The Book Of Me & You

by SLobsessedfan2

*ACTIVE-IN-PROGRESS* Ricky & Amy have just brought Emma home. Now, they must deal with the overwhelming task of 2 small children added to school & work. But when an opportunity arises & causes them to really think about where exactly their future stands, will their marriage be able to withstand it? Or will it collapse under the weight? Join Ramy on their newest & craziest ride yet!

28. Being Torn In Two Never Comes Out Clean

Hello, all you lovely readers! Today is a monumental day! Today marks exactly 10 years since Secret Life ended! That's a decade since Amy and Ricky broke up, and she moved to New York! That's a whole 10 years I've been angry at Brenda Hampton! Man, does time fly!

I decided that since today is the anniversary of my Ramy heart getting stomped on, I would update! Enjoy!

---

"Why me?" She whispered to her shoes, head bent down to avoid his eyes.

His brow furrowed in confusion, "what?"

Taking in a deep breath, Amy lifted her head and met his eyes, her voice weak and hoarse as she questioned him, "Why did you choose me, Ricky? Out of all the other girls at that band camp... Why me?"

Ricky's eyes were glassy, a tear rolling down his cheek.

---

Tiptoeing over all the disarray of the small apartment, she was quiet, hands clasped together tightly against her lips to catch the tears sliding down her cheeks.

The blue digits on the clock above the stove read 3:23. She couldn't sleep, too conflicted about everything, and everyone, to be at peace.

It was quiet. Too quiet. Much too quiet for their lives. No babies crying, or things banging together, or some other kind of loud noises.

Silence and quiet gave her anxiety. It was what her parents did when she was little before the chaos started; before the fights, and the yelling, and her dad sleeping on the couch while her mom slammed their bedroom door and she heard her cry behind it. She once heard her mother say to her dad that she felt trapped by him and by a life she got thrust into. It never really resonated with her... until now.

Now it made perfect sense why her mother pushed her so hard to go to Hudson... she didn't want her to end up like her - miserable and unhappy.

Before she even registered what she was doing, she'd made it into their children's shared bedroom.

Stopping in the middle of the room, Amy took a shaky breath coupled with a small hiccup, trying to bury the urge to scoop them both up into her arms and take in their calming presence in hopes that it would make her decision easier. But she knew that waking them wasn't wise. If she cradled them, she'd never be able to let them go, and all it would do is wake them and upset them that she would soon be gone again. And as angry and hurt as she was, she couldn't do that to him.

So she stood there instead, drawing, in short, exhales to calm herself. Seeing them nestled in their beds, asleep to the harsh realities of life... was getting to be too much. They were so peaceful; so innocent; deep in slumber and oblivious to the storm raging behind their shared four walls.

The storm their parents were swept up in.

She stood there for several more minutes, just watching them. Taking in as much of the calm as she could and etching the moment into her mind. She needed to remember that moment forever.

A small whine drew her attention back, zeroing in with a held breath that the once snoozing baby wouldn't see her and wake. Thankfully, Emma just rose her head for a second before she settled again and fell back to sleep.

Biting her thumbnail, Amy slowly started to take steps backward, keeping her eyes locked on them as she fought herself from crumbling to the floor. The pain in her chest was getting sharper as she shut the door softly and braced against the wall. Sobbing silently to herself, her mind began to plague her; showcasing flashes of their happy moments together across every inch of that small apartment.

It took a couple of minutes of bobbing and waving through the apartment before they managed to catch her in the kitchen next to the sink. John gripped onto her shirt smearing chocolate all over it as Ricky smeared some on her face. She gasped, and grabbed some off her face, throwing it at him, appalled he actually did what he did. "I can't believe you did that!"

He smirked, tossing their son into the air as he continued to cackle, little bits of cake falling to the floor. "I think someone wants to give their mama a hug, huh buddy?"

John squinted, showing his four teeth in a crooked grin, hands outstretched as he gurgled in a high pitch, "Mamama!"

Shaking her head, she gently scooted him back while scrunching her nose playfully, not wanting to get covered in all the remnants of his saliva-drenched desert.

"Aww, come on, mama! John wants a big hug!" He teased, inching him closer and closer until finally she relented and took him, giving him a prime opportunity to swipe some more cake from the counter and hurl it at her, hitting her right in the forehead.

Letting it hit the ground, her brow furrowed, lips pursing at his loud chuckles. He was bent over, clutching his sides, so she took that time to gently place him on the floor, scooped up the mess, and slammed it on his head, making sure to smear it deep into his dark curls.

He looked up, but she didn't expect what he did next. Instead of getting annoyed, he just started laughing again, making her laugh too before he tackled her side and it became an all-out food fight: cake and icing flying everywhere; dodging and weaving until the entire small kitchen - as well as them - were a sticky mess. A laughing, happy, sticky mess. Even John giggled as he crawled around the space and licked his hands repeatedly watching his parents having fun together.

Blink

Putting his left hand out to her, "Hi." He glanced down at hers quickly.

"Hi," she smiled back, gazing into his eyes from across the table.

He met her gaze, his voice soft, "I'm happy to have you home."

"And I'm happy to be home." She stated back, their eyes locked on each other's as they took in the moment.

John grunted, looking at his parent's hands clasped on the table. This was new to him too. She brushed her thumb across his hand as he made a face at them, getting a small smirk before they put their eyes back on each other.

Blink

He pulled away, touching her shoulder, gazing at her as he whispered, "... I love you, Amy..."

"Really?" She answered back, cutting her eyes across his face quickly before glancing down, "Or are you just relieved that I changed my mind, you're off the hook?"

His lips were slightly parted, the right corner lifting, his eyes never leaving hers. "No. Really. I love you."

He said it with so much confidence she couldn't help the smile that spanned her face. He'd finally said the words she'd been unknowingly waiting for since that night at Bandcamp. It was a new start for them; a new beginning to building their lives together. She had proof; proof to everyone that she wasn't wasting her time on him. And that, well that made her heart swell with genuine happiness. "I love you too, Ricky."

Blink

"We're here!" Her cheery voice announced from the other side of the door.

The lock clicked once before it opened to reveal him standing there with a huge grin on his face, "Hey you two!"

She smiled widely back, before setting her bag on the ground and jumping into his arms, "I love you!" Wrapping her legs around his and kissing his lips a few times before shifting to his jaw.

He smirked, "Love you too!" Grasping her tighter, and stifling the moan in his throat when her breath tickled his ear. The little eyes peering up at them, made him loosen his grip and let out a little cough of embarrassment, "Uh - Ames..." eyes cutting to the boy with a smirk that matched his. She bit her lip, blushing when he put her back on her feet, letting out a little chuckle at him. "Did Mommy make you carry her bags?" He asked, eyes squinting in amusement at him dragging two large black duffle bags - that were bigger than he was - by their handles.

She playfully slapped his arm, "He wanted to help Mommy, right John? You wanted to be a big boy?" Dropping the handles, he nodded, wrinkling his nose and outstretching his arms for his dad.

He smiled at them, lifting him into his arms with ease, jostling him, "Welcome home, buddy!"

Taking one of the duffels and sitting it on the chair, she joined them a second later, running her palm along the back of his head, "Yeh, we're going to be living at daddy's now. Isn't that great?" He was still a little confused, she could tell by his little eyebrow crease - the one that also matched his to the tee. Grazing her nails across the buzzed hair by his ears, she whispered lovingly, "We'll be a family..."

He stared down at them, genuine happiness and love in his eyes, "Yeah... One big happy family..." Leaning forward a little to catch her lips for a quick peck.

Blink

"My necks a little stiff, from holding my neck back when you were shampooing my hair. Mind giving me a massage?" He asked, leaning on his side

Touching his shoulder, she pursed her lips, "Um. Okay. Sure." Rising up to kneel behind him as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. Rolling her eyes a little, she put her hands on his shoulders and gently started to apply pressure.

"Am I doing it right?" She asked after a couple of minutes, fingers started to cramp from digging into the same tense muscles.

He smirked, "Oh - oh yeah-" tilting his head back a little, "Could you just - right there - yeah."

A moan passed his lips, making her giggle under her breath, "could you please stop making sex sounds while I'm pushing on your neck?" She grimaced, adding more pressure.

"Don't you mean your sex sounds?" He teased, closing his eyes to imitate and mock her, "Oohhh - mmm -" adding in his own spin along with the motions, "Rickyyy"

"Stop it!" She blushed, embarrassed, grabbing at his side, under his ribs, raising a brow to his laughter, "You better watch yourself, Underwood."

"Or what, Juergens?" He challenged her. She smirked, quickly jabbing that spot under his ribs again - it was his most ticklish spot beside his earlobes.

Reflexively, he squirmed and clicked his tongue as she did it again. Her little chuckles were cute, but he hated being tickled, regardless of how adorable she was when she did it. "Oh, really now?" His brow rose, moving his hands behind his back to catch hers before she had the chance to strike his other side. Turning slowly to face her, her face red with amusement, as she struggled against her pinned wrists, he bit his lip, removing one of his hands and trailing it along her arm.

She jerked at his fingers moving up slowly before he let go of her other wrist and struck: grabbing her sides, and digging his fingertips in. "Okay - ok - I -", she tried to relent, squealing and snorting in hysterics, attempting to pry his hands away with no luck. He was faster and stronger than she was, and the more she squirmed to get away, the more he dug in.

Blink

"Amy!" He yelled out, holding the box of unused condoms in his hands. She came down the hallway, nervously, biting her nails with tears in her eyes. He looked worried, holding up the box as he asked, "You're not..."

Removing her hand from her mouth, she crossed her arms and shakily answered, "... I'm late..."

His eyes got wide, looking at the tears starting to gather in hers. This couldn't be happening. He nodded slowly, "How -" Swallowing a little roughly, "How many days?"

"Four..." She was crying now, struggling against the air choking her as she inhaled and exhaled forcefully.

Putting the box of down on the table, he quickly went into the kitchen and turned on the faucet, returning with a glass, "Here." He instructed, putting the glass of water into her hand, and rubbing her back as she tried to drink it through her sobs. She crashed into his side, gripping his shirt collar. "I - we - it's going to be okay, Amy..."

"No, no it's not!" She rebuttalled, "I can't have another baby in high school, Ricky!"

He sighed, "I know..." kissing her brown locks reassuringly. "I'll go get a test... and if you are -" He swallowed, not wanting to say the word out loud, "Then we'll deal with it - together... okay?" She sniffled a couple of times before letting go of his shirt and taking a step back, nodding slowly as he gathered his keys, giving her one more peck on the forehead before opening the door and disappearing behind it.

When the door closed, she was unable to hold back the deep sob in her throat. How could she have been so stupid? How could they have been so careless? They already had one child, and while they loved him more than anything, it was hard enough taking care of him, living in that small apartment, on a very limited income. Another child would put so much strain on them, and their already fragile situation. Not to mention all the backlash another teenage pregnancy would bring to their families.

Gathering herself, she went into the bathroom to get ready for bed, staring in the mirror - the scared face of the 15-year-old, petrified as she held the then unopened pregnancy test in her hands, stared back tearfully. She had just turned 18. They had just gotten engaged. John wasn't even three yet. Another child couldn't be in the cards for them. Not right now.

But if she was... what then? Would he stay? Still, want to be with her?

Leaning against the wall, she held her hand over her mouth, muffling the hiccupping sobs so he wouldn't hear and get scared. The last thing she wanted was to explain to John why Mommy was crying - he was so inquisitive all the time, constantly needing to know why everything happened. How do you explain another potential unplanned teenage pregnancy to a toddler? You don't. Not unless it turns out to be true, and then they would set him down and figure out how to tell him. But for now, it was better he stayed oblivious.

Feeling a small jab of pain in her abdomen, she winced and sat down on the toilet, surprise, and relief washing over her as she saw the evidence she needed to see. She got her period. She wasn't pregnant!

Finishing up, and washing her hands, she couldn't stop the tears of joy from spilling down her cheeks. Chanting out a string of "thank you's" under her breath before dialing his number to share the good news. He didn't answer, so she left a voicemail and exited the bathroom, seeing the unopened box of condoms sitting on the bookshelf ledge, and scoffing at them.

Blink

"Are we going to be okay?" she asked quietly

"We'll be okay," he reassured her softly, kissing her hair. "The four of us will be just fine."

Amy pulled his hand toward her, wrapping it around her waist to lay his hand on top of hers, both feeling the almost invisible bump that was her stomach.

Blink

The lazy mornings, he let their son snuggle in bed with them

Blink

The ways he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her every chance he got

Blink

"Fa-awster, Daddy!" He cackled, kicking his legs outward as he gripped the back of his shirt, "Go, fa-awster!"

Planting his palms flat against the hardwood, Ricky stopped crawling, sighing, "I can't go too fast, buddy, Emma can't hold on."

John's 6-month-old baby sister, Emma, grasped his arm, being assisted by Amy propping her to sit up on their dad's back, to join in the fun, "Mommy jus hwo-den her!"

Unable to see behind him to confirm his wife did indeed have their youngest child in her sights, Ricky started going very slowly, "Okay, hold on!" Picking up speed at the sounds of their combined giggles and Emma's rather aggressive squeal-shrieking to horsey rides he'd become accustomed to giving them. It was adorable how delighted they all were just sitting on his back as he crawled around; how they smiled and laughed like it was the greatest thing in the world.

Amy blinked, the tears falling from her lashes as the sounds of their children's laughter in her ears were just as quickly replaced by slamming doors and angry shouts; the happy snippets turning to sadness as the invisible flames danced around the apartment.

"It's a risk to both of you, Amy; you and the baby."

"It's a life, Ricky!" she screamed, breaking away from his hand. "It's a piece of you and a piece of me, it's our child!" she paused a moment to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. "…And if by some chance something does and goes wrong and you do… lose me, you're going to be ok. You could raise this baby on your own …"

"And how am I supposed to feel about the child that took you away from me?" he hissed "From us - from me and John. Huh, how?"

Blink

"I am not your daughter." She huffed, "You are not my parent. You can't tell me what to do!"

"You're right, I'm not your parent…" He agreed, nodding slightly. "But I am your husband and the father of our children. And you are carrying my baby -"

"You mean the baby you didn't want!" Amy hissed

"It's not that I didn't want it -" Ricky defended, staring at her with so much hatred for bringing up the one thing they agreed to be forgotten and never spoken of.

"You wanted me to get an abortion, Ricky!"

"To keep you safe! But I backed off, remember? You -" He pointed at her angrily. "You're the one who assured me that you could handle this. You promised you'd stick to the strict bedrest if I agreed to keep the baby. Now look -" Pausing, "You may have just endangered you both by being selfish!" He raved, trying to fight the tears threatening to gather in his eyes.

Amy scooted further off the edge of the mattress; her eyes cold as she stared at him in disbelief. "Maybe I wouldn't have to be selfish if you stopped treating me like a child!"

"Then stop acting like one!" Ricky barked, raising his another octave. John covered his ears tighter, fear creeping onto his innocent face.

Blink

"Maybe you're not doing it right!" He hollered, trying to be heard over their newest, screeching addition, from the kitchen. Situating their ornery toddler in his chair and handing him a purple sippy cup.

Appalled, Amy rolled her eyes and scoffed, adjusting the restless newborn against her chest, "I know how to breastfeed, Ricky! She might not be hungry -"

Ricky scoffed back, "Why else would she be screaming for hours if she wasn't, Amy? Try the bottle again."

Putting her sore left breast back into her bra, she sighed under her breath and brought Emma to her shoulder, patting her back gently, "Baby's cry for all kinds of reasons, she's probably just freaked out by all of this -" gesturing with her hand to the disarray of their apartment, "If you'd lower your voice and just leave it be, she might actually drift off to sleep!" She huffed, starting to slowly rock them back and forth against the sofa cushion, as she whispered into her tiny ear to soothe her.

Blink

"John, can you help Mommy clean up your toys?" She asked, grasping firmer to the snoozing baby lying in her left arm as she tried to gather a few things from the floor.

Brow furrowed while busy on the other side of the room in a battle between a dinosaur and several Army men, "No!" John responded quickly, not even looking up from his game. He was still mad earlier when she'd fallen asleep during their time together.

Amy sighed partially out of guilt for making her son upset, but also a little annoyed that she couldn't get one minute to herself without some kind of blowback or comment from the men in her life. Realizing she was going to get nothing accomplished without the use of both her arms, she gently placed the baby into the bassinet, half expecting the fussy, irritable cry that started literal seconds later.

"Seriously?" He emerged from the bedroom, shaking his head with annoyance, "I'm trying to take a nap!"

She bit her tongue, pushing the snappy response she wanted to give him down. Ricky was really starting to get on her nerves with his attitude: like Amy should be happy he was doing the bare minimum when it came to taking care of the baby. Granted, he did keep his promise to take over last night, but it was short-lived as Emma still refused to drink from the bottle, so she was up with him, feeding her. So what if she took a little nap? She was still healing from giving birth. The least he could do is change a diaper or stay awake with her without complaint. "So sorry we disturbed you." Picking up their now screeching daughter, she huffed under her breath, "Feel free to sleep - it's not like I need you or anything! "

Scoffing at her, "Really? Pushing his fingers through his messy hair, "Amy I had them when my parents were here so you could take a nap -" Ricky paused, stuffing the aggravation down as he saw the complete mess of the apartment: there were toys, and laundry everywhere, coupled with discarded unused diapers, and a bottle of what looked like breastmilk spilled over the coffee table, dripping onto the floor. "This place is a mess!"

Her eyes became wild, face contorting as she watched the disgusted look on his, as he looked around the room, "I kinda just had a baby, and our son doesn't know how to deal with it - sorry the house is a little too messy for your perfect standards!" She growled, shoving their daughter into his arms, her lip starting to wobble just the tiniest bit, "Sorry I'm such a shitty mom and can't do anything because our baby does nothing but cry!" Shaking her head, the tears became visible as she stomped away and down the hall, slamming the bedroom door.

Blink

It was silent for a brief second, her eyes shifting to the floor, "It's not a big deal."

"Like hell, it isn't! Why didn't you tell me about this?" Ricky spat, roughly tossing the letter onto the red comforter of their bed, eyes glazed in anger

"Because I didn't think I needed to!" She shot back, raking her fingers through her hair to put it into a ponytail

"You get an acceptance letter to a college 3,000 miles away, and you don't think that's worth a mention?" His nostrils flared as he tried to keep his composure, gripping that envelope so tightly in his fingers, they started to ache.

Blink

"There isn't much to talk about, is there?" Amy replied, lifting the red comforter up just enough to slide in under it. His back was to her, but he could tell she was still upset by her movements. "I don't trust Clementine, and obviously you don't care how I feel, so what else is there to say?"

Sighing, he turned to look at her, her back was to him, "I do care. You know I care, Amy... Nothing happened other than I made the mistake of getting something to eat with her in my car, and her sweater dropped after she got out."

She rolled over, her face contorting in disgust, "And when do you think she was planning on getting it back? When she conveniently asked for another ride?"

Shaking his head and closing his eyes, he stood up, rubbing away the tension in the back of his neck with his left hand. "I don't want to do this with you because obviously, nothing I say is going to get through to you - so why even try?" Rustling the covers angrily, she was about to respond when the baby monitor on his nightstand let out a loud cry. Without hesitation, he grabbed it and stalked down the hallway, closing the door behind him.

Blink

Moving the fussy infant from his left arm to his right, Ricky released a long exhale through his nose, as Emma slammed her tiny palm against his chest, "Where did you lose my mother's wedding band?"

"What?"

"You're not wearing your wedding band or your engagement ring,"

"I - I must have set them down somewhere when I was washing my hands or something - I'll find them"

"You better! That is my mother's wedding band - they mean a lot to her even if they mean nothing to you!" His tone was icy, the words ripping through the air, as their daughter became startled and started to cry

At a loss for words, Amy stared down at her naked hand, "They do mean something to me..." eyes glassy as she looked at Ricky's cold ones, "Why didn't you tell me last night that you didn't see them so I could -"

"So you could have what?"

"So I could have retraced my steps to see where they might have fallen off instead of getting upset about it now?"

"It's not my job to keep track of your stuff, Amy - why did you take them off anyway? Go out and flirt with someone, and you didn't want them to know you were married and had a family?" He spat, his words like venom as he thrust their youngest child at her

Taking the baby covered in her own saliva, Amy scoffed, squinting her eyes in disbelief, "You're ridiculous!"

"Am I? Because you have no problems assuming the worst in me over that stupid sweater" Grabbing his wallet off the bookshelf, stuffing it in his back pocket aggressively, shoulders slouching, "You're always so paranoid about me sneaking around and sleeping around - excuse me if the thought of the possibility that maybe you're projecting onto me hasn't crossed my mind especially since you lost your rings!" He quickly grabbed the doorknob and yanked it open, "I've gotta go, "not even ushering a goodbye as he slammed it shut behind him,

Blink

It's not selfish, to be honest, and state your unhappiness, Ricky!"

"You gave up the right to be happy whenever you brought John into this world! We both did!" Ricky yelled, shooting up again, this time anger pulsing through every fiber of his body as he pointed a finger at her, "Any and all selfish desire for any other kind of life went right out the window for both of us - and now we have another baby, who depends on us every day... and for you to even suggest moving away for whatever reason - happiness, a fresh start, or whatever else kind of bullshit you and your mother - because we all know she's behind this whole charade - want to tell yourselves isn't going to work." He spun on his heel, putting the finger to his chin, "I have an idea... why don't you just marry your mom since you're so stuck up her ass anyway!"

Amy's lip wobbled at his venom, trying to keep it together as he took cheap shots at her, "Why do you have to be so mean? Why are you so mad?"

His eyes grew wide in disbelief, "Are you kidding me? You come in here after midnight from some party and tell me you want to go to New York - three thousand miles away - and expect me to be this happy person? You are insane!" His eyes were angry slits, running a hand over his face, "And it's angry - not mad - angry! And I have a good reason to be angry with you! You can't do this! You can't!" He screamed, taking a step closer, a look she didn't recognize - or like - coming to his face, "And you won't! You're my wife, and I forbid it!"

"I'M NOT YOUR WIFE!" She blurted, screaming the words she had tried so desperately to keep secret, without thinking.

Blink

"Nothing good ever comes from being away from each other, Amy..." His brow furrowed, running a palm over his covered knee, "I just don't understand how you can do this. How you can just up and leave with no remorse -"

"No remorse?" Amy shot up off the step angrily, turning to walk away but shaking her head and standing firm as her eyes became daggered slits, "I've been ripping my heart apart these past few months trying to decide what was best for our family!" Shouting and pointing her finger into his chest, "Do you think I want to leave you and our kids behind? No! But what else can I do? You won't go to New York with me, and I can't put them in an unknown situation in an unknown place with just them and myself. Seeing the look on John's face is breaking me apart - but if I don't go, what kind of life will they have?"

"A good one. A life that has two parents who - "

"Who what? Yell and fight all the time? That's not a good life for them!"

Ricky also shot up off the step, "Okay, so it's all my fault, right? I fucked everything up for you!" Pacing around the small patch of carpet, "I fucked up the perfect little life that you always envisioned yourself having by meeting you and having sex with you - "

She shook her head, "Would you stop it! Just stop! I never said any of that! I don't regret my life with you, alright! I don't!" She took a few steps closer, "But I can't lie to you and say I'm happy with the way things are between us when I'm not! This constant back and forth, of messing up and then apologizing, and trying to find small pockets of peace before the sparks... is exhausting... I can't take another night of finding some kind of revelation followed by empty words of promises you and I both know will end up falling short." She hugged her arms across her chest, "I want to live, Ricky... and this - " gesturing to the space around them, "this isn't living - It's settling. Settling for unhappiness and misery!"

The cracks were there. Visible yet hidden behind those four walls. The four walls that swallowed her some days chained her to the floor out of obligation. The walls burned her retinas; wishing they'd melt away and expose something better; something brighter.

Amy loved her kids, and she loved Ricky, but she didn't love the life they were living; shielding herself and her unhappiness behind a fake smile, while she lay in bed most nights and dreamed of a better life. A life where she was free, and she was happy. The life consisted of their children, and him too, but it wasn't in that place. Those four walls are being traded for a bright blue sky; the invisible noose disappearing from her neck under the trees.

Oftentimes, when she'd awake from those dreams or snap herself back to reality, the guilt would weigh heavy on her. Like her thoughts and wishes were somehow erasing all of her and Ricky's happy moments: destroying everything they had fought so freaking hard to build together.

Sobbing quietly, she glanced at his sleeping figure: Ricky's bare chest exposed with his arm draped over his face. He looked so at peace when he slept. It made her lip tip up just the tiniest bit, thinking about how he'd roll over with a quiet grunt and flex his fingers, blinking twice before he was ready to get up. Their daughter got that from him. It oftentimes takes Amy several minutes to fully wake, which is where their son got it from, too, unable to face the world without wanting to stumble into something or someone first. Hers was oftentimes the end table, or the playpen, while his was the wall. Poor boy bumped the wall more times than she could count.

A light puff of air escaped his lips, drawing her attention back to him, in that bed. The white sheets are a cruel reminder of life's fragility:

A dull phantom pain radiated through her pelvis, "No heartbeat... nothing they can do... sorry..." echoing through her ears like a persistent beat, over and over again. The imaginary blood dripping from her fingertips disappeared as the tears hit her hands.

It was too much.

Amy clamped her palm over her mouth to muffle the scream begging to escape her throat, not wanting to wake him, because the question he would ask her - if she was okay: while his chocolate brown eyes puddled with underlying concern and sadness - would surely cause her to break, like she almost did last night. Pulling at the shirt draped across her otherwise bare body, she brought the wrinkled neck flap to her nose; it smelled like the perfect combination of mint, leather, and the special cologne hidden inside the bathroom cabinet; the comforting scent of him now mixed with the salty tears cascading down her jaw, soaking the fibers.

"Why me?" She whispered to her shoes, head bent down to avoid his eyes.

His brow furrowed in confusion, "what?"

Taking in a deep breath, Amy lifted her head and met his eyes, her voice weak and hoarse as she questioned him, "Why did you choose me, Ricky? Out of all the other girls at that band camp... Why me?"

Ricky's eyes were glassy, a tear rolling down his cheek. Cutting them down, he swallowed, "What do you mean?"

Now wasn't the time to play games. "You know what I mean... what made you want to pursue me? What about me appealed to you?"

"Honesty?"

She nodded, "... please"

Nodding himself, he took a minute before answering, collecting his thoughts so he wouldn't end up putting his foot in his mouth. "I don't know. I just saw you... I saw a flash of your face when you got there. You were bending forward to collect your French horn case from the back of your mom's car... You looked up at me for a split second, but I pretended not to notice. I didn't want you to think I was staring at you... even though it was obvious that I was..." He started to chuckle lightly, "So when I saw you on the field, marching - and plowing into the back of the guy in front of you... I - I got excited... excited that I got to see you again."

His eyes were still down, focused on his hands, "So cliché, I know, but there was just... something about you. I couldn't place it. I pretty much stalked the cafeteria looking for you." He admitted, biting the top of his lip nervously, "Some girl pointed you out to me because she probably got creeped out by my hanging out there for so long, but I had to see you again. There's no other explanation... I wanted to see you again... and after we -" He paused, swallowing, "after we slept together... I was too ashamed of myself to see you again..." A tear dripped onto the knee of his dress pants, finally glancing up to look at her tear-stained face, asking in a whisper, "Where is this coming from, Amy?"

Amy heard the crack in his whisper, fighting against her own emotions and failing, "Because I was a nerdy nobody, Ricky! Yet you... why...?" She closed her eyes, sobbing openly into the dark hallway. "I love John, I do... but for the love of god, Ricky... why did you sleep with me?" Tone escalating, she sniffled, rising to stand, away from him. "We were kids! Stupid high-school kids! We shouldn't have even been thinking about having sex! But we -" She stopped, biting her lip as she shook her head vigorously.

Ricky stood too, "... What are you saying, Amy?" Reaching for her hand, "Do you regret... us?"

"... I was 15, Ricky!" She was still shaking her head, trying to inhale without choking on her cries as she continued her tear-filled assault, "Freshmen in high school shouldn't have to decide between keeping their baby! If I had just stopped making out with you, a little boy wouldn't be sitting in the next room with his heart broken!" She was starting to break, "If I had just gone back to my cabin that night, my heart wouldn't be mangled, trying to claw its way out of my chest! I wouldn't be dying inside and hating myself because I failed the two most important people to both of us! I love those kids more than life itself, but - I -" descending to the floor, her fist balled up, looking up at him.

She might as well have just daggered him and twisted. It couldn't have been any worse than that moment.

Amy's eyes were pooled with wet tears as her voice broke, "Why did you leave me on that couch like I meant nothing, Ricky?"

Stab

"If I meant so much to you... why didn't you keep those promises you said to me?"

Twist

"Our start ended just as quickly as it started! And that something big is sleeping in the next room!"

Draw

Ricky stood corrected, the look in her eyes, killed him; shoved the blade straight through his heart, and left him bleeding out on the living room floor. And all he could do was stand there, as the blood drained from his body; dying with each hiccupping breath that escaped her lips.

He shook his head, unable to do much else besides cry, "I'm so sorry, Amy..." Voice cracking, "I can't - I don't - I didn't mean to hurt you. I never planned on sleeping with you, I swear... I meant what I said... I was scared, Amy... I was terrified I was starting to develop feelings, real feelings for you, and it scared the hell out of me!" Sniffling, "When I saw my - and the - I couldn't face it. I couldn't look at the pain in your eyes, knowing I caused it." Wiping his eyes, he sniffled again, collecting himself, "I swear to you, I never meant to be your first. We shouldn't of had sex! We - I - should have carried a condom on me, regardless if I never thought we'd have sex... that's on me. I know that. I'll take the blame for it - but Ames... I'm glad we didn't - not about the - but about the sex part. I'm happy we had John, and I'm happy we have Emma...

Taking a few steps forward, he reached for her hand, surprised when she didn't pull away, "I love you, Amy... I know you were hurt, and I know I broke those promises, but... you said it yourself, we were just two stupid kids! If I could go back in time, I would! I would rush back into the cafeteria, and I would hold you, and tell you it was okay, and just... be there for you. I would have wiped your tears away and held your hand tightly as I walked you back to your cabin. I should have done those things!" Letting go of her hand, he used it to cover his face, sniffling harder, "But I was me... and that cowardly boy couldn't get close... too close was dangerous." His eyes lowered to the ground again, mumbling through his quivering lip, "If you want to hate me forever, I deserve it but just know that that darkness of our past shouldn't have to dictate where we are now, and how we move forward..."

Grabbing his hand this time, Amy squeezed with a pleading look. It told him what she wanted to say but couldn't. It asked him without her having to - why didn't he fight for her? But as Ricky squeezed back, the pain in her face told him she already knew the answer to her own unspoken question: Ben.

She lowered her eyes this time, no doubt plaguing herself with guilt. He sighed sadly, "Amy, I wasn't good for you. I wasn't ready - Ben was what you needed back then; he was stable, monogamous, and... loved you. And you deserved to be loved." Her eyes rose at his confession. "I'm just sorry that it took me so long after that night to realize that it should have been me loving you all along." Swiping at his cheeks, his voice getting a small edge to it, "Not Ben - Me."

It was quiet between them again, as she rose to stand, hugging her arms tightly to her chest, back turned as she brokenly asked, "Why did you choose to love me?" Ricky's head snapped up, eyes soft, sighing because it was all he knew how to do. Amy was too deep into this assault. She needed to get it out in the open - for both their sakes. He heard her sniffle as she turned to face him. Glancing at their daughters' playpen, the monkey with rings attached draped lazily over the side, "Was I not messed up enough after I got pregnant?" Her lip was wobbling, grabbing the toy and clutching it to her chest, "Did I not wreck you enough?"

"Stop it!" He snapped, slightly upset that she would do this to herself. Taking a few steps forward, he put his hands on her shaking shoulders gently, his voice softening, "You didn't wreck me... Amy Juergens … you saved me..." She looked up at him through swollen and puffy eyes, the stream of tears rolling down her right cheek before pausing at the base of her jaw. And for the first time that whole night, she saw the pain in them; their dark tint being replaced by a lighter shade of brown, shrouded in pleading and pain. Pain for them, and the life they shared. Using his left hand to brush the tears away, "...I know you don't love me anymore..." Ricky admitted, struggling to breathe through the tsunami, washing over him as he choked out, "But - I - I - I'm sorry, Ames. I'm - I'm s-so s-s-orry f-for e-e-everything!

Without a word, Amy engulfed him into her embrace, "...I know..." whispering into his ear and holding him tighter. He tried to speak, but it came out as a hiccupping sob. Kissing his shoulder lightly, "Shhh, it's okay..." She comforted him, rubbing his back soothingly. It was killing her watching him fall apart. He hadn't been this vulnerable since their daughter was born, so she knew he meant every word of his tearful confessions. His sniffle caused her to loosen her grip, sliding her hands to his cheeks and raising his head so his eyes met hers again. "Kiss me..." She inhaled slowly. His hands slid up to cup her arms, his breathing elevated, cautious. "Just... kiss me..." She begged, inching closer, her lips parted as they hovered over them before placing them on his. Feeling them brush against his, Ricky obeyed and kissed back, slowly and tenderly; savoring every second.

His kisses said what he couldn't: Stay.

His lips: the poison she needed to drown in; their soft texture smacking into hers, igniting their deadly, steady drips, before they traveled to her bloodstream and took over.

It was no wonder they ended up between the sheets again. The hold they had on each other was much too strong to fight.

Ricky's gentle sigh broke her thoughts, reaching her hand towards him to touch his arm before pulling it back, bringing her hand to her mouth, and biting her nails again. She didn't want to be torn like this. She wanted the decision to be easy; to stay and be a big happy family again. He wanted that - or at least he said he did - so why couldn't she just accept that and be done with it? Why couldn't she crawl back into bed with him and fall asleep in his arms, waking up to their children and his sleepy smile? Why couldn't she unpack her bags and engulf her kids in a hug, proudly proclaiming that mommy was staying with them forever? And why couldn't she stop the sharp pain from piercing her chest and the tears from blurring her vision?

Because Amy knew that as much as she loved Ricky and their kids, their relationship wasn't going to fix itself overnight because it didn't explode and crumble that way. It took time. Slowly, they stopped giving it the time, attention, communication, security, and affirmation it needed. They traded honest conversations for silence or small talk between bouts of meals, diaper changes, and exhaustion.

Some days, it felt like a dream; like their love story was so far away, and so out of reach, it was questionable if it even existed. Were they really that happy? Was it all in their minds? Did they try too hard to make something work that never would? Were all the fairytales she put so much faith in as a child getting the best of her in believing that they had a romance that could withstand anything?

Exhaling shakily through the pain and the tears, she glanced over at the nightstand where the book of children's fairytales he read to the kids before bed lay, right next to a picture of their family, still perfectly framed, mocking her.

Fairytales were a load of crap.

Once Upon A Time, a nerdy girl met a handsome boy at Bandcamp. The boy and girl liked each other but made a mistake. And from that mistake came their baby boy.

It took them a while, but the nerdy girl became a Princess capable of making the handsome boy into her Prince and eventually fell in love, and from that love came a baby girl. But then the Princess became sad, and the Prince couldn't process why, and it became... hard for them to navigate; hard for the Prince to admit he was starting to not be so in love with the Princess anymore. And the Princess, although she loved the Prince, and the babies they had together, needed to see if there was a life beyond him.

She needed to find herself, for herself, and not just for the boy she loved.

Once Upon A Time, the Princess and the Prince loved each other.

Once Upon A Time, their home was filled with laughter and happiness.

Once Upon A Time, she saw the affection in the boy's eyes.

And, Once Upon A Time, she was genuinely happy.

But, Once Upon A Time isn't a forever. It's a moment in time; a chapter in the book of their lives. And if once upon a time her heart only beat for him, and his for her, how did they let it all crash straight to hell?

Because they lost that spark that made them, them.

The fireworks were still there - in the ways they touched, kissed, and made love - but the embers of their once vibrant love for each other, fizzled and turned to smoke with all their memories.

It was time to rewrite the story now.

Not all Once Upon A Times end in Happily Ever After's. Sometimes, the Prince doesn't save the Princess, and they don't stay in love forever. They realize they are human, and humans are messy and make mistakes.

She wanted to be happy, and most of the time, she was. But sometimes... especially in the night when everything was quiet and she was left alone to her thoughts, she would break; crying out all the things she wished she could tell someone - anyone - that would understand and see through her façade; see that the smile she often wore was so fake it made her cheeks hurt. It was incredibly lonely on those nights, but it was what she deserved; what she wanted; what she gave up everything she loved for.

The children would wake soon, and their lives would return to the new normal they'd become accustomed to. Amy would be back where she needed to be - and away from wrecking Ricky anymore than she already had.

This isn't a story she ever wanted to tell. The one where the girl fought with all of her heart but still had to walk away in the end because she knew they all deserved better.

Swiping her thumb across the glass of the frame as the tears pounded on it, Amy stifled a rough, hiccupping sob.

Once Upon A Time... he loved her. And Once Upon A Time... she loved him too. But it all fell apart in a moment... and how she wished it wasn't true.

---

His eyes lifted, gazing over her half-naked body beside him, "Hi..." He tried to sound seductive, but it came out slurred from sleep.

She giggled, "Hi," Leaning in to peck his lips, caressing his bicep with her right hand.

Blinking slowly, Ricky bit his bottom lip, "think the sirens in there will hold off for a few more minutes?" Hoping that their children would allow them some alone time they desperately needed.

She giggled again, teasing him by loosening the buttons on his shirt draped over her body, "How are you so eager for sex this early in the morning?"

"Says the one teasing me!" He chuckled back, helping Amy with the final button, eyes cutting up to hers with a husky whisper, "10 minutes?"

She bit her top lip with her bottom teeth before shrugging and leaning in to kiss him again. He put his left hand on her hip, fingers grazing the dip in her thigh below her butt; his kisses becoming rougher and more eager. Moving his left hand up, he helped her shed the shirt she wore, exposing her black bra. Shifting his right hand higher, he didn't even get to the waistband of her matching underwear before the baby monitor on the end table erupted with a violent screech.

With one more kiss, Ricky pulled away, slightly annoyed, letting his hands slip from her body as she sighed and gathered the shirt back onto her back the worn sheets, he blew air from his cheeks and ran a hand through his hair, defeated.

He twitched slightly, feeling a shift in the mattress.

"Ricky!" Amy called out loudly from the bedroom, a crack in her voice, "Can you come here a sec?"

He twitched again, fingers flexing against the fabric draped on her side of the bed.

"Ricky!" She shouted again, rougher, "Ricky, I need you!"

His eyes popped open at the rise of her voice, only to find the spot beside him empty; his white dress shirt splayed out across the worn sheets. "Ames?" Ricky whispered sleepily, blinking a few times to register that he was no longer inside his dream.

Leaning up further, he shook his head, shouting a little louder into the dark room, "Amy?" Before getting up to investigate the rest of the apartment, "Ames, you in here? Amy?" Nothing. The silence echoed against the walls of the hallway, his voice remaining at a low volume to prevent from waking the children who were still sleeping when he poked his head in to see if she was in there.

Coming back into the living room, he saw it - her suitcase, standing upright by the door, shielded by the darkness of the bookshelf.

His breathing started to increase, closing his eyes to bury the rage, ravaging through him before shaking his head and unlocking the door. With an angry scoff, Ricky picked up the case of hard plastic and threw it out the door: not at all concerned when it hit the wall with a loud thud and a sickening shatter; whatever was inside was clearly broken - like the remnants of his already fragile heart that she had once again taken a hammer to.

Standing in the doorway, staring at what he had done, he heard a small whimper from the baby monitor, and slammed the door angrily, swiping his left hand over his face quickly before entering the bedroom - determined to shield his children, and himself, from feeling the pain of Amy's betrayal yet again.

The small whimper turned into a series of fussy whining, increasing in volume as Emma sat up in the crib, kicking her legs outward while gnawing on a teething ring - still too small to see out over the bars without standing up.

"Good morning!" Ricky whispered through a tired smile, surprised to see his daughter so wide-eyed and seemingly quiet. "Did you finally sleep through the night?" He asked her teasingly, accepting her invitation to pick her up as she rose her little arms up towards him with a drawn-out whine. Running his hand through her disheveled curls, he kissed her cheek, wrinkling his nose at the same time as he noted she needed a change.

Spinning them around, he went to work on his task, gurgling along with her muffled, indiscernible babbles and high-pitched squeals between chews on the purple ring clutched in her palm. "Dadadadada!"

Using that small pocket of seconds that she was docile, he stepped back and bent down to open the dresser drawer, pulling out a random purple and blue onesie from the neatly folded pile, and sliding it over her head quickly, upsetting her as the teether fell to the floor. She flailed her arms, combative against the slightly too-large garment being put on her body.

For being 8 1/2 months old, Emma was still very small and teetered between sizes when it came to clothes: too little to fit in most 6-9, but too big to fit into 3-6 - the sweet spot was 6 exactly, and even then, some pieces would still be too big.

Another thing she got from her mother.

Her mother...

"Amy I -" He stuttered, seeing her eyes start to water through the darkness. They were lying together, having just made love again, under the sheets; his heart was racing, seeing the tears run down her cheeks.

She bit her lip, not even bothering to wipe them away, "I know..." was all she could say.

Ricky gulped, running his hand over hers - did she regret what they had done? Or rather continued to do since she came back? Or did she regret... him?

Amy sniffled, cutting her eyes up to meet his, "Are we - do you -" Pausing to swallow, she sniffled again, seemingly unable to ask what was truly on the tip of her tongue, "...can you just hold me until I fall asleep, please?" There was a crack in her pleading whisper: like it pained her to even ask the question that wasn't even a debatable one because of course he would.

Without a word, he nodded and wrapped both arms around her shuttering body as she cried into his chest.

Little did he know the reason behind those tears would be because she couldn't bring herself to stay; she was leaving again, and she knew it.

An irritable whine brought him back to reality as Emma gave him a strange look; the slight eyebrow rise with a pursed lip he'd seen all too many times from...

Not allowing the thoughts of her to come back into his mind, Ricky shook his head, and lifted Emma into his arms: she might be the spitting image of Amy, but they weren't the same. And he didn't have to envision his ex every time their daughter did something that reminded him of her... because if he allowed himself to do that, it would break him.

She squealed, throwing her head back while pointing out towards the toddler wrestling with the blanket he was wrapped up in, struggling to wake up.

He smiled at her again, "Yeh, is that John? You want John?"

"Jajajaaaaa!" She replied with another long, scream-like squeal, flexing her fingers before shoving them into her mouth.

Chuckling lightly, he shifted her weight to sit in between the bend of his elbow and torso, "Hey, buddy," greeting the boy rubbing his fists into his eye sockets: John always took forever to wake up. The lazy curl of his fingers as a greeting back amused him, running his hand over his no longer partially spiked hair, "Good morning!" John yawned wide, stumbling to get to his feet and outstretching his arms above his head. Scooping him up into his other arm, Ricky carted the two to the kitchen, setting him down on the counter before sliding her into the highchair. "You want some breakfast?" He opened the fridge and the freezer at the same time to peer at what was available.

"Where mommy?" John asked through a mumble, rubbing his eye again, "I wa-na see mommy..."

Taking out a half-full bag of frozen waffles, he spun on his heels and sprinkled some cheerios onto the highchair tray from the box on the table, sighing, "Mommy isn't here right now, John" He said it gently, trying to keep his temper in check as he spoke.

John huffed, pouting with his bottom lip pushed out as he stared at his bare feet swinging off the countertop. A knock on the door a minute later caused his head to snap up, eyes brightening. "Mommy!" He cheered, practically leaping off the counter and fumbling to his feet before taking off to the door in a sprint.

Ricky knew it wasn't her, but didn't have the heart to tell him that. John would find out soon enough when he opened it to someone else - probably one of Ricky's moms.

"Mommy! Mommy!" Getting to the knob, he grinned as he tugged on it, the smile fading from his cheeks when the wrong dark-haired woman stared back at him. Ricky could hear the disappointment in his son's sigh; his little shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Wicky!" Robbie cheered through a toothy grin, running straight into the apartment and over to his niece - letting her feed him a Cheerio.

She stood there, watching, a small smile coming to her face.

"What are you doing here?" He questioned, throwing back a handful of dry Cheerios into his mouth.

Ashley shrugged, running her hand through her nephew's hair, "I thought you could use a friend" It was genuine, her tone laced with sadness as she pulled him to her lap and sat on the sofa, "my sister was never really good with goodbyes."

Ricky's eyes cut down, "So I've noticed," biting the inside of his cheek to prevent him from saying something he'd regret. It was silent for a few minutes - other than Robbie and Emma's game of pop-up-and-scream - allowing him to gather his thoughts. "Can I make you some breakfast?"

Her lip tipped up, "Depends - what fabulous meal you'll be throwing yourself into."

He chuckled lightly, grabbing the bag of frozen waffles off the table, "Only the finest of frozen delicacies - I'll even throw in some butter and syrup." She grimaced. "What? Fancy Italian town change your tune?"

"Funny," she chuckled, eyebrows raising slightly, "with the weekend we've all had frozen waffles just seem so... bland..."

"Yeah, well with kids, everything has to be bland, or they won't eat it." Sprinkling more cereal on his daughters tray and earning an excited gurgle because of it.

"Right." Clicking her tongue, and motioning to her brother with a curl of her finger, she put John on his feet and stood. Ricky looked up, giving her a confused look. "Get your jacket," she instructed, taking a few steps towards the door, "and meet me downstairs."

"For what?" He was still confused

"Stop questioning everything and just meet me downstairs, okay?"

---

"This is good," He said through a small smile, shoveling another cut-up piece against the fork in his fingers while glancing at the boys next to him diving into their breakfast.

They were all seated inside a booth off to the right side of the wall, away from all the other diner-goers chatting loudly about the state of the economy and the weather. It was close to 11 a.m., the sun shining brightly onto the marble flooring and glaring against the chrome barstools at the counter. It was a quiet place, about 30 minutes out of town, off on a near desolate location near the freeway. He'd never been there before, but Ashley insisted they join her, claiming that the breakfast alone would take his mind off of her.

It didn't.

"Told you." She replied with a snark, moving her breakfast around on her plate before dropping the fork against the ceramic, "So what's going on with you and my sister - really?"

Pausing his chewing, Ricky's eyes cut away, focusing on the baby starting to whimper and crush the tiny bits of pancake on her tray, between her fingers. Moving a small curl behind Emma's ear, he glanced down, slightly annoyed.

She continued speaking, twirling the twine bracelet with a T around her wrist, "She's never been one to make a brash decision - so why now?"

"It's not that cut and dry, Ashley. There are a lot of things between us that are complicated, and you don't understand -"

"Complicated? Really? Oh, what makes you say that?" Ashley's brow was raised, lips pursed outward, "You loved each other for years, and then she took off thousands of miles to be with another guy - not you - and you're just taking it? What's to understand? That my sister is such a -"

"Watch it!" He growled, slamming his closed fist on the table, earning the stares of the toddlers across from him, and two elderly women at the table next to them. "Sorry..." His tone lowered, cautious to keep his temper in check, going back to his plate, "I just don't want you talking bad about my children's mother, okay?"

She seemed taken aback by his sudden calmness, the silence between them growing more awkward as it went on.

The boys were busy flinging their blueberries at each other when they weren't obnoxiously ramming their Hot Wheels cars into whatever was on the table or the other cars. The baby was getting restless too, throwing the last remnants of her breakfast to the floor in a tired baby tantrum. Their behavior earned a few "tisks" from the older diner goers, zeroing in solely on their table, and the disruption it was causing. No doubt whispering their judgment under their breath while they held sympathy for the poor children being raised by the stupid, inexperienced teenagers they were with. Normally, that stuff didn't bother Ashley, but today it did.

Ricky was shoveling the last bite of crape into his mouth when she crossed her arms and stomped her boot onto the marble floor, "Aren't you angry?"

Finishing off, he pushed the plate forward, creasing his brow in frustration, "Of course, I am, Ashley!" Sighing, "But... what good will it do, anyone? She made her decision. I can't -"

"Can't what? Say what you really feel. Can't hurt Ms. Perfects' precious feelings?" She interjected, "Newsflash, she doesn't deserve it! How can you be so forgiving with her after everything she's done..." Pausing, she glanced at her niece now sitting across from her on his lap; Emma's green eyes were watery, and her little lip drawn in - much like Amy's often was when she was upset. Now she understood why. "Wait... don't answer that -" her voice became softer, inching further into the booth, "You still love her, don't you?" Silently, he lowered his eyes, inadvertently answering her question without having to actually say it aloud. "You and Amy are right for each other - you know that."

He sighed, eyes still down as he played with his daughter's hand, "For two people to be right for each other... they both have to know it." Emma whimpered, grabbing hold of his finger and biting down hard to alleviate some of the discomforts in her mouth.

Ashley pursed her lips, "I don't get it. After all that you two have been through, how can you look at her now and feel nothing?"

"Who said I feel nothing? Who said I don't feel like I'm dying inside -" Ricky muttered angrily, shaking his head to rid it, "She walked out on me, okay?"

"So what you're just going to give up and let your marriage crumble?"

"We weren't really married, remember?"

"Yes, you were. You took the vows! You exchanged the rings - you're married! Who cares about a piece of paper!"

"There's nothing I can do! She's made up her mind and I-"

"Oh, get over yourself!" She shouted, uncrossing her arms dramatically, "This is your fault!"

That didn't sit well with him as he snickered to prevent himself from snapping, "How? How is it the dumped guy's fault?"

Her eyes were angry slits, "Oh, stop playing the victim! You're just as much to blame for this as she is! Had you not been making google eyes at that whore, maybe she wouldn't have felt like she needed to go!" She was visibly upset, her eyes starting to water as she asked, "Did you even tell her you still love her?"

He bit the inside of his cheek, hard, "Yeah, I did -" The rougher edge to his voice caused Emma to whimper again, cutting him off by swiftly throwing her head back against his chest. Ricky looked down at her, running his palm over her dark curls, "And you know what happened? She left anyway!" Ashley was silent to his statement, shaking her head dismissively. He closed his eyes, pushing down all the emotions he didn't want to unleash before standing up and running his hand through his hair in a fluster to get away from all the eyes locked on them, "I need some air..."

He got about four steps in before she turned in her chair, red-faced and angry, shouting after him, "Yeah, that's good, run away! Run away like everyone does whenever they don't want to confront their feelings!"

Turning around, he pointed a finger at her, hearing all the rumblings of the diner goers who had had enough - something they all had in common. "You need to stop. Now. Let it go."

She stood to face him, "No, I can't just 'let it go'! My niece and nephew deserve two parents who love them!" Biting her lip, "They don't deserve custody battles and shuffling between states while they only get to see their mom through a screen! Don't you care about them?"

"Of course I do!" He boomed, picking up the toy Emma had thrown on the floor, "Ashley... I don't know why you're so upset, but this is between me and Amy. I appreciate your concern, I really do. But -"

"But nothing! You love my sister! So swallow your stupid pride, go to New York, and fight for her! Get her to stay! Grovel if you have to!" The tears ran down Ashley's cheeks - great, now she was crying. "Do it for them... don't give up..."

Ricky stepped closer, "Hey, I didn't give up, all right? She gave up -" gathering all of their belongings, "She gave up on a great thing." Taking John's hand, he sighed heavily, "I can't do it anymore, Ashley. I'm sorry, but I - I just can't!" A tear slid down his jaw. She saw him swallow before cutting his eyes away again, too pained to let her see him fall apart, the rough edge returning to his tone, "Tell Aunt Ashley, and Robbie, bye, and thanks for breakfast."

John looked over at him before looking up, "Bye-bye, Ash-ee!" And going in for a hug.

Letting go of her nephew, Ashley grabbed his wrist, "Ricky - "

It didn't faze him, giving a small smile to his children's pint-sized uncle while holding out his hand, "See you later, little man." Robbie grinned, slapping his palm hard. His smile faded a little when he pulled his hand back, moving past her, "Bye, Ash. Take care of yourself in Italy, " and walked away.

They were bounding through the parking lot, John struggling to keep up with his dad's stride as he tried to shield his baby sister from the light drizzle now falling from the sky. "Daddy, why, Ash-ee and Wobbie, not jus go-in wit us?" He asked once they got to the car, quickly hopping into his seat. Ricky wasn't paying attention to his question, too busy fiddling with the buckles of the car seat while Emma cried into his ear, so he got louder, "Daddy!"

Securing the buckles, Ricky put the pacifier into her mouth, exhaling slowly, "Not now, John!" It came out harsher than he had intended, causing John to flinch and frown. Ricky swallowed quickly, reaching for his son's hand, "I'm sorry - I didn't mean to lose my temper..."

John shook away from him, "No!" Crossing his arms across his chest, his lip puckered like he was on the verge of tears, "I want my mommy!"

Ricky knew the boy wasn't going to budge, and he was tired of getting pelted with rain, so he just sighed and closed the door, silently climbing into the driver's side and starting the car. Taking a peek into the mirror, he saw a tear slide down John's red cheek, his lip wobbling as he stared out the window. Guilt washed over Ricky, angry and pained that his son had to go through this cycle again. Expelling the air from his cheeks, he adjusted the dial on the dash, filling the car with a soothing mix of instrumental melodies, "Just... listen to the music and try to relax buddy, okay?"

John sniffled as a response, fidgeting with his fingers and keeping his eyes glued to the drizzle dripping down the window as he mumbled sadly under his breath, "I mwiss my mommy..."

Closing his eyes, Ricky rested his head back against the seat, "Me too, kid... me too..."

---

"Hey, guys!" She greeted cheerily, giving a little wave to Noah and Alexi as she stepped inside and up to the bar. They didn't say anything, just scoffed and walked away. Her brow furrowed at their responses, pursing her lips, "Okay..." and continued her stroll through the dingy club.

His back was turned, head down like he was focusing on something. Biting her lip, she quickly bounced over, putting her hands over his eyes, giggling "Hey you!" Taking them off of him, she didn't look at him before starting to ramble, "You're not going to believe the weekend that I've had. My dad got remarried to his first wife, and my grandmother came back after like 10 years of being gone -" When she did glance at him, he was uninterested, not even looking in her direction, just kept his eyes on his guitar. "Adam?" Amy grabbed his shoulder, giving it a gentle shake, "Hey, babe?"

"Get the fuck off of me!" Adam hissed, grabbing her wrist

Taken aback, her mouth went agape, "Whoa... You okay?" His eyes were dark, the pressure of his fingers getting stronger, "Adam... you're hurting me..." She'd never seen him act this way, and it was starting to scare her. Exhaling slowly, she was about to say his name again when he let go, turning around to focus on anything but her. "What the hell is your problem?"

Scoffing roughly, he adjusted another button on the guitar around his neck, "You're my problem!" His lips were pressed into a tight line, speaking after a long 30 seconds of silence, "Did you really think I wouldn't find out? Huh? Think running back to your mommy and daddy would keep me from finding out what a massive whore you really are?"

His words threw her, catching her off guard, "Adam..."

"You cheated on me!" Adam fumed, throwing his guitar pick across the room.

"I - Adam - I didn't -" Amy couldn't do anything but stutter, ashamed and embarrassed that he had somehow found out about her weekend tryst with Ricky. The tears started brimming in her eyes, "It was a mistake! A stupid mistake! I - I swear it didn't mean anything -" covering her face in her hands, "The mediation went the other way and I - we -"

Adam's head snapped up quickly, "What the fuck are you talking about?" The tone changed to a menacing growl, "You cheated on me with Ricky?"

"I-I'm s-so sorry... I didn't mean-"

"No!" He yelled, pushing her attempt to touch him away, "No! Stop!" Picking up another pick, he launched it into the air, "Em said she saw you kissing Ben before you left... but you - you - fucked HIM? You fucking fucked Prince Charming!?" The invisible steam billowed from his ears as he continued to rage, "That's bullshit even for you!"

She was fully sobbing now, hugging her arms tightly across her chest, "Adam, I -"

"Shut the fuck up and save your sorry for someone who actually gives a fuck!" His snarl made her jump, "You're nothing but a lying whore..." the veins in his neck popping out in a weird controlled way as he picked up a shot glass from the table and sent it flying through the smokey air with a sickening shatter. This side of him wasn't pleasant, and all she wanted to do was make it stop. But he was determined to make her feel as shitty as he possibly could... and maybe she deserved it. Adam was the only guy she's ever had feelings - real feelings - for since Ricky.

Ricky...

The pen nearly slipped from her fingers, shaking so much the ink was starting to smudge together.

He was still sleeping, snoring peacefully against his pillow in the darkness of the apartment. He must have been having a good dream because normally the absence of her body next to his, would wake him. Same as her: whenever he woke up, she missed him too much to stay asleep.

Why was her mind doing this to her? She left. She came back to New York. It was over between them for good... wasn't it?

Her ears tuned out his continued assault, four shattered shot glasses littered around them as the clubgoers looked on and whispered to each other.

He turned to face her, the bright blue of his eyes turning to a dull gray; he was hurt by her transgression, and he wanted to shield himself from having to deal with it by attacking her. Lips curling into a smirk, "Oh, and by the way... while you were fucking Price Charming, I fucked Em - and enjoyed every single minute of it!"

That was the blow he'd been waiting for. The one he knew would pop her like a balloon.

Amy's mouth fell open, unbelieving at the words that fell so casually and freely off his lips. Emery? He slept with Emery?

Adam started to cackle as he saw the tears rolling down her cheeks, putting his hand up to her ear and tucking a strand of hair behind it - like he knew Ricky often did because Amy stupidly told him. He was mocking Ricky while hurting her and getting amusement out of it, "Don't look so shitty, Amy... it was just sex, right?" Shaking his head, he pushed her away, slinging the guitar over his shoulder, before taking one last look at her brokenhearted face, mumbling a venomous, "You're nothing but a stupid slut" before jumping onto the stage.

The blade Adam stabbed her with should have hurt - and it did - but not like the one Ricky pierced through her. It didn't make Amy want to bury herself in a hole while she bled out from the wound. Adam's was more of a dull slice; penetrating just enough to break skin and sting.

Standing there, the blood continued to pound in her ears, blocking out most of everything around her; briefly making out Adam's thick voice as it shouted to the crowd. She heard him say he had gotten a call, and that it was his last show. But everything else was just static.

"I wrote a new song recently, but unfortunately the person I wrote it for decided riding her ex was better than me..." Adam scowled, strumming a few cords, and taking a step back from the microphone, "So I said fuck that shit! And fuck that bitch!" Screaming as he pumped his fist into the air, and started strumming more, raising his head with a wicked grin on his face, "This one's for you, Amy!"

"Oh, well imagine... As I'm pacing the pews in a church corridor. And I can't help but hear. No, I can't help but hear an exchanging of words..." He sang aggressively, shaking his blonde locks away from his eyes, "What a beautiful wedding. What a beautiful wedding says a bridesmaid to a waiter... And, yes, but what a shame..." Pausing, he gave a nod to Noah and Zach, grinning as he looked directly at Amy on the side of the stage, a snarl coming to his lips, turning the volume up on his amp, as the crowd roared along, "What a shame the poor groom's bride is a WHORE!"

It wasn't until all the eyes locked on her, and the laughter bounced off of the walls that she finally realized what was happening. She was frozen, the tears dripping down her cheeks as the lyrics dripped with his venomous revenge. He was getting back at her by humiliating her.

A red-headed woman in the crowd, walked up, purposely bumping into her and spilling her solo cup all over the front of her shirt. "Whoops!" The redhead sarcastically said, nudging her in the shoulder and loudly declaring "slut!" As she walked past.

Shaking her head, Amy tearfully bit her lip and bolted through the crowd and out the door, away from the club. And away from Adam, forever.

---

"I don't know why grandma wasn't there, buddy," He stated to the boy, helping him hop a step by holding onto his hand. She beat her palms against his left cheek in a fussy tantrum, still not feeling good.

They were about 5 steps away when he glanced up, seeing them sitting on the step, blocking the path. She held Robbie in her lap, whispering something into his ear that made him giggle loudly. They stopped abruptly when they got to the last step, his eyes annoyed slits that got her to shift enough for them to pass by her without a word. Rising, she grabbed his hand and sighed, following them to the door.

"I have nothing to say to you. I'm done talking about this!" Ricky muttered, avoiding looking at her as he jiggled the key to get the lock to open. It was getting worse and sticking more ever since John had escaped the apartment a few months ago.

Ashley sighed, "I'm sorry, okay. I shouldn't have pressed you so hard." Stopping at the doorframe, arms crossed, "But that's not why I came here... Do you think I could -" her eyes glanced over to her nephew, sitting by himself on the couch, "Maybe I could spend some time with them? With Emma and John?" Her voice was quiet, a twinge of sadness laced in as she touched her niece's hand that was hanging off his shoulder, "I leave tomorrow, and who knows when I'll be back..."

His face lit up a little, shifting the rowdy baby to a blanket splayed out on the floor, "Of course, you can, Ash -"

"Am-e?" A squeaky voice asked loudly, getting the attention of the boy flying his action figure in the air. Before Ricky could protest, John ran past him in a frenzy to see if it was really her. Which they all knew it wasn't.

Robbie stood by the suitcase, pointing to it with a chubby finger. John looked over at his uncle before shifting his gaze back to the suitcase, recognizing it from last night. "Th-at is my mommy's!" He declared, a small smile coming to his lips as he pointed and bounced on his feet, "Daddy, look! Look, Daddy! Look! It's mommy's!"

Leaning over it, John was about to grab the zippers when Ricky shouted, "Get away from that, John!" Rushing over and prying his hands away. The look on his son's face was enough to make him sigh in guilt and shame. John's lip wobbled, trying not to cry at the scolding. Getting down to their level, Ricky bent his knee and ran a hand through the boy's hair, voice becoming softer, "I'm sorry, John... I didn't mean to snap at you. Something broke inside this... I just don't want you to get hurt, buddy..." John's eyes were brimming with tears, nodding slowly but still upset.

Ashley walked over to them, grazing his back in a small circle with her nails, "Why don't we all go inside for a snack?" Without hesitation, both boys followed through the door, away from the suitcase, and him.

Taking a deep breath through a sniffle, Ricky shakily grabbed at the zippers, dragging them across until a piece of something tumbled out- glass.

Glass everywhere. The suitcase was full of it. Poking through the fibers of clothing and around the enclosures. So much glass, it would be impossible not to get cut.

Opening it up further, he saw where it all came from. The picture he kept on his nightstand, was destroyed amongst two other ones; their frames busted into pieces while the glass clung in tiny shards to the once glossy paper.

Picking it up carefully, but not careful enough to prevent from nicking himself on a shard attached to the front, he sniffled; the way Amy looked at him in the image - like he was the only person in the world - mocked him because it was all a lie.

Putting the image to the side, his finger dripped tiny droplets of blood on her purple sweater, the image atop it the only one unscathed other than one crack on the side. It had been stashed inside a drawer ever since it fell off the wall after one of their many fights that ended in one, or more, door slams. This one was a picture of them at his graduation: the one he loved so dearly. He was on bended knee, ring in hand, as he asked the woman he loved more than anyone, to be his wife. It's funny how life works. Now Ricky was on his knees, combing through broken glass for fragments of understanding. He needed to understand why Amy continued to stomp his heart into the dust; he needed to know why she kept running away from them.

More blood dripped as he moved on to the other picture: this one having a note paperclipped to it. It was of John staring at a then newborn Emma on their sofabed, holding her hand. Emma's green eyes were locked on him, seemingly mesmerized and calmed by the sight of her big brother.

Momentarily smiling at the image and stroking it with his finger, the note lingered behind it, causing his smile to wane. Removing the paperclip, he took in a deep breath, eyes brimming with tears.

It was scribbled in purple ink - her favorite color - and read:

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I can't say that enough. And it'll probably never be enough, but it's all I can give you.

I'm sorry.

I'm just not good for anyone... they deserve better. You deserve better. Please tell them I love them, and that I always will... even if you hate me..."

Letting the tears slide down his face, Ricky took notice of a bent document wedged between one of the broken frames and the side of the suitcase. He didn't want to open it, already knowing what it was just from the texture of the paper. So it came as no surprise when he unfolded it and saw Amy's signature scrawled in black ink at the bottom.

She signed them. Amy signed the custody papers. It was over.

He was frozen; unable to move; unable to speak; the air snatched from his lungs, making it harder to breathe through the combination of crushing devastation and blind rage coursing through his blood.

More tears escaped his eyes; a mixture of water and blood pooling together atop the shattered glass inside the casing. All their happy moments and memories shattered like the remnants poking the fibers of the clothing; the 32-inch plastic and metal case under his hands was the perfect metaphorical representation of his life: shattered and broken. Much like what was left of his heart.

Ashley cleared her throat, "Are you okay... I mean, really okay?"

"No..." Ricky whispered through a sob, looking over the letter again, his voice getting rougher, "...I'll never be..."

Taking the images into his hands, he bent the picture of his children and shoved it into his back pocket. Their engagement photograph lay within the ruin, no use in saving it. It held no meaning anymore. And the last one - the one where Amy's smile was forever frozen and contained within the paper - Ricky ripped in two, along with the letter of her half-assed apology that he didn't believe, nor want to accept. She left them again like they were nothing to her. So her words held no merit. Not anymore.

"Look, Daddy! Ash-ee jus div me a cookie!" John cheered, grasping two cookies in his hands, one being held out to him. He had a small smile on his face when he ran up to the door, but it just as quickly turned to a frown as the toddler saw the picture of their family torn; floating to the ground in two separate pieces.

Their fractured family.

"... daddy..." He looked up at his dad with sadness swimming in his brown eyes. Her eyes.

Not realizing that his son was standing there, Ricky couldn't say anything to combat what he saw. He wasn't going to lie to him, but he also wasn't going to tarnish his mother - no matter how much he wanted to tell him the absolute truth - he wouldn't. So he swallowed the guilt, neck craned up to the ceiling, eyes closed as he took in shaky deep breaths and flexed his fingers to keep his temper at bay. The last thing he'd ever want his son to see is him losing it on the wall behind him. Never would his children see the side of him he's worked his whole teenage life to combat and work through - not if he could help it.

Ashley put her hand on his shoulder, "I'm sorry...," watching her ex-brother-in-law try to keep his demons concealed. "I can watch them for you if you want. If you want to clear your head?" She offered, swiping a stray tear from her cheek, glancing with sympathy between him, her nephew, and her niece crawling around behind her.

He sniffled twice, lowering his head enough that she could see his red and puffy eyes. He looked so broken.

They were both silent for a few more seconds before Ricky shook his head very slowly, his thumb and forefinger pressed firmly into the bridge of his nose. He needed an escape.

Taking a step forward, Ashley put her hand on his arm gently, giving it a small squeeze, "It's okay... just go. I got it."

Without a word but a subtle nod, he took off down the stairs. She heard the backdoor of the butcher shop slam roughly before silence took over again. Her brother stood in the door frame, grasping one of John's toys in his palms. His face held confusion. While her back was turned to John, to aid her brother and niece in not escaping the apartment, he took a few steps forward, picking up the remains of the picture his dad had ripped up. One of the pieces had his dad and sister in it... the other of him and his mother. It was the one most torn: his mother not having but half a face left from the rip.

His lip was wobbling, unable to keep from crying into the air, "Daddy hwates mommy!" and dropping his treats as his hands went to his eyes.

Ashley sighed, ushering to his side and embracing him tightly, rubbing his back soothingly as he hiccupped against her shirt. "It's okay, John... everything is going to be okay..."

---

"You backstabbing slut!" She raged, throwing the door open so hard it hit the wall and caused a picture frame to fall, "How could you?"

Clicking her tongue, she put her phone down on the bed and hopped off the side, throwing her anger right back, "I'm a slut? Chica, you deserved what you got for sleeping with Ben!"

"I thought we were friends?"

"Friends?" Em snorted through a scoff, twisting her lips as her cheeks drew up, "Honey, what would I need with a teen mom who can't keep her legs closed? Did Ricky ever get a paternity test? Are those kids of yours even his?" Taking a step forward, she got up into her face, Or did you lie about that too because you're a whore?"

Amy had had enough of everyone at that point, putting her arms out and shoving her roommate, hard, "Fuck you!"

Regaining balance to keep from falling backward, Emery's face contorted again, "Fuck me? Fuck you! I'm not the one who cheated on my boyfriend with my exs!" She was steaming, her red hair matching the shade of her cheeks, "You knew I liked Ben, but that didn't stop you!" Her tone changed, a slightly sadistic smirk on her lips, "... Much like Adam didn't stop me from riding him, hard, in his backseat in the alleyway... I didn't know he could moan like that..."

Amy was grasping onto Ricky's shoulders, lapping her tongue against his as he thrust deeper into her; the sweat building on his forehead while the gentle moans vibrated in his throat.

Unbelieving of what she was hearing, Amy's mouth fell open, and the tears ran down her cheeks, "... Why?" Was all she could say, gulping hard to regain composure. This girl was the closest thing she had to a friend, and she did this? How could she?

"Quit being such a drama queen, it was just sex!"

Why did everybody keep saying that? That it was just sex? It was never "just sex", no matter how many times she lied to herself and said it was, or anyone else said it too - it wasn't. And it took her until that very moment to realize it. To realize that she could try to bury it; forget it ever happened and wipe it clean, but it would never work. He would always be in her thoughts; swimming freely to haunt her every breath with the constricting desire to be with him again.

Em rolled her eyes, brushing past Amy to the other side of the room, "Look... I'm going to be straight with you - nobody wants you here. You made a mistake coming here. You don't fit in with us, and after tonight... and Adam's performance, I guarantee nobody is going to associate with you. Do us all a favor, Chica, and go back to California. It's what's best for everyone."

---

His breathing was quickening, increasing the pace, and grunting through the blows.

Wa-pam!

He crunched his fist into the bag, drawing back just as quickly to do it again, harder and faster. The sounds of wet towels slapping against the walls mixed with the crackles of pencils being broken, filling the pungent air with each blow.

Wa-pam!

Wa-pam!

Wa-pam!

"You might want to slow down before you pop a lung" Jack cautioned, bringing the dumbbell up his torso with the curl of his right arm. Watching as he ignored his warning, he shook his head, "Breaking your hands isn't going to bring her back, Ricky."

Pausing for a brief second, Ricky inhaled deeply and rolled his shoulders, unleashing another assault on the black bag. His lungs were stinging and his hands were pulsing with pain, but he refused to stop. "I'm fine!" He snapped back, adjusting his footing just a fraction to get a better angle before jabbing.

Moving the dumbbell to his other arm, "No you're not! I saw you two - you and Amy - kissing at the wedding. You're not fine, buddy."

"Thanks for the advice, shrink."

"I'm serious! You told me I needed help - and I got help. You need to talk to someone." Lifting the weight above his head with his right hand, "What happened after you bolted out of the reception anyway?"

Lowering his fists, Ricky hung his head, avoiding eye contact with his friend, "... we... had sex... again..."

A loud thud echoed off the weights on the floor. "Shit!" Jack cursed, narrowly avoiding the dumbbell crushing his foot as he looked at his buddy with a shocked expression, "Wait, seriously?" Ricky stayed silent, flexing his fingers to relieve some of the pain radiating through the joints in his hands. Jack's mouth was still open in surprise, brow raised slightly, "That's good right? Are you two getting back together I mean? Wait - again? You slept with her twice?"

Ricky blew air from his cheeks, turning very slowly on his heels to face Jack, shaking his head and guiltily biting the corner of his bottom lip, "... three times..."

Jack's eyes widened, stilling from taking the weight back into his hand, "Wow. Okay. That's - That's interesting."

Ricky scoffed as a retort, knowing where he was going with his next thought, "Don't say it!"

Putting a free hand up in surrender, he nodded, "What did I tell you - two people who used to love each other, see each other for the first time in a while, and... it all comes back."

Shaking his head again, angry at himself "How could I let this happen!" Ricky raved, hitting the side of the bag, "Cause you know things weren't already fucked up enough between us! Why wouldn't having sex together make it worse?" Grunting in aggravation, he shoved the mound of black out of his way.

Jack shrugged, moving onto the bars by his head and pumping his arms outward, "Is it because of Clementine? Or wait, isn't Amy dating some drummer or something?"

Her hands were deep into his hair, ravaging his scalp with her nails as he caught her lip between his teeth and drug it down. Her back was arching, his thrusts slow in stride to savor.

"D-ee-epper..." Amy gasped, gulping in air between rough kisses. He was hitting all the right spots, but she needed to feel him more: as deep as she could. And he wanted to feel every inch of her; prolong their lovemaking as long as possible because then she'd stay.

She wouldn't leave again if she was wrapped up in his arms.

Or so he hoped.

As the memory floated through his mind, it started to morph.

Instead of Ricky being entangled with her, it was Adam. His worst nightmare come true: he was running his hands down her body, lingering on her breasts as she moaned against his lips.

It was too much

Ricky knew it wasn't true - just a figment of his imagination stemming from all the anger and hurt he was feeling - but it felt real. And so his fists clenched again and with every ounce of force, he started to hit harder, and harder, and harder until all that was able to be heard throughout the small room was the pounding and crackles of the bag mixed in with a strangled hiccupping sob.

WA-PAM!

WA-PAM!

WA-PAM!

---

"Ash-ee... um - um... is daddy - is daddy jus go-in see mommy?" John questioned shyly, pausing from the battle between Batman and Spiderman he and Robbie were immersed in. The torn photograph was lying by his feet, having to keep it within his eyesight since he had picked it up from the hallway. Ashley had found some tape and tried to patch it the best she could, but Amy's face was still messed up from the position of the tear.

Giving her niece a baby puff from her palm, "I don't know, John," Ash answered honestly, reaching behind Emma to give his shoulder a gentle squeeze, "Your daddy loves you, you know that, right? He loves you both so much." He stayed silent, nodding as he gripped the Batman figure in his hand.

"Ashley's right." A voice chimed in from the doorway.

"Dadada!" Emma squealed, flailing her wrists while pumping her legs against the blanket they were all sharing, staring up at her favorite person.

Ricky smiled down at her, bending while opening and closing his hands quickly, eliciting another squeal as her breathing quickened and her little arms shot up. Once situated in his arms, she laid her small head on his shoulder. Ashley smiled at the sight, touching her niece's tiny fingers with her thumb. His eyes lowered, "I owe you an apology."

Her voice was soft, "You don't have -"

He cut her dismissal off, "Yes I do. I shouldn't have snapped at you for caring." Sighing sadly, "But, Ash, things between me and Amy are very complicated, and... and talking about it and my feelings is..."

"I get it." Accepting with a nod, and looking up to meet his eyes, "I'm sorry about my sister. I really am."

John was standing by his aunt's side, lightly grasping onto her jeans. Glancing down, Ricky shifted Emma's weight and used his free arm to gently grab the sleeve of his son's shirt to pull him closer, "Thanks for being with them - John missed you."

Her nephew's eyes peered up at her, letting go of her pant leg to shift to his dad's, "Yeh, it's been awhile a while I really got some time with him... he's really growing up fast." Ashley smiled widely at them both nestled against him. A small twinge of sadness caused the smile to wane a fraction: remembering how John used to greet her with a gummy or two-teethed smile every time she passed by his crib. And how he only knew two words while the rest of the time he simply just squealed or screamed. Now he was able to convey things and have conversations; he didn't scream nearly as much, and when he smiled, she saw some specks of her sister in it. He was her sister's son, so why was her sister pushing him away?

"Yeah, he is. They both are. Too quickly..." Ricky agreed, taking a step past her to move to the couch. John snuggled into his arm, placing a small kiss on his sister's head.

She smiled again, watching them. They only had each other.

"Call when you back in Italy?" His brow was raised slightly, his statement more of a question.

Nodding, Ashley stepped forward, engulfing her nephew in a hug, "I love you, kid" She whispered into his ear, gripping him tighter when she felt his hands grasp the back of her shirt. John was afraid she'd leave him too, and it broke her heart to know he was in pain like this as he sadly sniffled when she pulled away, "Hey, I'm not leaving forever" Tousling what was left of his spiked blonde locks, before moving onto his sister who had gone to town chomping on two of her fingers: the saliva dribbling from her chin, soaking spots of his shirt. Wanting to avoid it, she tousled Emma's curls and placed a kiss on her forehead. Emma's muffled babble as a response caused Ashley to chuckle. "Send me pictures of them every once and while?" She asked, choking back a few tears as she said her goodbyes.

Ricky nodded, shifting Emma to sit on the cushion and rising to stand, moving in for a hug, "Of course, I will. You be safe, okay?"

She nodded against his shoulder and broke away, taking her brother's hand, and giving one final wave goodbye as she shut the door behind her.

From the couch he heard his son sniffle again, rubbing a fist into his eye. "Ashley had to go back to Italy, buddy. She'll be back." He comforted, wiping a tear from John's cheek with the pad of his thumb.

---

The leaves started to fall, floating freely from the branches of the trees above the bench she was sitting on.

She couldn't breathe, fighting the August humidity for an inkling of air to put into her lungs. Everything was crashing down around her and she was within the wreckage; quicksand pooling at her feet to slowly pull her down into the deepest pit of the earth - Where she knew belonged.

Was it all a mistake?

"Sworry!" A child's squeaky voice hollered, hopping crookedly over to where she stood.

A blue ball was by her boot, it must have been what the little boy was coming after. Picking it up, Amy held it out, giving the child a small smile as he put his hands on it, "That's a pretty blue ball, is this yours?" He nodded, the curls in his blonde hair bouncing off his shoulders. "Can you catch it?" He nodded again, taking a step back and putting his arms out. It flew through the space between them before it landed inside his open arms, a wide grin etched on his face. "Whoa, look at you!" She cheered, clapping to boost his enthusiasm. He looked to be about John's age; his hair was longer but his height was smaller than John was. There was a sparkle in his blue eyes as he looked up at her.

"Olly! Oliver! I'm so sorry for disturbing you, he got away from me again." A woman shouted out, slightly winded as she gripped the phone in her hand, and nudged the back of his curls with the other, "Olly, we don't need to bother this nice lady-"

Shaking her head dismissively, Amy still held the smile on her face, "No, no, it's okay. I um, I have a little guy around his age too..."

The woman's eyes widened a little, pursing her lips and looking out onto the rest of the park uncomfortably, "We really should get going... come on, Olly"

"Bye-bye!" He waved at her, bouncing the ball and walking away down the remainder of the sidewalk.

She waved back, waiting until they were out of sight before sitting back on the bench. With her head in her hands, she sobbed roughly, choking on the lump in her throat and the tears rolling down her cheeks.

It was a mistake. All of it.

After another 10 minutes of crying silently to herself, Amy noticed a shiny speck of something sticking to the inside of her boot.

The boots were fairly new, having only been worn once or twice since Ricky had bought them for her for Valentine's Day after they'd brought Emma home.

She was being a nightmare to him, with the constant mood swings and being pulled in every direction. It was too much for her at that time.

"John!" She scolded sternly, peeling him away from the infant crying atop the mattress, "I said stay away from her face, buddy. You're sick. We don't want her to get sick too, okay?"

"I no want her to c-wy..." He pouted, lowering his head in shame at being scolded.

John was being oddly clingy since he'd gone back to daycare last week. Oftentimes circling Emma to make sure she was awake, or see why she was crying. Sometimes he'd ignore her and go on with his day, but others, they'd find him laying his head on her bassinet or holding her hand when she was in her swing, or just staring at her for no reason at all. It was sweet and made Amy happy that they were making progress in the transition to a full-fledged family of four.

Amy's lips pursed into a small pout, touching his arm, "Babies cry, John, it's okay. Emma's okay. She's going to cry a lot because she can't talk yet. She needs to cry to let Mommy know what's wrong. Okay? She's fine, I promise." She reassured, running her hand through his messy hair.

He'd been battling a cold for a few days and Ricky didn't want him going to daycare for fear that he would contract something worse and give it to the baby. Then again, he also didn't want him going to daycare period until she went back and they took Emma there permanently: not liking the idea of him being there alone, or putting more stress on the ladies there if they had to deal with him. Amy tried to convince him he was fine, but lately, all they did was argue about something and it usually lead to her passing out on the bed with the baby, or Ricky in John's bed to try to get some sleep since he was the only one working.

John sniffled hard, needing a tissue, "O-k"

The door opened slowly, the tip of his boot hitting the bookshelf.

"Daddy's home!" She cheered enthusiastically at him, scooping Emma off the mattress and into her arms.

"Hey," Ricky greeted back, putting his bag on the floor by the coat rack, holding his hands out to relieve her of their still-crying daughter.

Accepting, Amy stood, sliding her into his arms with a relieved breath, "I really need to pee!"

He chuckled at her sprint away, craning his neck down, he pecked his lips to his daughter's forehead repeatedly, trying to calm her down. Glancing up, he noticed his son watching them. "Hey, buddy - how you feeling?" Grabbing a tissue from the box by the bed, Ricky put it to John's face, instructing him to blow before putting his palm to his forehead. "Think we should send him to the nursery again? Wouldn't he be better here with you and Emma?"

Amy walked back into the room, giving a small shrug, "his fever broke yesterday, it's just a cold. Ricky, we talked about this -"

"Yeah I know, but he's doing better now. He doesn't wake her up anymore, or try to shove her away. He's making progress. It's better for him here!"

"And I think it's better for him there! He's been good for a week, but what then? He wants to go so just let him go!"

"No!" John protested through congestion, shaking his father away, and crawling to the foot of the bed to rise on his knees, "I wa-na st-ay wit da bay-be, mommy!"

Ricky cooked his head at his wife, "told you."

Blowing a breath from her cheeks, she rolled her eyes at his win, craning her neck up to the ceiling at the loud wailing of their daughter, and his failed attempts of shushing her cries with gentle bounces. "She's hungry," she stated flatly, taking a seat on the bed, lifting her shirt, and pulling his pillow to her lap. He nodded silently, sliding her into her arms: taking a step back when he saw her wince as their daughter latched hard onto her swollen right breast.

Amy kept her gaze on Emma and the little slurping sounds she was making with each painful gulp, not noticing how John was just staring at them; mesmerized in wonder at what the little being in his mommy's arms was doing.

His hand inched closer until they were on his sister's small head, fingers lightly grazing her small amount of brown curls. His eyes were curious, a confused look on his face as he asked through a low mumble, "wat mommy do-in?" His forefinger touched Emma's nose, causing her to fidget and detach at the tickle; the milk on her lips dribbled down her chin as Amy's breast leaked the excess she couldn't finish, onto her face.

"John!" Ricky frowned, hastily removing him from the bed, "you can't disturb Emma when she's eating, buddy. Mommy has to feed her, and then she'll snuggle with you."

"You do it!" John shook his head sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. The jealousy was back.

Giving her a look she knew all too well - the 'aren't you going to help me out here' look, she raised her brow and he released a sigh, setting his attention on the toddler again. "I can't do that. Daddy's aren't equipped to feed babies the way mommies are, John."

"Why?" He sniffled, rubbing his eye. He was tired and was on the verge of a tantrum: the hard sniffle the dead giveaway the screaming was about to start.

"Well..." Ricky paused, slightly uncomfortable at having to explain breastfeeding to a 3-year-old. But trudging on, he grabbed his hand, "When mommies have babies their bodies produce a special milk that only they can give their babies. Some babies take the milk in bottles so the daddy's and the big brothers or sisters or anyone else can feed them, but some babies - like Emma, don't. When Emma doesn't take the bottle Daddy gives her, Mommy feeds her with her body. Mommy has these... special... parts and they uh - they uh supply milk to Emma."

John licked his lips, blinking a few times at the information he was being told before scrunching his nose at a sneeze that didn't come. "Mommy mlk, me too?"

Shaking his head quickly, "No. No, you're a big boy, buddy, only babies get mommy's milk. It helps them grow big and strong like you are now." Poking his tiny triceps, Ricky chuckled, "lemme see your muscles." Obeying, John gritted his baby teeth, holding up his toddler arms. Amusing him, he touched his finger to his skin, "Ohh, see you don't need mommy's milk. You're already strong!"

The answer seemed to suffice because he turned to them to also show her, "Wook, mommy - I swong!" Amy nodded back, positioning Emma against her shoulder and patting her back gently.

They spent the next couple of minutes comparing their muscles like boys do and play wrestling - John mainly trying to tackle and pin Ricky while he just laid there with minimal effort needed. It was cute how good he was with him; how things just came so effortlessly to him like that.

Hearing the squeaky hiccup of their daughters burp, Amy rose from the bed, laying her in the bassinet to sleep off her meal, and went into the kitchen.

Noticing, he got quiet, peeling John off of his torso, "Hey buddy, wanna watch Emma go to sleep while I talk to mommy for a minute?" The boy nodded, springing off of him and over to the bassinet. "Just watch her - don't wake her up, okay?" He nodded again, grinning at her coos.

She was standing by the sink, palms flat against the countertop when he snuck in and wrapped his arms around her waist, nudging her neck with his nose before placing soft pecks along it. She sighed at his need for affection, knowing that their non-existent sex life was grating on him. She just didn't feel comfortable yet. Aside from literally birthing a baby, almost dying because of it, and just getting out of the hospital - she felt gross. Nothing fit like it should have, and her body wasn't bouncing back as it had with John. She was pudgier, and her boobs were bigger, making them sag further than what she wanted, not to mention they leaked constantly. She wasn't sleeping which made her aggravated, and her eyes sunken, and she was pretty sure she hadn't showered in three days at that point.

All that didn't exactly equate to the desire to let him hump her. In fact, it was the exact opposite: she wanted to put as much between them as she could.

"Not now." Amy broke free of his hold, biting her thumbnail. It wasn't fair to him, and she knew that, but she couldn't be into sex with him until she didn't look, and feel, like a blobfish.

Ricky sighed under his breath, "Really, Amy? This again?"

The hard shake of his head, while he squeezed the tension from his neck, caused her hormones to take over and the tears to run down her face. "I'm sorry, okay!" She quietly countered, not wanting John to overhear, "I just - I... I ca -" covering her face as she started to cry harder.

Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her hair, "I know. I'm not pushing you. But Ames... we have to talk about this - about this issue, you're not letting me know about. What is going on? It's not just the sex - what aren't you telling me? Why don't you want to be with me?" The last part showed emotion. He was hurt.

"I do want to be with you!" Letting out a hard sniffle, "I just don't like myself right now! I'm fa, and cranky, and hormonal, and - and ugly!" She choked into his shirt, "I'm gross and leaking breastmilk everywhere..." squeezing her eyes shut.

"Is that it? That's why you've been keeping me at arm's length?" With another hard sniffle, she nodded. "Ames..." His voice became soft, pulling back to look into her eyes, "I don't care about that. You're not fat, or ugly - and who cares if you leak breastmilk? I would too if I had to carry those things around all day." She chuckled, which made him chuckle too, "I think you're beautiful, you know that?"

"Really?" She squeaked through a wobbly lip, keeping her eyes on his.

He nodded, pecking her nose with his lips, "Always. I love you."

Tipping her lip up, she nuzzled her head into his chest, taking in the calm of his heartbeat, "I love you too." He was too good to her, and she loved him so much more than he'd ever know.

"What would you say to my parents coming over tonight and watching the kids so we could go to dinner?" Ricky asked a minute later, stroking her back gently with his fingertips. She sighed, loosening her grip. "And before you say no, just hear me out - you need to get out of the house, and it's a free meal. A childless, hot, free meal that I don't have to cook, and you don't have to fight through grabby hands to eat."

Her eyebrow raised, the 'free meal' part getting her attention, "How would it be free?" His silence, and the way he looked away for a split second telling her, "my dad?"

He looked like a deer in the headlights. "Don't get upset, he was just trying to help."

"Help you get laid?" Amy scoffed, pushing away from him.

"No, no it's not like that!" Catching her elbow, "Amy your dad is worried about you. So is everyone else. You don't leave the apartment, and if you do you're never wanting to be around anyone. It's not healthy to lock yourself up here all day with a screaming baby. Especially after -" He didn't get a chance to finish as she broke free from his hold and stomped off into the living room. He sighed, "I didn't mean to upset you."

Knowing he'd gone into unmentioned territory because she hated to talk about her days in the hospital, and the depression diagnosis she refused to talk about because it wouldn't help matters going forward, she growled, "Yeah well you did!"

A loud noise erupted from the bassinet, followed by an odor that caused John to gag and hold his nose, declaring rather loudly, "Mommy, Em-ma pooted!"

"Daddy will get that." Amy stated nonchalantly, gesturing to the now shrieking baby jerking her arms inside the bassinet, "Right, Daddy?"

Finding it best not to argue, both for his sanity and the emotional well-being of the boy playing with his lip beside him, Ricky nodded but frowned, grumbling out an annoyed "Sure. Happy freaking Valentine's Day to me!"

His comment caught her attention, head snapped up quickly. Wait, what? It was Valentine's Day? No, that couldn't be right. Pulling out her phone, her mouth fell open at the date - February 14th.

Now Amy felt like an ass. Ricky wasn't trying to get her to sleep with him, he was trying to get her to celebrate with him because he loved her.

He disappeared with their baby into the bedroom, shutting the door.

"Hey, John, wanna do Mommy a favor?" Springing up John nodded vigorously, grasping onto her arm, "Okay, you see daddy's bag over there?" Pointing to the coat rack where his gray backpack was lying lazily against the wood, "I need you to bring it to me. I want to make a card for daddy." She could have easily done the task herself, but he was at that age where he wanted to be helpful, and given how he was feeling left out a lot, she let him help with even the smallest things. It made him feel special. And Ricky wouldn't scold him for going through his bag. Win-win.

Dragging it by the handle, John lifted it up to her, accepting her "good job," and the high-five that came with it. Watching her rifle through his daddy's bag until she found some paper and started writing on it. When they heard a click and the door started to open, Amy quickly ripped the page from the notebook, and shoved it back inside the bag - but it didn't budge because something was blocking it. Something that looked like a dark box. Trying again, she shoved past the box and zipped it up just enough that nothing would fall out, and handed it back to him.

But it wasn't fast enough as he walked back into the room with a freshly changed baby, and a confused look on his face, "Why does John have my backpack?"

Uh oh, she was caught. Thinking quickly, she made up a lame lie, "He uh - I was just measuring him to see what size we should get him for when he starts school in the fall."

"Uh-huh." Ricky clicked his tongue, seeing right through it, "Well why don't we do that when we take him to get one? Bring that to me, John."

Obeying, John walked over and handed it to him. It was strange the way he took it though: normally he would just toss it against the wall, but he didn't. He hung it up on the coat rack, where he knew John couldn't reach it. Why? What was in it?

That's when it clicked. The box. The box was what he didn't want her to see - but why?

Amy sighed, "Hey about dinner -"

Ricky shook his head, interrupting her sentence, "Forget it. It was dumb. I'm not hungry." Putting the baby back into the bassinet, covering her legs with a blanket, and putting the pacifier into her mouth before pecking her forehead, "I'm just gonna shower and fix a sandwich or something. Long day."

He turned on his heels as she sprung off the mattress, "Before you do - here," handing him a folded-up piece of paper, "I know it's nothing but I -" She started to tear up, "I'm sorry I forgot it was Valentine's Day..." hiccupping, "I'm just so tired all the time, all the days blur together."

Unfolding the paper, his lip tipped up at the cheesy poem: "Roses are red. Violets are blue. You're amazing, and I love you. Love your beautiful blobfish with leaky boobs."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Me too," tucking the paper into his front jeans pocket, he walked over to the bag, unzipping it, and pulled the box out. "Happy Valentines Day, Amy"

Caught off guard, her eyes widened, quickly opening the box to reveal a set of shiny, black boots. "Ricky - they're amazing!" Taking them out to admire and holding them up, "Thank you." He pecked her lips briefly. She frowned, "Well now I feel horrible. I didn't get you anything!"

He raised a brow, "Oh, this poem doesn't count?"

Rolling her eyes, "Ha. Ha. I'm serious!"

He chuckled, "It's okay." Pecking her lips again, "I'm gonna go shower."

"Wait!" Amy grabbed his wrist, trailing her fingers along the part where his watch was, her voice seductive, as her eyes gestured to the hallway, "Maybe I could..."

"Really?" Ricky smirked, "You sure you're ready for that?" She nodded but bit her lip apprehensively, signaling to him that she was only doing this to make him happy. Shaking his head, he traced her lip with his thumb, "Then no. I appreciate it - believe me - but not until you're absolutely ready. This is on your terms, okay? I want you to be completely comfortable."

Her eyes were soft, "... but - but I want to do something for you... you got me these -" raising the boots up, "And all I gave you was a cheesy poem. Isn't there anything?"

Sucking in his bottom lip, the smirk on Ricky's face deepened, his eyes looking down at where his thumb was, "We'll... maybe there is... one thing..."

The shift in his voice, as it became huskier, and his eyes kept their gaze on her lips gave her the answer: he wanted her to go down on him.

It must have meant a lot to him, or he just really needed some kind of sex because he knew how much Amy disliked giving him oral. Not that she didn't love him, or wanted to please him in any way she could, but because it was awkward and she didn't think she was good at it.

Pursing her lips, she pointed to the bathroom, not wanting to give a direct answer to his ask, "You should um - you should take your shower"

His other hand grazed her chest, "Care to join me?"

As much as Amy wanted that, the sensation in her breasts, and the two children across from them, prevented it. "And do what with them?" The two wet circles encompassed her shirt front, disgusting her, and making her grimace. "Go - go think of me during your shower."

He chuckled, "Oh, believe me, I will. I always do."

Her mouth fell agape at his confession, "Ricky!" Not that she didn't already know it, but to hear him say it aloud, just made her boobs leak that much more, and then start to imagine it.

"Like you don't do it too! I know your baths are sometimes longer than others - thinking of me, perhaps?" He countered, kissing her with a bit more passion than they'd done in awhile, and leaving just enough to know she'd be craving more.

Amy scoffed, "You're something else."

Ricky nodded, giving her butt a gentle tap and a cocky wink, "I'll see you afterward - for my gift."

A twig being snapped by a jogger nearby broke the memory, the speck in her boot still shining against the sunlight peeking through the trees. It was a gum wrapper folded up into 2 pieces.

Taking it out slowly, she held it up, flipping it over in her fingers, before carefully unfolding it to reveal three words, etched in blue ink, in his handwriting.

"We're still here..."

The piece dropped to the ground, hands shaking as she gasped through a hiccup, realizing that he must have slipped that in her boot after she'd fallen asleep.

Ricky knew she wouldn't be there to read it when he woke up. He anticipated it. He'd been so vulnerable with her, shared their bed, his body, with her - all while knowing it wasn't enough: she was going to take another piece of his already broken heart with her.

Her heart was cracking more; feeling the pokes of the shards breaking off further. She'd ruined everything. Everything was a mistake.

With trembling fingers, Amy dialed the only number she hoped wouldn't hang up. The only person who might have just a bit of sympathy for what she was going through. "Please... please..." She begged into the air, through tears

It rang three times before a voice answered, "Hello?... hello... Amy? Hello?" She couldn't speak; her words frozen in her throat. "I'm hanging up now." The voice shouted.

Swallowing quickly, Amy choked "... I - I made a t-terrible m-mistake..."

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O.M.G! What will happen now? Stay tuned... ;)