More Than Luck

By: Kadi

Rated: M

Chapter 12

Light was just beginning to filter in through the large picture windows of hotel bedroom when Andy woke. It was only barely dawn, and a glance at the clock assured him that it was still a good two hours before the time he normally woke in the morning. Yet, despite the very little amount of sleep he had the night before, he wasn't interested in burying his head and closing out the world as he normally did at this hour. A long expanse of bare, pale skin drew his attention and he leaned up on his elbow, head in his hand, to let his gaze follow its length.

The duvet was bunched around her hips as she lay, sprawled on her stomach, head turned away from him and still sleeping. By his estimation they hadn't been asleep for very long, but he would need to get her home soon, preferably before the kid was awake. At least, he knew that would be her preference. Andy glanced at the clock again and a smile tugged at his lips. He leaned over and trailed his fingers up her back, lips following their path. He felt her shift, heard her sigh. He smoothed her hair back from her neck and trailed kisses across it to her cheek.

"Sharon." His hand slid back down her side, beneath the duvet.

"Hmm." She moved, sliding back against his warmth. Her eyes fluttered but didn't open.

"We need to get up." His lips moved back to her neck, then to her shoulder.

Another sigh was forthcoming, she lifted her head and pushed her hair back. It took her eyes a moment to focus. She had the heavy feeling of too little sleep, and her body ached in ways she had forgotten that it could, but none of it was altogether unpleasant. "Time?"

He found her monosyllabic incoherence first thing in the morning adorable. Andy smiled. "Early. Not quite five."

Sharon groaned again. She let her head fall back against the pillow, but she was watching him. "Coffee?"

He rose, and reached over her for the phone beside the bed. "I'll call down for it."

"Hm." She lay there for another moment before she pushed herself up, pulling the duvet around her as she did. Sharon looked around the room, and after spotting his shirt, she shuffled over in the duvet to scoop it off the floor. Once she had it on, she tossed the duvet back onto the bed and made her way into the outer room.

She returned with both their bags, which she placed on the foot of the bed. Sharon tucked a lock of hair behind her ear while she opened hers to see what Gavin had provided. When she pulled out jeans and a formfitting blouse, Andy found an entirely new list of reasons to love that lawyer. He rolled off the bed and moved to stand behind her. He curled one arm around her waist, while the other crossed over her chest, then he drew her back against his him. He nosed her hair out of his way and kissed her neck. "Morning beautiful."

"Mmm…" Her head fell back against his shoulder, and her arms lifted to rest over his. Their fingers twined. "Morning." Her eyes closed, a smile tugged at her lips when he continued to kiss his way down her neck to her shoulder. "If you start that, we'll never get out of here."

"I wouldn't complain." His arms dropped, and his hands slid up under the hem of the shirt.

"Andy…" She shivered against him. His fingers danced across her stomach, began sliding up her ribcage.

"Hm?" She had only bothered to close a single button. He undid that easily enough and started tugging the shirt down her arms. The knock on the door was room service bringing their coffee. It was his turn to sigh. "Damn."

Sharon laughed. She hitched the shirt back up and held it closed with one hand. "Go get the coffee," she walked toward the bathroom. "Then you can join me in the shower."

Andy didn't have to be told twice. He grabbed his pants on the way out of the room. He had once thought that woman was going to be the end of him. He was finding, with large degrees of pleasure, that was still true. He just really didn't mind anymore.

By some small miracle they managed to get checked out of the hotel by six-thirty. They picked up breakfast on the way back to Sharon's condo from a diner that was well liked by the squad. When they arrived, Andy carried Sharon's bag up, along with the bags holding the cartons of breakfast while she dealt with the coffee.

At her door, Sharon paused, key poised in front of the lock. Her head tilted and she slanted a look at him. "Is Julio a morning person?"

"I've never really thought about it. Why?" It was an odd question, and his look relayed his confusion at it.

"I'm just hoping that if we wake him up getting into the condo," she drawled, "that I won't get shot before he realizes that it's us."

Andy laughed. "That might depend on how many of those movies they watched and how annoying the kid decided to be."

"I was afraid of that." She nodded slowly and slipped the key into the lock. She turned it just as quietly as she could. Sharon eased the door open and glanced inside. The condo was still dark. They both eased inside and moved with as much stealth as they could manage. Sharon had Andy leave her bag against the wall and follow her into the kitchen.

The camp beds had been set up in the living room, but aside from the two sleeping men on her floor, she saw nothing else out of place. The food and coffee was left on the breakfast bar while Sharon moved down the hall to peek in on Rusty. He too was sprawled out, completely unaware of the world around him. She eased his door closed again and slipped back down the hall. Sharon moved her bag to her room before rejoining Andy in the kitchen. She smiled that he had already located plates and silverware.

Low voices and the smell of strong coffee drew the attention of the two men sleeping in the living room. Julio was awake first, and went still, hand reaching for the gun he had kept near him, until he realized he was hearing the Captain and Lieutenant Flynn. He exhaled slowly and ran his hand through his hair as he got up. He walked into the kitchen and gratefully accepted the coffee when it was held out. "Ma'am. Lieutenant." While he said nothing, he smirked slightly that they were both in jeans this morning, and not the evening wear he'd last seen them in.

"Good morning Julio." Sharon leaned back against the opposite counter, sipping her coffee. "If I feed you can we agree to never discuss this?"

He grinned outright and chuckled quietly. "Discuss what ma'am?"

She flashed a relieved smile and pushed off the counter. She opened the cartons containing eggs, breakfast potatoes, bacon and freshly baked croissants. There was a tray of fresh fruit as well. Sharon enlisted Andy in helping her carry it all to the table. Buzz joined them there a few minutes later.

"Thank you, both, for staying with Rusty last night. He'd never admit it, but I know he was looking forward to it…" It was directed more at Buzz, whom the boy had spent the most time with. "I hope he was well behaved?"

"It was my pleasure," Buzz said. "We had fun."

"Rusty was okay, ma'am." Julio told her. "It wasn't a problem. And anything he says I taught him… it was really Buzz."

While Andy snorted, she shook her head. "I'll keep that in mind, Detective."

"They were both well behaved," Buzz said. "For the most part."

"Hm." Sharon looked at Andy. "It's that last piece that scares me."

"With good reason," He decided.

After breakfast they said goodbye to Buzz and Julio, and Andy helped Sharon put away the camp beds and clean up. She let Rusty sleep, and started a pot of coffee. Andy only stayed with her for another hour. They were back at work the next day and both needed the rest. There was also the added fact that they'd stopped being able to keep their hands to themselves and they had promised Rusty there would be no more floor shows.

There was a buzz of anticipation which stirred the office on Thursday morning. Flynn was there at his usual time, coffee in hand, and looking through the reports from SIS on the letter which had been left on his door. Provenza kept watching him, but he ignored his partner. Sykes was, as usual, oblivious to everything around her while Buzz and Sanchez were as good as their word and gave no indication that anything out of the ordinary had taken place over the course of their holiday vacation.

Provenza shared a look with Tao who just shrugged. Whether the remainder of the night had gone well or not, it didn't look like they would ever know. The older lieutenant could hardly complain, it was being kept out of the office, which he had been particularly concerned about. At least, so far it was. The familiar sound of heels moving toward them meant they were about to find out. He and Tao glanced at each other again.

The Captain swept into the murder room, moving between desks with her usual grace and ease as she made her way toward her office. "Good morning everyone." She paused near her office as the round of greetings echoed back at her and let her gaze sweep the room. Rusty waved as he walked through on his way to his cubicle, leaving nothing at all out of the ordinary for a workday.

"Captain, we have the first round of reports from SIS," Flynn waved the file. "To sum it up, there was a whole lot of nothin'."

"We knew that was going to happen," she stated with a sigh. "Alright, until something else comes up let's work it. I'd like Lieutenant Provenza to take lead on this, the letter was left at your house, addressed to you," she cut off his protest before it could start.

Always with the rules. He almost smiled. "Yes ma'am."

"Good." She disappeared into her office at that point, only to reemerge a few minutes later to retrieve coffee and the reports left by Robbery Homicide over the cases they had caught during Major Crimes holiday hiatus.

The Captain set the tone and the day fell into its usual routine. Provenza breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe it wasn't going to be so bad after all.

By noon they had caught a case of their own, the missing daughter of a hot shot Hollywood producer. She had disappeared New Year's eve, and a body matching her description had washed up on Venice beach. The team rolled out, leaving Sharon behind as had become the habit. It was part of the delicate balance she had laid out to find even ground with Lieutenant Provenza. She allowed him to act as incident commander at the crime scenes, except when her presence was particularly necessary. That was occurring less often since the letters had started coming addressed to her. Lately she was rarely on scene at all, unless they were closed scenes. She could sympathize with Rusty's plight, as it had - to a much lesser degree - become hers as well of late.

As it so happened the body turned out to be the missing producer's daughter, and while the team worked that case, the letter took a back burner. There was very little to go on as it was, and their review of the SIS investigation found no gaps or dropped balls. It was simply a matter of having the same lack of evidence they'd had all along. Buzz was still looking through the traffic camera footage and cross referencing it when time allowed with their current cases, but SIS was doing the same and had not turned up anything yet. Sharon, as well as the rest of her squad, had far more confidence in Buzz's abilities, but very little hope of their finding anything soon.

The continued extra rotation of security continued, with Assistant Chief Taylor's consent. The threats were escalating. DDA Rios was more vocal than ever about removing Rusty from Sharon's care, but, for the moment, no one was agreeing. Sharon had Gavin start the adoption proceedings, and although Rusty would turn eighteen in just a few months time, filing the preliminary paperwork would help to keep him where he was. Her divorce wasn't final yet, but they could not risk waiting.

That was another matter which had caused no small amount of headache for the new year. Jack had returned the papers, in person, beating on her door and arguing with the officers outside when his key had no longer worked. Sharon had changed the locks two weeks after his last visit, and had not bothered to tell him. His sudden reappearance might have been a mild annoyance but for the fact that he arrived in the middle of the night. While Andy was with her.

Getting members of her squad to babysit her teenage foster son so that she could carry on an illicit affair was not something that she was comfortable with, so the thought was not considered again. Date night was an elusive creature, and it was usually Provenza keeping Rusty occupied, or taking him out for burgers which allowed Flynn to take Sharon out. Otherwise, they were reduced to him sneaking into her Condo after the kid went to bed, and leaving at quarter to five, to get home in time to shower, change and be in the office on time.

That had lasted exactly a week, at which point Rusty had told them - quite emphatically - that he did not care. He didn't want to see it, but he did not care if Lieutenant Flynn was around. He appreciated that they were respecting his space, he really did, but he was good with the whole thing. Inwardly, he knew that Sharon was happier than he had seen her since coming to live with her, and he liked that. In spite of everything, the letters, the trial, and all of the other dozens of things that he knew were stressing her out these last several months, she was happy. As long as they maintained the no visual rule, he could deal with it. It was ridiculous that they were even trying to sneak around anyway, what were they, fifteen?

Sharon still wasn't comfortable with Rusty knowing that he was there, or why he was there. So he still came over late, but he didn't leave quite so early. He brought a change of clothes and left for the office from her Condo, on the nights that he stayed. And it wasn't every night, after all, they were far removed from that stage in their lives. It just so happened he was with her when Jack arrived.

The yelling and the banging had woken them, and Rusty, and they had both reached for their guns.

"Sharon?" Rusty was outside her bedroom door, but had stopped just short of entering. The no visual rule included putting himself in those predicaments.

"Go to your room and lock the door, Rusty." She was there a moment later, robe hastily tied with Flynn hot on her heels in a t-shirt and shorts. "Go." She pointed at his room, at the end of the hall and waited while he slowly backed toward it. "Lock. The. Door."

"But… what about you?" He sent a desperate look at Flynn over her shoulder.

"Don't worry kid." He edged around her and moved down the hall.

"Rusty," Sharon's tone had become more insistent.

"I'm going, I'm going… I'm locking the door." He stepped into his room and the door closed.

Sharon waited until she heard the click of the lock before she moved down the hall behind Flynn. In the living room they could hear the argument going on outside the door a little more clearly. They both relaxed, marginally. "Oh god." Sharon breathed. This was not the headache she needed.

Andy gave her a sympathetic look. He curled an arm around her shoulders and drew her to him. "Say the word and I can kick his ass and have him hauled out of here by your watchdogs."

"That is so tempting." She pressed her forehead against his chest. She heaved a heavy sigh and shook her head. Then she tipped it back and smiled sadly up at him. "This I have to do."

"Yeah." It didn't make it any easier, and he sure as hell didn't like it. He wanted to take her back to bed and hold her until she fell asleep again. She was exhausted. All this worry about Rusty, the upcoming SIS operation, and the letters… all of it was taking its toll on her. He knew that she already had Gavin start the adoption proceedings, but she worried she was too late. She worried she would lose him anyway, and then she wouldn't be able to protect him, and she worried that by hanging on, she was going to be the instrument of his demise. The last thing she needed right now was Jack Raydor beating down her door in a tantrum over losing his favorite plaything. "Just remember," Andy added. "If he gets out of hand, the offer stands."

"If he gets out of hand, I'll do it myself," she stated. "And let you help."

"Yeah." He had a small smile for that. "That's my girl."

Sharon gripped his chin and leaned up, kissing him quickly. "Can you…" She nodded toward the hall.

"No problem." It was a big damned problem, but he understood. It might go a little easier on her if Jack didn't see him. He could get out of the way, but only for that reason. "I'll get Rusty to show me what that First Person Shooter thing is that he and Sanchez are always going on about."

"Thank you." Warmth settled through her, despite the ache in her chest and the churning in her stomach, she did feel just a little better knowing that he was there. Right there to be with her if she needed him. Sharon watched him move back down the hall, and when she heard his voice and then Rusty's door, she drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. She flipped the lock and slid the chain on her door and pulled it open, the gun, still in her hand, was pressed against her thigh. "Jackson, do you realize what time it is?" Sharon's gaze swept the officers, who looked prepared to remove him, and seemed a second away from taking him down. "Gentlemen, I do apologize. My ex-husband has an unfortunate sense of bad timing."

"Husband," Jack stressed, holding up the papers. They had not been finalized yet. He was going to hold on to that little technicality for as long as he could. "When the hell did you change the lock, Sharon. My key didn't work."

"That was exactly the reason I changed it," she told him. Sighing, she pushed the door open and stepped back against it. "At least get inside before you wake the entire building." She gestured into her apartment with her gun hand, and he had the good sense to keep his mouth closed and look just a little nervous when he walked past her.

"Thank you, both," she told the officers again. "I'll handle it from here."

"Ma'am." They looked uncertain, but they drew back.

Sharon closed the door behind her, a little more loudly than was absolutely necessary she was sure. "What are you doing here?" She walked over and placed the gun on the breakfast bar before turning to glare at her husband.

"Hoping I could talk some sense into you," he waved the envelope with the divorce papers at her. "Sharon, is this really necessary? Come on. What we've got has worked well for us this long. Why are you doing this now?"

"For you," she said, holding up a hand when he moved closer to her than she would have liked. Sharon took a step back. "What we have has worked well for you. I'm done, Jack. It's over, and it has been over. This has been a long time coming, and we both knew it. I'm not discussing it anymore." She folded her arms over her chest and stared at him, with the same unwavering indifference she had been practicing for just this moment.

"You're not discussing it?" Jack's eyes narrowed. "You're done?" He pointed the envelope at her. "That's what this is about. That's what it has always been about. You decide when it's done, when it's going to be discussed, and you expect the rest of us to fall in line with you. Your rules, Sharon, it's always been about living by your rules."

"That isn't a place you want to go," she said quietly, voice dipping an octave. "Think carefully, Jack, because once you go down this road there isn't any going back." Dread was fisting itself around her chest, squeezing tightly. If she had hoped to avoid an ugly confrontation, he wasn't going to accommodate her.

"Always so cold, Sharon," he glared at her. "Always so controlled." He shifted his stance, shook his head at her. "Never willing to even give an inch."

Her warning had gone unheeded. Pain sliced through her. Her jaw clenched. "You left." It was an argument that was probably a long time in coming, twenty years, to be exact. "You left me, Jack. Not the other way around. I asked you to quit drinking. I asked you to quit gambling. I asked you to be a father and a husband and you left. You walked out. You gave up the booze, but you wouldn't give up the cards, you walked out the door instead." She pointed a finger at him. "But not before you cleaned out our savings, you cleaned out the checking, and you took a second mortgage on the house without telling me. You left me to go chasing poker tournaments with two small kids, that I couldn't even afford to feed after you cleaned me out, and a house that I almost lost. You broke this. If I'm cold, it's because you made me this way. If I'm hard, it's because I had to be. Someone had to take care of us, Jack, because you wouldn't. You weren't there."

"Sharon, baby," he reached for her, but she dodged him. She was ramrod straight, arms wrapped tightly around herself. "Let me fix it, let me make it better." He reached for her again, but she was hard, like a statue when his arms closed around her.

"It's too late." Sharon stared straight ahead. He felt foreign against her now, and how long had it been since the last time she let him touch her. It was gone, whatever ability he used to have to get past her resolve was long gone, and his touch did nothing but make her wish he would leave. That in itself was pain. Hot and steady, and slicing her open. Proof, more than anything that her marriage was long over. He was right, though, when he had told Rusty that she still loved him. There was a part of her that did, and probably always would. It was that part of her that remembered being twenty and believing in forever. That was before he left her cold and lonely, and aching. "It's twenty years too late for you to fix this, Jack." Her jaw ached from how tightly she was holding it together. A headache was stirring behind her eyes from the force of holding back the moisture threatening to blur her vision. "I want a divorce. Let me go…" The last was whispered, she could hardly breathe past the aching knot in her throat, much less speak.

"You've moved on." He saw the jacket before she spoke. A leather jacket much too large to belong to her or to Rusty. It was draped over the back of a chair. Now that he had her near enough, it wasn't just Sharon's Dior that he smelled, mingled in her hair. His hands fell away, he stepped back. Jack stared at her, not quite what he expected to see. "You're with someone else?"

He sounded incredulous enough that her back straightened again. "Don't. Just… don't."

There was enough threat in her tone that he wisely snapped his jaw shut again. Jack had more than one affair in the twenty years they were separated. Affairs he blamed on her. He blamed a lot of things on her. That was that. In twenty years of separation she never moved on before. He moved in and out of her life, or her bed when she was willing, never staying long but always coming back. It was only the last few visits that she refused him. She let him stay in the spare room, but she was off limits. He stayed longer this last time, tried more than once, but she hadn't given even an inch. Now he was beginning to understand why. As mad as he was, Jack wisely knew to keep the baser insults that occurred silent.

"Well then." Jack dropped the divorce papers onto the table beside him with some amount of defeat. "I guess that's it. It really is over." As long as she was still waiting for him to straighten up, there had been a chance of talking her out of it. She wasn't waiting anymore. "Is he… do you…" He couldn't even get the words out, because in what universe had he ever expected that she would actually not love him anymore.

The pain in his eyes should not have cut her so deeply, she should have been beyond that, but she wasn't. Sharon inhaled sharply. "Yes." She said it softly, not to hurt him further, but so that he would understand just how over their marriage really was.

Jack let go of the breath he was holding. His knuckles knocked against the table he was staring at. He wouldn't look at her now, that hurt too much. "Why?" If he was searching for more pain, for more reason to hurt, that question would do it. He needed to hear it, he needed her to say it.

Her arms closed more tightly around herself. The pressure building inside her was almost too much. Her teeth dug painfully across her bottom lip. Sharon reached up and tugged a lock of hair behind her ear. She didn't want to answer him. True though the answer was, it was another deep slice of agonizing pain. Hadn't there been enough? But then Jack was looking at her again, and she forced air into her lungs once more. "He's everything I wanted you to be," She said quietly. There was so much more to it than that, but he was everything that Jack was not, and she needed that strength in her life.

"Right." It was what he expected, she delivered the blow and it sliced deep. "Okay." He tapped the envelope holding the end of their union. "Signed. I won't…" His jaw clenched. He shook his head. "Gavin's work, yeah?" At her nod, he sighed. "I'm not going to fight you. It's all yours. I guess it always was. I wouldn't win a court battle against Gavin if I tried." He nodded once and he turned. He was almost to the door when he stopped. "The cops, outside. What is that about?"

"Rusty," she explained in a thick voice. "There were more letters. It's a precaution, until the trial."

Jack frowned. "Why not put the kid in witness protection?"

"He doesn't want to go," she said. Sharon sighed. "My son stays with me."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." He new she was getting attached. When he was there last time, he saw it. "I'm going," he put his hand on the door and tilted his head. "Sharon…"

"Goodbye Jack." Whatever parting entreaty he wanted to make, she didn't want to hear it. They had said enough, more than enough.

He looked back. He always left when she was not around. He slipped out. He never had to face her, never had to let her see him leave. Maybe because he had known that if he actually had to say it… it would really be over. "Good bye, Sharon."

The click of the door closing jolted her. Air rushed out of her lungs and she bent, a hand braced against the bar while she struggled to breathe past the sharp ache knotted at her center. She turned, and found the granite surface of the bar cool against her forehead. Sharon rested there, needing that anchor.

Long minutes passed until the feeling receded enough that she could straighten. She pushed her hair back from her face and walked to the door. Each lock was moved back into place. Only then did she retrieve her gun, shut out the light, and make the walk down the hall. She knocked on Rusty's door before opening it, and the smile she gave him felt as though her face would crack with it. "Fun's over boys. Time for bed."

They had turned the volume up when they had heard the voices raise just slightly, as much out of respect as it was to keep them both in the room. Hearing her pain would have sent them to her rescue, and seeing her now, they both regretted staying put.

"Aw, but Sharon…" They both intoned, with more cheer than any of the three of them felt.

"Bed," she insisted. "It's late." That they tried helped. That she had them both there helped even more.

"You're kicking my butt anyway, kid." Andy put the controller down. Damn thing was lost on him. He stood up and walked to the door. He slipped past her, and noted she was rigid. Andy wisely kept his hands to himself and moved into the hall.

"Good night, Rusty." She waited until he had shut off the game and moved back to his bed.

"Night, Sharon." He wanted to ask her if she was okay, and if she wanted to talk about it, because wasn't that something that he should do? Isn't that the point that Buzz kept trying to make to him? That none of this was all about him. Except this, this had nothing to do with him, and still he wanted to know that she was okay. She didn't look okay, but there was some part of him that held back. He worried that he would hurt her more by asking. Rusty watched his door close and lay back on his bed.

He reflected, and definitely not for the first time, just how different Sharon was from his mother. She would have raged, screamed, and broken things. She would have sobbed uncontrollably, clung to him, and made him promise that no matter what, he would always still love her. That he would never leave her, even if her love of the moment had gone. She would not have sent him to his room - even if he had a room to be sent to, and separated him from the scene. She would not pretend that everything was okay, even when it was obvious that it wasn't. She wouldn't fake a smile and tell him to go to bed.

She wouldn't do any of that. Mainly because she wasn't there, but she wouldn't have done any of that because she wouldn't be thinking of him through any of it. Rusty stared at his ceiling. He was hurting right now and it had nothing to do with Sharon Beck, and everything to do with the Sharon that was actually in his life. He hurt because she hurt, and that was an odd feeling, but not necessarily bad. He thought about his words to Doctor Joe, not too long ago, when he said that Sharon was not his mother. No, she really wasn't. She really wasn't because while she was breaking, she looked right at him, smiled, and told him to go to bed. His mother would never do that.

Rusty rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. He didn't think he could sleep, but he would try. Sharon told him to go to bed, so he was going to try. But tomorrow he was going to call Doctor Joe and answer his question. In a way, he already answered it, for himself and for Sharon, when he said she could adopt him. But now he wanted to say it out loud. He wanted to say it to someone else. He wanted to say that if his mother ever came back that he would stay. He would stay because he wanted to, because he needed to, and because Sharon needed him to.

Down the hall, there was not a word spoken. Andy watched while Sharon placed her gun back in its holster in the drawer beside her bed. Then she stood there, not moving, arms hanging at her sides. He reached for her carefully, pulled her slowly to him. She was stiff, but she was trembling. He folded his arms around her and she didn't protest. Hers lifted, and rather than push him away, her hands fisted in his t-shirt.

She held on, she held on for dear life when the first tremor worked its way through her. She pressed her face against his chest and when her knees buckled, he held her up. If she thought she wouldn't cry over the end of her marriage, that she had shed her last tears over Jackson Raydor long ago, she was wrong.

Andy lifted her and moved them both to the bed. There, he wrapped himself around her while she shuddered against him with silent tears. It was not the grief he expected, and he wondered for how long she had kept her pain silent. With his lips in her hair, his hands moved up and down her back, stroking gently. Except for the occasional sniffle, or hitch in her breathing, she never made a sound. He grieved with her, he had loved ex-wife. He knew this feeling. And he ached for Sharon, because he wondered how often she had cried herself to sleep over Jack, her kids, Rusty… without anyone ever being the wiser. He slipped a hand into her hair, fingers gently massaging her scalp. He kept just as silent. There were no words that would make this better. It had to be felt.

It was a long time before it ran its course. In the end, Sharon was still laying against Andy's chest, his hands were still gentle against her back and hair. "It's late," she whispered.

"Or early," his tone was soft, quiet. His fingers were drawing abstract patters against her back.

"Hmm." His shirt was damp with her tears. They were tears that she had cried over another man, and still he held her. Sharon drew a slow, shuddering breath. "I'm sorry."

"No," he said firmly. Andy tipped her face up and gazed into the eyes that held so much emotion he couldn't believe anyone would ever think her cold. "You've nothing to be sorry for. He hurt you."

"I hurt him," she said. "But that isn't why I'm sorry. That was par for the course of my marriage. I held onto it longer than I should have, but it's over now, and it has been. No, I'm sorry that Jack heard it first."

Something inside of him shifted. The way that she was looking at him, the emotion that made her eyes a darker shade of green. He swept her hair back from her face, behind her ear and cupped her cheek. His voice was thick, chest tight. "Heard what?"

"That I love you," she murmur softly.

He drew a sharp breath. He pulled her up, hands in her hair as his mouth found her lips. He rolled her beneath him. The words were between them now, real and tangible. Andy knew that she had heard a lot of things tonight. Words hurled at her with the intention of hurting, pleading. Rather than speak, he smoothed away her tears. He used gentle caresses and delighted in her soft sighs. His hands and mouth became the instruments of melting her pain and chasing it away.

When she started to unravel beneath him, he swept away the last keening ache of regret by pressing his mouth against her ear. "Me too."