AN: Oh man. There is so much I could say about this chapter. The bitter with the sweet is how I will preface it. As most things go with life, you have to take the good with the bad. Journeys are never a straight line. I've talked in previous stories about how I have chapters that I truly have trouble with. This isn't it, but it did help me with the one that is my problem child. Or the one that I just don't know about. By posting this chapter, I've basically committed myself to posting the problem child. We will see how you all react to that one when I am done editing it. As always, I thank each and everyone of you that have taken the time to review this story. I know it takes time and effort to do so. Just know that it means the world to each and every writer on these sites. It makes all the time and effort that is put into writing well worth all the second guessing and doubt. Happy Reading Everyone!

I'm not America's sweetheart
Well, they say I'm too loud
For this town
So I lit a match
And burned it down
What do you want from me
I'm not America's sweetheart
But you love me anyway

"America's Sweetheart" – Elle King

The Past

Relationships take work. And I'm not just talking the showing up everyday type of work. I'm talking the dealing with your shit and owning it type of work. Not having the pressure to think that Rachel would want to get married at some point helped for me to avoid some of my issues, but that didn't mean I was off the hook completely. Commitments come in many different forms. This just blindsided me, even if I should have seen it coming. Eight months was when she decided to see how far I wanted to be pushed. We were cleaning up from dinner at her place and I had made some comment about having to pick up some clean clothes from my place in the morning.

"You know you wouldn't have to do that if you just moved in."

I froze. Were we going in that direction? She looked up at me and I knew my reaction was plain as day. I quickly tried to hide behind a laugh, but it was too late.

"True, but it is what it is."

"What is that supposed to mean, Adam? It was simply a suggestion to fix something you have been commenting about a lot lately. Which to me means one of two things. Either you want to take the next step and actually move in together or you are thinking of ending things. I'm just trying to figure out which it is. I'm not going to just sit back and wait to see what happens."

"Rachel, I'm actually happy with the way things are. I really didn't mean anything by all the comments. They were more just a statement to remind myself so I wouldn't forget and hit the snooze button in the morning."

"Ok. How about this? Why don't you sleep at your place then? Then you won't have to worry about it."

"I don't want that."

"Well, I do. For tonight. Maybe even tomorrow. I just need some time to take a step back then. I'm getting use to you being here Adam and if you aren't ready to take that step then we need to take a breather. I'm not ending things. I just need some time. Can you understand that?"

I was floored. Weren't we just having dinner and having an amazing time. What the hell?

"Sure. I guess."

I grabbed my jacket and left. I was angry as I drove home. I got into my apartment and it was so quiet that it almost drove me crazy. I went to the fridge and felt a sense of relief that there was still beer in it. I headed to the couch and turned the hockey game on. I wasn't watching it. I just needed the noise. How did this happen? I was being pushed away again. I finished the six pack of beer in there and then went to bed. It took me about two days to figure out what Rachel was doing. She was making me live with my decision. Live with my fear. She still called and talked to me. We still texted, but not having her with me at night made me miss her. It was relearning the same mistake all over again, but this time I was with someone that was strong enough to see if I regretted my mistake. I knocked on Rachel's door that third night and she stood in the doorway and waited to see what I had to say.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't ready. I guess I'm always a couple steps behind you. I don't want to lose you."

Rachel opened the door the rest of the way and let me in. I could hear her foot steps behind me and I turned around when I heard them stop.

"Adam, I want you to move in so we can spend more time together and not be worrying about when we can meet up because of our jobs. I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm not asking for you to promise that you will always be here. I just want the promise for the next month or so. I would never try and hold you here if you didn't want to be."

"I want to be. The step back. I guess I needed that as much as you did. To know how I would feel to go back… I hated it."

The smile on her face was what I needed to see.

"Good."

"You're happy that I was miserable?"

"Yes."

"You're a cruel woman."

"But you still love me."

"Yeah. I guess I do if I'm giving up my place."

And there it was. The full smile of someone that was getting what they wanted and was truly happy about it. She flew into my arms and I can honestly say that I was just as happy as she was.

The Present

Nine months. Isabelle is nine months today. I'm not sure how that is possible. I'm back at the window in our apartment and I'm sipping a beer as I watch the traffic down below. Has it really been nine months? Maybe I shouldn't be thinking about that. Maybe I shouldn't be drinking either. I know how bad those two combinations can be. I take my beer over to the sink and I pour it out. I guess I have reasons to be thinking about it today. Mouse sure as hell didn't help. I would think he would know that asking me if I was interested in being set up with some girl was wildly inappropriate. I told him that too and then he leveled me with the time that had gone by. He acted like nine months was such a long period of time. What the hell?! Part of me can't ever see being with someone else, but I know that is me lying to myself. Or at least I think I am. I know what Rachel's thought would be on the matter. She'd be telling me that I had a year.

"Deal with your shit and move on. I kept telling my Dad that. He never got over my Mom dying and it just upset me so much because I knew that she would want him to be happy."

She'd even gone as far as to give me permission to move on if something happened. "I'm just saying. If we are old and gray and I shuffle off before you, I want you to have fun in the nursing home. Have five girlfriends or one if you want to. I want you to have fun. Find love."

For some reason, that memory just pissed me off. I could feel my blood want to boil. She was gone. She had left me. Stupid. Such a stupid thought, but it was how I felt. Abandoned. Left to raise our girl and to face a life all alone. I could feel myself gripping the edge of my kitchen counter to the point that my knuckles began to hurt. I made myself let go and I began to pace the kitchen. I needed to get out of there. Go for a run. Go to the gym and punch something. Anything to get this feeling out of me. But I couldn't. Isabelle was down for her nap and I had to be there. I looked at my phone and knew that if I called Atwater he would understand. I picked up the phone and made the call. I would be no good to Isabelle if I was an angry wreck. He picked up almost immediately and I'm not sure if it was the sound of my voice, but the second I asked if he could stop by and sit with Isabelle he said he was already on the way. I continued to pace the kitchen and avoided the hallway to Isabelle's nursery. I was hoping she would stay asleep till Atwater got there. Of course, that didn't happen. Her cries meant I had to go get her. I just couldn't let her sit in there all alone and cry. I picked her up and as babies do, she could sense my unease. Which meant that the crying created tears. I was rocking her when I heard the doorbell. I've never made it to that door so fast while carrying her.

There stood Atwater with Kim right behind him.

"Sorry, Dawg. We were at that market up the street. Got here as soon as we could. What's up?"

I handed over Isabelle and just walked back to the bedroom. I had it in my mind to change into workout clothes and just leave, but it had been too much. I made the mistake of looking into the mirror and seeing what I looked like. Crazed. At my wits end. I knew Rachel would be disappointed in me, so I punched the mirror. Problem solved. Till I looked down at my hand. Yeah. So not going to the gym now.

I backed up to the wall and just slid down it. I kept my hand close to my chest since I was pretty sure that the blood from the cuts would not come out of carpet easily and I could always buy a new shirt. I heard the soft knock on the door and then saw Kim slowly peak her head in.

"You're not going to throw something at me, are you?"

"No."

"Ok. What the hell happened?"

"I punched the mirror."

"I heard. Why?"

I just looked away. No good answer to that question. I could tell that Kim had made her way into the room and she was now sitting on the floor near me, but not close enough to touch me. I guess she didn't want to spook me. Great. I'm now being treated like a crazy person.

"I'm not handling you if that is what you are thinking."

I knew my eyes told Kim that I wasn't believing a word of that.

"Well, don't punch mirrors for no reason if you don't want to be handled. Can I look at your hand? You're bleeding pretty bad."

I held out my hand and Kim inched forward to look at it.

"Where's your first aid kit?"

I began to speak and then felt the lump in my throat.

"Rachel kept her kit in the spare room closet."

I could see the sadness creep across Kim's eyes. She got up and headed out of the room. God, I was such an idiot. Letting Mouse mess with me like this. It wasn't even him. It was me letting myself go down the rabbit hole. Kim came back into the room with the bag and began pulling out the supplies she would need. She cleaned my hand and bandaged it without saying a word. I appreciated it. Was easier that way. She finished up and then she sat back against the wall next to me.

"I get it."

"What?"

"Why you punched the mirror."

"Really?"

"You saw me at my lowest. You think, I don't understand?"

Crap. I had. Rachel and I had definitely seen Kim at her lowest.

"I never thanked you for that."

"Yes, you did."

"No, not properly. You both did not have to do that and I will never forget how gentle she was with me. She was…unreal."

I just stared at Kim. I don't know. I guess I just never expected to hear this from her.

"I wanted to hate her. I really did. But I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"She made you happy. Which made hating her possible and impossible all at the same time."

"Kim, I…"

"You know she pretended to be my lesbian lover at Molly's once, right?"

Ok, what?! I quickly swallowed the shocked exclamation down.

"Excuse me?"

"Yep. You were on a stake out and Atwater was hanging out with Mouse and this guy would just not leave me alone."

"And she rescued you."

"It worked to. He basically stayed at the other end of the bar the whole rest of the night. Till you showed up and then he started to inch his way back. Didn't you wonder why Rachel kept putting her arm around me that night?"

"I did, but I figured it was none of my business. Or it was my lucky day and worst nightmare since the two of you were getting along so well."

Kim started laughing which naturally caused a smile to come to my face.

"You would think that. Can't handle your ex and your girlfriend being friends?"

"Actually, it wasn't as weird as I thought it would be."

"No, it wasn't. How are you doing now? Better?"

I was better.

"Yeah. Thanks. For this." I held up my hand to emphasize my prior stupidity. "and for the story. I guess I needed that."

"No problem."

"Were you really out with Kev at the market?"

"Yep. Momma sent us out for produce for dinner. I was over helping his sister with her English homework. Kevin hates that stuff."

Kim was now standing up and she held her hand out to me. I took it and she helped pull me to standing.

"Ready to face the world again?"

"Lead the way."

Post note: If you are wondering if you are going to find out about Kim's low point...stay tuned.