A/N So sorry for the long wait. My muse left me. I am totally back and ready to write.

Wait

Even a year would not have been enough time for Mark to write something that made sense to anyone. He had never been a fantastic writer and now he was paying for not practicing that a bit more. This was his fiancée and he couldn't quite get out what he wanted and needed to say. Lexie was everything to him and he had lost her once and he never wanted to go through that again. He knew that the chances of her leaving him after learning of his childhood demons was very unlikely, but Mark was still anxious. He had written the statement in a letter format only because that was the way he felt most comfortable doing it. Now it was time for Dr. Wyatt to critique it and give him some suggestions on how to improve it or just change it.

He pushed open the door to Dr. Wyatt's office and she sat in her usual chair clearly waiting for him. Mark swallowed hard and hoped that his hands would feel less clammy. Therapy was nerve-wracking for him. Even though he had seen her last week. Mark had a feeling that therapy would never get easier for him.

"How was your week?" Dr. Wyatt inquired. She could see the stress written all over Mark's face and she had a feeling it had been a long, rough week for him.

"Hell." Mark replied promptly. It really had been. Whenever he looked at Lexie, he had wanted to tell her what was going on and it had killed him that he couldn't. He knew she needed to know and he was kind of angry with himself for not telling her before.

"Why don't you read to me what you wrote?" Dr. Wyatt suggested. Mark swallowed hard as he removed the piece of paper from his scrubs pocket and unfolded it with shaky hands. Dr. Wyatt knew how to turn him into a weak shaking thing and he hated it. Of course it wasn't Dr. Wyatt that was doing it, it was the act of remembering that was turning him into a shaky weak mess. He cleared his throat a few times before he began to read.

Dear Lexie,

I don't have regrets. I have always lived my life with no regrets and I make no apologies for it. After I put that ring on your finger I developed my first real regret since I was a child. I regretted not telling you something I should have told you a long time ago. You know that my childhood was nothing like yours. You had parents who loved you and protected you and were always there for you. I had a father who never gave a damn about me and a mother who touched me for nine years. I carried a lot of guilt as an adult for not doing more to stop it when I was a kid. I was pretty angry at my mother for a very long time and a part of that anger will never truly go away. When I met you, I realized that I wanted to stop being so angry. When I told you that you were the one who put me back together I meant that in more ways than one. I was broken for a very long time and meeting you, falling in love with you made me whole again. Something I hadn't been since before I was three.

More than anything, I want to make you happy for the rest of our lives together. I don't want to face this world without you at my side. I don't want my mother to take something else from me. Believe in me, believe in us. I love you so very much and I cannot wait to be your husband.

Love,

Mark

Dr. Wyatt was smiling as Mark folded up the paper and stuck it back into his scrubs. She could tell that writing that letter to Lexie had been hard and she commended him for doing it. Personally she thought it was a damn good letter. It was not full of detail of what Mark went through which Dr. Wyatt thought was good. That would force Mark and Lexie to really talk about everything using the letter as a starting point.

"Was it okay?" Mark asked after several moments of silence. Dr. Wyatt nodded as she studied Mark. She could tell he was still nervous but it wasn't as bad as it had been last week. Last week she had been sure he was going to drop something or throw up.

"It was damn near perfect." Dr. Wyatt informed Mark reassuringly. Mark exhaled with relief upon hearing that. He had struggled with the wording all week, though he didn't any anyone to know that. Mark looked at her, hoping she'd tell him what he had to do next thought Mark knew what she was going to say.

"Now what?" Mark asked.

"Now you have to go find her and give her that letter." Dr. Wyatt told Mark softly. The idea of sharing this letter made a fresh wave of nausea hit Mark. He always knew he was going to have to share the letter with Lexie, but he didn't feel ready.

"I'm not ready." Mark told Dr. Wyatt a little more firmly than he intended to.

"When are you ever going to be ready?" Dr. Wyatt asked. She knew that the longer Mark waited, the chances of him actually doing it grew less and less. Mark knew that he'd never be completely ready for this so he knew he had to just do it. He was hoping he'd feel better after doing it because really the anxiety was getting to be too much for him. If it was possible to get an ulcer from stress, Mark was sure he'd be developing one.

"I know." Mark agreed in a low voice.

"Then you'll do it soon, right?" Dr. Wyatt asked. Mark was starting to feel pressure and he did not respond well to pressure unless it was in surgery. He needed Dr. Wyatt to back the hell off.

"Yes." Mark muttered through gritted teeth. Dr. Wyatt could tell that Mark thought she needed to back off. So she did. She sat back in her chair and studied him.

"You still need therapy." She told Mark calmly. She knew that it was late, but Mark needed to deal with what had gone on when he was a kid. Lexie was a good woman, but she couldn't help him with this. She could listen and Dr. Wyatt had a feeling she would, but Mark needed more help than Lexie could give him.

"I know." Mark told her, nodding slightly.

Just then Mark's pager went off and he jumped and looked at it. He was confused at the display screen. It was Derek paging him, but the three letters that followed Derek's pager number were D-A-D. Was Derek trying to tell Mark that his father was there? Why would his father show up. It had been ten years since they had seen each other at Elizabeth Sloan's funeral. Mark had only gone to his mother's funeral so as not to arouse suspicion.

"I have to go." Mark told rather quickly. She figured it was a patient, but she also took notice of how rattled Mark looked. She knew from his personnel file that his mother was dead, so she couldn't have been the one to rattle him this much.

Mark realized that Derek hadn't indicated where he was so Mark headed for the lobby. He wished he knew what his father Bradley was doing here. Mark had no desire to have any sort of relationship with his father. In fact his father had no idea he was even engaged and Mark hoped that Derek would keep his mouth shut about Mark's impending nuptials. When he found his father, Bradley was standing with Derek and they looked to be taking. Bradley looked away from Derek and his eyes fell onto Mark.

Hello Mark." Bradley greeted his son. Mark's father had always been rather formal, even with his own son.

"Hello Father." Mark greeted his father just as formally. Suddenly Mark needed to know. In light of what he was working on, he had to know if his father knew that his mother abused him for nine years.

"Can we talk privately?" Mark asked. Bradley nodded, having his own things he needed to tell Mark. Things best said in private.

Bradley didn't even get a chance to speak about what he had come to talk to Mark about. As soon as they were in Mark's office and Mark had locked the door behind him, Mark spoke rather harshly to his father. That was something he would have never dared to do as a child.

"Did you know?" Mark demanded. Mark was shaking all over again. He had to know if his father had known what Elizabeth Sloan had done to her son.

"Did I know what?" Bradley asked, looking totally confused as to what Mark was talking about.

"That Mother touched me sexually for nine years?" Mark asked. Mark needed to know that his father hadn't known. He needed to know that his father would have protected him if he had known.