I reached up and ran my fingers lightly across Dillon's cheek, letting my touch linger for a moment. I had waited a lifetime to hear those words, but when they finally came, they rang false. I knew that Dillon loved me, but he wasn't ready to say the words to me yet. He felt guilty, and he wanted to make me feel better.

"Don't say that," I whispered, dropping my eyes to avoid his steady gaze.

Dillon reached down and lifted my chin to bring my eyes back to his. Sobs choked me as I forced the sounds struggling to escape from my throat back down. "I mean it."

"I know you think you do, Dillon, and I appreciate you wanting to make me feel better," I replied. "I just, I just can't handle if you try to take this back later. If you tell me how you feel and then you go back to Georgie, I won't be able to get past it. So, let's just stop this now before it gets out of control."

"What if I don't want to go back?" he asked softly, peering down at me behind hooded eyes.

"You need to be sure. I need you to be sure. I wasn't what you wanted before, and I'm not sure that that has truly changed as much as you think it has," I said. "I need you to go. I can't do this right now."

Dillon looked at me sadly and shook his head. He opened his mouth to say something but snapped his jaw shut. Dropping my hand, he crawled off the bed and slowly paced across the floor. Without another look over his shoulder, he left me all alone once again.

Don't do that. I just don't want you putting yourself down.

I leaned back against the headboard and crossed my arms over my stomach protectively. Looking down at my still flat abdomen, I finally allowed the sadness to wash over me. Salty tears prickled my blue eyes as I rubbed my hands over my womb, praying that my child would feel some kind of solace after what I had just put it through. "Hey, kiddo. It's your mommy, but I guess you would know that. Anyhow, I know you just heard me send your father away. I'm trying to do this for both of us, to protect myself. I don't want him to tell me he loves me until he's sure he doesn't love her anymore. Please don't be angry at me."

Another knock pounded against my bedroom door. Rolling my eyes, I prayed that it wasn't Dillon. I wasn't ready to go another few rounds with him quite yet. "Who is it?"

"It's me," Tracey called from the other side of the door.

"Come in."

"Hey," she greeted me with a soft smile. "I wanted to come talk to you. I wanted to let you know that I am really glad you decided to keep this child. Not just for Dillon but for you. I know you never believed me, but I did have an abortion twenty years ago."

I did the same thing. I woke up one morning and I realized I wanted to change.

"I thought you made that up to scare me."

She shook her head. "I wish I had. You'll never have to live with the weight of such a dark and sad decision. I know you're probably scared, but I think that you've really done the right thing for yourself. You're going to be a good mother, Lulu. I haven't given you enough credit."

"Thank you," I murmured, the tears still coming down my cheek. Tracey reached over and wrapped me in a maternal embrace.

"I know your mother can't be here, Lulu, but I want you to know that I am here. I'm not the same thing, I know, but maybe I can be something else. And I'm not the only one who cares about you, you know?"

"I know Dillon cares."

"He doesn't just care, Lulu, he loves you. I see it so clearly."

I shook my head fiercely. "No, I don't deserve his love. After everything, he can't love me."

Take a step back, Lulu. The only one who's judging you is you.

"That's the thing about love. You don't get to decide who falls in love with you, just like you can't choose who you fall in love with. You fell in love with my son. And whether you think so or not, my son has fallen in love with you."

"I messed up."

"That, Miss Spencer, is a family trait," she smiled. "The thing is, when you Spencers mess up, you mess up big time. But you also make big come backs."

"I have to go talk to Dillon," I explained to Tracey before leaping from the bed. She simply nodded as I started for Dillon's room. Stopping outside his door, I could hear his voice. It was low and soft, as if he was having a private conversation. I waited to hear a second voice, but it never came. Then, I realized he must be on the phone."

"Look, Georgie, we probably need to meet to talk about this," he said. "No, you can't come over here, it probably wouldn't be the best idea. Look, can you meet me at Kelly's in an hour?" I waited a beat as she must have been replying. "Sounds good, bye."

I listened as he hung up the phone and sighed deeply. "Great, how do I go break up with my wife?" he said to himself. "How do I tell her that I have fallen in love with my stepsister, of all people, and now we're going to have a child? She is going to hate me. Lulu already hates me."

"I don't hate you."

Dillon looked up at me, leaning against the doorjamb. "You don't?"

"Not even a little bit."

"I'm glad you came back."

"I heard everything you just said. Did you mean it?"

He nodded solemnly. "Maybe more than anything I've ever said before."

"I love you, too, Dillon."

He grinned widely and covered his mouth in disbelief. He crossed the room in exactly two steps before sweeping me into his arms, pulling my body firmly to him. "I love you," he whispered, leaning down to capture my mouth with his. Deepening the kiss, I allowed myself to get lost in him. Pulling back, he looked down at me and repeatedly whispered, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

No, but I used it as an escape. That's what children do -- they run and they hide -- and I'm not doing that anymore.