“Good… it was good.” It’s a lie. It was terrible. Adam thinks he can acquire this prostitute business now, and I think he’s losing his damn mind. Annaliese will have his balls for this.

“That’s not very convincing.” She grabs a beer and props herself on the counter. So. Damn. Sexy.

“Mmm… yeah.” I’m not able to keep myself away from her. I’m like a moth to a flame with her, but with her I know I won’t get burnt. “How was your day?” I ask, running my hands up her thighs.

“I met with Dr. T today,” she says nonchalantly, and takes a swig of beer.

“Yeah?” I stop, and watch her eyes travel to mine. She’s never talked about her therapy sessions, and I know better than to pry, but I’ve always wondered what happens behind those closed doors.

“Mhmm.” She takes another drink of her beer and grins at me when I narrow my eyes at her. “What?” She stops, the bottle so close to her lips that I have the fleeting thought that I wish I were that bottle.

Then Hannah’s laughter rings through the room, and I remember why I can’t be right now.

“That’s good,” I say, clearing my throat and backing away. Don’t pry, Benton. She’ll talk when she wants to.

“You’re not going to ask about it?”

“You’ll talk when you’re ready,” I say, starting to grab food to make for dinner.

“I’m ready,” she whispers.

I immediately stop what I’m doing, and turn to look at her. She’s ready?

“Great, babe. That’s… that’s fantastic.” I say, walking back over to her. “Like, right now? Or later? Or just… whenever?” I’m not used to talking out feelings, Carly didn’t really ever want to do that, so I haven’t had much work in that area, but I’ll do it for Gabby. I’ll do it for us.

“Later, Benton,” she says, laughing. “Right now, we need to cook. And you need to show me around this place.”

Show her around? She’s been here hundreds of times it seems… she should know where the necessities are. I must be looking at her strangely, because she laughs and slaps my arm.

“So, when I move in, I’m not totally lost.”

My jaw drops and heartbeat quickens.

When she moves in. She’s moving in.

She’s moving in!

“Seriously?!” I laugh and smash my lips to hers, unable to hide the joy those words just brought me. “For real?”

“Yeah… I think it’d be good for both of us. And Hannah needs someone to teach her how to be a fashionista at an early age. I can help with that,” she says with a wink. Pressing my forehead to hers, I sigh.

“Fuck, Gabby… you had me worried for a while there.”

“Why?” she grins, cocking her head.

“I honestly thought you were going to try to break this off. With the way you reacted to me outside to the way you’ve just seemed a little put off lately… I don’t know.” I shrug, backing up.

“I’m sorry, babe… I was watching you guys on the playground earlier, and I didn’t know you had made it to my car so fast. It was beautiful, seeing you and her out there, so carefree.” She scoots off the counter and wraps her arms around me. “And I’m sorry I’ve seemed weird lately. I’m learning all these new coping mechanisms when things start to get too rough… when the flashbacks start. Sometimes it makes my focus off.”

“The meds not working?” Why wouldn’t she just keep taking the medication that the doctor prescribed her? “Gabby, playing around with your prescriptions isn’t a safe thing to be doing.” I don’t want to sound too ‘fatherly’ or seem like I’m lecturing, but I can’t have her overdosing herself because of this.

“Relax, babe. Dr. T told me to take the lowest dosage I can to see how I do with it. He knows… it was his idea. I’ve been… misusing them lately.” She hangs her head, and I suddenly feel bad for insinuating that she’s not taking her meds right… like she’s some sort of junkie or something.

“You’ve been stressed… we all have,” I say sighing. “I love you, Gabby. I’m not entirely certain how you trapped me in this web of feelings, but you have me, and I’m not going anywhere. Stop trying to scare me off with your past, stop trying to make me want to leave you because you think having issues will make me not want you. Stop. I want you. I need you.” I stop when Hannah starts fussing. “I also need to get her fed,” I say, grinning.

Gabby laughs and gives me a quick peck before tending to Hannah in the living room while I finish up dinner. The rest of the night is spent just like any typical ‘normal’ family would spend theirs. I play on the floor with Hannah while Gabby does the dishes, even after I insisted I do them because she’s a ‘guest’… that didn’t go over too well, of course. After she finishes up, she comes to the living room with pajamas for Hannah and helps get her changed. I love watching these two interact, and I love how Hannah has taken to Gabby. My heart swells every time Hannah laughs at Gabby’s antics. I can see this woman being the mother of my child, but as beautiful as that sounds, I’m not sure Gabby ever wants to have that. We’ve never talked about our dreams and aspirations for the future because, for the longest time, we didn’t need to. We were just ‘fuck-buddies’… but now we’re so much more. With everything going on these last few weeks, we haven’t really had much time to talk about anything else other than the drama at hand. Between my mom, Gabby’s job loss, and learning what makes her… her, I haven’t really learned much else about the woman I love. The woman I could see mothering my children.

By the time Hannah’s bedtime rolls around, the two of us read her books and Gabby reluctantly lets me rock Hannah to sleep before setting her down in her crib. When I walk out to the living room, she’s propped on the arm of the couch, watching the TV, her face as pale as a ghost.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, moving my gaze to what has her in the trance. It’s just another woman on the news talking about the recent killings in a city about 5 hours south of us. Why would this have her looking like she saw a ghost? “Hey,” I whisper, kneeling next to her. Her face finally turns to mine, eyes wide, tears forming and blurring her beautiful irises.

“They’re looking for my mom,” she whispers. “They think… they said…” She trails off and turns back to the TV, sliding down onto the couch and wrapping her arms around her legs.

“What are you talking about, Gabby? This is from St. Louis… not Chicago. Your mom lives in Chicago. And, why would they be looking for her unless-” Then, the news broadcaster speaks and on the screen pops up an image of my Gabby about twenty years from now.

Fuck. Me.

“The woman, Lynette Burns Rosdale, was last seen driving a white Dodge Intrepid, traveling north on Interstate 55. If anyone has any information to her whereabouts, please call the number listed on your screen.”

Her voice trails off as my mind starts to race. Her mom is wanted for murder? She could pass as Gabby’s older sister! How in the hell can that be someone who made Gabby’s life so miserable?

“I have to go,” Gabby whispers, quickly getting up from the couch. Frantic, she starts searching for her things, tears streaming down her face. I can’t let her go. I can’t let her be alone right now.

“Stop, Benton… I ha… I have to go…” she cries, gasping for air. Her eyes close, and she pushes the heel of her hands to her temples. What the fuck is happening?!

“Gab, stop. You’re not leaving like this.” I wrap my arms around her trembling body, and break for the woman I love, as she melts into a panic attack. I can feel her pulse racing underneath my fingertips. Her breathing is ragged, and she’s whimpering and shaking.

“You have to let me go. I need to go. I have to leave; I can’t be here. She’s going to find me, she’s going to hurt you, and she’s going to hurt Hannah!” She’s wailing and crying, and it’s all I can do to get her to my bedroom and close the door, hopefully keeping the noise from waking Hannah up.