She shakes her head. Her hazel eyes fixate on his face. She stares into his deep blue eyes. Her hearts skips a beat. She wants so badly to believe him. The voice inside her head reminds him he is a best selling author. He is a best selling author that she was engaged to. There is no doubt in her mind that he loved her at one point, and that he just wants her to be happy. Grief causes people to take drastic measures. Maybe what he is trying to tell her is all just a ploy. A way to make it all okay. He, no doubt, always wanted to fix things. She exhales.

"I don't believe you."

"I knew that you wouldn't," he points to the manila folder, "So finish going through that file."

She looks down at the manila folder lying in front of her, on her counter. She removes the first sheet of paper. She stares blankly at a consult report. She keeps flipping until she finds a death certificate. She stares at the name, and the dates. She flips to the final page. She is faced with a picture of a headstone. She closes the file, and looks up at him.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I already told you."

"Castle how am I supposed to believe any of this? This is a tall tale. This girl was only twenty eight years old. How do I know that you didn't just go through death certificates until you found someone who would complete your story?"

"If you don't believe me then you should have another MRI."

"To what end? I don't want some doctor to tell me that I only have a few months, or even less. I don't want to hear that."

"What if I am right? Would that be the end of the world?"

"Yes," she nods.

"Yes? Why?"

"I have done irreparable damage to our relationship. I doubt that Lanie will ever speak to me again. And Espo is caught up somewhere in the middle. He was an innocent bystander, and I used him."

"And you may be pregnant with his child, right?"

"Yes," she grits her teeth.

"Having a brain tumor would give you an excuse to act carelessly, right? If you don't have one what was your excuse? What happened to your impulse control?"

"Castle there is no worthy excuse for what I did."

"You could blame it on the alcohol, but I have seen you drink. I have never seen you come even close to losing control."

She swallows hard, "Rick," she makes eye contact. Her facial expression is solemn as she attempts to explain, "I was scared."

"Of what? You were afraid you were making a mistake with me, so you consciously decided to sabotage our relationship?"

"No. It wasn't a conscious decision. It wasn't even a decision that I remember making."

"Then what were you afraid of? Were you afraid that I was going to leave you; because I wasn't."

"I was afraid that everything would go the way that you planned."

"Why would you be afraid of that?"

"Because it wouldn't be fair. You fought so hard for this relationship. You waited for so long, and we both know that patience is not one of your virtues. It wouldn't be fair to you to have me, just to lose me. We were engaged. We would have ended up married. I would have moved to the suburbs with you. You would still be holding onto that dream, and then maybe after a few months, or a few years the tumor would grow so large that I would be incapacitated. You would have to take care of me. Maybe, I would die in my sleep, or maybe I would go into convulsions, and die a horrible death. None of that seems fair. You deserve happily ever after," the tears well up in her eyes, "You are a good man, and you deserve that. You deserve so much more than me. I am an incredibly flawed, selfish individual."

"You deserve more."

"No I don't," she argues, her face turning red.

"You really think that you don't deserve it?"

A single tear falls from her eye, and begins to roll down her cheek, "I slept with Javi. He is a friend, and a colleague. He is like a brother to me. Just the thought of what happened that night makes me feel sick. What I did is a complete betrayal to you. I ruined relationships, and lives, all in one night. I don't deserve to be happy. I am broken, and I'm flawed. I am thoughtless. I don't deserve you. I don't deserve anyone."

"You know what bothers me about the whole thing?"

She shrugs, "What?"

"Have you ever in your entire life been so drunk that you don't remember what happened?"

"What are you getting at?"

"How do we know that Espo was telling the truth?"

She cocks an eyebrow, and shoots him an, are you serious, look. "What motive would he have to lie? Why would he lie about that? What he said happened ended his relationship with Lanie. What happened ended our relationship, too. Castle this isn't another one of your stories where you can just explain away human behavior with some half-assed theory."

"But something isn't right."

"You being here, that isn't right. Castle you shouldn't be here. This whole situation is unfair to you. You deserve more. You need to move on."

"I know Javier. I have known him as long as I have known you. If you thought that you had a brain tumor, and somehow you were trying to sever ties I might consider that you would do something so stupid, and reckless. He wouldn't. He is loyal to a fault. He wouldn't violate bro-code, and he certainly wouldn't violate you."

"Why are you are making excuse for why this happened? There is no excuse. Two grown adults chose to drink too much. We made bad decisions. There are not enough excuses in the world to make what we did okay."

"Okay so for a second let's say that I buy Javier was bent to your will. Let's just pretend that you threw yourself at him, and he couldn't fight you off. Never in a million years would one of you not stop to consider using protection."

"Maybe we did, and it didn't work."

"Did you find any evidence to support that? I mean you did just move. I assume that you cleaned before you moved. I am willing to bet that you removed the couch cushions, and vacuumed."

"Yeah."

"And what did you find?"

"Some loose change, and some stale Certs."

"Who still uses Certs?"

"Why are you worried about the stale breath mints?"

"I'm not. I am worried about you."

"Don't be."

"How can I not be? Your entire world is upside down right now."

"I'll figure it out."

"Will you please go have another MRI?"

"I already scheduled one," she admits.

"You did?"

"I need to know how long I've got. I am going to have a baby. I have to have a plan of action."

"So when is the appointment?"

"About seven weeks from now."

"What? Why are you waiting so long? You are the most impatient person that I know."

"Because they don't like to perform them during the first trimester, despite the fact that there is no evidence of adverse effects. It is just so that they can cover their asses."