. "Yes. Yes, he is." She reached out and straightened the crooked hat on Ron's head. "Thanks."

Ron gave a brilliant smile. "Sure thing, Jane." He cocked his head. "Schwartzy is right. You do have a pretty laugh. You should do it more often." He winked at her.

Just for him, Jane laughed again. She patted Ron's shoulder. "Thanks, Ron. Okay. I'm going in."

"Go get him!"

She took a deep breath and took a step closer to the door. She could see Paul sitting at the bar, his head bowed. Flick stood in front of him, saying something to him that Jane prayed soothed him. Her hands trembled, her stomach turned over and over and over, but there was no turning back. Put faith in him. Put faith in you

She opened the door and walked into the alcove, and then pulled open the second door into the bar. Her eyes immediately landed on Paul, but he didn't look up. Her heart stopped. Her feet stopped. Even from the ten feet she stood away from him, she could see his left eye was black. She could see that his lip was cut, and his cheek bruised.

Her eyes filled with tears. She'd done this to him just as much as Ken had.

Flick caught her eye, gave her a warm smile, and nodded his head toward Paul.

Paul noticed where Flick's attention had gone, and he turned to look at her. She couldn't read his expression, but her heart sank to see the bruising and a cut on his right cheek as well. He broke their connection and looked at his beer. She took a deep breath and approached him. "Can I sit here?"

"Free country."

The one thing that gave her hope was the way he was breathing. Unsteadily. Quickly. And she noticed his fingers tensing and releasing as they wrapped around his empty beer glass. She tried to sound flirtatious. "Can I buy you a drink?"

He didn't react at all. Didn't even blink. So she pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. Up close, the bruising was even worse. Blues and blacks and purples and the dark red of clotted blood on his lips. She couldn't quite reign in the tears, and a few fell to her cheeks "Are you okay?"

"Sure."

She wanted to touch him, to take his hand like she'd done before and make it all better for him. Her arm jerked slightly as if to do exactly that, but then her brain reminded her that it wasn't a good idea. More tears fell, just a few, hot on her face. "I'm sorry, Paul," she said. "I'm so sorry."

He nodded, but still didn't look at her. Still didn't say anything.

"Can we talk?"

"Say whatever you want to say, Janey." He cleared his throat. "Or should I say Esther Jane? Wait, maybe you prefer Mrs. Carson."

It was a stab to her heart, and more tears flooded her eyes, but she held them back. She inched her body slightly closer to his, just enough there was a hint of touch between their shoulders, and when he didn't recoil or even move in response, she took it as a victory. "Not here. Can we go somewhere else?"

Finally, he turned to look at her, and she instinctively backed away from him. It wasn't the same sort of anger she'd always seen in Ken's eyes, but an even worse kind, she thought, one blended so well with hurt that the edge of the anger had all been dulled away. It was the look of someone with a broken heart.

She was certain her own looked the same, and maybe so, because Paul's expression faltered for just a moment. His brow furrowed as if what he saw in her worried him, as if he wanted to comfort her. But only the briefest of moments, and then his resolve returned. "Why? I have no secrets from these people."

"I do."

Bitterness replaced the pain both on his face and in his voice. He slid off the chair and gave her a look that curdled her heart. "I know. Your husband filled me in on some of them." He stalked across the room to one of the empty booths against the wall and sat down, still looking at his glass as if had magic enough to fix the entire mess.

She stood up and followed him, slid into the booth across from him. "I can explain."

His smile brimmed with sarcasm. "Everyone says that."

"I can. I just don't want to do it here. Can't we please just go to my apartment?"

He looked up at her, and now, his eyes looked cold. Empty. Like he felt absolutely nothing for her.

"Right here is my best offer, Jane. Take it or leave it."

She shivered.

And then a flame of her own anger lit and heated her up surprisingly quickly. Her cheeks burned, but so did the blood in her veins. She stood up. "Fine. I'll leave it."

She walked away as quickly as she could, her eyes flooded so her sight was blurred, and yet, just as she reached the end of the bar closest to the front door, she saw Flick standing there and looking at her. He looked the saddest she had ever seen him look.

"Jane, wait."

Despite her head telling her to keep going, to just leave and forget it all, forget Paul, and that someday she'd get over him, her body stopped.

"Don't give up on him."

"He's clearly given up on me." Still, she drifted toward the bar. Maybe Flick could say something, to tell her what to do. He knew Paul better than anyone.

Flick reached out to grip her hand. "No, he hasn't. Otherwise he wouldn't be here." He grinned. "And he wouldn't be watching you this very second."

Jane glanced back over her shoulder, and sure enough, Paul stared at her. Just as she started to smile, he turned his head toward the wall.

"He knew you'd come here looking for him. That's what he was hoping for. That's why he's here. He's just being stubborn." He squeezed her hand, then let it go. "Don't walk out on him. That's what he's most afraid of. Push him. He'll give." He smiled. "Go on. You know what to do."

And it came to her, an idea of how to break through and make it impossible for Paul to say no. She smiled back at Flick, thanking him in her heart for inspiring her, and turned back to where Paul sat. She took a few steps, got herself about halfway there, and then raised her voice so he'd hear her from the distance and over the chatter of the other folks there. "Hey, Schwartz!"

Paul looked at her, clearly startled, and the rest of the bar went quiet. Jane was aware that she may as well be on a stage, and she stiffened her spine.

"What?" he said.

"I triple dog dare you to come with me." She grinned and took another few steps. Only a few feet separated them, and his eyes never left her. "And I have a bar full of witnesses." She gestured with her arm and looked around. "Don't I?"

"Yeah!"

"Sure do!"

"Aww, go on, Schwartz!"

Paul looked around the room, and to Jane's relief, amusement replaced the anger on his face. His cheeks turned a bit pink, and when he looked at her, he seemed a little bit bewildered. "I...what?"

She smiled again, cocked her head slightly. "You heard me." She closed the distance and now they were only two feet apart, and she looked down at him. "Don't tell me you're going to back out of a triple dog dare."

He stared at her, glanced around a little bit, then sighed and met her eyes, just the hint of a smile on his lips. "Fine." He got out of the booth and stood in front of her. "Lets go."

They headed toward the front door. "I'm driving," she said.

"Why?"

"So you can't get away."

He chuckled and stopped to pull his coat off the back of the bar stool he'd abandoned. As he put it on, he looked at her. "Janey…"

She watched him, her heart paused, as he seemed to try to find the words he wanted to say.

"I'm just…" He looked down, but then at her again. "I'm glad you came back."

She took a step closer to him, and nervously, reached up to touch his jaw, just underneath the bruising, just her fingertips and very gingerly. "Of course I came back. This is my home." She took a deep breath. "You're my home, Paul." It amazed her, left her trembling, when he turned his face and kissed her fingertips, but almost immediately, his eyes clouded over again. He pulled back and dropped his gaze to the floor. It wouldn't be that easy. Just a few words and a touch wasn't going to fix this. "Just…please let me explain everything to you."

Paul raised his eyes to meet hers. "Everything? No lies?"

Her stomach sank, because telling him everything meant he might look at her differently. He might see what Ken saw, the stupid girl who wasn't worth anything, let alone love. It was a risk she'd have to take, because she couldn't let Paul keep hurting the way he so obviously was. "Everything. No lies. I promise you that," she said.

He nodded, took a deep breath, then took her hand. "Okay, then. Let's go."