And this is when the feeling sinks in

I don't wanna miss you like this

Come back, be here, come back, be here

- Come Back… Be Here / Red Era

It was the first day that she was back in her office in since that disastrous Monday and she couldn't deny the shame she'd felt from the reactions she'd received from her co-workers. It was easy to lie to herself, Jonathan, and Michael. She'd thought she'd been doing such a good job of keeping her appearance up. She'd told herself that a little makeup, some styled hair, and the right wardrobe were all she needed to prove that nothing had changed. She'd been surprised when the waists of her suits all were loose from her abdomen, but had dismissed it. Tony's cooking was superior to the tasteless, and bland meals that she and Michael were capable of. It didn't help that given the tense environment that they'd been surviving in over the last week, she hadn't felt much like eating. Weight loss to some degree wasn't all that surprising, but it had been jarring to realize it was enough to remove an inch from her form. She'd finally found something to settle on; deciding on a simple, gray oxford with a pair of black slacks and a belt cinched in to keep them up. She pulled a black sweater over the shirt then headed into the bathroom. The slight shadow beneath her eyes was easily covered by makeup. Color deftly added to her pale cheeks. She added a pink lipstick to her downturned lips and pulled the sides of her hair up with two combs that she secured into her hair.

She supposed there should be some level of embarrassment associated with how long she'd been sitting at her desk in her fancy, executive office staring at the folder in front of her vacantly. She still hadn't called Tony. She'd promised her mother that she would, but every time she picked the phone up, she found herself hesitating. Her stomach would roil as she imagined him telling them about how great their lives were at their new home. She was a woman who prided herself on taking action. Overthinking and fixating weren't uncommon sensations for her, but the crippling self doubt that seemed to be coloring every decision she had made in the last week was new.

After their night apart, Michael had asked her to return to their bedroom and she hated herself for agreeing. The reality was that it as easier to agree to whatever he wanted and avoid the confrontation. Making love with him had become a chore and even though he was still attentive to her needs in bed, she couldn't pretend that she was enjoying it the way she had been when he'd first returned. The idea that one bad night had ruined their second try had haunted her, and yet every time she tried o move past it, she could hear Tony's voice in her head. 'I hope you know what you're doing.' She glanced at the phone on her desk. Maybe-

"Angela?"

She lifted her eyes to her office door and forced a smile onto her face. "Mr. McKenna."

The man pulled his oversized glasses off of his face and stepped into her office, then closed the door behind him. "You got a minute?"

She nodded, her wide eyes following him as he approached her desk. Her racing heartbeat thundered in her ears as she lowered her hands to her lap, her fingers fidgeted in her lap, twisting and rubbing. Her posture went ram-rod straight. The room suddenly felt unbearably hot and her throat felt uncomfortably raw, and scratchy but she didn't dare swallow, not with his eyes laser focused on her as he took a seat on the corner of her desk.

"Angela," her cleared his throat for what felt like the hundredth time, "This isn't easy for me."

She blinked at him, watching him struggle with his words, as her palms grew increasingly sweatier. A tense, pregnant silence filled the room before she forced herself to speak in a voice that was almost too soft to hear. "Are… Are you firing me?"

His eyes snapped up to meet hers and his brow furrowed. "What? No."

Her whole body sagged against the chair as she pressed her hand to her chest and closed her eyes. Her palm dug into her sternum as she forced herself to regulate her breathing while he muttered a string of apologies.

"It's been noticed that you don't look like yourself. There's been some concern and… I think you should take the rest of the day off."

"Excuse me?"

The man paused. He twisted the watch on his wrist, then tugged his vest more firmly into place on his body. "I'm not asking, Angela."

It hadn't taken her long to pack up her briefcase and her files and by the time she'd slipped out of her office to head home, much of the floor was out to lunch, giving her the grace to leave without observation from the watchful eyes of the gossip chain at Wallace and McQuade. She'd arrived home an hour later and once again found herself staring at the phone, only this time it was on the table behind the sofa. Mona had bustled in not long later with her school books and Jonathan at her side. "Well, well. Look who's home early."

"MOM!"

Angela caught her son as he lunged for her, giving her a tight hug as she lifted him from the floor for a moment then set him back down. "Hello, sweetheart."

As Jonathan rambled on about the new science project he'd have to complete, she combed her fingers through his hair and felt the heaviness that she'd been carrying around in her chest abate. Regardless of the state of er marriage with Michael, the best thing that had ever come from it was this little boy and the unconditional love he gave. She directed him up to his room to start his homework and looked at her mother.

Mona's eyes looked her up and down and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Still haven't call him I see."

"Mother…" Angela turned and headed for the kitchen, knowing her mother well enough to know that she'd be following whether she wanted her to or not. Mona slapped the door to the kitchen open a moment later as Angela was finishing tying the apron around her waist. "It's not that I don't want to. I just… I can't. I go to pick up the phone and then I lose my nerve."

"Why for god's sakes?"

Angela set the bowls on the count and braced her hands on the edge of the linoleum in silence as she hung her head.

"Not Michael." Mona stepped closer and rested her hand on Angela's rounded back. "Did he do something to you?"

"No. No. Nothing like that. I… I can't stop thinking that he's so much happier over there. I can't ask him to give all that up to come back to work here."

"So don't hire him back. Ask him back as a man."

"MOTHER!"

Mona chuckled and raised her eyebrows. "Oh, Angela. Don't be so surprised. You used to be able to cut the sexual tension around here with a knife. Dump the snake and bring back the hunk."

Angela rolled her eyes and moved away from her mother. Once again, finding that avoidance was the key to dealing with the situation. "I've got to start dinner. Can you tear the lettuce for the salad while I make the casserole?"

You've been good, busier than ever

We small talk, work and the weather

Your guard is up and I know why

Because the last time you saw me

Is still burned in the back of your mind

- Back to December / Speak Now Era

I wonder if he knows how much that I miss him

I hang on every word you say, yay

And you smile and say, "How are you?"

And I'll say, "Just fine"

- Superman / Speak Now Era

Standing at the door, staring at the cerulean blue paint, he had a momentary flashback. The nerves he'd felt that first day in September were back in full force, and he rubbed at the back of his neck for a brief moment as the memory of Angela opening the door in her pink robe and towel flashed before his eyes. They'd come a long way in half a year and then it had all just stopped because Michael had returned. He'd been relieved that Michael's car wasn't in the driveway. It appeared that he'd taken over the station wagon, while Angela's red Jaguar had continued to be her favored vehicle. It had been nice to see Mona's car parked in the driveway though. Coming back for a visit wouldn't have been the same if he and Sam hadn't been able to see her too. He nodded to Sam to ring the doorbell and barely a minute had passed before the door opened.

The reunion with Mona had been everything he'd hoped it would be for Samantha. Eager kisses had been exchanged before Mona had called out for her grandson. He nudged Mona with his elbow as the kids awkwardly reunited in their own way before they had run off upstairs to look at his new baseball cards. "He's been talking about her all week long."

"Yeah? Has he- has he mentioned me?" For a moment he wondered if the one that was really missed around here was his daughter. Jonathan hadn't even given him a second glance. Mona poked his cheek as he pouted, the two teasing each other in their own playful shorthand. Neither saw the door to the kitchen swing open, but the sound of Angela's gasp was enough to garner their attention.

"Wha-"

Tony turned to look at her. There was no mistaking her surprise at seeing him standing there, with her mouth open in wonder and her brown eyes as wide as he'd ever seen them. His mouth opened into a wide, unrestrained smile. "Angela!"

Angela's heart stood still, then she felt a wild flare of joy fill her chest. It felt like all the tension had left her body. She felt weightless and dizzy as she looked at him standing there in the living room dressed all in white. She couldn't stop herself from taking off, mirroring him as they began to rush to the other. "Tony!" They both managed to catch themselves before they collided and she found herself bracing her hand on the sofa table as she openly looked him over and watched him tuck his hands into his pockets. There was no way she could deny that he looked great. She had to admit to herself that she had been right to not call him. She had no business hoping he'd leave this level of comfort to come back to them.

Seeing her was a relief in so many ways for him, but for all the warmth that was flooding his body at the sight of her, he couldn't help but notice that she wasn't the woman that she'd been when he left. Mona's pointed stare and snarky comment about Angela's bliss hadn't gone over his head. He'd watched her walk out as Angela looked away from him with that forced grin on her face. He didn't know what was going on and although he wanted to ask, he knew it was no longer his place. He wasn't here as anything more than a casual friend who had paid a visit to see if she and her son would want to come out to play tennis with him and his daughter.

"I'd love to, but I've got a casserole in the oven." She came around the sofa to where he was standing, smiling the first real smiles she had in almost a week, and taking in a deep, cleansing breath, as she added, "And I'm making mashed potatoes. I'm boiling them first." The tightness she'd been feeling in her back and shoulders eased as she blushed at his teasing Betty Crocker comment. She knew she was far from being deserving of that title but even a teasing comment like that had made her feel lighter. Even her embarrassment over her lack of cooking skills didn't have her feeling like she needed to apologize.

"So, um, how's work?" He clasped his hands in front of himself. She'd mentioned more than once that Michal didn't like her working, but he'd been hopeful that with them trying their marriage again that things had changed. Now that they were both working from the city, that had to mean that they had come to an understanding, didn't it?

"Don't ask." He removed his hat as she threw her head back then settled onto the center cushion of the sofa. She suddenly found the red dish towel in her hand fascinating as she elaborated on the problems with the Scrubbo campaign that had been plaguing her every thought for almost two weeks now. Even without sharing a lot of details about the struggles they'd been facing with the client and Jim's lackluster ideas, it still helped to have someone listening. Michael barely asked how her day was anymore. The illusion of bliss that she'd wanted desperately to paint for him was splintering around the edges as she looked up into Tony's honest, open eyes.

"Hey look, don't worry about it, Angela. You'll come up with something. You always do."

She felt a tingle in her chest and a flutter in her stomach as she held his eyes with hers. She'd forgotten what it felt like to have someone believe in her. His words weren't coming from a place of expectation for her to fall into his bed at the end of the day. She took a shallow breath and gave him a nervous smile. "Well, thank you. Thank you for the encouragement, Tony. It's nice to talk to somebody who cares."

"What? Michael cares!"As much as he hated to admit it, Tony felt like he needed to defend the man. After all, she'd chosen him.

"Oh yeah, Michael cares…" she paused briefly before adding, "About me. It's my career he doesn't give a damn about." She wasn't so sure about him caring about her anymore either, but she didn't need or want Tony to worry about that aspect of her marriage. It wasn't his responsibility. She looked away, dropping her eyes back to the red fabric in her hands. "Just… I…. I don't think he likes it when I bring my work home.

"Yeah? Well, what's his problem? I mean, it's not like you work at the morgue."

She laughed freely at his crack and had to admit that it felt good to allow herself to feel that silly, contentedness that came from being around him. "Oh, Tony. It's just I think he'd rather I stay home. You know, quit my job, and maybe stay here and cook and clean, and you know, a lot of people do that."

"Hey, look, I'm just the ex-housekeeper here but I think you're perfect just the way you are."

"Perfect?" Her cheeks flushed as she tilted her head and her voice dropped to a soft, low timbre. It was impossible to not smile at a compliment like that, especially after spending the last week berating herself at every turn for not doing something right or to Michael's liking. A compliment like that was like water for a man dying of thirst. It filled her up and made her feel warm and appreciated. It was euphoric and wonderful.

"Well, yeah, you know, perfect. I mean, all you need now is riding stables a swimming pooI, a place for my polo pony…"

She rolled her eyes as he went on an on, clearly poking fun at her. She shook her head as she headed back into the kitchen, with him at her side, feeling like no time had passed and things were back to the way they had been. "Can I get you coffee? Tea?"

"Nah. I'll just grab myself some water. You still-"

"I haven't changed anything." She interrupted his question softly as she slipped her hands into her back pockets. She watched him move around the kitchen with ease and leaned against the counter. A week ago, before he'd moved out to start a new life with this new job, she'd been struck with the realization that she'd been developing feelings for him and as much as she tried to push those feelings away, she'd found herself comparing Michael to him repeatedly and every time, her husband had fallen short.

Things had changed the minute they had crossed the threshold into the kitchen. This room had seen them share intimate conversations, private moments that they had treasured and that had allowed them to find comfort in being vulnerable with each other. As he turned a chair backwards and took a seat at the table, she took a deep breath. There were so many things she wanted to say but none of them seemed adequate in the moment. Tony's eyes never wavered, watching her as she visibly swallowed and resumed her anxious picking at the red terrycloth.

"Aye, Angela..." He waited until her eyes lifted to meet his. "How are things? Really?"

It felt wrong to lie to him here, in this place that was like a confessional for all their deepest, darkest secrets. She was thankful the dish towel in her hands was fabric, otherwise she would've shredded it between her fingers with the frantic way she was rending it. She licked her lips and set the dish cloth to the side as she shook her head. "It's…" She gave a half-hearted shrug then muttered softly. "It's definitely not bliss."

The self deprecating joke to lighten the mood fell flat and only served to escalate the hum of quiet tension between them. Tony stood from the chair and slowly moved toward her, his hand tentatively brushing her elbow. His touch on her covered skin conveyed a sensation of safety and comfort. She couldn't recall the last time she'd been touched so tenderly and it made her chest grow tight and ache. How had she allowed herself to settle with her growing unhappiness for so long? She leaned into Tony as he wrapped his arms around her and held her for a long moment. Her forehead rested against the side of his neck as she pressed her hands against his back and inhaled his scent deeply. Her heart rate began to slow into a steady beat as they stood there, reveling in their silent connection. She had no idea where the sudden urge to lift her face and press her lips to his came from, but it was enough to make her pull her head back and look up at him.

He was so close. It wouldn't take much to lean in, to close the distance and seal her lips over his. Her eyes darted down to his lips then back up. She slid her hands to his sides as she shifted against him. "Tony…" A loud boom filled the kitchen as she jumped and turned to face the oven. Her heart felt like it was lodged in her throat as she tried to calm her breathing and watched as Tony opened the stove. Her chicken casserole was all over the inside of the stove and the glass door, with the side of the glass Pyrex dish broken and shattered. "Oh my God."

Tony was covering his mouth with his free hand as he closed the oven door. His shaking shoulders and squinted eyes were all the evidences needed to know that he was quietly laughing at her. "Don't worry about it, Angela. It happens to lots of people."

She dropped her forehead into her hands. "I have a master's degree. This shouldn't be that hard!" She covered her face and muffled a soft scream in her palms. "Now I have to figure out something else to make for Michael and I still want to change and take a shower and…"

"Aye oh, oh aye. Let's do this huh? You go shower, clean yourself up, clear your head. I'll take Mona and Jonathan and Sam out for pizza. You'll figure something else out when you come back down. I mean, look, your potatoes are still boiling." He grabbed a fork and stabbed one, the vegetable was soft enough that the fork sliced through. "These are all done. So at least you've got part of dinner handled." She took a steadying breath as she blinked against the glassiness in her eyes. "Hey, no tears. It's an easy clean up. Oven cleans itself, remember?"

She didn't really care about the casserole or the cleaning up that she'd have to do. It was how he handled things, handled her, that was driving her to well up with unshed tears. "Right, right. How could I forget?" She rolled her lips into her mouth, then nodded. "Okay. You're right. I'll just figure it out when I come back down." She rubbed her palms on the apron nervously, almost as if she was trying to dry them. "Are you sure you can take mother and Jonathan out?"

"Aye. It'll be just like old times. It's my pleasure."

She supposed the exploding dinner was a sign from fate, warning her off kissing him, but she couldn't stop herself from wondering what it would've felt like. Instead, she nodded and muttered her thanks to him quietly before she excused herself from the kitchen. He waited until she was gone and then drained and mashed the potatoes for her and turned the oven off. He'd have to bring Mona and Jonathan back later and made a mental note to check on the oven and maybe help her out by cleaning it up for her if he could. Mrs. R wouldn't miss him that much anyway.

I'm the one who makes you laugh

When you know you're 'bout to cry

- You Belong With Me / Fearless Era

She'd settled in her study to give Michael time to pack his gear and his clothing so he could leave. It hadn't taken long and she found herself amused at the idea that it took longer for him to unpack and move in than it was for him to leave. She wondered if that was some great cosmic commentary about how wrong of a decision this had been from the beginning. Tony, Mona, and the kids still weren't back and she was relieved that they hadn't bumped into each other. Michael and Tony had never come to be on agreeable terms and she expected they never would. They were two very different men, and now, with signed divorce papers tucked safely away in her desk, she had to wonder what that would mean for her and Tony moving forward.

She had meant it when she'd told Michael she didn't want them to continue trying to make something that was broken work. She'd always feared being resented by her spouse. She'd spoken with her therapist about it once when Jonathan was still a toddler being babysat by Mona so she and Michael could continue working and Mona had made an off the cuff remark about Angela getting to do all the things that she'd wanted to and how it wasn't fair. She'd always known her mother blamed getting pregnant with her and marrying her father for the reasons that she'd missed out on so much of her youth, but she'd never heard her out right state her resentment so vocally. It had been enough for Angela to hire a live-in housekeeper and nanny for the next few years of Jonathan's life, until he'd started school. The idea that the person she loved and wanted to spend her life with would feel the same way as her mother was devastating to her. She'd made it a mission from that point forward that if the person she was dating, engaged to, married to started to feel any sense of resentment or pressure to be or do something that they hated, that she'd let things end-regardless of how painful it may be.

Turned out that even though she loved Michael, she was no longer in love with him, and that had been the root of the resentment on her end. She wanted to make it work because it was better for everyone else, but what she wanted and needed wasn't the tall filmmaker with wanderlust in his heart. She smiled as he peeked his head into her study. "I'm uh… all set." She nodded and stood from behind her desk, and walked him to the front door.

"I meant what I said, Michael. I'm awfully glad we tried again."

He nodded. "Yeah, me too. Uh… can we tell Jonathan tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is good. I don't know what time Mother is planning on coming back." She glanced at the watch on her wrist. 7:00 pm, still too early to even bother being worried. Jonathan's bedtime wasn't for another 2 hours. She sighed as Michael hugged her, then kissed his cheek. "Call me tomorrow? We'll figure out a time?"

She watched him walk to his car and waved as he backed down the driveway and drove away in the station wagon. She shut the door and leaned her back against it, then headed to the small dining table and began to gather plates and dishes to clean up. It wasn't much later that the front door opened and Mona stepped in with a drowsy Jonathan at her side. "Angela!"

Angela came jogging down from upstairs, her black dress from dinner back in her closet and her nightgown and robe on in its place. "Mother! It's 9:30! Where have you been?"

"Tony took us for pizza, and a movie, and ice cream." Jonathan grinned sleepily up at her. "It was great!"

Angela smiled and nodded. "Remind me to thank him. Go upstairs and change and get into bed. I'll be up to tuck you in." Jonathan climbed the stairs slowly and Angela waited until she heard the door shut before she looked at her mother and raised her eyebrows. "Dinner, movie, and dessert?"

"Well…" Mona shrugged. A sly grin spread across her lips. "I wanted to spend a little more time with Tony and the kids didn't complain." She folded her fingers together as she walked to the arm of the sofa and leaned her backside against it, while giving her daughter a pointed look. "I see Michael's car is gone."

Angela wet her lips and took a deep breath. "We talked over dinner." She tucked her hands into her rob pockets, hiding her fingers from her mother as she picked at the interior seam. "He's going to take a job in Zimbabwe and he signed the divorce papers."

"He's gone?" Mona leaned forward just a fraction, her voice low and quiet.

"Yes, Mother. He's gone." Angela's tone was clear and the statement was final.

"YIPPEE!" Mona thrust her chest up and out as her arms shot up into a 'V'. "I'd sing 'Ding Dong the Witch is Dead' but I don't want to alarm my grandson. When are you going to tell him?"

Angela rolled her eyes at her mother's antics. "Tomorrow. Michael is going to call so he can make sure Jonathan is home. We want to tell him together."

"And Tony?"

Angela felt her body heat rise as she looked at her mother then at the door. "What about Tony?"

"When are you going to ask him back?"

Angela sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I…" She fumbled for her words "I don't know that I can ask him back. Or if I want to."

But you were always there when I needed

You would always see me clearly

And you were never looking for a thank you

I'm saying one for you…

- For You (4 U) / Unreleased