"Cory!"

I glared at my husband who didn't seem to realize how monumentally bad our situation could possibly become.

"What? Oh, right, sorry - the ring… Don't worry about it."

'Don't worry about it?' How could I not worry about it!?!?! If Angela found it her heart would be ripped out of her chest. I had a strange urge to hit Cory and knock that smug smirk off his face. He reached for his pocket.

And he pulled out a small box. A box I recognized. The ring!!!

I could feel my eyes go round in astonishment and I no longer felt the urge to be violent.

"The ring!! Cory - but how…?" I looked at him questioningly and he started answering before I'd finished the question.

"She asked for a pen in the table by his chair and when I opened the drawer I found this little thing here. Nearly had a heart attack too realizing what would happen if she saw. It's been burning a hole in my pocket since I picked it up." He paused and I opened my mouth to ask, but before I could he answered my unasked question shaking his head and reading my mind, "No. She never saw it."

I lay there gaping at him, speechless in shock.

"You're amazing. You know that?" I said teasingly, a grin spreading on my face. "Yeah, I know." He replied arrogantly with a cheesy smile.

I buried my face into his shoulder, giggling, my arms wrapping their way around his waist.

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The next morning I didn't wake up with the sun. Shawn's curtains were dark, and I slept straight through morning into the afternoon. When I finally woke up I was pleasantly disoriented. Reality hadn't sunk in yet and the only thing I was confused about was the time. For the first time in months I woke up knowing exactly where I was, and it felt right. I was home.

A bubbly happy feeling rose in my chest as I gazed around the room. I still had that subconscious notion that he would just walk through one of these doors in a moment. Maybe he'd come in with a tray of breakfast, a smile on his face, his hair bed-wrecked in that adorably cute unruly way. He'd be wearing a robe and my favorite red plaid pajama pants and he'd have the news paper under one arm. Then we'd eat breakfast in bed, me pressed up against his chest, two cups of coffee on the tray, sharing a waffle. He'd have one section of the paper and I'd have another. And things would be perfect.

I'd never even been in this room before yesterday, but just waking up this morning, I knew that that fantasy was how things should be in this room. It was right.

And then I remembered how very wrong I was. Shawn wasn't here. Shawn wouldn't be here for a very long time at least. The pleasant happy feeling vanished, leaving me how I'd mostly been recently; anxious, upset, and confused.

I looked at the clock and gasped. 12:17 P.M. - wow, I'd slept late! I need to get up and go visit before visiting hours close!

So I hopped out of bed and got changed, pulling clothes out of the suitcase that had been dragged into this room. On my way out the door I scanned the bookcase and pulled one off the shelf Shawn had been telling me about and I'd been meaning to read. Than after a quick hello to the Matthews residence, I was off to the hospital again.

On my way there however a thought occurred to me and on a whim I entered a store. I loved this apartment, and Shawn wouldn't be able to take care of it for a while. So I would for him.

It was a split second decision, but once I saw the "We're Hiring" sign of the restaurant I walked in, intent on getting a job. Topanga had been bugging me lately about what I would be doing. And although I wanted to, I know she was right when she said I couldn't just wait around for him to wake up. There were bills to pay and my life to live… even if it revolved around an unresponsive man in a hospital bed.

But a few minutes later I walked out a bit more down-hearted than usual. Knowing I would be starting as a waitress the next afternoon. It wasn't the best job but it was a job and I didn't intend to keep it long. Topanga had already told me that she called and talked to the dean of admissions and if I wanted to I could finish out my last two years of college in Fordham U with Cory and… and well Shawn, if… I winced, ignoring the doubt creeping through my gut.

Without even looking where I was walking I wound up right outside his room. 715... So I sighed and went in.

Every time I saw him he looked better, which made me feel worse. It was like he was tantalizing me, the rest of him getting better, except the one part of him I wanted the most - his mind.

I grabbed his hand, which was not bandaged today, and sat down in my usual chair. I stroked it sweetly and talked to him softly as I did every day.

"Hey Shawn. It's me. I love you. And I wish you would wake up. Please wake up…" But of course he didn't , and the beeping following his heartbeat ticked on unrelentingly. So I talked over it. I told him I'd gotten a job, and about how I would be going to his school just like in Penbrook. And I told him how much I liked the apartment, and the book I'd grabbed off the shelf. Then I told him how scared I was.

I didn't mean to get emotional on him, but when you have an out loud conversation that's one way all you can really do is spout what you're thinking, and all I ever thought about was him, and how scared I was.

"Shawn. I'm afraid. I'm afraid you're gonna leave me. And you promised you wouldn't but what if this is stronger than you. I love you because I know you never would voluntarily leave me, but I need you. I need you to wake up. Shawn please." And with that I leaned forward into an upright fetal position leaning my forehead onto his hand on the bed and crying - again.

"Please don't leave me." I said quietly, sobbing as I unleashed all my pent up fear. "Please."

Then after a few minutes I pulled myself together again and I apologized meekly. Feeling awkward as I still don't know if he can hear me. It had been over a week now and he wouldn't wake up. The doctor's were using words like MRI, and brain damage, and I just didn't know what to believe.

So I told him, "I believe you're gonna get better… Because if you don't, I don't know what I'll do. I'm sorry Shawn. I'm so sorry this happened, and I'm sorry that I'm freaking out on you right now… I'm just scared. And I wish you would wake up. Ok I'm gonna stop whining now, and try to read some of this book. I'll tell you if I think I like it; I know you did." And with that I wrapped up the sappy falling apart Angela moment and tried to make my stomach stop churning long enough to concentrate on the book.

It was actually a good book and I was really getting into it. But I kept yawning and my eyes kept dropping. Even with the ridiculously late morning, I still hadn't slept enough the last few days and I felt my eyes trying to stay shut every time I blinked. Finally I decided not to fight it and I drifted off to sleep in the reclining chair next to his bed, my hand still holding his. And I slept, pretending that I was home, in his bed, and the hand I was holding was indeed his - but he was only asleep next to me. It was a nice dream.