Author's Note: I'm really, really sorry it's taken me so long to update! I got hit hard this past week with assignment so I've just now found the time to post. On top of that, one of the reviews I got last week kinda disheartened me a bit and I stopped writing the story altogether, so the only chapters I have done are this one and chapter 8 since I needed to do a little bit more backstory for chapter 7. I plan to write chapter 7 within the next couple of days and get it posted for you guys to read. I had hoped to stay ahead several chapters but that's not going to happen. Anyway, this chapter and the next will both start off in the past and end in the present as my explanation of how they got to this point is coming to a close. It's also a bit longer, so I hope you like that, at least. Also, if you want to review, I'm sorry to say you will have to log in as I no longer accept anonymous reviews. So, yeah, I'll stop babbling now and let you get to the story...

Disclaimer: Not mine…so not mine. Sad day.

It was a happy time for them. Kate's libido was in overdrive for the next several weeks, and Rick was loving every minute of it, even though he found it hard to keep up with her desires to have her way with him multiple times in one day—sometimes immediately after the last time. All in all, however, he noticed a self-satisfied smirk every time he looked into a mirror, and his heart, mind, and body had never felt better.

He quickly discovered that walking by the baby section of any store without buying anything was a very difficult task. Kate, of course, teased him incessantly, but he later discovered that she was just as guilty. It started out as a few toys and in a matter of a few weeks turned into outfits that would suit either a boy or a girl, even though Rick was insistent that the baby was going to be female.

Then early one morning, he found himself being shaken violently awake. Opening his eyes to a pale and drawn face with dark circles that only slightly resembled his wife, he was immediately alert. A painstaking drive and a long wait at the emergency room later, his world was crushed—and he knew hers was, too. They would never know.

She cried herself to sleep cuddled against his body. He could only lay awake, wondering why they had to suffer through this. He wanted so badly to fix it, but knew he couldn't. When dawn finally broke, he gave up on sleep and opted to relieve the restlessness by writing, but nothing came. Not a word.

What seemed like hours later, he looked up from the blank page and blinking cursor to find her leaning against the doorframe with a cup of coffee in hand. She smiled tentatively, a haunted look in her eyes and her face drawn. He abandoned his computer, kissing her forehead and pulling her into a warm embrace that stifled the sobs that immediately began wracking her body.

Rick felt so helpless. He pulled away gently to look at her tear-stained face and red-rimmed eyes, and realized that despite her visage, she was still just as beautiful now as she had been yesterday and the day before…and the day he met her. They were both heartbroken, but what really mattered was that somehow, they would make it through this. He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers.

She gently pushed him away, shaking her head. "No. Rick, I can't." The confusion he felt must have shown on his face. "I don't feel…" New tears spilled down her cheeks

His hands cupped her face and he brushed his thumbs across the wetness. "Shh… It's all right. You don't have to explain yourself." He leaned his forehead against hers, eyes closed. "I understand." And he did, despite being a little upset at the slight rejection.

It went on like that for days. Then days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. The lack of intimacy, he could understand, but when he reached for her, she shied away from him. He was her husband. He was supposed to be there to comfort her when she needed it most, but she wouldn't let him.

What hurt the most was that she thought he had strayed. The look of betrayal on her face the last night he saw her alone—without a lawyer or one of the boys from the precinct the back her up—had sent him reeling. He hadn't slept well since then—since reading those vile letters. They'd been so happy and then everything changed so much and so quickly he didn't know how to fix it even though he wanted to with every ounce of his being.

She hadn't accepted anything from him since she'd left—not words, not apologies, and certainly not anything material. He still had the bracelet he'd meant to give her that night. In truth, he was afraid to even offer it. She might think he was trying to buy her love, and he didn't want that. He just wanted her, and he wished he could tell her. He wished she would listen.

But she wouldn't, and that's why when he turned into the little alcove that held the law office's elevators, his heart jumped into his throat and he stopped so quickly he almost tripped over his own two feet. She was facing away from him, but he knew it was her the moment he caught sight of the brown hair so neatly tucked into a bun. His fingers tingled, and he ached to run his fingers through that fall of silk once more. He banished the image of it spread over her pillow as he made love to her as quickly as it came to mind.

She turned then, as if sensing him. Green eyes immediately found his, and even after all the years they had been together and all the problems they'd had, he still felt that little jolt to his system. He held her gaze for mere seconds, trying to communicate everything in that span. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was for not being able to help her, for choosing to spend so much time on his book instead of with her, and for not chasing after her—something that meant that terribly sad look would be gone from her eyes. She looked away before he got the chance.

He cautiously stepped toward the elevators while keeping his distance from her. By then, she had faced back toward the elevator, her body angled away from his. The realization came that this was their first time "alone" since their last fight. He wanted to tell her that he still loved her—that he wanted another chance to prove it to her. Instead, he said, "Have you read Cold Heat yet?" It came out as rough and uncertain.

"I think I already know what it's about," she replied tersely, not looking at him.

"You really should. It might surprise you," he told her softly, giving her a sidelong glance.

Her eyes flicked toward his, but she said nothing.

The elevator doors opened, and she stepped in. He had the presence of mind not to join her, waiting for the doors to close. He'd catch the next one.

He only hoped his words stuck with her enough to take his suggestion to heart. He needed her to read the book—one portion in particular. He could only keep his fingers crossed.

I hope you "liked" the update. I know this isn't the best story ever, but I do like to try and finish what I've started if it's worth it... So let me know what you think. I love reviews. Reviews make me feel better. :-)