It's the middle of the night. The apartment is quiet, the room is dark and the air is still and crisp. Abby is unable to sleep; she's been tossing and turning for the past hour and a half and sleep just seems to not be on the horizon. For the last couple of days, all she could think about is Jay and the underwear that she found in his hamper. Her mind found itself envisioning what the woman may look like; was she tall or short, skinny or fat; did she have brunette or blonde hair? How old was she? What was her name? Did she have a family? A husband? Kids? Abby sits up in bed when the thoughts keep coming; she can't stop the invasion of words and scenarios from flashing through her mind.

How many times have they slept together?

Has he seen her recently?

When was the last time they saw each other?

Abby knew that sleep wouldn't come until she had answers to her questions. She wasn't going to lose her man, not without a fight. He was worth it. Abby slipped out of bed and tiptoed over to his phone plugged in and resting on the end table. If he was still communicating with her then there would be proof. She just needed to know. She needed to be able to relax and the only way she'll be able to do that is by getting answers. She takes a seat on the floor, not bothering to grab the phone and leave out of the bedroom because she has nothing to hide.

The brightness on his phone is at its highest setting, forcing her to lower it so she doesn't blind herself. She leans forward onto her knees to carefully grab his hand and press his thumb against the tab to unlock the phone. He shifts. He groans. He doesn't wake up. Abby sits back down and goes straight to his email app, finding that his only messages were a collection of spam, ads and correspondence between himself and his job. There was nothing of substance, leading towards her going to his text messages, only noticing the names of males who based on what the topic of conversation is seems to be coworkers.

What if he deleted the text messages to this mysterious woman?

Abby glanced up to look at the back of his head. He's absolutely exhausted. His job is taxing, and his boss has no problem overworking him. She looks back down at the text, clicking on different people's name, reading their conversations to see if maybe Jay had mentioned something to one of them. But, there was nothing. Jay was smart; he wouldn't leave a trail behind if he was currently seeing her. She goes to his phone logs, checking his voicemails, the unknown numbers and the programed numbers that littered his call history.

There was absolutely nothing. Maybe it was a one-time thing? Maybe it wasn't? It's all Abby can think of even as she puts his phone back and gets off the floor.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Her movements are halted as she makes her way back to her side of the bed. She was caught. Busted.

"…I don't know what you're talking about," she plays dumb. She avoids eye contact as she crawls back into bed. He's facing her. He's glaring at her. She ignores it.

"I'm not stupid Abby," he sits up in bed, the covers shift and move with him, "I know you were looking through my phone. Did you find what you were looking for?"

She sits up, "Is there something I should have found?"

"Have you done this before?" He tilts his head and struggles to inspect her facial expression in the darkness of night.

"No," she lies with such ease.

"Have you done it before you found the underwear?"

"No," she lies again. He sees through it all.

"You've never trusted me."

"I have trust issues," she admits, shrugging her shoulders, "and she's given me more reason to have them." And there Abby goes blaming everyone but him. He doesn't even know much about the woman he slept with and Abby knows even less about her than he does yet for some reason she's convinced herself that this woman, this stranger is the cause of her trust issues.

It was mutually agreed upon by both of them to take a break because sometimes couples need time apart to reconsider and reevaluate their relationship. This time apart didn't mean they broke up, it didn't grant him a hall pass to go and hook up with whomever he pleases. Taking a break simply meant exactly what the phrase implies yet the saying is purposely ambiguous and since they never listed the terms and conditions of this break, he could argue that perhaps he didn't break any of their relationship rules, but the way the guilt fills him up inside, he knows those are only words and whether they were true or not, it wouldn't take away from the shame he felt in breaking her heart, -whether she admitted that he did or not, he knows he did.

"Instead of snooping through my phone, how about you just ask me?" He's too tired to continue arguing. It's been a busy week, a stressful one and the last thing he needed was to spend the precious hours of the early morning in an argument.

"Sorry," she says in a whisper; her low voice fills the silent room, "It won't happen again." He's willing to drop it, to overlook it all in the hopes that she doesn't do it again.

But, it's barely three days later, when it's his day off from work and he gets out of the shower to find her not in their bedroom, and his phone no longer on the end table. She must have found out his password somehow. He doesn't say anything, not on an empty stomach, and he chooses to gather his thoughts while he's out picking up breakfast. He walks to the corner deli, and he tries to come up with some sort of justification for her invading his privacy. He tries. And maybe she's a bit justified because he technically cheated on her? But, if she doesn't trust him, if she doesn't believe him when he says it was a one-time thing, it was with a stranger that he'll probably never see again, then why be with him?

Jay picks up their breakfast and he takes his time walking home. The year is approaching its end, with it currently being early November and it was one of his favorite times of the year, but he couldn't truly enjoy autumn, the season seemed to fly on by with how busy he's been with work and with Abby. Sometimes dating her felt like a job, one he didn't get paid to do.

By the time he got back to his apartment, he didn't enter right away. He stood on the other side of his door and started at the knob. Maybe if he's lucky, they'll get another case and Voight will call him in? But, that's not the way to think, that's a horrible thing to hope for because if there's another case then that means that there has been a crime and possible victims. He wouldn't wish for that even if it meant he got a break from Abby and the inevitable conversation they would have to have about her snooping. So with a final breath, he unlocks the door and quietly enters.

"Abs," he calls out when he doesn't see her in the living room after he set the bag of food down on the coffee table. The television is on, wasting electricity and he turns it off.

"…in the bedroom," she calls out. And since the bedroom door is closed, her voice is a bit low and muffled by the closed door separating the two of them.

He kicks off his shoes and goes back to the door to line them up. He's hungry, but he knows that to eat in peace, he'll need to talk to her. He forces himself to move, to drag his feet on over to the bedroom and even though this is his home, his name is on the lease and he pays all of the bills, he does knock on the door and waits for her response before he cracks it open, "What are you doing," the confusion is evident on his face because he has no idea what she's doing.

"Throwing these out," she lifts the trash bag up into the air as if he should know what's inside of it. He's confused because he doesn't know what's in the bag, but he can kind of assume. Ever since the bedframe came and was put together in the bedroom, with the mattress added, he pushed the air mattress to the side of the room, choosing to let the air out of it and put it away another day. Maybe that's what's in the bag? Maybe she accidentally put a hole in it and had to throw it away? Maybe that's not what's in the bag and he just thought it was since the air mattress was no longer in the bedroom? He doesn't want to guess, not when the answer is only a few feet away and stuffed into the large trash bag.

He waits, hoping that she'll just tell him what's inside, but she doesn't, it takes him walking into the room and looking inside of the bag to know what was in it.

Jay's mouth opens but nothing comes out. With the trash bag still in his hand, he sits at the edge of his bed as he stares into the opened bag. He's quiet, even when she comes to take a seat next to him, "I couldn't stare at them anymore," she tells him, and before he can respond, she starts talking again, "Every time I look at them, I think about what happened and even though I've washed them over and over again, I can't stop picturing what happened and I still have this feeling that her scent and her DNA is still all over them."

It was the sheets that were on the air mattress the night he slept with another woman.

It was also the deflated air mattress that he was on during the last round of sex that night.

He reached inside and pulled a portion of the mattress out, "How did it get a large gash in it?" Even if he wanted to keep it, he couldn't. It's pointless now. It's absolutely useless. A large gash couldn't be repaired and it wouldn't be able to hold no amount of air in it.

"I don't know," she answers with a shrug, "Are you mad at me?" She reaches over to release the air mattress from his grip and she watches as that part of it falls back into the trash bag. She stares into the side of his face, waiting for a response, any response. And her hand comes up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, curling it around her finger as she stares into the side of his face, still waiting, still wondering what's going through that beautiful mind of his.

Despite the amount of time that went by, Jay doesn't answer her question though. He chooses instead to pick his battles and this isn't one that he wants to fight. He pushes her hand from behind his head and rises up to his feet. He gets up and he leaves the room because he's hungry and the last thing he wanted was for his food to get cold. He just needed a moment, a break because truly out of all the things he could be mad about, that wasn't high up on the list. Those were the same sheets and the same air mattress he slept with her on and he could somehow understand her need to dispose of them because of the constant reminders they gave her. He's just happy that she never asked where they slept together. She just assumed –correctly- that it was on the air mattress since technically at the time he had no other furniture. If she knew they had a round in the elevator and on the balcony then she'd probably want to move, if she knew they had sex in the backseat of his truck she'd probably want him to get rid of it.

If he's going to choose his battles then this one he'll wave the white flag for because he doesn't feel like fighting about that, not when he can kind of understand her motive for it. Kind of.

"Did you get me anything to eat?" She pokes her head out of the bedroom, smiling widely as if their relationship is fine, as if they're living in bliss. He doesn't know how she can just pretend like everything is okay, like everything is perfect in their lives.

"Yeah," he reaches into the bag and pulls out a breakfast sandwich for her, "I got your favorite."

She drags the trash bag out of the bedroom, ties it up and drops it by the front door before walking into the living room, her bare feet padding against the floor until she flops down into the seat next to him, "…thanks babe," his face flinches at the nickname while she takes the sandwich from him, "I am starving so this is right on time, you're always so considerate," she unwraps her sandwich and takes a bite, "Oh and you were right, this is my favorite. I love that you know so much about me. You're the best," She leans over, and even with her mouth full, she presses a closed mouth kiss against his cheek.

Jay reaches into the bag to grab his breakfast sandwich. He needs to eat, especially if he's going to talk to Abby because the last thing he needs to do is speak out of anger sparked by hunger. He's done that before and it isn't pretty.

"You were gone for some time," she mentions, reaching her hand inside of the bag to grab one of the mini hash browns, "I thought you said you were walking. It's right down the block. What took you so long?" She eats it and then reaches inside to grab another.

He shrugs, "I walked slowly." And that's not the answer she was looking for so she simply responds with a follow-up question, "Did you run into anyone while you were out?"

"Nope," he grabs the remote and turns on the television, hoping the noise from whatever show is on would provide enough of a distraction to stop her from talking.

It doesn't, "What are you doing tomorrow? I figured we can do something together."

"I have to work," and for once he's happy about that. He'd rather deal with Voight than Abby.

"How long are you going to be there?"

"…my usual hours," he turns the volume up on the television, hoping that gives her a hint to be quiet. It doesn't, well, if it does, she doesn't take it.

"…and then where are you going?"

He mutes the television, "Abigail," he says solemnly, and she knows he's serious because he used her whole first name, "if there's something you want to say or ask then just straight up ask it, don't beat around the bush or talk around whatever point you're trying to make. Just get to it please so we can cut through the bull and I can get back to eating in peace."

Abby sits the rest of her sandwich down onto the wrapper. She wipes the tips of her fingers against her jeans and she swallows down the bite she had just taken, "I just…" she looks up to meet his eyes, "I wanted to make sure you weren't going to see her again," she admitted honestly and Jay appreciates that because now they can actually get somewhere in the conversation. He reaches to grab a mini hash brown from inside of the bag before popping it into his mouth.

"You don't have to worry about that happening," he tries to reassure.

But, she needs a little more than that; it's not enough, "I want to believe you, I really do Jay, but it's hard. And I trust you, I do, you have to believe that I do, but I don't want her anywhere around you because it's her that I don't trust. She's going to try something, I know it, that's how women like her are; they'll try anything, that's how they operate."

"…but you keep forgetting one major component in this scenario you've envisioned in your head Abs, I don't know her. I don't know anything about her."

Abby runs her hand through her hair and sits up, her back straightening up to make it appear as if she was bigger than she actually is, "I know sleeping with her was an accident," it wasn't; he didn't accidentally fall into bed with another woman and have sex with her more than once in one night but if it helps Abby to believe that then he'll stay quiet, she doesn't need to know every single detail of that night, "It was an accident but that's not an excuse," he agrees with that last part, "and I wish I could hate you, but I can't," and that's new to him because ever since the day she confronted him about the panties and the days that followed with her asking questions about that night and him filling her in as much as he felt comfortable with, he always thought she was floating around on a cloud of denial, a smoke screen blocking any sense of clarity, but maybe she processed more of it than she originally had him believe, maybe she wasn't completely naïve, "I can't hate you because I love you too much and I have to tell myself that it's her fault."

"You don't have to tell yourself anything."

"…but I do," she immediately shouts, catching him off guard and she notices, forcing her to take a deep breath to calm herself down, "I do because you're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I'm not losing you over something so ridiculous. You've changed my life for the better. You've opened my eyes to a world filled with love and happiness and you're the first person I've ever loved, the man I want to spend the rest of my life with and to keep the strength in our relationship I do have to tell myself that. I love you, Jay and that means I have to be willing to fight for you. And I'll always fight for you, always. Just like you'll always fight for me."

A long silence settles in the air until it's broken by their food wrappers as they resume eating. He unmutes the television and both of their attention is drawn to the rerun of whatever cop show is on. He never broached the subject of her snooping on his phone, but that's only because he knows he has nothing to hide and if it brings her a peace of mind then maybe he'll let her continue to do it and think she's getting away with it. Maybe?

His phone buzzes on the coffee table, "Who is it?" She asks in such a sweet and casual tone.

And maybe he should raise the subject because he doesn't think he can tolerate her asking about whom he's texting every time he receives a message, "It's my coworker." He doesn't specify which one because she doesn't know any of them personally so he knows it won't make a difference. He doesn't talk about work with her, instead choosing to bottle up all of his frustrations and accomplishments in order to keep her as separate from his professional life as possible. Jay skims the text message on his phone.

Dawson is asking him if he wants to go out for drinks tonight but he honestly doesn't have the energy to hang out especially since he has work the next day. His partner has two kids so he can barely understand how Dawson has the energy to go out.

She squints and tilts her head to the side, "Male or female?" She looks like she doesn't believe him when he says it's his coworker; as if that's something he would lie about, that's ridiculous. And she kind of makes the decision for him, -he's going to bring the subject up.

"If this is your way of fighting for me then you're not doing a good job of it," he balls up his food wrapper after shooting off an answer to Dawson's text, "a part of fighting for me is trusting me and going through my phone and questioning every move I make is the complete opposite of trust, do you think I'm stupid? Do you think I don't notice you sneaking around and going through my phone? I'm not an idiot Abigail, I notice, and it needs to stop," he reaches into the bag and grabs one of the mini hash browns. His eyes are drawn to the television and even though he can feel her staring into the side of his face, he says nothing else.

Abby takes a deep breath. She doesn't want to lose him. She can't lose him. She reaches out for his hand, the one that is empty and she wraps both of her hands around it, "I'm sorry. I don't want you to think that I don't trust you, Jay, because I do. I trust you a whole lot. I trust you more than anyone in this world. It's the loose women out there that I don't trust."