April 2009

Rick walked home, the spring sunshine warm on his face. Vanilla lattes? Yes. That was much more her style than the earl grey she'd had last week. Or at least, it might be. No. It was. It had to be. She'd just been so much happier. So much lighter. And if it wasn't at least partly related to the coffee…

He glanced down at the phone in his hand. He could message her. Right now, and say… what? He shoved the cell back in his pocket, crossing with the lights at Canal Street and continuing to make his way up Broadway. He couldn't message her. Not yet. Not when - he glanced at his wristwatch - it had been all of ten minutes since he'd taken his leave.

She'd probably only just made it into her apartment. She probably wasn't even curled up on the sofa with Ramona yet. If it had been him - he'd never had to put Alexis in daycare, for which he was grateful - but if it had been him, and another child had bitten his daughter, he would have been furious. And he'd have been beelining to the nearest Disney movie in an attempt to restore calm, in the hope that his daughter would have relaxed.

He nodded to Eduardo as he swung the front door of his apartment building open, whistling as he made his way into the elevator and up to his floor, smiling as he opened the front door to the loft.

"What's put that smile on your face? Or should I say who?"

Rick pulled the door shut behind him, raising a hand in greeting at his mother. "Must you ambush me before I even make it into the apartment?"

Martha just cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows raised.

"If you must know-" he shrugged his jacket off, taking his time selecting a hanger and finding a place for it in the hall closet- "I was with Kate."

"Kate who probably hates you, Kate?"

"Well she obviously doesn't hate me." He grinned. "She called to apologize for running out on me last week."

"Sounds promising."

"It's not like that," he said, crossing the apartment to where his mother sat on the sofa. "We just had a coffee. She's… married. I met her daughter. They're watching a movie this afternoon. She's three."

"Richard-"

He shook his head, raising his hand to stop her. "I know, I know. It's not like that. I think we can be friends."

"Well, as long as her husband's okay with that."

"Seriously? You think so little of me that you think I'd… do something. Like that?"

"No, of course not." Martha's expression softened. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. I know you like to… well-" She coughed, and Rick narrowed his eyes. "I'm not judging. We're all adults here, and what you do in your free time-"

"Well this is my house," he reminded her. "So if you can avoid doing… anything here in your free time with my daughter around, I'd appreciate that."

"Oh, darling. Don't be such a prude. And I didn't mean to insinuate anything. I just meant that even though you sell books by splashing yourself around on page six, I'm your mother, and I know that look on your face. If she's married, she's not available, and, well, I don't want you to get hurt."

"I think we're just going to be friends. Besides I sell books because I'm a good writer. Not because the press follows me sometimes." He frowned.

"Richard-"

"I know, Mother." He squeezed her hand before standing and striding across to the kitchen. "Thank you for your concern."

She was wrong. It wasn't like that. Was it? After just two meetings? No. He and Kate were just friends, and if, every time he closed his eyes he saw her hazel ones staring back at him…

No. He wasn't going to go there, not even in his head. No matter what his mother thought she read in his expression. There was a line. And after Meredith - not that he ever would have anyway - he would never cross it. He scrubbed a hand across his face, clearing his mind of the images. "Coffee, Mother?"

She shook her head, and he shrugged, turning to the coffee machine to prepare one for himself, opening the pantry as he waited for the water to heat. He stood up on his tiptoes, reaching to the back of the top shelf for the selection of coffee flavorings Alexis had bought him for Christmas. Hazelnut, toffee… he shuffled through them. Vanilla. Perfect. It wasn't sugar free, but it was a start. Time to see just what it was that had put the smile on Kate's face.

He poured the coffee, squeezing in a generous amount of the syrup, and a dash of creamer, carrying the cup through to his study. In his pocket, his phone vibrated, and he put the coffee down, pressing the power button on his laptop before answering.

"Hi, Gina."

"Richard." His ex-wife sounded like she'd already made up her mind to be annoyed, and he made a face, settling down into his chair, the phone balanced between his shoulder and ear as he opened a browser window.

"What can I do for you?"

"You can try sending me a chapter."

Okay. Straight to the point. "Gina. I told you. I'll have something for you soon."

"You said that weeks ago, at the launch party," she pointed out, and he shrugged.

Could he help it if life got in the way? And if life happened to be in the form of an attractive brunette, distracting him with coffee dates-

No. Not dates. A chat over coffee. A friendly catch-up. Two friends, passing the time over a caffeinated beverage. Most definitely not dates.

"Things have changed since then."

"How?"

"I told you. I'm shadowing some NYPD detectives. Getting inspiration. The way I did when I was writing Clara Strike. I just need time." He sighed. Clara Strike had been based on someone hot, attractive, intriguing… Esposito and Ryan were great, but they didn't quite meet his requirements for muse, no matter how interesting the cases were.

"Well, I'll be calling you every day until I have a chapter in my inbox," she promised him, ending the call, and he sighed, dropping the phone onto his desk and staring at it. Marriage wasn't easy. Even when the marriage in question had ended a year ago, and the divorce was finalized. He lowered his gaze back to the laptop at last, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Is she asleep?" Gabe asked, as Kate made her way back into the living room, her glass of wine in hand. This week had been long; Ramona had been clingy since she'd brought her home from daycare early a few days ago, and she was grateful that bedtime tonight had gone smoothly.

"Out like a light."

He nodded. "Kate… we need to talk."

"If this is about work again, I don't think there's anything else to say. I don't want to work more than three days a week. Monday to Wednesday is bad enough."

He shook his head. "Not work. Not just work. Us. Everything."

She nodded, sitting down across from him, her shoulders rigid. "What is there to say?"

"Well… that's the problem, isn't it?"

She nodded, slowly, bringing the glass to her mouth and taking a sip. "I… guess?"

"What happened to us, Kate?"

"I don't know, Gabe. I have no idea what you mean."

He shrugged, his gaze fixing deliberately on the glass in her hand. "Your dad came round yesterday."

"Yeah… so?"

"So… how can you drink, when you know what he's like? Aren't you afraid you're going to end up like him?"

"How can you say that? Don't you think there's a difference between having a glass of wine to unwind in the evening, and drowning yourself in spirits before midday?" She raised a hand to stop him from interrupting her. "Which, might I point out, was not the case yesterday. He was clean. Sober. Hadn't had a drink in…" She shrugged. "Well, for a few days."

"There's a difference, yeah. And good for him… if he can go a few days." The distaste in Gabe's voice was evident, and Kate flinched. This was her father they were talking about. No matter how bad it got, he was still her dad.

"How dare you-" she started, but he waved her protest away.

"I'm not saying it's not good-" The scorn on his face told her otherwise, but she remained quiet, willing herself to stay calm as shudders of rage roared through her. "But you find too much solace in that glass of wine each night."

"And where do you propose I find solace, Gabe? In you? My husband? Because yeah, sure. Ideally, that would be nice. But we've never had that, have we? We've never been that kind of couple, leaning on each other when the going gets tough."

"Are we even a couple?" he asked, and she shrugged. She knew the answer, deep down. No. They weren't a couple. They co-existed, that was all. "I mean, we don't even wear our rings anymore." Kate glanced down, stretching her left hand before her. Like Gabe's, her finger was without its wedding band.

"Oh. I took it off the other day. At work. I meant to put it back on, but I left to get lunch, and then Ramona's daycare called, and I had to go pick her up."

He cleared his throat. "You didn't have to pick her up, Kate. She was fine. Kids bite each other. It sucks, but it happens. You know that."

"You didn't see her, Gabe. When we picked her up she was exhausted." The slip was out of her mouth before she could stop it; she froze and his eyes narrowed.

"We?"

"I was having lunch with a friend, okay?"

"What kind of friend?"

"A… friend. Just a friend. No one. It- not like that, Gabe." There was nothing to defend. She'd had lunch with a friend. The pull that was between them- no. She wasn't going to act on it. She'd met Rick to apologize, it was all completely innocent. She rolled her eyes heavenward, letting out a huff. Were they even friends? She hoped so. But it had been two days ago, and she hadn't heard from him since, so maybe that was it. Maybe-

"Are you cheating on me?"

She put her wine glass on the coffee table and leaned her head back. "Gabe… even if I wanted to cheat on you… I barely have the energy to run this household, go to work, look after Ramona and eat dinner with you occasionally. How would I even have time for someone else?"

He shrugged, not meeting her eyes, and her mouth fell open as the root of the accusation clicked into place. All the late nights at the office, all the weekends he'd ducked out at odd hours claiming important client meetings or dinners. "But you… you're having an affair, aren't you?"

He shifted, glancing around the room, his eyes falling on the wedding picture above the fireplace. A visibly pregnant Kate beamed at the camera, her hands protective around her belly, Gabe behind her, a proud smile on his face. "I-" he started, but she shook her head, her body falling forward.

"I don't think I want to know."

"I'm not," he interjected, but the protest was too slow, too clumsy off his lips, and she shrugged, folding her legs beneath her, curling in on herself in an attempt to stave off this conversation. This measured, calm, civilized conversation which belied the pounding of her heart in her chest. Was this real? Was it really happening? Did it end like this? A sedate, passionless discussion in a living room so tastefully reworked by an interior decorator Gabe had insisted was the best?

"I don't know what we're doing," she admitted, reaching for her wine glass again, and he nodded. "It's like… we used to seem so similar, when we were in law school together."

"Mmm," he agreed, meeting her eyes at last. "So what do you want to do about it?"

"We could… work on this. On us?" They couldn't. But she had to try, for Ramona, if nothing else.

He shrugged. "Maybe. But to be honest, Kate, I don't know if there's any point. This is the one of the longest conversations we've had in months. It feels like we're co-existing in this apartment, but maybe we need to take a break, get some space?"

The words settled like rocks in her stomach but even as they did so, she could sense a weight being lifted from her shoulders, the shock flushing through her veins, burning as the room swam. It was a hope and a nightmare all at once. A way out? But what then? "A break? Or… divorce?"

Gabe was silent. She pushed her wine away, her thumb finding its way into her mouth and she gnawed at her nail.

Divorce.

What would her mom have said, if she knew her daughter was getting a divorce? The answer rushed at her. If her mom had been alive she would never have married Gabe. She would never have let an unplanned pregnancy be the catalyst for settling.

If she'd had her own mother the idea of being a single mom wouldn't have held fear; not the way it had in 2005 when she'd only said yes because she couldn't imagine saying no.

"I don't want Ramona to grow up in a broken home," she mumbled, and Gabe shook his head, sympathy all over his face, a softness to his expression that she hadn't seen for years.

"Do you really think it's better for her to grow up like this?" he asked. "Do you want her to grow up thinking this is what marriage is? Because this isn't how I was raised, and I know it's not how you were raised either."

She nodded, dabbing at the tears that were forming. Her mom and dad might not have been perfect, but they'd had a good relationship. A strong relationship. Gabe was right. He shrugged and she stood. "Fine," she said, pressing her lips together and staring at him a moment longer. "Fine. If that's what you want."

She turned, unable to stomach being in here any longer, and Gabe stood too, reaching for her and closing his hand over her arm. "I'm sorry," he murmured, and she nodded, unable to look at him.

"We'll have to figure out how we're going to do this," she said, taking a deep breath and forcing her emotions down. Not now. Later. She could cry later. Not in front of him.

"We will," he agreed, and she pulled away from his grasp. "We can meet with our lawyers, work this out."

"Lawyers?" she asked, and he nodded, confusion clouding his eyes.

"Of course. I think- it's better. Keep it clean."

"Sure," she mumbled, backing away.

This was the right thing to do.

That didn't make it easy.

A/N: Thanks for the beta Kylie and Jamie. So happy so many people are interested in seeing where I take this! x