A/N: UPDATED UPDATED UPDATED (does happy dance). This chapter is from Angela's point of view, and I think you'll see exactly how she feels about losing the one person we thought she'd spend the rest of her life with.

Don't own them, never will, original characters are mine, song belongs to James Blunt, haven't we been through this before?

Reviews always welcome

How I wish I could walk through the doors of my mind;
Hold memory close at hand,
Help me understand the years.
How I wish I could choose between Heaven and Hell.
How I wish I would save my soul.
I'm so cold from fear.

Tears and Rain- James Blunt

I really thought I had it all when I married Don Flack. He was the most wonderful man I'd ever met. I'd never known anyone to accept me as he had. He'd taken my deafness not as something to run from, but as a challenge. He accepted that challenge, learning sign language so he could communicate with me.

I remember the first time we made love. It wasn't just sex; it was more… much more. He was the first person to ever wait while we were in bed and ask me what I wanted. How did I feel? Was I willing to tell him what I wanted? Was I in pain? When I felt myself contract around him I felt utter joy and completion. Someone had actually considered my feelings as I lay in bed with them.

Nine months after that night Charlotte was born.

I remember just how elated Don was to be a dad. Holding Charlotte for the first time and cutting the cord, as soon as that connection was severed she immediately became Daddy's girl. She had him wrapped around her little finger.

When we told her we were getting a divorce her eyes welled up with tears. It hurt me to see her like that. I put her to bed that night, and as I rolled into my own bed with no one beside me (Don had moved to the couch); I heard her talking to her doll, her 'Secret Sophie'. Well, "hearing", for me, involved reading the scripted words on my video phone. I kept it on all night, in case Charlotte ever needed me

"Mommy and Daddy don't love each other anymore," she explained to the doll, her words appearing on my screen. "They said that they aren't going to live together anymore."

My heart shattered in three places.

"If Mommy and Daddy aren't going to live together anymore, Daddy says that he's going to take care of me, and that I'm going to see Mommy on the weekends…" I heard her sniffle. "I don't want to live with just my Daddy. I want to live with my Mommy too."

Tears were streaming down my face.

"Why don't Mommy and Daddy love each other anymore?" She asked the doll. "Is it because I did something wrong?"

Oh no honey. I thought to myself. You did nothing wrong.

"I'll see you in the morning, Sophie…" she whispered as she rolled over, hugged Sophie tightly, and curled up under her blanket.

I cried myself to sleep that night.

That was a few months ago, and things have gotten a little better. Don and I have both explained to our daughter that yes, Mommy and Daddy don't live together anymore, but she didn't do anything wrong, and we still loved her very much.

Don and I were officially divorced now, with joint custody of Charlotte. Our custody arrangement was the same as we'd worked out when I first presented him with the papers. He had Charlotte during the week, I on the weekends.

It was much simpler this way.

But now, I realized, he was officially single, and he could start dating again. I was free to do the same, but I don't think either of us is ready to take that step. We both agree it's too soon to do so, and it's too hard on Charlotte.

As much as you think we're bitter toward each other, we're not. Surprisingly, we got along a lot better as single parents than we did at the end of our marriage. We talk things over like civilized human beings, we shower our daughter with love and affection, we smile when we transport her back and forth; we try our damnedest.

Her aggressive behaviour at daycare has calmed since Don and I explained to her what was happening. We'd explained before, but I don't think she'd really heard us until then. She'd adjusted to the change well. It was good to see that she was so used to staying with Don during the week by the time our divorce became final. As a result we decided to keep it that way.

I'll always love Don, he's the father of my child, and, contrary to what my mother says (her opinion changed drastically when Don and I divorced), he is not just a sperm donor. He's done more for Charlotte than I believe any other man ever could, and I don't believe he does it because the court says he has to, he does it because he loves her.

I can't deny that I still have feelings for him… of course I do. I can still look back and see the day that I first met him, the day he asked me to marry him, the first time we made love; I can still see our first everything's.

And it hurts.

It hurts to think that I won't be able to share that with him anymore.

It hurts to know that eventually, Don will move on.

And I know it won't be with me. It didn't work the first time…

So why the hell would I assume it could work a second?