Authors Note: I acknowledge I have no ownership rights to Beverly Hills 90210 characters or canon, the rest well yeah that's mine.

Chapter Four: The Last Day of 1993

It had been emotionally draining to say goodbye to my Minnesota family, especially after all the care and rallying around me that they had done over the last seven months. If it wasn't for them Art and I may not be here now, but it was time to return to LA. They had made me promise to bring him back during the Summer for a visit and to call and write regularly. Those were oaths I would honour.

Art managed to cope with the flight mainly because he spent most of it in my arms. He had a limit of being held for fifteen minutes then he was done, it didn't matter if it was my Grandma, cousin Bobby, his uncle, his Grandpa or even his Grandma. Since he was born he could handle a fifteen-minute cuddle and then he'd fuss wanting his own space, he was a little loner like another McKay I knew. His Grandma Cindy was especially put out by this, my brother was secretly pleased that she was. He believed if Art wouldn't even give the famous Cindy Walsh longer than fifteen minutes then it wasn't a personal attack on him.

That rule applied to everyone but me, then Art would only fuss if he was being put down. His father at one stage had felt the same way as well. Only wanted me close to him, only trusting me. His dad had been playing a lot on my mind over Christmas. Denying Dylan his first Christmas with his son had never been my intent. Denying him anything had never been my intent, but maybe that was the problem. A week after that first call I had moved in full-time with my Grandma, within a week of the second I had been pretty much put on bed rest. Denying Dylan anything was not in my nature, even if it cost me too much. If I was going to spend a lifetime with him co-parenting our son I would need to put an end to that.

Steve met us at the airport with a baby seat already installed into Brandon's Stang. My big goofus of a brother realising that the last thing I'd want after travelling for hours would be to fight with installing one in Jim's car. He was the sweetest. Brandon loved the addition to his car, laughing that it meant his nephew could only travel with him from now on. He didn't however love it when I insisted on the top-up on the convertible. My child was not dealing with LA smog and freeway speeds without some level of protection.

By the time we arrived at the door at Casa Walsh it was time for his midday feed and then down for his nap. I planned to use the time that he was asleep to go and visit his dad, refusing to put it off a minute more. Once Art was down in his travel cot I had a quick shower to wash off the plane ride and then dressed in jeans and a button-up shirt. A requirement of all my clothes these days is easy access, my son when hungry was like his father a grump. Checking on Art one last time I made my way downstairs to four nervous sets of eyes in the lounge room. Placing Art's monitor on the desk I looked at them all.

"He should sleep for at least another eighty minutes but with his sleep schedule a little off he might wake sooner. If he does wake, try and settle him, but he's stubborn like his Uncle," Brandon tilted his head and lifted his brow. Please I wasn't the only stubborn twin. "I'd give up after five minutes if it doesn't work. I haven't had time to express since arriving so you can try and give him a formula bottle. All the stuff is in his baby bag upstairs. It's not his favourite thing to drink so if he refuses then just call me at Dylan's."

"Honey, maybe you should wait. Do this tomorrow."

My Dad believed he had a right to know but from what Brandon had told me from his comments over Christmas he was less than pleased that I would be forever connected to Dylan McKay. From his pleading tone, I'm guessing he would prefer that link not be acknowledged today. "Dad it won't be any easier tomorrow."

"What about checking your blood pressure one more time?" Ever since my Doctor's appointment two days ago, they had tried to get me to check my pressure every hour, it was sweet but annoying. I could imagine if it even was slightly up it would give them another reason to ask me to hold off on this conversation.

I drew on my inner actress putting on my most persuasive tone, "It's fine. As my Doctor said it's only slightly elevated but more importantly it is no longer prone to frequent spiking. Hopefully, in another few weeks, I will be completely back to normal."

"Brenda let me at least drive you. I can wait outside and if anything happens, if you become too stressed I can take you home." I sigh but can see the hope in my parents' eyes that I'll accept the offer.

"Okay Steve, thank you that would be great."

Arriving at Dylan's he reaches over and hugs me. "If it gets too much I'll be here in your getaway car. We can pick up the Aquatic King and go on the run like Thelma and Louise but without the big jump at the end." He then gives me a serious look, "You'll be Louise of course and I'll be Thelma, she got to sleep with Brad. Wait who's the female version of Pitt?" I give him a thankful smile exit the car, and then turn around.

"Cindy Crawford?" He shakes his head.

"Too hot you need an unbelievable but realistic hot… this is going to bug me." I begin to walk away then turn around.

"Stephanie Seymour. That's it, she's your Brad Pitt."

"Who?" Seriously?

"Axl's Bride in November Rain."

It's like a light bulb goes off. "Oh, she is hot! Yeah, that's it. I'm Thelma in our duo and I get Stephanie… jump back in now we should go find her."

I laugh because he is serious. "Tomorrow we'll find your Stephanie, let me go and do this now." I point in the direction of the house.

As I walk away I hear him call out, "My plan is more fun." I laugh.

I walk up the familiar porch but don't even make it to the mat before the door is pulled open and a beaming Dylan welcomes me in. After a quick hug on my end, a little longer on Dylan's we go into the living room and take up seats on the futon, angling ourselves so we are facing the other. Looking around the room I take note of a few new items in the room.

"Have you been to Disneyland recently or have you moved your ear fetish to Mickey's?"

He gives me an amused look. "Funny, but that hurts you know my spot is just behind your ear that smooth skin there that lets me breathe in your hair and then when my tongue touches your…" My unamused look gets him to stop the description that had him unconsciously inching forward with each word. He realises how close he has got, "sorry that… well I…" He sits back, sighs and rubs his hand through his hair. "Seven days, twelve weeks, seven months, eleven months, fourteen months, nineteen months… each of them represents a time I lost you a little, I just." He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, "I don't think you realise how much I've misse-"

I cut him off, "So you went to Disneyland?"

He opens his eyes and looks at me, his tone changes to neutral but I know him I can pick up the slight disappointment that underlies it. "We went on Christmas Day. The woman Suzanne and the girl Erica who were at my door on Christmas Eve, turns out she was an ex-girlfriend of Jack's and well Erica is my sister." He becomes animated, "Bren she's amazing, she's ten years old and she's really smart and sweet. She's going to love you."

He was excited, I sadly was not. "Dylan, are you sure? Did Jack mention anything to you about another child? Do you remember this woman? I mean why wouldn't she come forward before?"

He lost a little of his enthusiasm, "No but that was the year after my parents divorced in the summer of 81, and by 82 my Dad had taken to travelling lots. They were together for a few months but from what I can tell she parted ways with him badly. He wasn't the greatest guy to be involved with." He got a look of embarrassment, "he wasn't the most faithful partner. She found out afterwards that she was pregnant and decided to do it by herself. She heard about his death in the news and wanted to pay her respects." This didn't feel right. Jack McKay was a multimillionaire she could have had all the best support for her child, but then again if she knew the year prior Jack had paid off Iris to leave and give him full custody of Dylan maybe she was worried he'd do the same.

I tried to put a more understanding tone in my voice, "Are they still in town?"

"Yeah she lost her home in the floods a few months ago, she is trying to figure out whether they'll stay here or go home and rebuild. They have been staying here with me since Christmas but with you coming by I got them two day passes for Six Flags Magic Mountain and a hotel for the night near the theme park." He changed to his shy tone again the one he had used when asking me to dinner over the phone seven days ago. "I wanted to spend some time with you alone, it's been a long time since it's just been you and me."

I got off the couch walked over to the window and closed my eyes, this wasn't the best time for this. Whilst I was running the scenarios in my head about whether to stay or go, I didn't hear him approach until he moved in front of me and placed his hands on my upper arms. "Hey, what's going on? You look worried and a little pale." Looking into his eyes I could see the sincerity and the concern, I couldn't put this off any longer.

"Let's go back to the couch, I have something to tell you." He nods and we make our way back over as we sit down he asks.

"Is it bad? Should I be worried?"

"No it's not bad, it's good, amazing, but I think there will be parts of it you won't like. I guess I should start with the fact I haven't been well," he grabs my hand and a flash of panic rushes across his face. "I'm nearly back to normal but I still have to be mindful of too much stress setting off my blood pressure. If you could let me get through it in one go, even when it comes to the parts you don't like I would appreciate it."

"Okay, but you are fine right? There is nothing for me to worry about?" He looks into my eyes. "Nothing life-threatening?"

"Not anymore."

He tightens his hold on my hand, "but at one stage?"

"It was a possibility, but the Doctors intervened and six weeks later we were dancing at my parents' anniversary party together." His eyes got big, "though I still haven't been able to regulate my blood pressure as well as we hoped, it is stable and nearly in the normal range."

"Your parents said nothing at the party or even at Thanksgiving."

"They only found out at Christmas."

"Brandon and Steve knew." He was speaking to himself making sense of some of the last few months. "That's why they flew out to you in Minnesota, and why Brandon was so worried about you during the semester. Andrea even asked me if I knew anything because neither Brandon nor Steve would let her know what was going on but she heard them discussing you a few times. You never said anything on the phone and you sounded fine. What happened, it wasn't?" He looked at my chest.

"No nothing like that." I breathe out, "Okay so I guess I should start from the beginning." I pause to collect myself. "That night eleven months ago happened at the end of January and then three weeks later you chose. Obviously, it was a shock not only because it was the end of us but the fact that both of you had lied to me. You had lied to me for nearly six months. Then to be told like that to be ganged up on. For you not to tell me it was her that summer, that I had been made to think it was all honourable between you. That it was my fault for breaking up with you. That I was in the wrong, and everyone was made to believe she, you were innocent. Well, all of it hurt a lot." I could feel my eyes get heavy with tears. I took my hand out of his. "Anyway, I was sad like I had never been before and well I thought the stress of it caused some physical changes. I was constantly nauseous so I wasn't eating much and my period was late." He closed his eyes and rubbed his brow.

"I didn't realise what was happening till I fainted after leaving the hospital the night of Kelly's birthday." He opened his eyes and gave me a worried look. "Steve caught me luckily and both he and Brandon insisted on getting me checked out. The blood test results were a shock. I was pretty underweight, my Doctor was worried that I might lose the," he looked into my eyes waiting for me to say the word, "Baby if I didn't get my weight up." He went to interrupt, I placed my open palm up for him to stop. "With everything you were dealing with mourning your Dad, and Kelly being sick, I didn't think you needed to worry about a risky pregnancy, not even out of the first trimester with your ex-girlfriend. I didn't think you needed more to be added to that plate. My weight continued to be on the low side and with the next two months of drama her insecurities, the fighting, and the end of school. I just came to the conclusion I just wanted a bit of peace. I knew my first semester of College was due to be interrupted just before November," he did the math he had seen me the second week of November I hadn't just given birth.

"I enrolled in the summer session and planned to get a jump start on College ensuring I wouldn't fall behind. Then once I was further along in my pregnancy, hopefully at a better weight after a bit of calm, and you had an opportunity to properly mourn your Dad I had planned on telling you and my parents. At twenty-one weeks I was diagnosed with preeclampsia, a condition that explained my ongoing nausea past my first trimester, but more importantly, it was causing my blood pressure to be dangerously high. My Doctor hoped to get it under control but needed me to avoid all stress."

I rubbed my hand through my hair and breathed out, "My blood pressure never calmed down and eventually I was put on bed rest. Just after I passed thirty-four weeks it spiked too high and I was hospitalised." He was breathing deeply and biting his lip. I imagine trying to not interrupt. "Labour was induced but it was risky. I was on aspirin and some safe blood thinners that wouldn't harm the baby but it made the birth dangerous. I could bleed out though the risk of a stroke was too great without them. Anyway it all worked out and," I reached into my bag that was by my feet and passed Dylan photos of his son from the hospital and a few others over the last nearly thirteen weeks. "His name is Arthur Jack McKay, though I just call him Art. He is perfectly healthy, absolutely magical and the spitting image of you." He ran his finger across the image of his son moving through the photos.

He whispered reverently, "he has your eye colour though."

I smile, "yes but that's all I got."

I could tell he tried to remove the condemning tone from his words but there were hints of it anyway. Three months without knowing his son I couldn't blame him for being upset. "He's nearly three months old?"

"Yes, he was born October first at four twenty-three pm. He'll be three months old tomorrow."

He was trying to make sense of why he wasn't informed. "You haven't been well since, not well enough to tell me?"

"My preeclampsia turned into postpartum preeclampsia, it took just before the anniversary party for my protein levels to go back to normal. There was a risk to my kidneys while it was elevated, and for the first six weeks, my blood pressure was medically regulated to reduce the risk of a stroke or organ damage. After the anniversary party, I chose to go off it. While the medication wasn't bad for Art I wasn't comfortable with it going into his milk long term. I have been on aspirin ever since to thin my blood to prevent a clot from forming and my blood pressure has gradually gone down. My doctor in Minnesota is hopeful that in another few weeks, I should be back to normal."

"The Anniversary Party?" I understood what he was trying to ask but did not come out and accuse me of it, I was medicated I could have done it then.

"You had just had the carjacking, I hadn't spoken to you since and well I didn't think it would be a good time. When Brandon had told me what had taken place here that afternoon, that removed any doubt that I may have had."

His frustration was palpable, whether at me, himself or life's continued hurdles. Taking a moment he then asked, "Stress isn't good for you? Is it dangerous?"

"It increases the blood flow pushing up my blood pressure. My body isn't regulating as well as it should at the moment so any spike is a bit of a risk to me." The phone begins to ring. Dylan didn't make a move, he was still too focused on the pictures. "Do you mind if I get it? It could be about Art?" He lifts his head immediately and nods, as I pick up the cordless from the coffee table his eyes are now glued to me.

"Hello."

"Brenda."

My son was making some disgruntled noises through the phone line. "Hey Brandon, is he okay? He sounds a bit grumpy."

"He's fine, but even with a new diaper and a warm bottle served by Grandma, Grandpa and then even me his favourite uncle, he still won't take it, and he refuses to sleep longer."

"Yeah with the time difference and the morning flight his schedule is all off, and even at the best of times he hates taking formula. I'll leave now…" Dylan, who was staring at me trying to follow the conversation about his son, flinched. I pause. "Hold on a second Brandon." I cover the phone to try and stop Brandon from hearing.

"Dylan, I need to feed Art. Would you like me to get Brandon to bring him here? That is if you would like to meet him." He breaks out into a smile.

"I'd like that."

Uncovering the phone I resume my conversation with my brother, "Brandon would you mind bringing him here?"

"Okay if you are sure." I could hear his hesitancy.

I spoke with confidence to ensure he understood that this was something I wanted. "Yes thank you, could you grab the baby bag as well."

From his tone, I can tell he gets what I'm trying to say. "No problem, see you in ten minutes," and then he hangs up.

Placing the phone back on the table I attempt to explain a little of what he heard from my end. "Art is not a fan of formula. He will take it from me but he prefers to nurse or at least have expressed milk in the bottle. I haven't had a chance to do that yet as I put him down for his nap straight away and then had a quick shower to wash off the plane and came over here." I look at my watch, "I should probably tell Steve to go."

His face morphs into confusion, "what? He's here?"

I smile, "Yeah out the front."

He looks devastated. "You were scared of my reaction, of me that you needed protection?"

I jump to reassure him that it wasn't the case. "No, it was actually my reaction that had my parents worried. I let them go to my checkup the other day, they have been paranoid ever since." I give him a look of exasperation, "Scared of bumps, cuts, stress, you name it they are officially paranoid. He is here to reassure them that someone with my medical history is close by if anything should happen."

Relief, annoyance and then uncertainty all wash across his face. "Bumps?"

"Blood thinners such as aspirin mean you don't clot. Clots stop you from bleeding out so without them you bleed more. Even a bump can cause more blood to pool under the skin. It will mean I bruise more easily and they look a little more concerning." I stand, "I'm just going to tell Steve to go. I'll be back in a minute."

Steve wanted to make sure I was okay and by the time he was convinced Brandon was pulling up. I went to settle Art in his car seat and grabbed his baby bag, then detached the baby carrier from the cradle, whilst filling in my twin briefly on how it was going.

"Do you want me to leave the car so you can get home?"

"You don't mind?"

"No Steve can drive me back. We are heading to the Keg New Year's Eve Party at eight, will you be back before then."

"Absolutely. Art will be a little grumpy because of the time difference so I want to keep his nightly routine as normal as possible." My son begins to fuss, "I better get him fed. Thank you both for everything." Brandon slips his keys into the baby bag and kisses my forehead. Steve sends me a wink. I then turn around and walk back to the house. Dylan has the door open before my feet even touch the first step.

"Do you need a hand?" He looks nervous and his eyes keep darting to the carrier.

"Thanks but I'm good." I move past him and put the carrier on the dining table and the baby bag down at my feet. As I start unbuckling my complaining son I begin chatting to him. "Okay, buddy I'm moving as fast as I can." As I lift him he settles and starts his garbling noises. "Oh, that's a much better sound to make when you meet your Daddy." I turn to face Dylan who is frozen. "You okay?"

It takes a moment for him to answer. "Yes. The Daddy title just stopped my heart for a second." He then slowly starts to smile and then he is beaming, it's like his brain just started processing the afternoon. "I'm a Dad." I nod a few times, "I'm a Dad and you're a Mum." He's now pointing at me. I nod my head and bite my lip to stop from laughing. His eyes go big, "we have a child together."

"Yes, we do." I give him an amused smile. "Would you like to officially meet your son?" He nods. I walk over to him, "Art this is your Daddy." Dylan reaches out and touches his cheek. They both appear mesmerised by the other. "Do you want to hold him?" He nods. I gently lift Art into his Daddy's waiting arms and stand back to give them a moment.

Dylan breaths him in and then his eyes scan every part of his face as if he is trying to put it to memory. "Hi Art, it's nice to meet you. I'm your Dad." Art's eyes go big, "I'm going to take such good care of you, you're going to have so much love you won't know what to do with it." Art is focused not even blinking just staring at his Dad like he understands each word. "I'm going to teach you how to surf, how to ride a bike, how to play baseball, and how to read. We are going to do so much." Art breaks into a giant smile. "You like the sound of that do you, son, me too." Dylan kisses his head and closes his eyes.

I move back to the baby bag and grab the disposable camera that I constantly keep in there and turn to capture the moment. Dylan, hearing the click, looks up. "Art, what's Mummy doing? Is she taking our picture buddy?" He tickles his belly, and Art squeals in joy. The camera clicks again. Dylan just stares at him in wonder. I walk over.

Dylan has a look I have never seen on his face, though I know what it is. "It's like nothing you have ever felt before right?"

He reverently declares, "I love him. He's perfect and he feels like he's mine, ours." He looks at me. "Thank you." He then leans down and lays a kiss on my lips. It's not sexual just a thank you. Holding Art against his chest in one arm he wraps the other around me bringing us both into his chest. A few seconds later I can feel his chest vibrate and I look up. He's crying. I rest my head against his chest again and let him have his moment as I silently shed some tears as well. After a few minutes, our son interrupts with a complaining squeal. I chuckle.

"Okay, buddy you have been very patient but I'm guessing you want your milk." Dylan kisses his head as I pick him up and take him over to the couch. As I begin to unbutton my shirt with one hand I take in Dylan's once again frozen body in my peripheral vision and realise what I'm doing. "Oh sorry, I can go into the bedroom or there's a nursing blanket in the baby bag if you want to go grab it I can cover up. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

He moves to sit on the coffee table in front of me, "No sorry it's just seeing you with our son about to feed him." He moves my hair behind my ear. "It's overwhelming, I thought I loved you intensely before but this scene right here is taking my breath away." Art grumbles from the delay so I resume opening my shirt and then unclip the maternity bra. Art latches on in a second. His Father appears even more dazzled by the scene.

After a minute he comes to, "Can I get you anything? A pillow for your arm or something?"

"I would love a glass of water please." He rushes out and brings back a bottle of water from the fridge. He opens it and hands it to me, then takes his place back on the table. After taking a few sips I go to lean forward and place it on the coffee table but he takes it from me and then sets it down. He is watching me and Art with the intensity of a hawk.

"What does it feel like?"

"Not uncomfortable, it was a little painful at first and sometimes he can be a little demanding or distracted." As I'm speaking he starts pushing out his little legs. "He loves to stretch out, reminds me of you that way." I roll my eyes, "why sit on a couch when you can lay down?"

He laughs. Art goes to move his head to see his Daddy but as he is refusing to stop nursing he tries to drag me along in the direction. I quickly guide his head to the job at hand. "Art be gentle with Mummy, and please remember they don't stretch."

Dylan chuckles, but then quickly moves to sit next to me as our son once again attempts to find the sound. Art stops moving his head but now stares at his Dad. "Hey buddy your Mum is right they don't stretch and believe me I'd know, I've spent a lot of time playing with them."

"Dylan!"

He laughs and then runs a finger down the side of his son's face.

She had always been the most desirable woman to me, witty, smart, sexy, beautiful. Her very essence had made me insatiable from the start. A feeling even the second circle of hell couldn't replicate. Lust I had come to realise was a poor man's substitute for the fierce frenzy of unquenchable desire she stirred in me. Looking at her now feeding our child from her body, well even that desire seems dull in comparison to the primal urges running through my system. The ones that are infusing her to me as the mother of my children.

"When you are all better will you be able to have more?" She seemed taken aback by the question, maybe it's too soon to tell her I want her like this always. My mind flashes to a daydream I had twelve months ago imagining my future with either of them. In one I was childless, in the other I had a house full with another on the way. Even my subconscious was trying to tell me that she'd capture my desire forever and only she could do it. The dream was foreshadowing what I felt now. I wanted her in a primitive way. She was supposed to be the mother of my children. I wanted to see her pregnant with my child, see her body change. When she left for College she appeared no different. She didn't wear her bodysuits anymore and had taken to wearing flannel shirts more, but nothing appeared different in her figure. Maybe if I had still been able to feel, and see under her shirt I would have been able to see the rounding of her belly.

"More children, yeah I can, but there is an increased risk of me developing the condition again. I'd need to be monitored more closely." Risk! I didn't like that her health could be compromised. I nearly lost her, both of them this time. We'd have to find the best Doctors, I could hire one around the clock to keep her safe. "Dylan, what's going through your head right now?"

"When is your next checkup? Have you got a doctor here? Maybe we should fly back out to Minnesota and see the one you have there." She lifts our son and after a quick burping places him on her other breast.

"My Doctor has set me up with a colleague of his here. My next appointment is in four days. I'm still being monitored weekly at the moment." What if this doctor wasn't as good, didn't notice something? She needed the best.

"Okay great, if we don't like the new one we can still travel back to Minnesota until we can find one here we like or maybe I'll see if your doctor could fly out weekly." It would be better if he travelled, Art's little ears should not deal with that frequent air pressure.

She took on a calm but serious tone, "Dylan there was a lot of we's in there regarding my health. Of course, any decision with Art we make together but you don't need to be involved in my medical care as well."

Was she crazy? I'd be going to every appointment taking notes. "Of course, I am going to be involved-"

"With Art."

Of course with Art but her as well she was my… maybe she needed me to say it. That was fair. "Bren we have a child together, we are best friends, and most importantly we love each other passionately, intensely. Even before I knew about our miracle I wanted you home, to come back to me, but with Art. Baby we are a family. I know I stuffed up and I'll be forever sorry, and I know, I suspect that the stress I caused you well it could have caused me to lose the both of you forever, but please let's work this out together. We can take it slowly, whatever pace you want." As I had been talking Art had stopped feeding and was now laying on her lap with the dopiest expression on his face. She saw my eyes travel to our son.

"He's milk drunk. Give him a moment to enjoy his full belly and then you can do the honours of burping him. Let's hope you aren't too attached to that shirt." I raise an eyebrow. "He occasionally likes to spit up, usually when he knows I'm wearing something nice. It's his party trick." I pick up his little feet, this little guy can ruin all my clothes if he wants.

She turns serious again, "Dylan you have a lot of new emotions coming at you today, but I want to be clear where I stand from the start. I hope we are going to keep building this friendship, but above all else, we will be co-parents to Art, that's all that I want. Art needs stability, he doesn't need the roller coaster of us." I go to interrupt, tell her it wouldn't be like that but she raises her palm up for me to stop. "You can't promise it won't, and Dylan I'm sorry even if you did I wouldn't believe you I don't trust you." I sit back, it's like she has slapped me.

"I trust you with Art you are going to be an amazing father but I don't trust you with me, too much deceit has happened. I never even suspected that it was her, and apart from an initial concern on the day of the sand castle competition that she convinced me wasn't anything to worry about, I never even thought you had been with anyone that summer. I no longer have blind faith in you and I no longer believe what you say when it comes to us, you have shown you have a great capacity to lie and lie convincingly to me."

Desolation was the only way to describe what was happening inside me as she said those words. As she began to burp our son I tried to run through arguments in my head ways I could convince her I was genuine but each argument to me fell flat. They all required her to take me at my word. A word that she now knew could be untrue. I had poisoned her trust in me with my lust, greed, gluttony, heresy and fraud, I couldn't blame her for it shrivelling up and dying. She got up and moved over to the baby bag lifting it up onto the dining room table. Maybe with time, I can make it grow again. I speak to her back.

"So we live here like roommates raising him together, we can add on or maybe buy something bigger to give him a yard." She turns around and even before she says anything I know what is coming- bile rises and my eyes begin to get glassy.

"No Dylan. Art and I will be living with my parents, you'll have as much access to him as you want. I'll put it in writing if you like." She moves back to me and places a cloth on my shoulder and smiles at me. "Come on, it's time you get to learn the joys of burping your son." She passes him to me and I cling to him more knowing that I won't get all of these moments now. What the fuck have I done!