"I lost my baby two weeks ago," a sullen girl recited next to me. Her eyes are hollow, dark bags infiltrating the pale skin below her lifeless green irises. "I was in a car accident. No one else was injured. Other than a cut on my leg, you can't even tell I was hurt. But my baby still died."

I glanced at her nervously and tried to muster somewhat of a smile. Her voice was so fragile, as if she could break at any minute. "Thank you for sharing your story, Lily," the group moderator said warmly. "Who's next?"

Tale after tale, I listened to the circle of young girls tell their story. Each sadder than the next, I dreaded for the time when she called my name. Just as that thought flashed through my mind, I heard my name. "Lulu, would you like to go next?"

Lulu? What about her?

"I…" my voice faltered as I looked at the group of women around me. Their lives were so sad, leaving them an empty shell of who they once were. "I can't do this." I didn't give anyone the chance to change my mind as I took off running, away from the group and away from the truth. I didn't stop until I was in the waiting room. I could feel the tears coming to the surface as my body grew hot. My legs began to shake as I sunk to the floor. Within seconds, Dillon was next to me, wrapping me in his comforting embrace.

"It's okay, Lu, I'm here," he murmured as he stroked my hair tenderly.

I shook my head vehemently. "Nothing is okay, Dillon. It's never going to be okay again. Those girls in there, they are not okay. They're all empty, just like me."

I'm on my way. I'm coming, I'm coming.

"You're not empty, Lulu. You still have so much to live for," he tried to reassure me.

"Don't tell me how to feel!" I screamed, covering my ears as I started to curl into a ball. I could feel myself receding into my brain. I wanted to push him away and pull him next to me in the same breath. I wanted to let myself find comfort in him.

"I'm not telling you how to feel," he said pointedly. "But I am not going to sit here and watch you lose yourself. I am in love with you, Lesley, and I don't care what you say, I know you are in love with me. I've already lost my child, I'm not going to lose you, too."

"You deserve better than me. You deserve someone who wouldn't kill your baby," I whimpered, trying to ignore the fact that he had called me by my first name. Such a tender gesture meant more to me than anyone could ever know. "I lied to you. I almost had an abortion, and then I actually did let the baby die. I'm damaged goods."

Lulu, hey. Hi, sorry to break this up. I got to talk to you.

"You are not damaged," he shot back. "You are beautiful. You are everything I have ever wanted in my entire life, all wrapped up in one amazing package. You challenge me to think about things I would never even consider. You push me to be the best possible version of myself. You hold me up when I'm falling apart. You make me believe in myself when no one else does."

"Just leave me alone, Dillon. It's what I deserve."

"No, you deserve to be loved. I can't take this away, Lu, I wish that I could. I wish I could take all your pain and make it my own."

"You have your own pain. I see it, Dillon, even if no one else does. I see it in your eyes. Your eyes tell me everything that I need to know."

You're getting too obsessed with the mystery…It's not going to magically fix your life.

"Then you should see my eyes telling you that I love you because right now, that's all I feel. I am in love with you, Lulu. Please tell me that you love me."

"Dillon…"

"Please," he implored, his voice breaking up as the tears started to come.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I cried, turning my head to avoid his eyes.

"Please," he sobbed. "Please tell me that you love me."

Who said that my life needed magical fixing?

"Oh, Dillon," I sighed, turning back to him. No matter what was going on, I couldn't stand to hear him cry, to see him devastated. I was in love with him, and even if he deserved better, he didn't deserve to feel like I didn't care. "I love you more than anything, Dillon. Certainly more than myself right now. You're the only thing keeping me here."

"Then, hold onto that, Lu. I need you to just hold on for me."

"I don't know if I can."

"Do you trust me?"

I nodded. "You know that I do."

This whole project of yours is getting Lulu way too mired in the past, and it's not healthy for her.

"Do this for me then," he begged. "We will be happy again someday, I'm going to make sure of it. We are going to get married and spend the rest of our lives together."

"When, Dillon? When is that going to happen?"

"Today, right now if you want it."

"Okay."

"Okay?" he asked, raising his eyebrow as he peered at me.

"Okay, let's get married. Right now, just you and me," I decided.

I heard that you Quartermaines stick together, especially when things get a little tough.

"Are you serious?"

I nodded assuredly. "Yes. Will you marry me? Right now, today?"

"I'll marry you today, tomorrow and every day for the rest of our lives," he whispered as he pulled me close to him once again. Our chins bumped as he captured my mouth with his. "I love you."

"I love you," I echoed, clinging to him more desperately than anyone could ever know.

"Alright," Epiphany said softly from behind me. "We can't have you guys on the floor. This is a hospital, Ms. Spencer."

And suspicion abounds…

I looked around and realized we were still sitting on the floor of the waiting room at General Hospital. "I'm sorry," I apologized as Dillon pulled me to my feet.

"It's okay," she replied.

"Please don't tell anyone…" Dillon began before she put her hand up to stop him.

And you seem to know something.

"I didn't hear a thing that I could repeat," she avowed before walking off to return to her duties. Just before she disappeared out of sight, she turned and looked at us. "But congratulations."

"I'll have to talk to Alan about giving her a raise," Dillon chuckled to himself as he folded his hand in mine. "Do you want to fly to Vegas? Or we could jaunt up to Atlantic City?"

I shook my head. "I want to get married in Port Charles."

It wasn't just cheating. It was like a full-on, not-so-secret affair.

His eyes lit up suddenly, and I knew that the romantic in Dillon had just kicked in. "The boathouse. I'll call Father Coates and have him meet us there."

"Coming full circle? How cinematic of you," I teased. "It will end in the same place it began."

"This isn't an ending for us, Lulu, it's only the beginning."

You're making a classic film structure mistake. You're assuming that the first answer you have is the right one.

"You almost make me believe that's true," I said almost in audibly as we slipped from GH and headed for the dark town car in the pouring rain.

"Father Coates? This is Dillon Quartermaine," he said into his cell phone as he threw me an exasperated glance at my last melodramatic comment. His words string together in a constant hum as he starts to explain everything to Port Charles' most notable priest. I don't hear anything he says again until the car slows down in front of my brother's house.

"Why are we at Lucky's?"

We're not making a movie.

"I need to pick something up. I'll be back," he smiled before leaping from the car and jogging toward the porch. I watch as two of the most beloved men in my life talked and Lucky handed Dillon a concealed package. Lucky shook Dillon's hand and smiled distantly toward the car. Dillon nodded, said something else and then slipped back into the vehicle, soaked.

"What were you getting?"

"This," he revealed, handing me a small velvet box. "Open it."

"No, we're not making a movie. But if we were, actually, this would be the part in the plot where we find out the crucial backstory of a prominent character that's furthering the storyline and making everything groovy and cool. But usually it's a smokescreen.

"Oh, Dillon," I gasped. "This is beautiful."

"This," he said, slipping it on my finger, "is yours. It's a very special ring. Each diamond has a meaning." He took my hand in his and pointed at the first stone. "This diamond came from my grandmother's favorite pair of earrings. Grandfather gave them to her on their first wedding anniversary, and Lila wore them every one after that."

"This diamond," he continued as his finger brushed over the second stone, "came from your grandmother Lesley's wedding band. It had three diamonds on it, and now one of them is in your ring."

It doesn't mean that I've forgotten everything I know about directing. I mean, I'm bestowing my expertise on you.

"This one," he explained, thumbing the fourth stone, skipping over the largest middle stone, "came from my mother. My father bought her a cocktail ring before I was born. This is one of the diamonds from the ring. Many things have come and gone in my life, but that ring – like my mom – has remained constant."

"And this one came from your mom," he went on. "This is the center diamond from the ring your father gave to your mom 25 years ago. I don't need to explain to you its significant; it's inherent. Their loves is one we can only hope to aspire to."

"And what about this one?" I asked emotionally, rubbing the largest middle stone.

"That is us, you and me," he concluded. "It's the biggest because it is the most important thing in the world to me. It's surrounded by our history, the people who love and support us. This ring, it's a little part of you and a little part of me."

You take any good screenplay, and every scene in it was written for a reason. We need to start from the beginning.