It's been a while, but here's the next chapter. Thank you for still reading and responding! :)
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"Do you want to talk about it?" Daniel asked as Betty eventually quieted. She shook her head. "I'm fine," she told him, upset with herself for letting him see her this way. She needed to clear her head. Being near Daniel made her lose her inhibitions; forget that she seriously needed to think about letting him go. He didn't deserve to be deprived of something he'd wanted for so long. He deserved everything . . .
"Betty, don't lie to me. I found you here, broken down – you're not fine – you're a wreck. Tell me what's wrong – let me help you!" he pleaded. "Nothing, okay? Now can you pull me up and let me get ready for bed? I'm just tired," she snapped.
"It's what those jackass reporters said, isn't it? Damn it! I should've taken them down! You were so great, I didn't see past that to realize how much it must have hurt you . . ." Daniel assumed, as he lifted Betty up from the shower floor and held her in his arms. God, he felt so good, so warm and comforting – no! She needed to focus – it wasn't about her. And his protectiveness just made all of it worse . . .
"No – Daniel just leave it, okay? It doesn't matter – they were just doing their job," she brushed him off and went to the counter to find her underwear. "Their job shouldn't be to hound my fiancée, who just lost our baby," he grumbled, removing his wet clothes, searching for a dry pair of boxers and PJ bottoms.
"Daniel, please just let it go – I don't want to talk about it," she begged him to stop, as she gingerly removed the wet saran wrap from her incision and slipped one of his t-shirts over her head as a night-shirt.
"I think we need to discuss this. Some of those same questions the media brought up . . . I've been wondering about them myself. We haven't exactly been open about what happened. I feel like we're drifting away from each other . . ." Daniel confessed, as he followed her into their bedroom. "I can't deal with this right now, Daniel," she insisted, yanking the covers back from the bed.
"When can you deal with this, Betty? It's like you think if you don't talk about it, it'll just disappear. I've tried to let you grieve alone, but it's not helping you or me. We need to sit down and discuss this – I know it's hard but you can't keep everything bottled up inside," he said, his anger and frustration building up.
"What do you want me to say? Our baby is dead, Daniel. We can't fix that." she bluntly stated, as the bitter yet all too true words rolled off her tongue. Daniel just stood there, silent. He'd never seen her like this. It was almost as if she was a different person – cold . . . rigid . . . She could tell it was what he was feeling, but had to do it, had to get him off her back long enough to think.
"I know talking is the last thing you want to do, but it would help . . . Maybe we should go to grief counseling or something?" he suggested, desperate for her to let him in, so much that her heart bled for him. But she had to pull herself together. "Grief counseling isn't going to help. It's not going to bring back our child. It's not –" she suppressed a sob, knowing it wouldn't help give them another . . . help her stay with Daniel without a guilty conscience.
"We have to do something!" Daniel insisted, plopping down on the bed. Betty took a deep breath. "You're right. We do. I think I need some space . . . time alone to think . . ." she said. "Okay, we can talk tomorrow –" he agreed, laying his head down on the pillow. "No, Daniel. I mean a few days . . . maybe more . . . I need to be by myself, okay?" she told him. She didn't want to do it, but she had to in order to gain any perspective at all.
He shot up. "Baby, this is insane! How is this helping anything?" he exclaimed. "Daniel, please. Can you just go? I need this," she pleaded. "Betty –" he protested. "Please?" she begged. Daniel reluctantly caved. "Fine. But I'm not going far – just the guest room. And you can't do this forever. You have to face this – face us," he told her, softly kissing her lips before he unwillingly left. Betty laid back down on the now empty bed and silently cried.
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". . . I just didn't know who else to turn to. You're the only one I knew who might understand what I'm going through. I just need some insight. But I'll understand if it's too personal for you," Daniel began. "It's alright, Dan. We're gonna be family pretty soon and families help each other out. I don't know how much help I'll be, but I can give it a shot," Bobby said.
"Thanks. . . I-I don't know what to do. It's been a week since the launch party. Betty won't talk to me and now she's shut herself in our room and will only let her assistant, Emma, in there. She claims she needs 'space' and 'time alone to think'. Our house is big enough to where she manages to avoid me most of the time I'm home. I just sleep in one of the guest rooms," Daniel revealed.
"I know she's having a hard time – I am, too. But the way she's been distancing herself from me . . . I'm starting to wonder if she loves me anymore," he admitted. The very thought crushed his heart, but he knew he had to face the possibility.
"I'm sorry, man - that's rough. I wish I knew what to tell you. These Suarez sisters are proud, stubborn and independent. When we lost our child, it wasn't easy to get through. There were a couple days when Hilda wanted time to herself, but it was nothin' compared to what you've told me about Betty. Is there anythin' else going on with you guys? Did you have a fight about somethin' before all this happened?" Bobby asked.
"No – we were good . . . happy . . . ready to start our future together. We were moving into our new house, getting ready for the wedding, excited about the baby . . ." Daniel answered. "Was she seriously excited about the baby?" Bobby wondered.
"Yeah, I mean we hadn't planned it or anything and she was worried about dealing with it and her magazine, but she wanted this child – I wanted this child . . . I've wanted a child ever since my nephew . . ." Daniel trailed off. He had come to terms with the fact that he wasn't DJ's father, but the memory still stung.
"Maybe that's it – maybe that's why she's shuttin' you out. She knows how much you wanna be a father and is afraid there's a chance she can't give that to you," Bobby said. "What? That's crazy! Betty knows I wouldn't care if that happened," Daniel denied the chance that maybe she didn't. She had to know that he loved her more than that.
"I'm just sayin' . . . Chicks have a way of over-thinkin' things – blowin' 'em out of proportion, gettin' insecure. They need to hear you say the words sometimes," Bobby warned. Daniel thought about what Bobby just said, but Betty wasn't like that. Betty did over-analyze things sometimes, but she wasn't needy. She didn't have to be told every two seconds that he'd never leave her side.
Sure, she had had her doubts and insecurities in the beginning - and rightfully so - but she should know by now that nothing would ever cause him to stop loving her . . . wanting to be with her. As much as he wanted a child, he wanted Betty more. And if they couldn't have one, it would hurt. But being without Betty would kill him . . . "Have you told her it doesn't matter?" Bobby inquired.
"We haven't really talked about anything like that – if and when we want to try again . . . other options . . . I wouldn't have even known that she might have trouble conceiving or carrying a child now, if I hadn't looked it up online. She won't say anything about the baby . . . and now she'll barely speak to me at all. I can't figure out what I've done or haven't done to make her so upset with me," Daniel raked his fingers through his hair in frustration as he paced back and forth in the guest room.
"It's probably not your fault – just miscommunication . . . or lack of it or somethin'. But I think you've given Betty plenty of time alone. You need to tell her how you feel – make her listen to you, let her know you're not givin' up. You can't live like this forever, man," Bobby advised.
"You're right. I've been trying so hard not to push her, to let her deal with it on her own, but it's not going away. She's obviously not okay and I'm not doing much better. It's killing me that I can't help her – that she won't even let me try," Daniel said.
"You've gotta fight like hell, if you love her at all. Not talkin' – that's just askin' for your relationship to get screwed – trust me," Bobby told him. "Thanks, Bobby. I really appreciate your help – even just letting me vent," Daniel said. "Anytime, Daniel. You're a good guy – hang in there. And let me know how it goes," Bobby told him. "Thanks, I will. Bye," Daniel hung up and sighed.
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"Betty, we need to talk," Daniel knocked on the door to their room. "Daniel, I told you – I'll let you know when I'm ready," Betty resisted. "What about me? What if I'm ready? You can't shut me out forever, Betty," he said. "Not now, okay?" she told him. "It's been long enough," Daniel said. "I need more time!" Betty insisted.
"Betty, I swear to god if you don't unlock this door I'm gonna break the damn thing down!" he threatened. She knew he was serious – he'd only broken down a door once before, and that was a matter of life and death. She reluctantly closed her laptop and got up, silently opening the door before climbing back on the bed.
Daniel followed, nervous, but determined to get something out of her or at least voice his feelings. "I'm sorry for barging in here . . . Wait – no, I'm not. You've been pushing me away ever since we lost the baby and I don't understand why. Was it something that I did? Something I said that made you feel like you couldn't talk to me? We promised to tell each other if we had a problem - not run away. And I know while you physically haven't left me, mentally you have," Daniel began.
"It's not you, okay? It's me. I can't think clearly when you're around and I know if I'm going to make a decision about what comes next you need to at least be in another room," Betty responded. "Decision? You mean for the magazine?" he asked, confused. "No, about us . . . I-I'm beginning to think I'm not what you need . . . that maybe you'd be better off with someone who can give you everything you've ever wanted. Things I might not be able to," she revealed, her voice trembling.
"A-Are you saying you don't love me anymore?" Daniel slowly asked. His heart was sinking, he knew this might be coming but nothing could prepare him for hearing her rejection. "No! God, Daniel! I love you so much it hurts – that's why these past few weeks have been so hard for me. I-I don't want to let you go, but I-I just think you'd be better off without me . . ." she lowered her head, trying to hold back her tears.
"What do you mean? Betty, you're all I could ever want or need. I can't breathe without you – I've tried. I love you with everything in me," he assured her, cupping her face. He studied her expression for a moment, taking in everything she had been telling him. "Is this about losing our baby?" Daniel wondered.
Betty nodded. "I'm not all that you want or need – I can't promise you a child. There's a chance it won't happen, and you want to be a father – you need to be a father. I couldn't live with myself if I denied you that just so I could be with you," she explained.
"Betty, life is about taking chances. You should know that by now. You took a chance on me when you came back to MODE, after that week of hell I put you through . . . I took a chance on you as my assistant . . . we took a chance on each other as friends . . . as more . . . you took a chance on moving here . . . and so did I," he took her hand.
"You can't stay in a bubble forever. Sometimes we try and we fail, but other times we get what we want . . . or something that turns into so much more than we ever expected," he smiled and softly brushed her lips. "And if we fail . . . if I can't give you a child of your own?" she timidly asked. "Then we try something else. There are so many options now – IVF, a surrogate, adoption . . ." he pointed out. "Adoption? Don't you want your baby to be biologically yours?" she wondered.
"Betty, when I found out DJ wasn't technically my son, I won't say I wasn't disappointed. But you saw me – I still wanted to be a father to him more than anything. After the initial blow, I realized it didn't matter to me whether he was my son or not. And I would've taken DJ away from his grandparents, if you hadn't reasoned with me. My point is, I loved him regardless and would do the same if we were to adopt. Just because you aren't a biological father or mother doesn't mean you can't be a good parent," he told her.
"True – it doesn't. But I know you – deep inside you want that child to be yours through and through. I can't risk letting you down – I won't!" she stubbornly said before attempting to get up. Daniel immediately pulled her back down. "But Daniel . . ." she protested. "No! You don't get to do that! You don't get to decide for me and just walk away! This involves both of us! And I know you, too - you put on a tough act, but underneath you're really scared," he countered. Betty bowed her head reluctantly.
"Look at me," Daniel gently lifted her chin; his tone slightly softened but still stood firm. "You are the woman I chose to spend the rest of my life with. You are it for me - period. Having a child means nothing to me if I don't have you to share it with. So this noble BS about me needing to be with someone else isn't gonna fly. "You're the only woman I want to have a baby with – whether it's naturally or any other way," he adamantly told her.
"Say we do try again . . . and again . . . so many times and methods that we end up having to adopt? That process is grueling and they go through an extensive background check. No offense, but you haven't always been squeaky clean – your sex addiction, drug addiction, that cult – not to mention your family's criminal past," Betty considered.
"And I aided and abetted fugitives, my father allegedly killed a man in Mexico and hid under an alias for decades without having a visa in America . . . We might not get approved, no matter how clean cut we really are," she speculated.
"And what if we do get approved? What if one or both of the birth parents decide five or ten years later they want their child back – or even when it's born? People change their minds. And don't tell me that it doesn't happen, because it does," Betty added.
"Or what if our child ends up hating us or feels we're not enough, like Amanda or Tyler did, and years later decides to find their birth parents and reject us? I'm not saying I want to keep their adoption a secret from them, they should be told as soon as they're old enough to understand, but . . ." she frantically rambled.
"Baby, your mind is going into overdrive. We might try again and be fine – not even need to adopt unless we decide we want to. You can't obsess over what might or might not happen in our lives," he tried to calm her down.
"Daniel, all I'm saying is we might not have that option if everything else we try fails, and even if we do, it could turn out to be a disaster. You won't be able to accept that – I know you won't. You'll try, but secretly you'll end up resenting me, regretting you married me instead of someone else," she said. "Would you resent me if I turned out to be our problem?" Daniel pointed out.
"Of course not, but –" she said. "Then you can't assume that I would resent you – that's not fair. I can't promise you that we won't have stressful times or that we'll never fight. There are a lot of factors involved in having a baby – and that's not even including raising it. But I swear to you that I will always love and support you through everything. And I will never - ever – resent you. You have my heart – believe that," he assured her, kissing the top of her hand and holding it to his heart. "Believe in us," he said.
". . . I do. I'm so sorry, Daniel. I was trying to make it easier for you, but I ended up making it worse," she apologized; her thumb caringly smoothed the rumpled hair along his forehead and ran down his jawline. "I want you to be happy. I don't want to ever be the reason why you're not," she apologized, as his arms encircled her and he held her tight.
"Hey, it's okay. Just don't shut me out, again. I know you're hurting, but I am, too. We need to lean on each other, get through this together - as a team. You and me – like it's always been. And I know it's going to take some time, emotionally and physically, before we're ready to try again. But I'm here for you - no matter what happens. Remember that," Daniel insisted, brushing a piece of hair away from her eyes. Betty nodded and pulled him towards her again.
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"You know, I doubt we'll have trouble with the conceiving part – you got pregnant our first time and that was with tons of protection," Daniel joked, weaving his fingers in and out of hers. "Well, you Meade men are apparently very fertile," she allowed a small smile to form on her face. Daniel chuckled as they lay quietly spooned together, her bare foot casually hiking up the leg of his jeans.
"Too bad, because I was looking forward to trying again . . . and again . . . and again . . ." he said, creating a trail of kisses from her hand to her shoulder. "Doesn't mean we still can't have fun if we're not . . ." she rolled over on her opposite side to face him, toying with the buttons on his shirt, teasing his bottom lip.
"Daniel, what are you doing? You know we can't do anything yet," she giggled as he crept up her fitted tank top. "I was just checking your scar – making sure it was being well-taken care of," he replied, delicately kissing around her wound before removing the bandage to take a peek.
"Mmm . . . I think it's just an excuse to play doctor," she giggled. "What? I am shocked that you would think that of me. I will have you know that since my family owns a hospital wing, I've learned a lot about medicine," he feigned offense.
"Really? Well then, Dr. Meade, as your patient, I'm not so sure I believe you. You might have a malpractice suit coming, because that is definitely not where my incision is," she slyly smiled as she felt his hands slink much further up her shirt, massaging her breasts. "Physical therapy," he defended himself. "Mmm . . . as long as it doesn't get much more physical than this, then I guess I'll have to follow the doctor's orders," she playfully conceded, capturing his lips with hers.
"Three more weeks . . ." he devilishly grinned, closing the remaining space between them as he matched her kiss then deepened it, his fingers getting tangled in hair. "Three more weeks . . ." she slyly smiled. "Until you're officially mine - in every way . . ." he said, playing with the ring on her finger. "And you're sure?" she looked up at him timidly. "Baby, we've been over this not two hours ago – I don't know how many more ways I can say it. I'm positive," he assured her.
"Good. Because I want this, too," she happily sighed. "Good. So no more obsessing. Just relax. We still have a lot to look forward to," he made her promise. "K," she agreed, as they silently laid there. She tried to simply enjoy the warmth and closeness of him, the beat of his heart, the safeness of his arms around her . . . she had missed that.
". . . Whenever we have another child, I think we should name it after Bobby. He's the one who told me I needed to get through to you, that us not talking was making it worse," Daniel finally spoke. "Aww . . . He's a really good brother-in-law . . . So, Roberto Meade?" Betty pondered. "Ehhh . . . I was thinking more like Robert – Jordan Robert Meade," he suggested.
"Jordan? Isn't that the name of the girl you and Alexis both slept with when she was still Alex?" she raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah . . ." he realized. "I don't think so! We're not naming our kid after any of our exes – at least the ones we can remember . . ." she smirked.
"Hey! See, she obviously wasn't important to me – you should be glad I forgot her," he defended himself. "You weren't the one who once spent an entire day getting your boss' dirty underwear - amongst other things – literally thrown in your face because he slept with so many women that week he couldn't remember where he left his damn watch!" she smacked his arm. "Ow! Okay, okay! I'm more sensitive, now – I learned my lesson – and my player days are definitely over . . . Liam Robert?" he proposed.
"Liam's nice – wait – you realize it's short for William, the name of your almost half-brother?" she pointed out. "I didn't think about that . . ." he said. "And Billy is also short for William. Do you really want to risk the chance of our son being called Billy Bob?" she said with a southern twang. They both cracked up. "Definitely out! How about Nikolas – it's my middle name?" he threw out. "Nikolas Robert Meade . . . I like it – but what if we have a girl? Neither one of those names will work," she pointed out.
"Roberta?" he joked. "Daniel – no!" she giggled. "What do you think about Gabriella?" she said. "Gabriella Elizabeth Meade . . ." he considered. "Elizabeth? Is she royalty?" Betty joked. "We can always hope . . . No – I just thought that was what your full name was?" he assumed. "If you ever paid attention to my employee file at MODE, it's really Beatriz Maria," she smirked. "But I like Elizabeth much better," she smiled.
"You know, this was much easier than what most people make it out to be," Daniel said. "Yeah, it was. Most couples bring out books and they argue 'til the baby comes over what to name it. Sometimes even then they can't agree," Betty shook her head. "I guess we just think alike," he smiled, kissing her temple. "Most of the time," she agreed, then frowned. "What?" he wondered. "I feel . . . guilty . . ." she admitted. "For what?" he asked.
"For starting to feel happy again . . . for thinking about our future . . . for even talking about having another child when we just lost one . . . It's almost as if we're replacing it – forgetting it ever existed," she confessed. ". . . I think it's okay to be happy again – to want another child. And we're not going to forget," he told her. "Come on – I have an idea," he rubbed her leg and helped her up. "Where are we going?" she asked. "Just trust me – I think this will make both of us feel better," he promised.
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"There!" Daniel said as he finished digging a hole in their backyard for the multi-colored geraniums they had bought in their baby's memory. "Have you got your note?" he asked. "Yeah – right here," she said as she kissed it and placed both hers and his letter into the small envelope entitled 'Baby Suarez-Meade' then tied the strings of the light green and bear-shaped balloons to it. "You ready?" he asked.
"I don't think I'll ever be ready," she sniffled. "I know. Me neither," he solemnly confessed, a tear running down his cheek as he covered her hand that held the balloons. "Your mom and I loved you very much," he shakily said. "We just wish you had stuck around long enough for us to meet you," Betty added in between soft sobs. "We hope you're in a safe and happy place," Daniel wished. "We'll never forget you," she promised, giving Daniel a look saying it was okay to let go.
As they released the balloons, they watched them float away into the sky and held each other tight, their emotions unhindered as they tried to give closure to their loss. After a while, Betty lifted her head from Daniel's shoulder and shifted in his arms to see his face.
"How did you come up with this?" she asked, using the pads of her thumbs to sweep the remaining tears from his eyes. "I don't know . . . it's just I knew funerals and memorials helped people grieve, move on . . . So I figured having a small ceremony of our own might be good for us. And the flowers . . . that way we'd have a way of remembering every year," he humbly replied, his voice hoarse from crying.
"Thank you. I needed this," she half-smiled. "We both did," he said, gently bringing his lips to her forehead. "We're gonna be okay, aren't we?" Betty timidly spoke. It was more of an observation than a question. "Yeah, we're gonna be okay," Daniel replied, as their foreheads met.