Easton cautiously stepped from the elevator later that morning, listening for any sound of movement. She wasn't sure if Greg would even come home, but she'd taken her chances, skipping out on the last half of the meeting with Britney by feigning pregnancy-related nausea so she'd have the chance of catching him at home and maybe convincing him to let her talk to him. It was a useless gesture, she knew. She hadn't seen him since last night when he had banished her from his office.

"Greg?" she called out, hearing the elevator doors slide shut behind her as she kicked off her suede Jimmy Choo ballet flats. She heard someone in the kitchen and she poked her head through the doorway. She could see Greg's head poking just above the counter, but he didn't move to greet her. Instead his head ducked down and Easton took a few cautious steps until she was able to see his full profile. He sat hunched against the kitchen cupboards, his body shaking, his cheeks streaked with tears. Easton immediately felt choked with the desperation to just be able to hold him, to tell him how sorry she was that she was the one who'd reduced him to this.

"Get lost, Easton," he ordered. Now that she was actually in front of him, she realized she didn't even know what she was going to say.

"Can we please just talk?" she asked gently.

"I have nothing to say to you. Go find Nick, maybe he wants to hear your voice."

"I know I really hurt you, and I'm sorry. I don't know why I thought I still loved Nick. You know I love you. All that happened…"

"Was all just fate, right? Fate saying you and Nick should be back together," Greg finished for her, his tone bitter.

Easton paused. "That's not right. You know I don't believe in fate, and no, I don't think Nick and I should be back together. It was a mistake, Greg.'

"Then why didn't you think to be honest with me right away? Not let four months go by?" he demanded. "Why would you have not said something the moment you knew you were pregnant? We've always been honest with each other. Always. At least until now."

Easton looked down at the floor. "Greg, I…" She trailed off, unsure of what to say.

He didn't know if it was all the sentiments deluging him or if he was just tangibly insane, but he grasped at her, forcing himself on her, his lips battering against hers belligerently as he pulled her down onto his lap. Impelling her silk-chiffon Thayer tunic off, he clasped her engorging breasts that were spilling from her bandeau bra, casing his hands around the small of her back, pulling her as close to him as possible, the only thing between them her budding abdomen. He lurched his tongue past her lips, roping it with hers as she wrenched his merlot coloured Henley over his head, lightly scratching her nails down his torso to the button of his cargo pants which she proceeded to undo. Not removing his lips from hers for even a second, he propelled his hand underneath the tight fabric of her leggings and into her thong, fidgeting with her clit. They shimmied together, each pulling the others pants off and Easton lowered herself onto his erection, her eyes widening in pure bliss as he filled her. She slowly began to bounce on his lap, swaying her hips slightly to find a snugger fit, leaning back, Greg grasping her round belly.

Greg pressed her back so that she was lying flat on the kitchen floor, the marble cold against their now sweaty skin. He started to more forcefully fuck her, slamming himself in and out of her, pinching the skin on her arms as he held her down, feeling some of his pent up rage at her perspire out his pores, ignoring the slightly alarmed look that had replaced the rapture on Easton's face.

"Greg, stop. You're hurting me." Her voice was what snapped him out of his angry tirade and sent him spiralling back down to earth to realize this wasn't him. It wasn't in his nature to use physical intimidation to issue revenge, and even though she had hurt him so badly, he never wanted to physically harm her, but maybe that had been his way of having her bear an ounce of the agony he was feeling. His face fiery with embarrassment, he scrabbled off of her and they silently both pulled their clothing back on, Greg trying to get his shaking hands under control. He didn't know why he had done that, but then again, he hadn't been himself for the past 24 hours, not that that was an excuse.

"You made me feel like…" Greg stopped talking. Easton could feel his eyes on her again, and she tried to calm her racing heart, tried to understand what had just happened, what was happening now.

"You know what? Forget it. Easton. I'm not wasting my time on you."

She glanced up at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Greg crossed his hands over his chest. "It's over between us, Easton."

Easton felt herself stiffen. "You didn't even let me explain."

"Forget it, Easton." Greg shook his head and rose to his feet. He scooped up his car keys that were on the counter and brushed past her. "Let's just forget about the whole thing. I'll have my stuff out of here by the week's end, but I don't want to see you."

Easton marched after him as he headed for the elevator. "You can't be doing this, Greg."

Greg kept walking. "Wow, look Easton, it looks like I am, now doesn't it?"

"Greg, wait!" She called after him. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I love you and I just want to be with you."

Greg turned on her, causing her to stutter-step to a halt. "Are you deaf or something, Easton?" His eyes glistened in the apartment lights. His voice was desperate, as if he was forcing himself to say the words. "You've already proved that you can't love me that much. It's over between us."

"Greg, come on," Easton pleaded, the lump in her throat making it hard to speak. "We just need some time to figure this out."

Greg turned one last time in the elevator doorway. "No, you need time to figure out who you want." His lips were quaking as he added. "Leave. Me. Alone." He spun around on the heels of his Addidas and was gone with the ding of the door, leaving Easton alone in the apartment.