He was completely and utterly exhausted. He'd barley slept at all since he'd arrived at the cabin with Daphne. Ironically, his one last good night's sleep had been in the same bed as Mel. He used to love sleeping with her; not making love, but really sleeping. But now the thought of sleeping with her or doing anything else with her repulsed him, making him feel physically ill.

He had not been truthful at all with Daphne when he'd told her that he needed to go to Seattle. He could have taken care of his patients in the privacy of his office. The task of calling Mrs. Woodson and having her rearrange things could have been just as easily done on the telephone.

But the confrontation with Mel-as much as he would have liked to have done it over the phone-needed to take place in person. There was no other way. He cringed thinking about that horrible moment yet again, but it still made him feel queasy. When his stomach churned, he scoured his desk drawer for his antacids, and then found it difficult to open the thin blue cap. Daphne was always so much better at things like that than he; opening jars, bottles, cans and the like. Mel would have chided him for his inability to do something that was thought to be so 'easy'. When he finally succeeded, he shook a handful of antacids in his hand and popped them into his mouth like candy.

The thought occurred to him yet again that if it weren't for Daphne he wouldn't be in this predicament. However, he couldn't bring himself to blame her. How could he possibly begin to blame the person he loved so much?

With an exasperated sigh, he opened his briefcase. He could not let Daphne continue to occupy his mind; he could not. He had work do to; patients to call, appointments to rearrange. He made a list, prioritizing the most important tasks, and then he got to work. He had to do something; anything to make his mind off of Daphne.

He worked diligently, occasionally reminding himself to breathe. He began with Monday and then moved on to Tuesday and then Wednesday, Thurs….

He woke with a start, even more disoriented than before. Where was he? After a few moments, it all came back to him. When his eyes focused, he saw that it was nearly two AM. He was still in his chair, indicating that he must have fallen asleep after making the necessary calls. A piece of paper fell from his cheek and fluttered softly to the carpeted floor. He gave a small groan as he attempted to bend over to retrieve it. How long had he been sitting in his chair, working on whatever it was he had been working on? He honestly couldn't remember.

He glanced at the papers on his desk, pleased to find that somehow he'd managed to finish everything that he'd intended to complete. Although he wasn't entirely refreshed, the nap had succeeded in giving him stretch to stand and go upstairs to his room to get ready for bed. With any luck he'd be able to get a decent night's sleep. However given what he'd learned at Frasier's just hours before, he seriously doubt it. Once again, Daphne weighed heavily on his mind.

The moment he opened the door that led to the hallway, he froze. His heart began to pound and he found that the coast wasn't at all clear.
They were once again face to face. However, she wasn't looking directly at him. Instead her gaze was transfixed on the cherry wood sideboard that filled the wall space just outside his office door.

"I thought you might fancy a sandwich." She said quietly. Normally he would be touched beyond measure at this small gesture. But he knew exactly what it was; it was a peace offering, made hastily.

He wasn't at all hungry, nor was he in the mood to think about eating. All he wanted to do was to go straight upstairs to his room and (God willing) go to sleep. But he'd never turned down a gift from Daphne before; even if was just a sandwich. He was still furious with Mel and he knew that he would be angry for quite some time. But even though he was also angry at Daphne, his father, his brother and basically the world, he could not bring himself to outright refuse the sandwich. He could not risk hurting Daphne's feelings, no matter what kind of emotions were swirling inside of him.

Cautiously he moved toward her and took the plate, mumbling a 'thank you' that he knew all too well was less than sincere. When he glanced at her once again, he saw that her expression was almost exactly the same expression that she wore when he'd run into her at Frasier's; the one that she'd worn just before she'd burst into tears.

"You're angry." She said, her voice echoing in the hallway.

His eyes moved to his feet. "I don't know what I am."

"You're angry." She repeated. "I was afraid that you might be. How did your brother know? Because I never-."

"Frasier said that Donny stopped by to pick up his cell phone. Apparently he'd left it there when… His voice trailed away before he spoke again. "Well, anyway, he told Frasier and Dad."

He saw her shiver and then rub her arms with her hands. "Are they angry as well?"

His resolve slowly began to crumble. "They're worried sick about you, Daphne!" He hadn't meant to raise his voice but he felt like a father scolding his child.

"What did you tell them?"

His mind replayed the moment that he'd told Frasier and his dad that Daphne was with him at the cabin, and their reaction to the news. He hadn't been thinking clearly and he realized that he revealed content that he should have kept to himself unless he had talked to Daphne about it first. Telling them without her knowing wasn't right, and he felt an immense amount of remorse.

"I-I told them that I had spoken to you and hat you said that you needed some time alone." he lied. "I swear I had no idea that you and Donny-."

"Everything that you told them was true."

Her reaction surprised him. "Yeah, I suppose it was. But I couldn't say much more. I didn't want to risk-." He said nothing more, but when she nodded, he knew that he didn't have to say anything.

"Thank you, Dr. Crane. For bringing my bag."

He nodded. "Sure."

"Did you have any trouble finding it in me room?"

"Not at all. I just opened the door and it was exactly where you said it would be. But I couldn't help noticing-."

"Yes?"

"I-."

"What is it?"

Damn, another thing he shouldn't have brought up. But it was too late now. He owed her an explanation.

"On your dresser. I'm sorry, Daphne. I shouldn't have looked, but I saw the rings and I didn't make the connection until-."

"Donny had asked me to pick them up on Friday morning and-." She paused as her voice began to quiver. He noticed then that her left hand was bare. "Later that afternoon when Donny came over to get the rings… I'm not really sure what happened but it was over, just like that. I should have known that you'd be angry."

His eyebrows rose. "Why would you think that I'd be upset?"

"Because, Dr. Crane. You're not the kind of man who would leave one woman for another, even if in your heart you knew that the woman you had intended to marry was not the woman you truly loved."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. No, it wasn't possible. It couldn't be.

"Wait a minute, Daphne. What are you saying? Are you saying that Donny was the one who broke up with you?"

She looked momentarily confused and disoriented, and with good reason. Hearing someone else say the words must have come as quite a shock. But no one was more shocked than he.

"What? I-." She looked away and when their gazes met once more he felt the familiar anger within him begin to rise.

"Dr. Crane…"

"That is… Absolutely unforgivable!" he yelled. His outburst startled her and even he was surprised at the uncharacteristic anger he exuded. He ran his hand through his hair and began to pace the hallway.

Daphne, meanwhile, moved past him, giving him no choice but to follow her.

"Daphne, wait-."

But she didn't stop until she reached the living room and then sat down on the sofa.

He hurried after her and then stood beside her, tentatively reaching out to touch the arm of the sofa, as though he needed her permission to do so. He was afraid that if he touched her she might shatter into a million pieces. And so he stayed where he was.

"When Frasier and Dad told me, they made it sound-or I just assumed…. My God, Daphne. I'm so sorry."

She looked away and he sat down beside her on the sofa, so that he was looking into her eyes.

"Daphne you did not deserve him. If Donny was such a fool to think that he could possibly find someone better than you, than he deserves to be alone. And to do this to you, so close to your wedding day… he has absolutely no sense of decency!"

She looked shaken. "Dr. Crane, Donny's not-."

"Don't defend him, Daphne!" Niles yelled. "He is worthy of nothing but contempt! If he wasn't one hundred percent certain that he cold dedicate his life to being your husband, than he should have never- that son of a-that insensitive-."

"Dr. Crane, please!" she was sobbing now, and he knew that he should stop but he was so outraged that he could have gone on forever.

"Daphne, that man cannot-."

"Stop, please! I beg of you!" She cried, even harder than before.

He stared at her, unable to believe that it was he who had caused her to be so upset. And his remorse was deeper than Puget Sound. She continued to cry, deep shuddering sobs. Damn it he'd done it again. He was simply trying to help; to make her see that someone cared. Instead he'd made things worse. He wished that she realized how much it was killing him to see her in so much pain.

She had no idea.