Series: Snapshots of the Past

Story: Crossroads

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: The characters depicted in this story belong to NBC, WB, Aaron Sorkin, and John Wells. We're just borrowing them for some fun :)

Previously: Abbey was honored at a banquet for her dedication to medical education; Alex confronted Abbey about her accusations against him; Jed decked Alex, then expressed his doubts and suspicions to Abbey, looking for reassurance

Summary: Abbey tells Jed everything; Ellie asks her grandmother for advice

A thick fog settled on the harbor that night. The fog horns sounded every 10 seconds and Boston Light, the country's first lighthouse, shined its beam out to sea where Jed could hear the echo of the turbulent waves in the distance. After his argument with Abbey, he'd stormed out to find Alex. He checked the ballroom and the patio, but there was no sign of him anywhere. He even checked with the hotel concierge and was told there was no room reservation under Alex's name. He returned to the bar for a drink or two, but the noise and the worry that one of Abbey's colleagues would spot him and start asking questions lured him outside. So, here he stood, at the edge of the pier, looking out at the water and the reflection of the city lights, so vibrant earlier, now muted by the foggy haze that surrounded them.

His hand began to hurt and he looked down to see that Abbey was right, that he should have put some ice on it. He was too stubborn, too angry. He didn't care about the redness, he didn't feel the pain. But now, in the dark of night, he caught a glimpse of the evidence of his wrath and the realization that he struck a man tonight. Alex had deserved it. He baited him; he asked for the fight and had he not disappeared like a coward, Jed would have found him and continued the fight. He rebelled against the part of him that felt a morsel of regret for surrendering the high ground and giving Alex exactly what he wanted. He wasn't a violent man, but anyone who harmed his family would feel the brunt of his temper and he made no apologies for that.

He lit a cigarette, his sixth that night. That, too, was an act of rebellion. Abbey would smell it on him back at the hotel and when she started to lecture, he'd walk away, the way she did when he dared to ask her for the truth about her interaction with Alex. He pictured it in his mind, the childish way he'd respond to her now as if it was tit for tat. It disgusted him. This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go, he remembered. It was supposed to be a night to celebrate her, her accomplishments, her passion for medicine and medical education. It had turned into a drama-infested mess and as much as he didn't want to, he had to admit he shared the blame for that. If only he'd been more understanding, more gentle with her, maybe she would have opened up instead of shutting him out. That was his only regret tonight, and it was strong enough that it overshadowed everything else. He put out his cigarette, slipped his hands into his pocket, and headed home.

Abbey paced in front of the windows in the Bartlets' tenth-floor suite. She'd changed into her nightgown and tried to get some rest as she waited for Jed to return, but the time dragged on and she stared at the minutes turning to hours on the bedside clock. She worried that he was somewhere, cold and alone, stewing in his anger and distrust. Hours earlier, he'd been so entranced by the lights that winked through the windows that she wondered if he was walking around the city. Or maybe even the harbor, she thought. The fog had dimmed the glow of the skyline and it looked pitch-black down by the water. There was something terrifyingly alluring about black water, he'd told her during a moonlit stroll on the beach in Nantucket one summer. He loved listening to the waves he couldn't see. It was peaceful and mysterious all at the same time.

But then her mind wandered to more ominous possibilities. What if he'd gone looking for Alex, like she feared? What if he was injured? What if he needed her and she didn't know? Her heart ached with guilt. If she'd told him that she hadn't been unfaithful, he would have stayed, or at the very least, he wouldn't have left so angry. Her stubborn edge reared its head and she reacted in outrage that he even asked the question. She wished she could take it back and set the record straight. So what if he needed reassurance, she now realized. It wasn't the end of the world, especially after he went to so much trouble to make tonight so perfect for her.

She reached for the phone to call the concierge when she heard footsteps at the door and someone fumbling with the lock. She dropped the receiver as Jed walked in.

"Where have you been?" It came out sharper than she intended.

"I took a walk around the wharf."

"You could have called."

"I could have." He took off his jacket and tossed it onto the back of the loveseat with no hint of an apology for not calling.

"I was worried," she said, softer.

"There was no reason to be."

"You've been drinking." It wasn't a question. He slurred his words and she smelled it on him.

"We were both drinking."

"I meant you went back to the bar."

"Yeah, I did. And just to save some time, I was smoking too."

There was something almost smug about his confession. Or was it just that she was overly sensitive after their fight that she imagined a more provocative tone than he intended? She wasn't sure. "Are you trying to pick a fight?"

He sighed in frustration and after a beat, he said, "No. I spent all day trying to get you not to be mad at me."

"You went to a lot of trouble to surprise me."

"I did," he agreed. "My insistence that we go to the benefit, it was all for you."

"I know that now."

"And I could handle the snippiness and the grumbling. I thought it would all be worth it once you knew you were being honored. I thought we'd come back to this beautiful suite and celebrate, have some champagne, turn on some music, enjoy each other's company. Instead, you shut down on me."

"That's not why I shut down."

"Isn't it?"

"No, Jed. I'm grateful for the surprise. It was the part that came after. The Alex part."

"Right, you don't want to talk about Alex."

"Yes."

"Well, that's a problem, Abbey...at least that's what you tend to say when the situation is reversed."

"But it's never been reversed exactly like this, has it?"

"No, I'll give you that." They'd had fights about Jed keeping secrets in the past, but this was different and not just because it was Abbey who hadn't been entirely honest. This felt more serious, the story more sinister.

"Things escalated quickly last night."

"They did," he admitted. "And I'm sorry about that, but I'm sure you can understand how I feel. You've been in my shoes before."

"I've never accused you of sleeping with another woman."

And with that, came a long minute of silence as it sank in and Jed realized how much he'd hurt her.

"I didn't accuse you," he said.

"You might as well have. How could you even ask me if I've been unfaithful?"

She was right, he thought. Whatever possessed him to believe Alex, for even a second, he didn't know. It made him sick that he'd allowed the mind games to get to him. "I don't know."

"Do you really think I'd ever do that to you, that I'd betray you, that I'd betray my vows?"

"No, but I also didn't think you'd keep me in the dark about what that snake did to you."

"I didn't keep you in the dark."

"Yes, you did. And how do you think it felt to be the only one in the room not privy to whatever secret you two are keeping?"

"We're not keeping any secrets."

"There is obviously something going on that I don't know about. I could see it in the way you looked at him. It was more than just contempt. It was fear that he would tell me something you haven't."

"No, Jed, you misunderstood. I wasn't conspiring with him, my god."

"Then what? Tell me now. What is it?"

"It was about that day...when he tried to kiss me. I told you about it. I omitted some of the details because..."

"It was humiliating, I get it."

"I didn't want those details to come from his mouth, that's all."

"Why? And more importantly, if you can't tell me something as serious as this without being prompted by the fear that someone else is going to, what does that say about us? What does it say about our marriage?"

"It doesn't say anything about us or about our marriage."

"The hell it doesn't. I still don't know the whole story and to be honest, it's driving me crazy."

She had to tell him, Abbey decided. As painful as it was, it broke her heart that he thought she'd ever conspire with anyone against him. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything. Did he actually kiss you?"

"No, I swear. His mouth touched mine, but he didn't kiss me. I didn't give him the chance."

"Did he rip your clothes? Were his hands under your skirt?"

"No, it wasn't like that. It wasn't violent." She took a breath. "And that's the thing. Some would say it wasn't even a big deal."

"Clearly it was or you wouldn't be reacting like this."

"I don't know why it affected me the way it did," she went on. "When I think about it logically, even I think it wasn't a big deal...but for some reason, I can't reconcile the logic with how I feel...with how HE made me feel."

"How?"

"Humiliated. Violated. And the thing is, I can't figure out why. It's not like it went on for hours. He didn't hit me or rape me."

"He doesn't have to beat you or rape you for it to have been a big deal."

"I know that, Jed. I know. I've lived the PSA, I've reiterated it to our girls. I know that I did nothing wrong, that this was all him, and that he had no right to touch me. I get all that."

"Then what's the confusion here?"

"The betrayal. I trusted him and he used me. He treated me like nothing more than a sex object and I didn't see it until I was put in a position where I thought he might actually hurt me. I've been fighting my emotions the past week because I don't understand it."

"Of course you don't understand it, Abbey. You're keeping it bottled up inside. You need to process it, sweetheart. Let me help you. Tell me what happened."

"It scared me. I'd never seen him like that before. He was so aggressive and strong."

"What did he do?"

"After the M&M, I felt anxious, kind of like I did the night that Frank Pendleton died. Everyone left and it was just Alex and me. He assured me that it wasn't my fault, that I did everything I could to save Frank. And then..."

"And then what?" She bowed her head and Jed changed his tone. He approached her. "It's okay," he said supportively. "I'm here. You can tell me anything."

"He put his arm around me. I tried to move and he tightened his grip. I was surprised. I looked at him and he looked back, right into my eyes as his hold tightened even more. He was a totally different person, Jed."

"What happened then?" he asked softly, unsure if he could live with what more she had to say.

"I felt trapped. He pulled me into a hug, not a platonic one...more aggressive. It was like the weight of his body was on top of mine. He pressed his chest into my breasts so hard, it felt as if someone was holding us together. I wiggled to get away, but no matter what I did, he held me tighter. His hands roamed and yes, he did grab my rearend. His fingers dug into my flesh and I swore he'd leave marks. He angled his hand so that he could get between my legs. His other hand was around my neck. When I moved even a little, he grabbed the back of my head, he pulled my hair to push my face closer to his. He wouldn't let go. No matter how much I struggled, he just kept at it."

"How far did he go?"

"I got away."

"How?"

Abbey thought for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't know. The whole thing lasted 10 seconds."

"How did it end?"

"I felt him...his...his erection," she said. "Apparently, this was just foreplay to him."

Jed was horrified by what he heard. He loosened his bowtie and Abbey watched as he struggled to comprehend what she'd told him. Her abuse and vulnerability triggered another man's erection. He clenched his fists again. He knew that it was a physiologic response, Alex's erection, likely prompted by the thought of kissing her, but logic did nothing to numb the shock. His expression changed from anger to rage to hatred. Then, he looked at his wife and all that faded and changed once again, to compassion.

"It wasn't violent?" he asked, parroting the words she'd said to him seconds earlier. "I can't think of anything more violent than someone forcefully putting his hands on you."

Abbey's eyes pooled with tears. "I struggled enough that I managed to squirm out of his hold. I'll never forget how hard it was to get away, how terrified I was when he was in control."

Jed touched her hand, then her arm. He carefully studied her response before he opened his arms and folded them around her. "He's not in control anymore. He'll never touch you again, I promise."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you the whole story that night. We might have avoided this whole thing."

"Shh, it's okay." He gently stroked her hair and kissed her on the head. "I love you. I love you so much."

Jed was grateful to know the whole story, but he hated what retelling it did to her. Abbey was a strong, independent woman. Tonight, she was vulnerable and scared. He hadn't seen her like this since the day Frank Crews went before the parole board, forcing her to relive his vile attack on her. Alex may not have traumatized her in the same way, but he was her friend, her confidante, and that alone triggered the sting of an intimate violation and the shock of a betrayal of her instincts and personal safety.

He rubbed her back in soothing circles as he silently vowed to destroy the son of a bitch.

The darkness started to pass and with the first hint of Boston's sunrise filtering in through the open window of the bedroom, Jed stared at Abbey's naked shoulder exposed over the sheet that sheltered the rest of her body. She had her back to him and he lifted the sheet ever-so-slightly to see her upper back. Nothing. No trace of that creep's touch. He thought back to what Abbey had said, that Alex had held her so tight, she worried he'd leave marks. It had been days now and any bruises had surely faded, but if he'd been more attentive when he first got back to town, he might have been able to see them. He made love to her that first night and didn't even notice. Had he been blind, he wondered.

He'd spent their entire married lives studying every inch of her body. He knew her body better than he knew his own - the feel of her soft, smooth skin, her delicate neck and shoulders, the beautiful mounds at her chest, the feminine curves at her waist, hips, and rear, and those gorgeous legs he always admired. He knew about the mole on her right inner thigh, the tiny scar on her knee from a bicycle accident when she was in grade school, and the cute little dimples on her lower back. He knew her body so well that he instantly recognized any injury or change. He'd been there when each of the girls was born, had seen the evidence of childbirth. And when she miscarried their fourth child, he'd witnessed both her physical and emotional pain from the surgery to remove the baby from her uterus. He'd seen her in the hospital after Frank Crews attacked her, her limbs and back battered from his physical assault. The psychological consequences took their toll, but ultimately, he'd helped her heal, driven her to rehab, and every night, he examined the scars from the defensive wounds on her hands. In 20 years, no cut, bruise, or scar ever got by him and it enraged him that this time, he'd been so consumed by his hormones that he didn't take the time to notice.

With a delicate sweep of his finger, he moved her hair out of the way.

Suddenly, Abbey stirred. Already awake, she turned around to face him. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I was..." He stopped short of covering up what he was really doing.

"Looking for a bruise?" She knew him well.

"The thought of him hurting you, Abbey...of anyone hurting you...I just can't stand it. And now I can't help thinking, what did I miss? Were there bruises and I didn't see them?"

"No, there weren't."

"How do you know?"

"Because I checked."

"There are certain areas you couldn't have seen."

"Honey, I'm all right."

"I just wish..."

"I wish I would have told you too." She ran her hand up and down his arm until she landed at his fingers. She examined them, one at a time, wiggling them while looking at his face for a reaction.

He gave a slight wince when she reached the third and fourth fingers. "That hurts."

"Hold still." Abbey pressed harder just above the knuckle. No response. "It's called a boxer's fracture for a reason. I told you to put ice on it."

"I had other things on my mind." She bent his middle finger forward and pushed it back until he moaned. "AH! What the hell?"

"It's not broken."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. We can go to the ER to get an x-ray if you want."

"I don't need an x-ray," he said, dismissively. "I didn't hit him hard enough."

"I wouldn't get cocky; it's still bruised and swollen. Will you put some ice on it please?"

"Yes, I will." He sat up, then paused and rubbed his forehead.

"What's wrong?"

"Just give me a minute. I'm not feeling so hot."

Abbey sat up with him. "What is it?"

"My head hurts and my stomach's doing somersaults."

"Too much alcohol?"

"Too much something, that's for sure."

"You think you can get up?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You're not dizzy?"

"No, just a little nauseated."

"Why don't you go take a shower and I'll get some ice ready to go when you get out."

Jed nodded, then rose slowly to his feet, still in his pants and dress shirt from the night before, the untucked shirt now a wrinkled mess. Abbey watched as he undressed on his way to the shower. He wasn't the only one feeling sick. Her stomach churned, a combination of anxiety and dread for what was yet to come. She loved her husband for defending her the way he had, but she also hated what this meant. She worried that Alex would blackmail her, force her to drop the formal complaint against him by agreeing not to file legal charges against Jed. In the short time they'd been friends, he'd learned the one way to get to Abbey was to threaten Jed and she was certain he'd take advantage of that knowledge eventually.

After his shower, Jed wrapped himself up in a white terry robe and exited the bathroom to find Abbey tipping the waiter for breakfast. "Room service?"

"I didn't think you'd want to go downstairs for breakfast." She handed him the plastic sleeve from the ice bucket, now filled with ice. "Put that on your hand."

"I planned to take you on a breakfast cruise around the harbor."

"That would have been nice."

"We can still do it."

Her lips curved into a frown. "It's cold and rainy out."

"A little rain isn't going to bother anyone and don't even start on the cold. It's 50 degrees outside. That's positively balmy."

"Then why's the harbor deserted?" she challenged.

"Because Bostonians don't know the meaning of the word warm. They're not as hardy as us northern New Englanders."

Always amused when he went on these rants, Abbey allowed a small laugh. "Tell you what, let's eat now and if we still feel like a cruise, we'll do it before we go home."

"Yeah, okay."

"Did the shower help?"

"It woke me up. The jury's still out on the headache and nausea."

"Sit down." She lifted the domed covers over their meal. "I ordered dry toast, coffee, and ginger ale."

"That's breakfast?" He furrowed his brows as he examined the dishes. "Seriously, where's the real food?"

"Let's see how you tolerate this first."

"I thought you treated a hangover with an aspirin and a big, greasy cheeseburger. Or at least a generous helping of bacon and sausage."

"Here's the aspirin." She opened the bottle of pills in her hand. "The greasy food thing is a myth."

"Now you tell me. I built up a craving in the shower." Jed took a seat.

"Besides, this isn't an ordinary hangover."

"No?" he questioned as he grabbed a piece of toast and ripped it in two.

"You'd probably feel fine this morning if not for the pack of cigarettes you went through."

"I handle nicotine just fine."

"Nicotine makes you more susceptible to the affects of alcohol and, by extension, the symptoms of a hangover. Also, you didn't sleep at all last night. That's likely contributing."

"Or I just got drunk."

"You don't get drunk."

"That's how pissed I was."

She looked at him, silently, until she took a quit sip of her coffee and set it down. "I'm going to go shower."

"Hey." He reached for her hand as she passed by. "Are we okay?"

"Yeah." Abbey leaned down from behind him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "We're just fine, Jethro."

"I hate when you call me that."

"I know, but you're too sick to fight it today. Eat your breakfast."

Jed chuckled and reluctantly washed down the toast with a sip of gingerale.

The Bartlet girls enjoyed weekends with their grandparents. They were doted on and spoiled and if Jed and Abbey didn't give any restrictions, they were treated like queens every minute of their visit. They even had their own room at the Barrington family home, complete with a set of large antique bunk beds made of glossy dark pine. Lizzie and Ellie shared the bunks until Zoey came along. Liz then got her own bed and Ellie moved up the ladder to the top bunk, giving Zoey the bottom.

On that April morning, Zoey climbed up to her sister's bed. She found Ellie buried under the covers, only a blonde tendril of hair peeking out from the sheets. The hyper seven-year-old smiled a devilish grin, then bounced on the mattress with the enthusiasm of a circus performer.

"Wake up, Ellie!"

Shaken, Ellie angrily replied, "You do that again and I'll throw you off the bed. Now leave me alone!"

"You're so grumpy," Zoey giggled on her way back down the ladder. "Grandma, she's awake!"

She skipped down the hall toward the kitchen where she heard her grandmother making breakfast.

"Did you tell her I'm making banana pancakes?" Mary asked.

"I forgot. I'll have to wake her again."

"Not so fast!"

"What?"

"You just want to bother her."

"No, I don't."

"Sweet pea, you act like I didn't already raise daughters. I know what little sisters are like. Your mom and Aunt Kate wrote the book on sibling rivalry. Now get over here and help me make muffins."

Zoey hopped up on the stool Mary set out for her. "How many?"

"A dozen."

"How many is that?"

"You know how many a dozen is."

"No, I don't."

Mary looked at her, surprised. "Twelve."

"Oh."

"What if I told you I had six in the oven already. How many more do I need?" Zoey stared at her blankly. "Zoey?"

"You have six in the oven?"

"That's right. How many more do I need?"

"I'm not sure."

"Figure it out. You know how to subtract, don't you?"

Zoey was nervous. She practically froze. "Yeah..."

Mary waited and when there was no answer, she said, "It's six silly. If I need 12 and I already have six, I need six more, right? Six plus six equals 12."

A sigh of relief. "Oh, yeah. I forgot."

Mary found it odd that her granddaughter couldn't answer the simplest of math questions, but she attributed her silence to spring break fatigue and moved on. Around the corner, Ellie heard everything. She knew the truth and Zoey's lack of ability startled her. She'd debated for a while now telling her parents that she had been completing Zoey's math homework. She always dismissed the thought, wanting to avoid getting them both in trouble, but for the past few weeks, she'd started to realize how big a mistake she'd made, and she had no idea how to fix it.

Quietly, she tiptoed back upstairs.

Abbey reached for her bathrobe and stepped out of the shower, leaving her hair to fall into loose, wet curls that framed her face. Jed always loved that wet hair. Her sexy glam turned him on, but he used to say there was something so sweet and innocent about her right after a shower, no makeup on her face and her natural waves and curls not yet tamed by the heat of the blowdryer.

She opened the door, her robe tied loosely around her waist. "Hey."

Jed had the phone pinned to his ear. He gestured to her, then returned to the call. "Just fax it to me. I'll look it over and send it back. We'll make it a conference call out of the Manchester office at 3 p.m. Monday."

She listened quietly as he confirmed his plans to work out of his Manchester office for another week. When he hung up the receiver, she asked, "Monday?"

"Guess what?"

"What?"

"The rain let up and the toast did the trick. How about that cruise before we hit the road?"

"Not until you answer my question. Monday?"

"That's not a question."

"Jed."

"I re-arranged some things."

"Why?"

"Now's not the time for me to go back to D.C.," he told her.

"Because of Alex?"

"Not directly. You've got a lot on your plate."

"I can handle it," she said as she grabbed a pair of winter white leggings from her suitcase and paired it with an oversized winter white cable-knit sweater.

"I have no doubt that's true, but you don't have to. We're a team. It's my turn to help out."

"You do help out."

"Not enough. You have this thing with Alex, you still have the Pendleton case, your regular patients and surgeries, and in the small amount of free time you have, you're doing a damn good job taking care of our daughters."

"This was the sacrifice we agreed to when you ran for a second term."

"Screw our agreement. You don't have to do this all by yourself, Abbey. You don't have to be superwoman."

The statement lingered in the air. Abbey didn't know what to make of it. Of course, she was thankful that she had such a considerate husband, but she suspected more to his motivation. "Not as long as you're playing superman."

He frowned at that. "What are you talking about?"

"What's the real reason you're staying in New Hampshire?"

"The real reason?"

"You want to keep an eye on Alex."

"Abbey."

"We've been married 20 years, Jed. I know everything about you, including how your mind works when it comes to this kind of thing. You're staying because of Alex, because you want to protect me."

"Fine, what's so wrong with me wanting to protect you?"

"Nothing's wrong with it. I just wanted you to admit it so that I can tell you I don't need you to protect me."

"Okay," he replied unconvincingly.

"I may have felt helpless when Alex grabbed me, but don't forget that I got out of his hold on my own."

"I know you did."

"And I fought back. I didn't freeze. It wasn't like Frank Crews." Abbey saw him cringe at that name. The man responsible for the darkest period in their lives would never be forgotten. "That's what you were thinking, isn't it?"

"I understand the difference and I also understand the similarities."

"What similarities?"

"The similarities for me, Abbey. I wasn't there when Crews put his hands on you. I wasn't there when Alex did it. It seems anytime you need me, I'm not around."

"I never blamed you."

"I know that. It's not about blame. I'm just saying, I'd like to, you know, be a husband."

"You are a husband, a damn good one," she said firmly. "But I maintain, there are no similarities...other than they're both pigs."

Jed chuckled as he circled his arms around her and clasped his hands as they rested on her hips. "Fair enough. I still want to stay. No ulterior motives. I just want to be with you."

"Okay," she said, smiling back at him. "I kind of like having you around."

"I kind of like being around."

"I'll go get ready and we can go on that cruise."

"Hang on." Jed stopped her in her tracks by pulling on her belt. "We never got to celebrate your award."

"No, we didn't."

He glanced at his watch. "We have an hour before we have to check out."

She asked with a flirtatious grin, "What do you have in mind?"

His warm hands slipped beneath her robe, dropping it from her shoulders and exposing her beautiful nude form. Abbey melted into his kiss as they made their way to the bed. Jed rid himself of his clothes, then climbed on top of her. He used gentle strokes, his hands, his body, and his tongue. After the way she'd been manhandled by Alex in his violent attempt at seduction, Jed wanted her to feel safe with him, secure in the knowledge that he would never hurt her or take her without permission.

One finger traced the features on her face and trailed down her lips, her neck, and her chest. When he circled then cupped her breast, he watched her reaction. "Are you okay?"

"I'm always okay with you," she whispered as she breathed just a little harder in anticipation of what came next.

There was a trampoline in the Barrington backyard. It was where Abbey and Kate spent hours playing when they were little, before Abbey fell and broke her arm one hot summer night during a family barbecue. It didn't get much use after that, until Lizzie discovered the world of cheerleading. Spoiling his granddaughter as he was known to do, James bought a new trampoline and had a safety net installed around it. The day he unveiled it, Liz squealed and jumped in his arms, then immediately took to the springy mesh to practice her tumbling tricks.

During the winter, the trampoline was tucked away, but as soon as Jed called to tell his in-laws that he and Abbey needed a night alone in Boston, James worked to make sure it was ready for use. He accomplished that task and that April morning, immediately after breakfast, Zoey excitedly followed her grandfather to the backyard.

Ellie lingered behind and helped to clear the table.

"Don't you want to play outside?" Mary asked her.

"Nah."

"You used to love the trampoline."

Ellie shrugged. "I'm okay."

Mary gave her a stern look. "No, you're not. What's going on, sunshine?"

"Grandma, can I ask you something?"

"Always."

"Earlier, when you asked Zoey to subtract and she couldn't...is that weird? She should know how by now, right?" Mary appeared confused. Ellie hadn't been around during that interaction, or so she thought. The 12-year-old confessed, "I overheard."

"Ah," Mary said with a nod before answering the question. "I'm sure she knows how. She's just not in the school mindset with it being spring break and all."

"But I don't think she knows how."

"Of course she does. Her teacher has taught it by now, I'm certain."

"She doesn't pay attention during math class. She's told me that herself."

"Well, then she must have picked it up while doing homework. I'm sure if she was struggling in math, your parents would help her."

"That's just it though. No one knows she's struggling because her homework is always done and her exams are all take-home quizzes."

"So she must be doing them."

"No, she's not."

"Then your parents must be taking care of it."

"They don't know."

"How could they not know? Hasn't her teacher been in touch with them?"

"Her teacher doesn't know either. Grandma, I've been doing all her math homework for the past five months. Worksheets, textbook problems, quizzes, everything."

"What?"

"It started last November. She had a worksheet to do and she didn't understand it, so she asked me to help. But she wasn't getting it and it was getting late. She kept calling herself stupid, so I did the work on a piece of paper and then she copied it over on her worksheet so that when Mom and Dad checked her homework, they'd see that it's her handwriting."

"Eleanor."

"I thought it was just going to be that one time. But then, one time turned into two, and then three, and pretty soon, she just expected me to do it all the time."

"And you did?"

Ellie nodded, ashamed. "I wanted to help. I felt bad for her. I tried to tell her I wouldn't do it anymore, but she begged me and I gave in. I know I shouldn't have and I especially know it now. She's so far behind. I don't know what to do."

"You need to tell your parents, that's what you do."

"She'll be in so much trouble."

"Maybe she deserves to be in trouble. She needs to learn just how wrong this is."

"Mom and Dad are going to be so mad."

"They'd have a right to be."

"I pinky swore that I wouldn't tell."

"Do you want me to tell them?"

"No, they'll be even more mad if it comes from you."

"Well then, you need to break your promise and tell your parents. It's for Zoey's own good."

"I know. I'll tell them."

"Tell them tonight, Ellie. The sooner, the better."

She thought asking her grandmother for advice would help to ease her conscious. Instead, Ellie felt the reality of what she'd done and knew she had to put an end to it. She had been wanting to for a while, but Zoey would hate her, never trust her again, she repeatedly told herself. That wasn't an excuse anymore, she decided. No matter what, she had to tell her parents and this time, she wasn't going to give Zoey a chance to stop her.

Alex Foster had been happily married to his college sweetheart for 25 years. His wife, Julia, was his whole world until that fateful night that she kissed him goodbye and never came home. It was a drunk driver, he'd been told. A head-on collision. She didn't have a chance. The day he'd buried her, he almost took his own life, but he couldn't bring himself to do it until the maniac responsible for her death was punished in a court of law.

On the day of the sentencing, he'd accomplished his goal. But by then, thoughts of suicide were a distant memory. Instead, Alex resigned his job and bought a lakeside cabin in upstate New York, where he retreated from life and lived as a hermit, his depression flourishing in his loneliness for the next two years. His grief never subsided, but somehow, his love of medicine brought him out of the darkness and he re-emerged with a new destination in mind.

Being a doctor was all he knew since Julia's death. He woke up in the morning with the sole purpose of saving lives and sparing others the heartbreak he had endured. He traveled to New Hampshire with plans for a fresh start far away from the haunts of the past. He never planned to get romantically involved with anyone. He didn't want a girlfriend or another wife. He was content with his memories of the one woman he'd love until eternity.

Then, he met Abbey.

Alex's world changed and for the first time since Julia's death, he imagined himself happy again. When he found out about Jed, he kept things platonic, fighting the urge every single day to confess his feelings in case there was any hope, however slim, that Abbey felt the same. He fought and fought until that one day that he couldn't fight any longer.

In a moment of weakness, he made a move on her. She was vulnerable and he took advantage of it. He hated himself for it afterwards, his actions so deplorable that he even considered leaving town and never looking back. But then the bombshell hit him - Abbey had accused him of sexual assault and the sheer notion of it enraged him.

What he did was wrong, but did it rise to the level of a criminal act? Did it warrant a charge that would forever mar his career? He knew that if such a charge was proven, he'd not only lose his privileges at the hospital, he'd have to testify before the medical board and from then on, he'd always have to check the box on every medical licensing application that implied he was a sexual predator. All because he made a pass at a friend.

Thinking about it now, alone, inside his Manchester condo, filled him with anger. He began strategizing, determined to mount a defense that hinged on undermining Abbey's credibility and casting her motives in a suspicious light by convincing everyone they'd had an affair.

TBC