I hope y'all had a good holiday break. And to celebrate today being the 1st of December... Here's the next installment of this story.

I still own diddly squat.

Jay knocks on Annie's door once, twice, three times, but no one answers. He waits, the cold night breeze ruffling his hair and sending chills up and down his spine. He checks his watch, ten minutes after seven. Without moving, he scans the house, trying to spot any motion, any shadows crossing behind the closed curtains, but nothing. He waits another minute and knocks again. He is about to give up when then the door finally opens.

Annie is standing there looking as if she's been expecting him. She doesn't say anything, but motions for him to come in. Jay slowly steps inside, his breath hitching in his chest. He looks around, but doesn't see Erin.

"She's not here," Annie says, watching Jay survey her apartment. "She comes and goes. I can't tell you if she'll be back tonight."

An intense sadness settles over him, dulling any inkling of hope. "Is she okay?" He asks.

Annie shrugs. "As okay as one can be in her situation."

Jay nods sadly.

"Want some coffee?"

Jay ponders on his options – go home and see all the empty spaces Erin has left behind or stay a few moments longer, hoping that maybe she'll walk through the front door. Jay chooses the latter. "Sure," he says. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"No, no," Annie assures him. She walks up to Jay and runs a hand over the blanket covered bundle he's holding. "Do you want to put her down? The spare room is just up the stairs to your right."

"I'm better off having her nearby in case she wakes up."

"Okay." Annie slowly pulls the blanket that is covering Lucy off and lays it on the couch. "How about here then?"

Jay nods and slowly lowers Lucy to the couch. He grabs a few cushions and places in a way that if she rolls over she won't fall.

"I think she's grown a few inches since the last time I saw her."

Jay looks down at his little girl. "I'm sure she has."

"Before you know it she'll be getting her driving permit and officially declaring her independence from you."

"Travis's driving?" Jay asks.

"Yup," Annie says. "He only has his permit, but he thinks he's all grown now." Annie shakes her head and says, "C'mon, let me get you some coffee."

Jay and Annie sit around her kitchen table nursing their mugs. They share a quiet moment, not saying anything that isn't already known. Annie looks at Jay and he is lost in thought, occasionally looking to the living room –checking on Lucy, but mostly watching the front door.

Finally Annie breaks the silence. "When Erin first showed up here, I wanted to call you." She looks down at her coffee and says, "She's not well, but you know that."

Jay nods. "I hadn't realized how bad it was until Lucy got sick," Jay says, keeping his emotions and frustrations in check. "Did she tell you anything?"

"She told me she doesn't remember the last five years. She thinks she's dreaming or something."

"Did she tell you what her plan is? Is she thinking of leaving?"

Jay looks at Annie for answers, but she shrugs. "I don't really know. She doesn't say much."

Jay lowers his head and says, "I don't know what to do, Annie."

Annie smiles sympathetically.

"Maybe it's a good thing she's not here because I actually don't know what I would've done if I saw her."

"Erin is very confused. She hurting. I can tell. But she's bottling it all up like she used to do."

Jay's heart breaks. "I love her. I want to help her. I just don't know—"

Suddenly they hear the front door open and close. Jay is up in a matter of seconds and once he reaches the living room threshold he sees Erin standing there. God, he missed seeing her face. She looks like what he thinks he looks like right now – worn-out and miserable.

Erin sees Jay and a jolt of panic, as powerful as an electrical shock, rips through her. With a lowered head she goes for the door.

"Please don't," Jay says.

Holding the door knob, she turns back. To an outsider, Erin looks unfeeling. But he know all the subtle nuances of her face, he knows each and every twitch and flicker that ever rippled across it and he can clearly see all kinds of sad, and no doubt she can sees the same in his face.

A rustling coming from the couch catches her attention. To her surprise, Lucy groggily lifts her head up, rubbing her sleepy eyes. Erin looks desperately to Jay, but Lucy pans her head around and her eyes turn to Erin like sunflowers turning to the sun.

"Mama!" She cries and immediately topples over the couch cushions.

Jay swallows dry as he watches his little girl run to her mom, who is standing by the door motionless.

"Mama!" Lucy cries, reaching her little arms out to be picked up.

Erin can't move, can't speak, as pain crashes like a tidal wave through her. Her eyes begin to sting and she blinks a few times to shoo away the tears that are trying to escape. She tilts her head back to stare at the ceiling, pressing a hand to her lips to hold back a sob.

In the meantime, Lucy grabs full fists of Erin's sweater and pulls incessantly as her frustration rises.

"Mama!' She cries repeatedly. "Up, Mama!"

"Pick her up," Jay pleas, choking back a lump in his throat.

Erin closes her eyes and tears roll down her cheeks. This sort of pain is just short of excruciating. She's afraid if she moves she will collapse as anguish, guilt and regret choke her. Love for this little girl is what made her leave. Being so close to her again fills her heart with a painful happiness.

Jay slowly exhales, taking a few steps towards her. "Erin," he says as evenly as he can manage. He studies her pain-filled, tear-streaked face and his anger and frustration slowly fades. "She just wants her mom."

With trembling hands, Erin lifts Lucy up and draws her close. Lucy circles her little arms and legs tightly around Erin, burying her face in the crook of her neck. The sweet, familiar fragrance of Lucy's hair is her undoing. Erin breaks into gut-wrenching sobs.

Jay approaches her slowly. "I'm not here to confront you or to force you to come home," he says. "We just…We really missed you."

Erin exhales and her bloodshot eyes meet his.

"Tell me what you want me to do. If you want us to leave, we will. The last thing I want to do is upset you."

Erin wants to speak, but her lips don't move. She can feel them – and her tongue, lying on the floor of her mouth, stunned—but she can't move her lips. She shakes her head and manages to choke out. "I-I'm not uh-upset." Erin shuts her eyes and more tears spill down her face. "I j-just need t-time."

"Okay." Jay nods. "I can do that," he says taking a few more steps towards her. "But Lucy….." There's a beat of silence before he says, "She doesn't understand that."

Erin looks down at the little girl in her arms. For three days she's been trying to forget Lucy, forget Jay. Forget this life and try to understand what is happening to her. But she feels like a gerbil in a wheel—run, run, run, no traction, no ground, and all an illusion. She's no closer to figuring out what happened to her now than she was three days ago.

"She misses her mom," he adds.

"Jay, I'm not…" Erin lets the sentence go unfinished. But she knows Jay won't let her go until she declares the bitter truth. Weary beyond words, she says, "I'm not her mom, Jay."

Jay closes his eyes and his face screws tight with pain. "Don't say that."

"I'm no better than my own mother." She wants to make him understand, but she struggles to find the right words. "I hurt her, Jay."

"Erin, it was an accident. You didn't know. You didn't mean to."

"My mother never meant to hurt me, but she did. So many times! And I forgave her every time. I believed her each time she said she'd change – but she never did. Listening to her say sorry didn't erase any of the pain. Then one day I just ran out of forgiveness, and I started to hate her." She hugs Lucy a little tighter and says, "I don't want that for Lucy."

With her heart in broken pieces, she looks away. "I can't take care of her any more than my mom could take care of me. Maybe the reasons are different, but that doesn't matter. I thought I could do this. I wanted to believe that I deserved this. But in the E.R, when I heard myself stammering the same excuses – I'm sorry – I didn't mean it – I realized I was just like Bunny." Erin releases a shaky breath and says, "She'll be safe with you."

Jay knows that as a child Erin had suffered what no child ever should. Now she is willing to suffer even more to spare Lucy of what she thinks will be the same fate. Jay doesn't think he can love Erin more than he does now.

"Erin, you are not your mother," he says gently. "Listen, when I told you what happened the day Lucy was born, I left out a very important part."

Erin face turns in confusion. "What?"

"You actually developed preeclampsia and the doctors wanted to deliver Lucy early, but you wanted to wait until she was full term. The doctors said with your blood pressure sky-rocketing you wouldn't make it that long, but you didn't care." Jay looks at her and adds, "Despite knowing that you could die, and you almost did, you still wanted to protect her. You put her life before yours. That's the kind of mom you are, Erin."

Tears freely roll down Erin's eyes.

"Erin, I know everything is overwhelming and a little confusing right now, but you're not Bunny. You will never be like Bunny. I trust you completely." Jay places a hand on his daughter's back and looks at Erin. "Do you want to keep her tonight?"

"What?"

Jay sees a slight inkling of hope ripple across her face. He thinks he found a way in.

"Her things are in the car. She already had dinner. She just needs a quick bath. Or if you want I can drop her off tomorrow in the morning or afternoon…"

Jay rattles on, but Erin shakes her head. "Jay, what if some–"

"No what ifs. You're going to be fine. And by the looks of it, I won't be able to pry her off of you anyways."

Erin ponders, but an immense fear clouds her thoughts. It's inexplicable how much she loves this little girl. It's a different kind of love – so genuine and so deep. Letting go of them feels as if she is trying to go on with half of her heart beating outside her body.

"No strings attached?" She asks.

"Of course not," Jay says. "Erin, you call the shots. Tell me what you want to do and we'll do it."

Erin nods. "Okay, I, um, I think I can keep her tonight."

Jay has a difficult time hiding his smile. He watches her take slow steps inside the apartment, while gently bouncing Lucy in her arms.

Jay smiles. "Let me go get her things."

Jay steps outside and lets the cool air help restore his composure. He grabs Lucy's bag and jogs back to the house. For the next twenty minutes he just stands back and watches Erin – the tender way she wakes Lucy up for her bath and her patience with the little cranky toddler makes Jay think that maybe things will be okay. He manages to keeps his trepidation at bay and cherish this little time he has with her.

Before long he realizes he needs to give Erin the space she needs. "I think I'm gonna go now." Jay utters soberly.

"Okay," Erin says.

Jay picks up a heavy-eyed Lucy and says, "Can daddy get a kiss." Lucy puckers her cherub lips and plants a kiss on Jay's lips. "You be good with mama, okay?"

Jay gives Lucy another kiss and a tight squeeze. He then turns to Erin and says, "If you need anything, call."

"Okay."

"Let me know when you want me to pick her up tomorrow."

Erin nods.

Jay can't help it. He approaches Erin and plants a kiss on her forehead. He keeps his lips on her skin a little longer than usual. "See you tomorrow."

Jay leaves and Erin is shaken to her core. The place where his lips touched feels like it's burning. For a blissful moment, Erin forgets the all her sadness, all her pain.

Thanks for reading you wonderful, kind readers. Your input is always greatly appreciated.