A/N: Thanks for the feed back. Someone asked was this AU and as far as I'm concerned it isn't. In episode 2.01 Kirsten asked Marissa did she still talk to him and she said no, that she had tried at first and it got too difficult. I'm just trying to fill in that lost time. I hope that it all makes sense.

The guys at the building site gave me a hard time.

At first it had been only once a week or so, but now it was every day. I couldn't help myself.

I'd taken to eating my lunch in a hurry so that I could spend the rest of the break on the phone.

They teased me about being pussy whipped. They'd seen Theresa drop me off in the morning, then pick me up in the afternoon. They just assumed that I was talking to her.

And I didn't bother to correct them.

As soon as I finished eating, I'd take a walk, far enough away so that I was out of earshot.

Then they accused me of wanting privacy to talk dirty.

If only they knew …..

I did.

Just not with the person they imagined.

But I couldn't.

I couldn't give her hope when there wasn't any.

But still we talked.

Or more correctly, she talked and I listened.

The calls became my lifeline.

For a few minutes every day, I could remember what I'd had.

What I'd lost.

The experience was bittersweet.

It hurt to be reminded of the life that had slipped through my fingers. Yet I couldn't stop myself from partaking of the joy that the sound of her voice and her words brought to me.

It was the highlight of my day.

Of my life.

And strange as it may seem, I could tell that it was much the same for her.

No matter where she was or what she was doing, she took my calls.

I smiled to myself as I recalled some of the places that she'd been when we'd originally started this.

The first time I'd called her back, she'd been at the hairdresser's. I'd helped her to decide what color highlights she should get in her hair.

I wish that I could see how it had turned out.

The next time she was shopping with her mother.

That was particularly awkward since we both knew that Julie wouldn't have been happy to know that we were keeping in contact. She'd pretended that I was some friend from school (which wasn't all that wrong).

Now, she scheduled her appointments around lunch when she knew I'd call. That way we weren't interrupted. It made quite a change from when I'd been living in the pool house.

Seth had always seemed to have some in built sixth sense whenever I was on the phone to her, and he'd barge in and disturb us.

But now we could talk in peace.

Although, I doubted that peace was the word for it.

And yet, I found our talks calming.

Often, when she had the choice, she'd be at the beach at the lifeguard tower when we spoke.

It seemed that we were closer then.

If she couldn't get there, then she'd usually be in her room.

On her bed.

I'd lost countless night's sleep trying to imagine what that was like.

I hadn't seen Caleb's house where she was now living.

Or the room where she was now sleeping.

She'd attempted to describe it to me.

But it wasn't the same.

Nothing was the same.

Theresa had a baby growing inside her.

And it could be mine.

----

The weekends were the hardest to get through. I took every bit of overtime that was offered for two reasons; because I wanted to stockpile the money for when the baby was born, and because I wanted to be at the house as little as possible.

Just looking at Theresa made me feel guilty.

Guilty, because it was possible that I was responsible for the life growing inside her.

Probability said it was most likely Eddie's, but that didn't matter. She couldn't go back to him. So either way, this baby was my responsibility.

Guilty, because I couldn't reciprocate her feelings.

I knew that she hoped for more, hoped that we would become a couple.

I guess we were a couple … of some kind. We lived together.

It just wasn't the kind she was hoping for.

That was never going to happen. I felt nothing more for her than obligation … and deep regret. I didn't love her.

Guilty, because the person I did love was miles away, hurting as much as I was.

Guilty, because the only light in my life came from the phone calls that I made.

Phone calls that I knew would upset Theresa if she knew about them.

And so the ebb and flow of my life continued, my small pleasures coming from talking to Marissa, the only bright spot in my days.

That was until …

----

It was a Friday morning. Theresa was dropping me off in front of the work site as one of my co-workers walked by. It was Hank, one of the guys that delighted in giving me a hard time about my lunch time activities.

He stopped and turned to me as I was getting out of the car.

"Coming for a drink with us this afternoon, Atwood? Or won't the little missus let you off the ball and chain?" he teased and kept walking.

I smiled embarrassedly at the comment, deciding that it was best to just ignore it.

I turned to say good bye to Theresa only to catch the guilty look on her face.

"You never told me that you had something on," she said.

"I haven't. It's nothing special," I explained. "The guys go every Friday."

"But you never go," she pointed out.

"No. Because I'm not going to waste my money. We need it for the baby."

"We'll manage. But you have to have some enjoyment in your life. I know you're not happy here. Maybe if you spent some time with your friends, then it wouldn't be so bad."

"It's not bad."

"You spend all your time either at work or at home with me and my Mom," she said.

"What do you expect me to do? Go visit Eddie and swap stories with him?" I ask her defensively.

I regret the words as soon as they're out. But what does she expect of me? I'm trying as hard as I can.

"Just ignore Hank," I said.

"If you want to go, you should go," she said.

"I don't want to go. Just pick me up at the normal time."

"I think you should go."

"And what are you going to do?"

The doctor had told her she needed to rest, so she'd quit her job. Her mom handled taking care of the house. All she did each day after she dropped me off was to sit and wait in front of the television until it was time to pick me up. Her life was even more boring than mine.

"I'll ... I'll ... take my mom to a movie. There's this chick flick that she wants to see. We'll go out for the night. Treat ourselves. And you should do the same."

I look at her, trying to gauge if she's serious.

"I don't have any money with me," I explain. I never took my wallet to work. It was too easy to lose it.

She quickly opened her purse and handed me a twenty.

"We have to have some fun in our lives," she said, holding the money out to me.

"I'm not of age."

I know that I'm fighting this, and I also know why. But she doesn't. She's right, I'm not happy here. But I don't want to be. It's part of my punishment for screwing up her life. And mine.

"Since when has any bar in Chino cared? If you're with the guys from here, then as long as you can afford to pay, they won't question you."

I know that she's right.

She still held the twenty out in front of her.

"I don't want to see you home tonight before eight. Later if you like. Take some time. Have some fun."

I have to admit that the idea definitely appeals.

Anything appeals compared to going back to her place at the end of the day and watching her go through the motions of cooking me dinner. I used to volunteer to cook, but she insisted that she needed to feel like she was contributing something.

I tentatively reach for the money.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

She nods.

"I'll see you later tonight," she said and then adds as an after thought, "Do you need me to come and get you?"

"No. I'll get one of the guys to drop me off."

She nods, pulls the car from the curb and drives off down the street with a wave.

I watch her go, quickly pocket the twenty, and enter the site to start my day.

This was going to be a different kinda day.

Little did I know ….