Summary: This story takes place ten years into the future. The girls have grown up and married, hoping to live happily ever after. But sadly, as reality tells us, there is never a happily ever after. Now the girls must live without a husband and an unborn child. Can they deal with this and still find true happiness? Or is their world forever lost in darkness?

PS: This is for my good friends, Cassidy the Water Sage, Cassidy Herrera, DREAMCOLE, and mizunderstood247.

Disclaimer: I do not own W.I.T.C.H., nor do I own the children to be born or the boys Cole or Edward. Cole belongs to DREAMCOLE. W.I.T.C.H. and party belong to Disney. The boys (minus Cole) belong to Cassidy the Water Sage, and what I mean by it is that I'm too lazy to create my own characters, so CS (Cassidy the Water Sage) let me borrow them. They're in her story A Forgotten Past. However, Edward is totally her character, so if you even think of using him, ask her.

Chapter 11: Coming back together

With Cassidy:

"Slow down, Ed," Cassidy gasped, rushing after the speedy Edward. Edward laughed and started running backwards. "What's the matter, Cass? Too quick for ya?"

Cassidy gritted her teeth and sped after him. "I'm coming to get you!"

Edward hooted, and sprinted at full speed. He laughed in wind, glancing only a few times over his shoulder to see Cassidy's progression.

Cassidy huffed and puffed, and finally gave in. Her arms and legs burned, and she doubled over, feeling like she was about ready to puke.

Edward stopped and jogged calmly over to her. He leaned over and smiled playfully at Cassidy. "You okay?"

Cassidy looked up at him, and was surprised to find his face a mix of concern and compassion. She sighed, brushed a lock of red hair out of her face and answered, "I'm fine. I just was never a runner."

Edward laughed a bit, and Cassidy felt her heart accelerate. Even though the two had just recently met, she felt like they had known each other for years.

The young man held out his hand, extending it out for Cassidy to grasp. Cassidy took it, but her palms were sweating, and she swore he could probably feel her heart beat through the skin.

But Edward only smiled, revealing his glittering white teeth. His black hair fell gracefully over his bright, aluminous blue eyes. His pale skin might of hinted the lack of sunlight, but Edward had merely laughed the question off and said, "I burn easily. And really, do I need all those wrinkles?"

Cassidy had laughed, and her heart was pounding the entire way. Just like now.

Edward pulled Cassidy up to her feet, but he misjudged her momentium. She had began to lift herself when she was thrown back up to her feet . . . and found her face inches from Edward's.

Edward blushed humbly and pulled back. "S-sorry." He blushed a deep crimson and looked away, his face portraying a look of utter embarrassment.

A thing that Cassidy liked about Edward was that he was honest and humble. Rather than be forceful or crazed like Conner, he kept his distance and only permitted behaviors that Cassidy approved of. Being still hurt inside, Cassidy had set ground rules through her actions, keep her distance from males. Edward honored that, and only approached when Cassidy permitted.

He understands, Cassidy thought. He gives me space, listens when I have something to say, and is really genuine.

Finally partly to blame for Edward's embarrassment, Cassidy tapped his shoulder. "Sorry about that. I didn't know you were that strong."

Edward turned to face her, a weak smile on his lips. "It's okay. I just don't know my own strength, that's all. But it won't happen again, I promise."

I wish it would, Cassidy thought. She caught that thought. Strange, as for a while she felt like she never trust someone again.

It's like Edward knows exactly what I need, Cassidy thought then. It's like he read my mind, or read my life story, and understood every ounce of it.

With Irma:

Irma took the coat off the rake and called into the den, "I'm going out, okay?"

Tom stepped out and watched his daughter curiously. Only a few days ago, Irma had refused to leave her room. Now, she seemed a little too eager to leave. I would why? Tom asked himself. "Okay," Tom answered back. "Just make sure you're back for dinner."

"I promise," Irma said, smiling. She opened the door and exited the house, closing the door softly as she went.

She walked down the street to where a small, cute café laid in wait. She opened the door, the bell hanging from the door ringing happily in her ears.

"Hey, over here," a voice said. Irma turned to where it came from.

It was the man from the bookstore, the one who . . . well, let's just say he got Irma out of her shell of misery finally.

He worked at the bookstore, but only for a few casual reasons. One; it was easy cash. Two; it was quiet. Three; he could get coffee whenever he wanted, and four; he didn't have to deal with angry people.

Irma's heart pitter-pattered in her chest. The man's brown hair fell over his shoulders, ending in graceful twirls that would make a poodle jealous. His energetic green eyes were always full of life, laughing and dancing, never stopping, like a wide open tropical sea.

Irma almost thought she should feel wrong. But then again, her mother had repeatedly said, "Stop focusing on the dead and start focusing on the living. There's tons of men out there, just waiting for a woman like you."

Of course, Irma had protested against it, feeling as though she may never love again. I'm pregnant, she insisted. Who would love a widow?

But this man, this hunk, had held out his hand in warm, open greeting, coaxing her out with flirty smiles and jokes. He saw that she was pregnant, and that she wore a wedding ring. That kind of caught Irma off guard, but still, she couldn't argue against a pretty face like his.

"Hey there," he said, walking over casually to her.

Irma smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. "Hey, David."

David gestured to a near-by table and bowed gracefully. "Care to sit down, my dear?"

Irma giggled. What a gentleman.

Irma sat down, and David sat himself down. Then, the inner nudging feeling began to irritate her again. So, why not pop a few questions while waiting for their order.

After ordering drinks, Irma began the conversation with, "So, can I ask why you suddenly want to invite me here?"

David smiled playfully. "If I told you the whole truth, you might freak out." He leaned back into the chair, still smiling. "But, I'm sure you're probably wondering why I act the way I do with you when you're pregnant and a widow."

Irma's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. Her hand slipped over her belly, and she began rubbing it. "How did you know?"

David's smile weakened. "Your brother often comes to the bookstore to see his girlfriend. And sometimes while he's waiting, he and I end up chatting a bit. You know how I can be around customers."

Irma nodded. After all, she had witnessed his tactics firsthand.

David continued by saying, "Well, he told me you were back at his parents' place, and that your husband died."

Irma lowered her head. "I'd rather not talk about it."

David shifted a bit and looked completely serious. "It's okay to feel pain, Irma. Pain can be a blessing, sometimes." He looked up at the ceiling before continuing, "It's hard, I know. I've witnessed this kind of pain before."

"How?" Irma asked. Her voice cracked a bit, and she bit her lip to prevent crying.

"I lost my parents in a fire."

Irma's eyes widened. "I'm so sorry!"

David shook his head. "What hurts more is that I hardly knew them. I feel like they're only ghosts. It wouldn't hurt this much if I remember who they were. Fond memories can keep my spirits high, and even if they were bad parents, at least I'd have closure. But no. I didn't know them, so that was left as a mystery to me."

Irma couldn't explain what had drive her to do this, but she reached out and took David's smooth hand into hers. She looked into his eyes and whispered, "I truly am sorry."

David smiled bit. "But hey, I lived through the pain, and now I'm better than ever." He squeezed Irma's hand a bit before continuing, "Sometimes you need to let go of the emotions and focus more on the good times, the fun times, and the love you had for that person. Then things will put themselves in order. You don't need to heed my word for it." And at that, he winked playfully.

With Cornelia:

Cornelia sat down on the bench, tapping her fingers on the hard, smooth wood. She knew he had said he'd been here, but it was already half past three.

Where is he? Cornelia thought impatiently.

Suddenly, a voice said, "Sorry I'm late. Had a little problem with my car."

Cornelia turned to face the voice, smiling. It was the gardener, the man who had made her life turn around completely. After the episode in the garden, Cornelia found herself visiting it often, so often in fact, that the gardener had asked if she would help him managed it. She had, of course, been happy to help, and at first she worked for free. Those terms were her calling. She couldn't explain it, but something about this man made her feel . . . alive. Like she had been awakened from an ancient slumber.

The gardener held out his hand in a gentleman-like fashion, bowing his head slightly. "Shall we go?" he asked politely.

"Yes. Let's." Cornelia took his hand gingerly, as if he were but a flower.

The two walked through the park, chatting about the average so-and-so. To Cornelia, it felt like a date. Yet the gardener, whose name was Jose, made it feel like her being pampered. "You've been working so hard on the garden," he told said after giving out the invitation. "I feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

"But I want to do this," she had insisted.

Jose shook his head sternly. "No. I want to repay you. So that is why I am taking you to The Swan. My treat."

The Swan was one of the fanciest restaurants in town. Cornelia had tried to pick a dress that didn't appear too flashy, or otherwise her parents and noisy sister might start asking questions. Jose, however, came in a tuxedo. Classy, Cornelia thought. She felt almost grimy in his presence.

His hedgehog-like do gave him the classic rebel look, but his eyes gave off to the gentleness and sincerity in his soul. That's what made Cornelia's heart pitter-patter.

With Hay Lin:

Hay Lin stood behind a pillar, staring longingly out. Her grandmother came back from serving a couple by the window, and noticed her granddaughter's love-struck expression.

"Hay Lin?" she asked, waving her hand in front of Hay Lin's face.

Hay Lin blinked and looked at Yan Lin. "Huh?"

"What are you staring at?"

Hay Lin looked down in embarrassment. "No one special."

Yan Lin smirked and stopped Hay Lin from leaving her spot. "No lying, granddaughter. I know love-struck when I see it, and I know you're love-struck."

"Grandma!" Hay Lin exclaimed as they walked back toward the kitchen. "Come on, you know I still love Eric. I'm pregnant with his child."

"Well, let's both face it, kiddo. Eric ain't coming back. He's dead. And I'm sure if you saw him again, he'd tell you to keep your eyes on the living." Yan Lin pushed open the door and Hay Lin followed. "Hay Lin, there's no shame in falling in love. You've grieved a lot for Eric, but now it's time to move on. You need to come to the conclusion that there's more to life than Eric." She winked at her granddaughter. "Besides, I'm sure Eric wouldn't want to you to be a single mom and raising a kid by yourself with no spouse to help you."

Hay Lin sighed and then smiled at her grandmother. "Thanks, Grandma." She twirled around and sang, "I'm going to see No One Special."

Yan Lin laughed. Like grandmother, like granddaughter, I guess.

Hay Lin skipped to where that man sat. Everyday he came, and around the same time. Hay Lin's heart slammed against her chest, threatening to charge out full force.

"Hello," Hay Lin said breathlessly, smiling from ear to ear. Then she realized how ridiculous she must look like.

The man smiled in return, and if Hay Lin didn't feel so nervous or embarrassed, she would have burst out laughing. He seemed to be mirroring her over-eager expression.

"Hey there," the man said. He pushed his menu towards her and said, "The usual, please."

"Of course," Hay Lin said. She took the menu, floated to the kitchen, and wrote down the things the young man liked to eat here.

"Order up," she called into the kitchen. Then she went back to watching No One Special.

With Will:

"Will, honey, are you alright?" Susan asked her full grown daughter as she set the groceries down.

Will blinked and shook her head, clearing her mind of the previous thoughts. "Nothing," she murmured, putting a bag of chips in the pantry.

Susan placed her fists onto her hips and tilted her head a bit. "I don't believe so, Will. You're thinking about something, and I need to know."

When Will didn't answer, Susan asked, "Is it Matt again?"

Will stared in shock at her mother. That's not what she had been thinking about, but Susan mistook the shocked expression as a 'yes'. "Will," Susan sighed, touching her daughter's shoulder, "I understand you're hurt, but you need to put the past behind you. You're beating yourself up for no reason at all. Try looking outward. There's lots of sweet young men out there just begging to know you."

Will looked into her mother's eyes. "Really?" she asked.

Susan smiled. "Really."

Will walked over to her mother and hugged her. "Thanks, Mom."

Susan stared at her daughter in surprise. But before she could ask Will what she was thinking, she grabbed her coat and gloves and walked out the door.

Hmm, someone's on a mission, she thought as she watched her daughter leave. Strange, Will had started acting a little funny after one night in the party. That got her wondering . . .

No, Susan thought, shaking her head. Will's just probably going for a walk. After all, soon it will be a little difficult with the baby. She's really starting to show.

Susan quickly shrugged her shoulders and went back to putting groceries away. Oh well, she's old enough to take care of herself. It's time for me to stop being so motherly to her and let her spread her wings.

With Taranee:

"But, Dad," Taranee insisted, following her father through the hallway, "I'm too old to have a sitter. Way too old, in fact."

"I don't care," Lionel said sternly. "You're about nine months pregnant, and about ready to give birth any minute. You need someone to watch out for you if the baby comes." He stopped and stared down at his full-grown daughter. "And your mother and I, nor Peter, intend to sit around all day waiting for that to happen. Someone needs to make money, Taranee. Theresa has a court case to do, Peter is finishing up with his master's, and I need to help with a case, too. Those are things that can't be helped, so we improvised and got you someone to look after you. Don't think of it as a sitter. Think of it more as a friendly neighbor looking after someone's who's sick."

"But I'm not sick," Taranee stated. "I can honestly take care of myself."

Lionel shook a finger at her face. "No buts from you, young lady. That's an order. And you'll follow it, no matter what."

Taranee's shoulders sagged, and Lionel placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry. Peter picked him out. He's a really great guy, trust me. It'll be like having your best friend over. No problems."

That's what you think, Taranee thought, but she didn't say anything. She only followed him out to the front door and watched as Peter and Theresa left in one car, Peter driving.

"Car trouble?" she asked, staring with her arms crossed at the car. Lionel sighed. "Taranee, just because you're upset about the sitter, doesn't mean you can act like a teenager again. That phase was hard enough to get through once. I don't want to raise you again."

Taranee lowered her arms and sighed. "Sorry, Dad."

Lionel patted Taranee on the back. "That's alright." There was a honk from the drive-way, and a new car pulled in. Lionel smiled and clapped his hands together. "Great. He's here. I'll introduce you to him."

Taranee placed a hand on her overly-swollen belly and rubbed it in circles. "I hope you told him why he's 'sitting' me."

Lionel nodded. "I sure did. I asked him if he could watch out for you when everyone else is away. It gives your mother and I peace of mind."

Taranee only gave a weak smile and nodded as Lionel stepped away to greet the 'sitter'. A young man stepped out of the car, and as soon as he came into sight, Taranee's mouth dropped.

It was the man from the dance academy. The guy who—Taranee stopped her train of thoughts, shaking her head hard.

It was just a guy who I had met before, she silently insisted to herself as she waited for Lionel and Mystery Man to come up to the front steps.

"Taranee!" Lionel called, tearing his daughter from her inner battle. "Come over here and meet your new friend."

Taranee calmly went down the porch and walked, er, waddled, whatever really pregnant women do when they move, over to the car.

The man held out his hand, his pure white teeth showing. "It's nice to meet you, Taranee. I'm sorry didn't introduce myself earlier, so I'll make up for it. I'm Kyle."

"Kyle," Taranee repeated, shaking his huge hand. "Great to finally know the wise man's name."

Lionel pointed at his daughter and Kyle and asked, "Wait, do you two know each other?"

Kyle laughed. "Only a few seconds. I saw her at the old dance academy."

Taranee crossed her arms over her chest. "But we never did get introduced to each other better."

Kyle gave a polite bow. "And now we have, ma'am."

"This is great!" Lionel exclaimed as he walked over to his own car. "Well, you two have fun. Hope you both remember the emerencgy number!"

"Sure, Dad!" Taranee said, waving at him. "Call 9-1-1."

Kyle grinned and asked Taranee, "How do you dial 9-1-1 again?"

Taranee couldn't help but laugh at the young man's joke.

Lionel laughed, too, and retreated into his car and drove off.

Kyle then rushed up to the top of the porch and held open the door. "After you, Taranee."

Taranee smiled and ascended up. She couldn't explain why, but she was really beginning to like this dude. Really liking him.

Okay, done. Wow, my fingers hurt. Geez, I should get the fluff going. Anyway, next chapter coming soon . . . I hope . . . If I don't get writer's block in the near future.