The house didn't feel like home. It was the first thought that filtered through Nick's head as he stepped through the front door. The walls were the same. The furniture was the same. Nothing had changed. And yet it had all changed. Ever since he had confessed to Betsy, only a few painfully short days before, something had shifted in the very atmosphere of the house. It was as if a switch had flipped and suddenly it felt like it had before Betsy had arrived. It was now a place where he and his children lived but it didn't feel like home.

She hadn't left the day after his revelation. He had almost expected her to be gone in the morning, but she was still in his home days later. When he had come down in the morning to see her standing in  his kitchen, making coffee as she did every morning, he had released a breath he hadn't even realised he had been holding. The gesture was repeated morning after morning as he walked down the stairs, expecting to enter the kitchen one day without her there. He wouldn't blame her. And yet the very thought of her not being there in the morning was a painful reminder of how much he had come to enjoy her presence in his home.

And yet, even though she still stood in his kitchen every morning, making the same coffee as she had before, everything was different. A wall had gone up between them. One that seemed impossible to breach no matter how high he tried to climb.

Clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides, Nick drew in a steadying breath. Time. He had to give her time. It was just so damned difficult to do that.

Setting his briefcase down in the hall, he slipped out of his shoes. Rolling his head on his neck to release the tired muscles, Nick sighed, removing his jacket as he did so.

The television was on in the lounge, the muted chatter of the presenters reaching his ears. Betsy would be in there. But, no matter how much to, he couldn't go in there and snuggle with Betsy on the sofa. He wouldn't be welcome. He had helped her notify her family about the potential media storm to come, to put them in touch with his PR team to prepare them for the attention they may receive. Nick had his security team put together another copy of the file as she had requested. Now it was just a waiting game. And yet the guilt was overwhelming. He had to make it up to her somehow. He was trying.

It wasn't enough.

Running a hand down his face, weariness clinging to every part of his body, Nick walked past the open doorway and kept on going. Maybe he was punishing himself. He could easily go and sit with Betsy, to be in her presence and not acknowledge the chasm between them. It just felt wrong to do it without her invitation.

Nick's stomach twisted uncomfortably, his footsteps faltering. His heart felt as if something had clamped around the organ, clenching tighter every time he thought about Betsy no longer being there. How empty his life would feel without her there to bring her warmth.

It should have been a good day. He should have been celebrating with the Giannopoulos family as the merger was done. Signed, sealed, and ready to be announced to the world. The future of his children had been secured. It was what he had been working on for so long, the plans he had spent years putting into fruition. And yet, when he should have felt success at his achievement, Nick only felt a hollow barely-noticeable flicker of pride. His father hadn't managed anything like this during his lifetime.

He didn't feel like celebrating.

"Nick, is that you?"

Nick's eyes fluttered shut as her voice washed over him. He knew that voice so well. Loved the sound as it filled up his very soul.

"Yes, it's me. Do you need anything?" Nick asked, unable to turn around. He knew if he looked at her he would not be able to resist pulling her into his arms. From pulling her close, so close that her petite body was sheltered against his. Nick wanted to pull her close so he could feel her heart beating through the layers of clothing between them.

He shook his head to clear the urge. No. She needed space. She was angry with him. Betsy had to be the one to decide when he could hold her again. He clenched his hands at his sides. Never did he imagine it would be so hard to give her exactly what she wanted.

"I need to talk to you for a moment. Can you come in here?" Betsy asked. "Please."

Nick's mouth suddenly felt dry as he choked out a response. "Of course."

Pulse thudding loudly in his ears, Nick spun around and backtracked towards the living room. The TV had been turned off so that the room was oddly quiet. And there she was, standing in the centre, twisting her hands and biting her lips as she watched him approach. He didn't get too close. He couldn't, not without giving in to the urge to touch her. Instead he folded his hands behind his back so they were unable to do what he so wanted to do.

She made no attempt to start a conversation. Betsy just stared up at him, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, her body clad in comfy pyjamas with a giant picture on Tweety Bird on the front. Nick drew in a sharp breath as he met her gaze for the first time in days. It felt like he had been sucker punched in the solar plexus, his breath suddenly leaving him in a rushed exhale. He had forgotten what it felt like. She was beautiful. So bloody beautiful.

Nick swallowed loudly, his trimmed fingernails biting into his palms as he clenched his hands into fists. It took all of his willpower not to do it. To stay back and not to touch. "What did you want to talk about?"

Betsy blinked and frowned, glancing down at her hands for a moment. "I'm not sure how to begin."

Nick almost smiled. "How about the beginning? I've heard that's the best place to start."

"Don't try and act cute. I'm still angry with you." Betsy replied stiffly. And yet, despite the tone of her voice, Nick could see the sparkle in her eyes. The smile lurking behind the surface.

But then the sparkle in her gaze vanished. She pulled back her shoulders, her blonde top knot swaying on top of her head as she lifted her chin. Her attempt at looking at

"I need to talk to you about a few things." Betsy shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot. Finally she sighed, "I've been thinking a lot over the last few days."

"Thinking about what?"

Betsy glanced away, drawing in a deep breath before she continued, "I've been thinking about what happens next. Delilah will be in school and Tommy will be in nursery from September. When that happens, I don't think I should be your employee any more. You don't need me to be your housekeeper."

"That's not true. They need you." Nick blurted as his heart seized within his chest. She couldn't really be saying this. She couldn't be leaving. "I need you."

Betsy smiled but it was a sad smile. "Nick, you have never needed anyone. You are strong and you know your place in the world. I want some of that too."

"You can still have that here. I'm sorry for hurting you but it doesn't mean that you need to leave."

"It does and I think I do. I'm not saying its forever but we've skipped ahead a few steps here. Since I moved in here to be your housekeeper we've been wrapped up in a bubble. I think you and I need some space." Betsy blinked and inhaled shakily. "We need to figure out where we go from here. I mean, are you sure you want to have a proper relationship with me?"

Nick nodded his head without hesitation. "Of course I do. I want nothing more."

"Then you need to let me go – just for a while. I can't be in a relationship with you properly if I am still your employee. We started for the deal with Markos, not the best of reasons, but I think we could make a go of this. But first, I think I need to know that you want me for me and not out of convenience. And it's not just about you. In my own mind, if you're paying me a salary, it creates an imbalance between us. I can't be in a relationship like that." Betsy lifted her eyes up to meet his, her feet carrying her closer so that her fingertips could trail across his rough jaw. "We have many issues between us that still need to be worked out but, before we do anything else, we need to be equal in this relationship. I am not a possession or a toy to be ordered about or controlled. If that is what you want in a girlfriend then that is not me."

"But I," Nick stuttered, his palms growing clammy and a cold chill running down his spine. He drew in a ragged breath and panic gripped him. "I want you, Betsy."

Betsy shook her head and pressed her fingers over his lips. "Don't speak. I need you to take a step back and truly think about this. Think about what you want and whether you can do what I ask. I won't accept anything less than a partnership. People think I am a pushover because I am forgiving. I suppose I am in some respects. But in this, I need to stand up for myself. I've been married once and I've already lost too much. I don't want to get in any deeper than I already am – which is already too much – if you can't give me what I need. You need to decide if you can loosen the reins."

Nick kissed her fingers and then, even though it killed him to do it, he nodded his head. Her breath escaped her in a sigh. Even though he hadn't been given permission to do so, he wrapped his arms around her small body and held her close with desperation he had never experienced before in his life. Every part of him wanted to hold her tight and never let her go. Desperation was consuming him but he fought back. Could he do this? Could he let her go and hope that she would come back to him? It felt like he was tearing his heart into two pieces just thinking about it because, no matter where she went, Betsy would always take a part of him with her.

How had she done it? How had she slipped in so close and woven herself into his life that the very thought of it without her was unbearable.

"So what did you want to do?" Nick asked, ceding control to her for the first time in forever. His arms however did not release their hold. He hugged her closer and rested his chin on top of her head as he murmured, "Where do we go from here?"

"I'll stay here until the children start school and nursery. But this," she said softly, tapping his chest for emphasis. "This needs to stop. Until we've both had time to think about it, we need to keep the distance between us. We've been wrapped up in this fantasy for months but we're in the real world and we are adults. We need to start acting like it. You have two beautiful children and they deserve for us to do this properly. If something were to happen, they would get caught in the crossfire. They've been through enough already."

Nick's stomach in knots and yet he felt numbness seep into his body. He could hear her words, knew there was send and logic to them, but he still felt like he was losing everything. He swallowed and closed his eyes, breathing in her scent. He wanted to memorise this, the feel of her body pressed against his. How her smaller arms wrapped tightly around his waist and her fingers clutched the back of shirt.

And then, because he knew there would be no way he could get through the time spent apart without it, he released one arm from the tight grip around her waist and instead used it to tilt her head up. His lips were on hers before she could protest. He took everything, the taste of her on his tongue, the feel of her soft lips against his, and the sound of her breathy sighs. And yet he gave as much back. He poured everything into that kiss. How much he cared for her, how much he ached at the thought of her being apart, and how much he never wanted to be away from her. It wasn't pretty. It was pure desperation; fingers tangled in her hair and bruising kisses that were so frantic their teeth clicked against one another's.

And then, just as abruptly as they had come together, they parted. Nick's lips were red and swollen, his shirt untucked, and his hair was a mess from where her fingers had combed through it. The kiss had done nothing to alleviate the ache of their parting. Instead it only grew worse as Betsy backed away one step at a time, her fingers pressed to her lips as she did so. Her hair had fallen from the top knot and hung around her shoulders in a dishevelled nest. Her cheeks were flushed red and there was a still a haze of passion lingering in her gaze. Yet with each step backwards he could see her creating an emotional distance between them.

"Good night Nicholas," Betsy murmured, nodding her head and hurrying from the room.

"Good night, my pixie." Nick whispered in response, but she was already gone.

Staggering a few steps across the room, his legs gave out beneath him. He slumped on to the sofa. Placing his head in his hands, Nick fought back the burning in his eyes. It was supposed to be a good day. He had finally achieved what he had worked for his entire adult life. So why did it have to feel like he was losing everything?