After that dream, I couldn't see Dimitri afterwards. I was near my due day, when he came to visit me. You were off with Eric and my dad, doing business with some hotel owner. I'd been watching Mean Girls, when there was a knock. I set my ice cream down on the table, and opened the door.

He was there. I'd been smiling, thinking it was you, but my smile fell once I was it was him.

I was ready, to leave him behind. "I love you he blurted it out."

My water broke.

His eyes widened, along with mine. I felt the rush of the liquid, down my legs. We both stood there, it took him a while, but he reacted.

"Where are your stuff?" he demanded. I told him my bag was in the closet, he went to get it, while I supported myself with the doorknob. He slung the bag over his shoulder, holding me by the waist, locking the door, as he shut it.

He took me to the hospital, and called you.

It was almost as if the baby was waiting for you, because the moment you arrived at my hospital bed, the contractions came faster, and five minutes later it was time to push. I felt like I was being ripped apart. I felt like I was on fire, as they told me to push.

I was eerily calm about it, even though I wanted to rip them apart. But you were holding my hand. You let me squeezed it time after time, with such a force, you needed on of those things, because you couldn't move your hand afterwards. Your hand was swollen, but it was because of you that Lucas was born. You were giving me your strength.

Lucas was born, I heard him cry, and I saw your proud smile.

It was enough to make me forget.

After the baby was born, when you asked why Dimitri had brought me here, I told you it was because he was the first number that appeared in the phone.

You believed me.

.

.

.

As more months went by, Lucas was growing up to be like you. At four months old, he had your sleek, black hair, and your sapphire eyes. He wasn't as pale as you were, he was slightly lighter than me.

I once again wasn't seeing Dimitri.

I tried hard, not to see him again, afraid of what I would to, but it was impossible.

And I saw him.

Again.

Again.

And again.

Day after day.

And somewhere in between Lucas' first two years, we fell apart.