Stephen watched Robert shuffle slowly through the stack of old photographs he'd presented to him. Occasionally Robert would stop and ask questions. "Who's this man sitting beside Carolyn at the table?" "Her brother Alex." "Who's this woman with her by the barbecue?" "Her cousin's wife Janice."

"Who's this guy standing with the two of you? And where are you exactly—were you on vacation?"

Stephen craned his neck to see the photo as Robert held it out. "That's Alan."

Robert looked again more closely. "Are you related? There's more than a bit of a resemblance."

Stephen smiled and shook his head. "We were asked that a lot. No, we were just friends. Actually we were friends-in-law. I went to high school with his wife. She's the one taking the photograph. We all took a trip to Puerto Vallarta together."

Robert kept scanning the picture. "How did Carolyn and he get on? Were they friendly?"

"Yes," Stephen answered, Robert realized, a bit too loudly and quickly. "If you're thinking they were more than friends, though, you're wrong. Carolyn always used to joke with me that Alan was my slightly less attractive twin. That makes her sound catty and cruel—she wasn't; she just humoured me in my many insecurities. To reassure me she'd often say that she'd gotten the better deal."

Robert looked up. "Better deal than whom? Your friend?"

"Yes, my friend Elizabeth. Alan's wife."

"Do you have a photograph of her?"

Stephen reached for the stack and began to sort through it.

"So what happened during this magical night? I want details—but nothing too explicit. You know I don't handle the idea of parental sex very well."

Anna pressed her lips together. "Good thing for you, then, that nothing really happened. Duke left the Port Charles Hotel lounge and I was sitting alone being miserable. Robert sent over a bottle of champagne. We shared it, talked for a while, danced a bit. We always loved to dance. Then he walked me home. It was nice."

"Did you invite him in for a nightcap?"

Anna hesitated before she replied. "No. Duke was there waiting at the suite."

"Would you have invited Dad in for a nightcap if Duke hadn't been there?"

Anna hesitated again. "I think so. I was a little bit tipsy."

A smile slowly spread over Robin's lips. "Okay. But the real question is—were your hands sweating?"

Anna chewed her lip again and smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, they were."

"Here. This is Elizabeth."

Robert took the picture from Stephen. Elizabeth and Carolyn were standing together, arms around each other's waists, smiling and relaxed. They were wearing sun dresses, tanned, hair loose, both of them perhaps a few sheets to the wind. They were happy. Elizabeth, a tall blonde, towered over Carolyn, dark-haired and petite. If their husbands were near twins, the two women were a study in contrast.

Robert considered how to broach his next subject. "Elizabeth is very attractive. Were you always just friends? Or did you have some kind of romantic history?"

Stephen shook his head. "We were never more than friends. Look, I get it—she's beautiful. I could always see that, especially when we were both teenagers. But I never thought of her that way."

"Did Carolyn ever ask you about your feelings for Elizabeth?"

This time Stephen nodded. "Yes. When we first started dating. I tried to explain it to her, said I looked at Elizabeth more as a sister than anything. But that's not really true; that's not exactly the reason. Anyway, once Carolyn got to know us both better, she told me that she could sense there wasn't anything between us. As far as I knew, Carolyn never felt threatened."

"Did Elizabeth and Carolyn become friends?"

Stephen smiled. "Yes. Carolyn was really generous with herself. Everyone loved her. And she had this amazing ability to connect with other people."

"You have to let Dad know how you're feeling," Robin ordered. "As soon as possible. You've spent so many years apart; there's no reason why you should waste more time."

Anna looked down. "There is a reason, a very good reason. I'm with Duke. I've promised Duke that we can try again. How can I go back on my promise?"

Robin took Anna's hand. "Uncle Duke wouldn't want you to be with him out of some sense of obligation. He wouldn't want your pity."

Anna looked up into Robin's eyes. "It's not pity exactly, or obligation. I know how difficult it is to resume a life that's been interrupted. I wanted to help him adjust, to feel normal again."

Robin smiled. "And you've done that. He feels so normal he's gallivanting around town at all hours setting up another club. Now I think it's time you resumed your old life, connected again with the person who made you the happiest I've ever seen you."

"Haven't you heard that you can't go home, Robin?" Anna asked.

Robin shook her head. "You can if you go back to it by moving forward. Don't go backwards, Mom. Do a big circle. It is possible. Look at me."

Robert could tell that Stephen was exhausted. He reordered the photographs into a neat pile and slid it across the table. But he had one question left.

"Stephen, earlier when I asked what Carolyn might have been excited about, you told me you had no idea. But I don't think that was true. I think you do have some idea. I need you to tell me. Because no matter how trivial, this information may help us with our investigation."

Stephen looked at his hands and clasped them together. He said nothing.

Robert waited. Then he persisted. "I think you know what she was talking about, if not to whom. What was she excited about that day?"

Stephen didn't look up. "I didn't tell the detectives this because it seemed too personal, and I couldn't see how it had anything to do with the case. I wasn't withholding information. I just wanted to keep it between Carolyn and me. But maybe she told that person on the phone. I can't imagine who she'd confide it to." He paused and took a deep breath.

"Carolyn and I were trying to get pregnant. She was a week and a half late and feeling—unwell . When I asked her if I could pick something up for her on the way home, I was asking if I should pick up a pregnancy test. She told me no, not yet, she would get one herself in a few days."

Robert nodded, said "Thank you, Stephen," and stood. He put out his hand. The two men shook. Stephen turned and walked out of the sports bar. Robert sat down heavily. He felt his jaw clench. The muscles between his shoulder blades knotted. A jolt of pain travelled up his spine to the base of his skull.

After saying goodbye to Robin at the cafe, Anna drove to the police station to check on the status of "things." Five hours later, at nearly nine o'clock, she was finally pulling into her parking spot at the Metro Court, tired and hungry, having eaten nothing since lunch. She stopped at the restaurant hoping to place an order, intending to bring something up to her suite. But that's when she saw Robert, alone at the bar, head in hands, shoulders slumped. She could tell something was very, very wrong.

She approached him cautiously and slid onto the stool beside him. "Hello, Robert. You look like hell. Anything you want to talk about?"

Robert slid his fingers down from his forehead to his chin, where they stayed. He remained hunched. "I haven't had the best day. But it's been productive, I hope. You could offer to buy me a drink."

Anna glanced away, unsure. "How many have you already had? Should you have another?"

Robert dropped one hand down to the bar, propped his cheek up with the other, and looked over at her seriously. "I haven't had anything to drink today except for coffee and club soda. If you don't believe me, ask the man."

Anna made eye contact with the bartender, who'd overheard their conversation. "He's telling the truth," he said. "He's stone-cold sober."

Anna looked back at Robert. "You don't look in the mood for champagne. A martini? Scotch?"

"Scotch, please. And a small confession: I was waiting for you. I needed a drink but I didn't want to drink alone. I promise, no more than one. Though it should be a double. And once we get our order, let's try to get a table somewhere." He darted his eyes up at the bartender. "You can't get any privacy here."

Luckily the restaurant wasn't busy that night and they were able to move somewhere quiet. Anna wanted to order supper but wondered if it would be rude. She asked Robert if he was hungry and he said no. She had a bad feeling she'd be eating taco chips from a vending machine in a couple of hours. In the meantime she'd be drinking wine on a very, very empty stomach. She made a mental note to go slow."

"So, Robert, what's gotten you so upset?"

He told her about his meeting with Stephen Corbett. Anna listened to him repeat the details in the file. When he finished, she observed, "We knew all of this before, Robert. You said the day was productive, but awful. What did you learn from Mr. Corbett that upset you so much?"

Robert met and held her gaze. They looked at each other for a moment. "Carolyn Thompson may have been pregnant when she went missing. They were trying to have a child. Stephen and she had reason to believe they might have conceived."

Anna exhaled audibly, as though the breath had been gently but forcefully pushed out of her.

Robert's face was grim. "How the hell am I, or how are you, supposed to be objective here?"

Anna shook her head. "I don't know, Robert—maybe this time objectivity isn't what's called for. Maybe our similar experience will help us figure out what happened to Carolyn."

Robert threw back the last of his drink. "You know, we've never talked about this before. We've carefully avoided any and all reference to it."

Anna nodded. "Yeah. I know."

"We were trying. If things had been different, we could have had another daughter. A son."

Anna said nothing.

"The bitch of it all is that we thought we were safe, that we could finally forget about Faison, the Cartel, the Jeromes, the Cassadines. We thought we could be normal family. The marriage, the honeymoon, the house, the idea of another child. In hindsight it all seems like a farce. A fantasy."

Anna took Robert's hands. "Don't say that, Robert. Please don't say that. We had everything for a short time. And it was real. Don't make it sound meaningless. It was the happiest time of my life."

Robert looked wounded. "I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. It's just that it couldn't last. And everything was worse after, for me at least, knowing what we'd lost."

They sat holding hands for a moment, saying nothing. Robert broke the silence. "I've always wondered but never had the courage to ask. I'm not even sure I want to know."

"What, Robert? Ask me now."

He looked away from her. "Were you pregnant when Faison took you? All these years I've worried that you were. I've wondered if I should hate him for more than just losing you. I assumed that, if you were, you lost the baby because of the explosion."

Anna stroked Robert's clasped hands with her thumbs. "No, Robert. I wasn't pregnant. All Faison did was perhaps prevent us from having another child. I may never have been able to conceive anyway. You know the chances were low."

Robert's body slumped. Anna could tell that he was profoundly relieved. She was glad, and reminded herself that in some ways he was very fragile. He didn't need to know everything. And she needed to take care of him.

She asked if he wanted another drink, and he said no. She asked him if he wanted to come up to her suite before he went home, and he said yes. They didn't speak in the elevator, both exhausted. But then in the silence Anna's stomach growled. Robert lifted his eyebrows in question. Anna shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't have any supper."

The elevator opened at her floor. She stepped out; Robert stayed inside. He pushed a button. "I'll be right back," he told her. And disappeared.

She went into her suite and into the bathroom, removed her makeup, changed into something more comfortable and threw on her dressing gown. Twenty minutes after she sat down on the sofa she heard a soft knock at the door.

It was Robert, paper bag in hand. "It was the only place still open," he explained. "I come bearing Chinese take-out."

"By pure coincidence your favourite meal," she laughed.

They sat on the sofa and ate directly from the boxes. He passed her his; she passed him hers. He expressed surprise at the amount of food she consumed; she expressed surprise that he never grew tired of lobster rolls. When they were finished and the sparse leftovers had been placed in the refrigerator, she asked him to stay. She had a second bedroom, she pointed out. And she could tell that he was tired.

"I don't have my toothbrush, Luv," was Robert's response.

Anna said nothing, lifted her index finger to indicate she had a solution, walked to the closet and produced a toothbrush still in its packaging. Robert raised his eyebrows. "Someone seems a bit too prepared for unexpected overnight male guests," he observed.

Anna smiled. "Look more carefully at the toothbrush, Robert," she instructed as she handed it over, and he looked. It was tiny, pink, and the packaging promised it would play one of five special tunes while he brushed.

"We've been having trouble getting Emma to clean her teeth," Anna laughed. "It's a bit small, but I think it will do for you for one night."

"I like it," Robert smiled. "Don't throw it out once I'm done with it. Keep it for me here. You never know when I might need it again."

Half an hour later he was in the guest room turning down the sheets. There was a knock at the door. He walked over and opened it.

"Hi," Anna said. She leaned on the door jamb. "Do you have everything you need?"

Robert smiled. "Yeah. Thank you."

Anna nodded. "Could I come in for just a second?"

Robert hesitated. "Sure," he said, and opened the door wider.

Anna walked in, her arms crossed, hugging herself. She looked cold. "Are you okay?" Robert asked.

Anna nodded. Then she took a step toward him, opened her arms, reached for his hands, held them for a moment, and finally moved in to hug him. Robert held her, leaning his cheek against her hair. He had to remind himself to breathe.

"This is going to sound odd, Robert. But can I sleep in here with you? I don't want to be alone."

Robert pulled back, looked at her, touched her cheek, and nodded. Anna climbed into the bed; Robert got in after her. They lay together, his chest to her back, his hand wrapped around her waist. Anna fell asleep almost immediately. Robert remained awake longer, wondering at the sensation of being together with her in the bed. It was so familiar and yet so strange. He made himself remember how it felt in case it didn't happen again.

For a short, cruel moment when he woke up the next morning, Robert thought they were back in the bedroom he and Anna had shared in the old Webber house. They'd shifted positions in the night; he was now on his back and she was turned in toward him, her head on his chest. Before he'd remembered that they weren't in their marriage bed, that they were ex-spouses and ex-lovers, he nuzzled the top of her head, kissed her hair, stroked it with his free hand, breathed in her scent. And then he remembered, froze, prayed she was still asleep, that he hadn't woken her. He became acutely aware that he was aroused, and wondered how he could extricate himself without Anna becoming similarly aware. And at that moment, she spoke.

"Good morning, Robert." Her voice was low, relaxed. She turned her head to look up at him and smiled broadly. "I feel wonderful. I haven't slept that well in—actually, I don't remember how long." With that, she stretched. Robert shifted himself slightly to avoid the reach of her left hand, extended down across his abdomen to his hips, trying to prevent an awkward collision. "What time is it?" she asked.

"I don't know," he answered. "The arm with my wrist watch is somewhere underneath you."

Anna frowned. "Just look at the clock radio on the nightstand. Behind me."

Robert lifted his head off the pillow. "7:20," he announced.

Anna jolted and propped herself up on one arm. "Damn it, damn it, I should already be at the office. I must have forgotten to set the alarm. I've got to go get ready." She started to get out of bed and then looked back at Robert. Something had to be said. Robin was right.

"Robert, . . ."

He didn't let her continue. "Anna," he offered, "you don't have to say anything. Everything's good."

"But Robert," she tried to continue.

Again, he cut her off. "We just needed each other last night after a stressful day. We discussed something difficult that we—that I—needed to discuss. Then we were there for each other as good friends. There's nothing more to it than that. Remember all those times I slept on your couch when you and Robin were threatened? It was exactly the same thing."

Anna stared at him. "Except you weren't on the couch. We were in the same bed. In the past I always insisted you sleep somewhere else, on the floor, in a chair. So don't you think that the fact we were together might have been significant?"

Robert seemed uncomfortable. "I just thought you'd mellowed in your old age. You know, dropped the overdeveloped British prudery and sense of decorum."

Anna took one of his hands. "When I woke up, you were kissing me, touching my hair, the way you used to when we were together."

Robert's gaze darted away. "I momentarily forgot when and where I was."

"That may be so," she continued, "but I knew when and where I was, and it made me incredibly happy. And then you stopped."

Robert looked back at her again and their eyes locked. Very slowly, Anna leaned in, and then they kissed, at first tentatively, hesitantly, unsure, and then with more confidence as their bodies remembered and responded. Anna, on top, was at an advantage; she pressed in to deepen their connection and pulled back when feeling overwhelmed. Robert could only respond; he wanted to pull her down to him, make her commit to the intensity, but sensed that she needed to be in control. And when she finally pulled back to look at him, her hands pressing gently down on his chest, he let her go.

She stared at him for a moment. Then she ordered, "Say my name, Robert."

Robert felt his stomach drop. It was a familiar and frequent request she'd made of him long ago. She claimed she could read his love for her in the way that he spoke that single word. Now he could barely get it out. "Anna." He still felt the love but also loss, regret, and pain.

She smiled sadly, leaned down, and kissed him once more. She touched his cheek. "I have to get ready," she said, and left the room.