"Look I know that I'm never going to be the man that you want me to be..."

She cuts him off before he can go any further, "I just want you to be a man. Stop playing stupid childish games all the time, and grow up."

"You're accusing me of playing childish games? That's definitely the pot calling the kettle black."

"What do you want me to say? What am I supposed to say to make you believe that I've changed? What can I do to make you see that I'm not the villain?"

"I don't know. I'm just so used to you being the villain that it's going to take a while for me to get used to you being someone else. To be honest, I kind of like you being the villain."

"Someone has to do it."

"You and I will never see eye to eye on everything, and I don't expect that. We both have big egos, which is why I will not be returning to Mode."

"It's your magazine."

"No, Wilhelmina it's your magazine, and rightfully so."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know, but I don't think it will be anything to do with fashion."

"I'm not any good at this," she admits.

"Any good at what?"

"I'm not any good at trying to make things work. I don't like to..."

"Admit that you have any sort of feelings, because it would be a sign of weakness."

"I'm just so..."

"Drained that you don't care anymore. You're sick of trying to be strong all of the time. It's ok to need help sometimes."

"I hate this," she admits, "I don't know how to do this. I'm not used to caring about anyone, but myself. Even when Nico was born I was too selfish to be the parent that she needed. I was too young, and stupid to know what I should have done. Now I know what I'm supposed to do, but I don't know how. I'm afraid that if I let myself get to attached to him... if I let myself love him..." she chokes back tears.

"Nothing is going to happen to him. No one is going to take him from you."

"You don't know that. He's so tiny, anything could go wrong, at anytime."

"It's a good thing that he's like you."

"What do you mean?"

"Stubborn, determined, and not willing to go anywhere without a fight."

"And he's not afraid of needles," she jokes.

"I wasn't going to say that," he smirks.

"I should probably be getting to bed."

He looks at his watch, "It's only ten thirty."

"I have to get up early."

"For what? You don't have to be at work until eight. Are you going to go see him before you go?"

"No. I get up early so I can hit the gym, and take care of a couple other things before I go to work".

"So you get up at what? Four? And work until six thirty, and then go be with him until..."

"I left a little early tonight. I usually stay until nine thirty or ten, sometimes later."

"And then you come home, and do it all again the next day?"

"I don't have much of a choice."

"I'm sorry."

She studies him carefully, but doesn't question him.

He explains on his own, "I'm sorry that I missed everything. I'm sorry that you had to go through this alone, you shouldn't have had to."

She doesn't say anything. A piece of her hair falls into her face. He tucks it behind her ear.

"I don't know how we're ever going to make this work, but I'll do whatever I can. You deserve this, you've worked really hard, and you deserve to have this."

"Have what?" she questions.

"Happiness. I'd like to think that for Chance's sake we could be together, but I know we have a lot of issues. I wouldn't want him to see his parents like I did."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"I never understood why you'd want to be with me."

"Because you're never afraid to say what needs to be said. You take charge, when I can't. You never give up, until you get what you want."

"I don't always know what I want."

"I know what you mean. I should get going so you can go to bed."

"Ok."

"I'm planning on going to see Chance when I wake up in the morning do you want me to call you, and let you know how he's doing?"

"No, just give him a kiss for me."

"Of course," he agrees as he heads for the door. He stops at the door, and turns to look at her. And that's when he sees it. A beautiful, flawless, exterior, slowly cracking down the center on the inside. She stands against the couch as still as a statue. He looks at her and he feels as if he can't breath, and that his chest is hollow. Without a word, he walks over to her. He wraps his arms around her, and holds her tight. She doesn't flinch, or push him away, like he half-expects her to. She places her chin on his shoulder, and her body suddenly relaxes.

It was obvious that whether or not she wanted to be with him romantically in the past, present, or future, in the moment she needed him. She just needed him to be there for her.

"I'm sorry," she says softly as her warm tears fall onto him.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," he reassures her. He slowly lets her out of her embrace. He takes her by the hand, "Come on, let's get you to bed." She doesn't resist or argue. She follows him into her bedroom. He pulls back her covers, and she slips out of her slippers, and robe. She slides into the bed, and he throws the covers over her. She rolls onto her side, and he flips off the light. She takes the clip out of her hair, and lays it on the bedside stand. He kisses her temple, and turns to go.

She hugs her pillow tightly. He's in the doorway when her voice tells him, "I don't want to be alone." He steps back into the room, and sheds his jacket, and tie, his shoes, and his button down shirt. He tosses his belt aside, and climbs into bed next to her wearing his slacks, and a t-shirt. He wraps his arm around her, but she moves it aside. She rolls onto her other side, and buries her face in his chest.

"It's too quiet," she tells him.

"Too quiet?" he questions.

"It shouldn't be this quiet. I just feel so empty."

"Because he's out now?"

"He should be here with me. He should be in my arms right now. He really shouldn't even be here yet at all."

"But he is."

"It's unnatural. A mother isn't supposed to bury her children, or leave the hospital without them."

"He'll be home soon enough," he promises.