"It's been a long day without you my friend, and I'll tell you all about it when I see you again. We've come a long way from where we began, oh I'll tell you all about it when I see you again."

Carla had sat thinking for the longest time as she waited for him to arrive, her mind in overdrive. She had been so desperate for him to come and hold her, to stroke her hair back from her face and love her like she craved and yet now all she could think about was the hurt he had caused her. The pain she felt that he had left her with. Suddenly, she was unsure how she would react when she saw him. Whether she'd fall into his arms desperately or slap him hard across his face, hitting over and over, kicking and screaming with all the energy she had left, just so he could feel the tiniest about of aching she did, relentlessly.

Peter stood outside the place of the address Carla had given him previously, his hair wet and messy in the rain and his hands in his pockets, just staring at the flats nervously. Eventually he buzzed to be let in and climbed the stairs to the flat, his mind filling with memories of all the times he had walked the flights of stairs to Carla's old flat, much happier times ahead than what he knew was to come.

He bit his lip, his heart beating ridiculously fast as he watched Carla open the door, moving aside silently to let him past. He watched her, taking her in apprehensively and his eyes hardly leaving her in the next few moments, never expecting to see her in this way again, so unlike the usual barriers she put up when in public.

Carla frowned softly as she felt his arm on hers, trying to support her as she stumbled whilst trying to get herself to the sofa. She kept quiet and let herself sit, her eyes following him as he sat down opposite her.

"What did you think this was, Peter? Did you think this was me calling ya for some sort of surprise reunion? Did you think the fact I nearly died would make me forget everything that's happened?" She shook her head as she noticed him trying to speak, stopping him before he got a chance.

"I hate you so much, Peter." She continued her voice low and quiet, almost emotionless.

"I think I hate you more than I've ever hated anyone and that's saying somethin', darlin'." She looked at him directly now, wanting him to feel just a little of what she felt, to understand her pain and grief.

"Tony… He took my Liam. He took the love of my life, me best mate, me world." She forced herself not to cry, thinking over everything she'd planned on saying, everything she needed him to know. "Frank, well Frank took the last bit of dignity I 'ad left didn't he." She almost glared now, her anger and pain so evident, although Peter was sure he could sense her desperation and need, however hidden it was.

"But you? You, Peter flammin' Barlow... You took so much more. You took you. You took our relationship, our love, our trust. You took that from the very first second you shagged your little bit on the side." She didn't say her name, it hurting too much despite the deep rooted hatred she would always feel for Tina.

"But you didn't stop there did ya? That wasn't enough for ya eh?" She spoke so bitterly but the tears were evident in her eyes now, looking across at Peter who just listened, just taking everything she had to throw at him but unable to stop his own tears.

"You took a part of me as well, Peter." She whispered, "I gave myself to you completely and I can never, ever get that back." Carla cried properly now, looking up and taking a deep breath before she looked back down at him, her eyes showing more than even her most honest words.

"And the worst thing is, you took my little girl." She ignored the almost sob Peter gave, "I didn't want to be a mum, I didn't want a kid, Peter. But boy did I love that baby. I loved her with every inch of me. My baby, my little girl."

She fiddled with her hands, not looking at him now, her mind obviously elsewhere, her heart not in arguing with him anymore but aching over her loss. "She would have wanted for nothing, y'know." She shook her head, "I'm not talking toys or clothes, I mean love. I mean real, deep, all-consuming, painful love. I would have loved her so much, every day. I would have told her how beautiful she was, how loved, how precious." Carla still cried, her mind just over taken with the things she had dreamt about every night since losing her daughter, "I would have been a good mum." She told herself more than Peter, "I would have.."

Eventually she carried on, having needed to catch her breath and think over what she had been saying, her mind so settled on their baby. "I would have called her Hayley." She nodded, her eyes still on her hands and not her ex-lover. "Hayley Michelle Connor. A little piece of everyone.. Hayles, Chelle, Liam and Paul." She nodded, speaking mostly for herself now, not even sure why she was telling him. "She would have fixed me.." her eyes met Peter's now, "She would have made me whole again."

Peter watched her, his heart aching as much as hers was for their daughter, the little girl that was a piece of both them. He had spent hours imagining them both, how different their life would be if she had survived. He looked at Carla intently, knowing he'd spent the last few weeks wondering if she would survive too, imagining her funeral, the days, weeks, months, years after, knowing he'd never have been the same.

He slowly knelt down in front of her, his breathing heavy and nervous as he silently cried in front of her. His words caught in his throat as he tried to speak and instead he simply placed his hand on Carla's cheek, cupping it softly, desperately.

And slowly, silently, simply, their lips met again.