"We could always turn back now, and pull a Debbie," Ian said as we continued driving through the night, at the outskirts of downtown.

I flipped my hair back, its roots already caked in sweat, and resumed the death glare I'd been giving him earlier. "I've told you before, Ian," I said, attempting to keep my voice down, due to the confined space of the car, "I want to deliver Iana in a fucking hospital. How many times do I have to tell you that? We pregnant women are a point of contention in the population, and I respect that, but we've got rights, too."

Ian smirked, negotiating between the other cars on the road as we drove towards the hospital as the minutes on my car clock ticked closer to midnight. "I know, Murphy—I'm just fucking with you, really."

"Well, don't," I replied, gritting my teeth as I worked on focusing on my breathing. "I love you, Ian, really I do, but I really just want straight conversation from here on in..."

"Well, that's going to be an issue," Ian replied. "Should I deepen my voice a little? Should I talk about how much I love the opposite sex?"

I gave him a look like he was insane. "Sarcasm is not what I meant!" I grumbled, letting out a small scream as another contraction ripped through me. "Fuck!" I screamed, leaning back against my seat, relieved that the car seat had been set up by Ian and left in the back seat earlier that week, to ensure the hospital would let us go home after the birth. "Dammit! I really hope this isn't going too quickly..."

"Why?" Ian asked.

I sighed. "Once the woman hits ten centimeters, then she can't have any pain medication!" I yelled back at him, no longer having any concern for his hearing. "And once that happens, I'm going to be dying more than I am now!"

"You're not dying," Ian said gently as we reached the other side of downtown. "Trust me—I've seen plenty of pregnant women on my routes. You're going to be—"

"You're not a fucking expert on the subject, Ian!" I yelled, hating myself for speaking this way, but wanting the pain to go away as quickly as possible. "I don't care if you've seen three, or three thousand women on your routes—you're not a pregnancy expert!"

Ian nodded. "I know. We're all good at our own things, Murph," he said, looking over at me then, his brow furrowed. "You okay?"

I sighed, a wave of pain stopping itself, and I relaxed again. "For now."

"You going to call Josh?" Ian asked.

I shrugged. "He said he was working tonight, so he'll probably figure out I'm there..."

"Trouble in paradise?"

"Well, I think I figured out the whole thing with him and Nicholas..."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." I straightened in my seat then, keeping a firm hand upon my stomach. "I told you about Nicholas's past as a thug?"

Ian tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "Yes."

"Well, apparently, Josh's brother was involved somehow, and Nicholas ended up throwing him off a building and paralyzing him," I replied.

"Shit," Ian whispered.

I nodded. "Yeah. But Josh forgave him."

"He forgave him?"

"Mmm-hmmm," I replied. "Josh said he'll never forget, but he forgave Nicholas, all because his brother, Desmond, forgave him."

"Well, more power to him, I guess," Ian replied, obviously annoyed at the fact that I still had to be in contact with Nicholas. "But I want you to be on your guard, okay?"

"My guard?" I asked, as we reached the block of the hospital, and tried again to focus on my breathing. "Why should I need to keep on my guard? The army straightened Nicholas out. I told you this. He told me this..."

"Yeah, but Nicholas failed to mention the part where he threw an innocent guy off a fucking building," Ian said, obviously trying to keep his cool.

I sighed, shifting in my seat as we continued down the block. "Look, I know you care Ian—I'm glad that you care, really—but we need to focus on Iana right now. I mean, she's almost here and we still need to get me to the hospital..."

Ian nodded. "Can do," he replied.

We arrived at the emergency entrance of the hospital, and Ian managed to find a spot not too far away from the entrance. I ducked down into the well of the seat, where my feet were resting, and retrieved my bag, which was filled with clothes for Iana and me, as well as all the necessities that all the top-ranking baby websites told me should've been there. I kept up my breathing as Ian helped me from the car, slamming and locking the door behind me, as we made our way through the darkness and towards the entrance.

"Hi," I said as we shuffled up to the front desk. "My name is Murphy Gallagher, and this is my twin brother, Ian Gallagher."

"How may we help you this morning, Miss Gallagher?" the woman asked.

"My sister's in the early stages of labor," Ian replied.

"Oh, I see," the woman said, typing as fast as lightning onto her computer, obviously checking me into the system. "Can we get a wheelchair here?" she called back to the nurses' station. "We have a woman in labor!"

I felt instantly relieved when the wheelchair arrived, and Ian took ahold of my bag for a moment as I settled into it. "He can come with me, right?"

The orderly who collected me gave Ian a look. "He the father?"

"God, no!" Ian cried, making a disgusted face.

"He's my twin," I replied. "My brother..."

"Oh," the orderly said, looking embarrassed. "Yeah, man. Come on back."

I kept a firm grip on Ian's hand as another contraction took over then, which lasted all the way to the delivery room before giving me a break. I was put up onto the massive exam table, and Ian, thankfully, looked away while a doctor and a nurse came in—both female, thankfully—and got ahold of my pants and yanked them down to check me. I was given a hospital gown for maximum comfort, and managed to slip that on as they looked me over.

"We're at five centimeters, Murphy," said the doctor, who I recognized as Dr. Laramie, one of the best doctors the hospital had to offer. "You stipulated in your file that you would be interested in an epidural?"

"Five centimeters?!" I demanded then, looking at Ian in fear before I turned to look at Dr. Laramie in a moment of shock.

"Something wrong, Murphy?"

I nodded. "Yeah! All the books said that I had a few hours before I was dilated this much! I don't understand what's happening..."

Dr. Laramie nodded. "Have you been experiencing cramps?"

I pursed my lips. "Yes," I replied.

"Since when?"

"Since lunchtime?" I asked, lifting up my shoulders and allowing them to fall. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Were they painful?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," I replied, feeling more secure as Ian came to stand beside me and to take my hand. "But what does it have to do with—?"

Dr. Laramie smiled, cutting me off. "Murphy, that simply means you were in labor for the last twelve hours and didn't know it. Did an onset of stress make your water break?"

"You could say that," Ian replied, his tone clipped, and Dr. Laramie turned to look at him. "Our older brother attacked Murphy about half an hour ago."

"Oh, my," Dr. Laramie said, motioning to the nurses to get the massive needle ready for my pain medication, and I immediately gravitated towards Ian for comfort. "Are you feeling all right, Murphy?" she asked, turning back to me.

I nodded then, turning towards Ian so as the nurse could untie the back of my hospital gown and give me that damned shot in my spine. I gripped Ian's hand tightly, shutting my eyes as I was injected before being told that I could lie back in my former position. "I'm fine," I managed to get out, breathing hard again, feeling relieved that Ian was there.

"All right," Dr. Laramie said gently. "Well, it shouldn't be for another hour or two, but we'll come and check on you soon," she said, motioning for the nurses to follow her as they all slipped out of the room.

"Do you need anything?" Ian asked. "Ice chips?"

"Call Fiona," I said, trying to keep my tone from wavering. "I want her to be here. I want you and her to be the godparents."

Ian smiled. "Really?"

"Of course. I need her, Ian. Please..."

He nodded, taking out his phone and dialing the number. He kept his free hand in mine then as we waited for our older sister to accept the phone call. "Fi? Hey, it's Ian. Yeah, I know, I'm sorry it's so late... No, I'm fine. Yeah, I know Lip got drunk tonight. You're letting him crash at your place? Jesus... No, I'm at the hospital. No, I told you, I'm fine—I'm here with Murphy. I'm here because the baby's coming..."

"The baby's coming?!" Fiona screamed from the other end of the phone, causing Ian to lift the phone away from his ear, and caused me to laugh. "What the hell?!"

"I know, I know—it's a long story," he said, trying to calm her down as he moved the phone back to his ear. "Anyhow, Murphy wants you to be here."

"Me?!" Fiona cried. "Me, really?!"

"Yes," Ian said, obviously trying to keep his cool. "Can you come?"

"I'll be right there," Fiona said. "See you soon."

Ian smiled. "Bye, Fi," he replied, hanging up and turning back to me. "Better?"

I sighed. "Yeah...at least until I get more knife wounds..."

He smirked. "Knife wounds?"

I shrugged. "Closest thing I could think of to these things..."

. . .

Fiona arrived half an hour later, and the active stages of labor had officially begun, so much so that I had the both of them on either side of me, holding my hands and whispering words of encouragement to me. They would take to getting me ice in turns, so as to rest their hands and ears periodically, because both were equally important, right? While all the while I remained in my hospital bed, just trying to envision good things as the pain cut through the epidural, and I began to think that there was something wrong with me.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with you," Fiona assures me, as Ian left the room to get me some more ice chips and to call Trevor. "I can promise you that."

I laughed then as Fiona took a comb to make sure that my hair was completely off my forehead to ensure some form of comfort. "We're fucking Gallagher's," I said, placing my free hand upon my stomach.

"That's right—and you're bringing the next one into the world," Fiona said gently. "I can't tell you how excited I am for you."

I sighed, looking up at her and smiling. "Listen, Ian didn't mention it on the phone, but I want you to be Iana's godmother," I said quietly.

Fiona smiled. "Me?"

I nodded. "Of course. So, in the event of anything happening to me, I've written into my will that you and Ian will share joint-custody of Iana."

"And if you get married?"

"You'll still be on the list," I assured her. "Even if I get married, there's no guarantee that any husband of mine will want to let Iana take his name..."

Fiona leaned down and kissed my head. "Well, that means a lot, Murphy. Thank you." She hesitated for a moment.

"Lip?" I asked.

"Yeah. He was saying some pretty fucked up shit when I let him in..."

I bit my lip, laying my head back against my pillows. "Any chance it was about his undying love for me?" I asked.

"Now that you mention it..." Fiona said quietly.

I sighed. "Ian and Trevor had a date, so Ian left Lip in charge because I needed to get out of my head for a while," I said quietly.

"You okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah, fine... Anyhow, Lip was over and pretty fucked up, so I told him that maybe he should seek out some more help..."

"Good sisterly thing to do," Fiona put in.

"That's what I thought," I replied. "So, Lip starts going on and on about how I'm such a fucking bitch since I used him, apparently, and that he's in love with me..." I shook my head. "And that's when he fucking lost it..."

"Lost it? What did he...?"

"He kissed me," I replied, turning to look at Fiona. "Just dragged me out of the fucking chair I was sitting in, and fucking kissed me."

Fiona sighed. "Jesus," she whispered.

"I told him to stop," I said quietly, lowering my eyes back to my stomach. "Told him to stop so many times, but he said he couldn't...and then Ian and Trevor walked in..."

"Wait, they saw it?!" Fiona demanded.

I sighed. "Yeah, and then Lip let go of me, thank god. Ian got in his face while Trevor made sure I was okay, and then Lip hit him in the face. That's why it was all purple—Ian didn't want to tell you because of...well, this," I said, running my hand over my stomach.

"Fuck," Fiona said quietly.

"Yeah, and then Trevor got Lip the fuck out of the house, while I went over to Ian, and that's when my water decided to break," I replied, feeling my face contorting then as another contraction broke through me.

"Breathe—it's okay," Fiona said soothingly.

I nodded. "I'm trying to make it be okay, Fiona," I said, hot tears escaping my eyes as I gripped onto her hand. "I'm just never going to get over the fact that I hurt Ian. He says he loves this baby already and wants it in our lives, but..."

"You're talking about Mickey being the father?"

I sighed. "Yes. I'm never going to get over how he reacted... He just walked away from me and screamed, Fiona. I've never seen a person react like that, to anything..."

"He was in love with Mickey," Fiona said simply, "and he might still be in love with Mickey, but we can't know for sure."

I sighed, lying back as the contraction ended again. "All I know is, Fi, I'd never make the same mistake twice..."

"What? By fucking Mickey again?" she asked.

I laughed aloud then. "Yeah—not touching that one. Or any exes of my siblings. That just has 'wrong' written all over it..."

Fiona smiled. "Well, I know one thing," she said. "Iana is going to be the luckiest baby in the world, because she's got you for a mom."

. . .

It was close to five in the morning when Dr. Laramie returned to my room, and checked me over, to let me know that Iana was finally about to make her big debut. I gripped tightly to Ian and Fiona's hands, not wanting them to leave for a moment, as I felt something attempting to pass its way through my birth canal and out into the world. I watched as Dr. Laramie snapped a pair of fresh gloves on, her face mask in place, and told the nurses to be prepared with the injections and the bath to make Iana presentable.

I'd already selected an outfit for Iana—a little pink, ruffley sundress, and of course she would be wrapped up in a pink, monogramed blanket and sporting a pink monogramed hat—and I thought of this as I screamed. I barely heard the words of encouragement coming from Ian and Fiona—all I cared about was getting Iana out of me and safely into the care of Dr. Laramie and her nurses across the room. The baby scale was positioned between the small bathing area set up for Iana, and I hoped that she would prove to be a good weight—

"And here we are, Murphy!" Dr. Laramie said then, and lifted Iana upwards, and I found myself gasping for air then as Ian and Fiona let out a collective gasp. "Let's get her bathed and weighed," she ordered then, bustling around the room with her. Once she was handed over to the nurses, Dr. Laramie turned to me and smiled. "She's absolutely beautiful, Murphy—well done! I want to congratulate you on a wonderful birth."

I smiled then, managing to sit up then to watch as the nurses carefully bathed Iana, who was screaming at the difference of temperature and fear of all these people around her. Once she was bathed, they brought her over to the scale, and I found my eyes filling with tears of relief when they told me she was a healthy seven pounds, four ounces. Next, they made sure she was dry enough before they wrapped her up into the blanket and hat—the dress would have to wait until Iana and I went home—before they brought her over to me.

"And here she is," the nurse said, putting her into my arms.

"Hi, Iana," I said, my voice trembling.

I stared down at her then, knowing that there was no mistaking it—she was definitely the daughter of me and Mickey Milkovich. A dusting of what I sensed would prove to be a crop of thick, raven hair was upon her head, but her eyes were dark, leading me to believe that she would have my eyes. Her nose was Mickey's as well, but she had my small chin and definitely was boasting my cheeks, although her forehead was her father's. I looked up at Ian then, who quickly noticed the differences from me in her face, but quickly put a smile on, so as I would sense that he was plenty pleased with how she looked.

"Do we have a name yet?" Dr. Laramie asked. "First? Middle? Last?"

I nodded. "Yeah, we do," I replied, leaning down and kissing Iana's forehead. "Iana—spelled like Ian's name, but with an 'A' at the end—is her first name."

"Very good," Dr. Laramie said. "And a middle name?"

"Yes. Phillipa—two L's, one P," I said patiently. "And then her surname is Gallagher, as her father won't be involved."

"Are you sure?" Ian asked me softly as Dr. Laramie began helping the nurses sterilize the room, to make sure that Iana's environment would be healthy.

"Yeah, I mean, after last night—" Fiona began.

I shook my head. "I'm sure," I replied, looking down at her. Quickly, I maneuvered my hospital gown so that she could have her first meal. "Lip'll come around," I replied, smiling as Iana latched on quickly, placing her small hand upon my chest. "I know he'll come around eventually and see reason. Besides, he's our brother, isn't he?"

. . .

Iana and I were able to return home the following day, and I was pleased not to be under scrutiny by other doctors and nurses in a constant manner. Josh had stopped by my room to see her, and said that Iana was as beautiful as me, although I hardly felt beautiful. It was such a relief to learn how much of a sleeper Iana was, and although such a thing shocked me, I really began to think that she'd inherited her intelligence gene from me.

"How is she?" Ian asked as I walked through the front door with her.

I smiled. "Perfect," I replied.

"And you?" Ian asked, taking my bag and placing it on the stairs. "You okay?"

"Never better," I replied, walking into the living room, spotting Debbie and Franny, as well as Fiona, Liam, and Trevor in the room. "Hey, guys," I said, stepping forward. "So, who wants to see Iana first?" I asked.

Debbie stepped forward as I placed Iana's car seat on the couch, and leaned down, gently unbuckling her as Franny watched eagerly. "Hi, Iana," Debbie whispered as Iana's eyes fluttered, opening completely to get a good look at her aunt. "It's Aunt Debbie. It's so nice to finally meet you."

Iana stared up at Debbie then, not crying, just staring, and I was pleased that she didn't seem like a typical baby, in that, she would automatically cry when encountering a stranger.

"My turn?" Fiona asked, stepping forward, gently taking Iana from Debbie. "Hey, Iana. I'm your Aunt Fiona. I'm so happy you're here," she said, kissing her forehead.

Ian stepped forward next, gently taking Iana into his arms. "And I'm your namesake, your Uncle Ian," he said, and Trevor automatically gravitated towards him, smiling down at her. "It's so good to have you home."

"Can I hold her?" Trevor asked.

I nodded. "Of course you can."

Trevor took Iana then, smiling down at her. "Hey," he said.

"It's okay," I said to him, touching his shoulder. "Talk to her."

"I'm Trevor," he said. "I'm Ian's boyfriend. I guess that's a lot for you to handle so early on, huh?" he asked, laughing. "Well, I think I speak for all of us when I say that it's so nice to have you here, Iana."

I smiled, taking Iana gently back from him and turning to look at Liam. "Do you want to say hi to your niece, Liam?" I asked him. At his nod, I crossed towards the couch and sat, Liam sitting beside me and watching. I made sure there were plenty of pillows around him and, once he was back against the cushions, I gently eased Iana into his arms.

"She's small," Liam said, as if he was shocked.

I smiled. "Well, all of us were that small at some point," I say to him, keeping a close eye on Iana, making sure that Liam didn't make any sudden movements to disturb her. "Are you okay with her, or do you want me to take her back?"

Liam looked up at me and smiled. "I'm okay, Murphy. I'm okay."

I leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I know you are," I said quietly.

. . .

"Are you on a different time zone or something?" Ian asked, coming into my room on the first day of June. "Wow. Even when you're looking for something, you tend to keep your room clean, I see..."

I sighed. "Well, Iana was asleep so I figured I'd take a shower..."

Ian nodded. "And judging by the wet hair, I'll go out on a limb and say, you did?"

I let out another sigh then, my shoulders deflating. "I think I left something at the firm," I say then, feeling ridiculous. "I thought I grabbed everything when my maternity leave started, but only I know where I put it, and I don't want to take out Iana yet..."

"Hey, hey," Ian said, stepping into my bedroom and pulling me into a hug. "That's okay. What do you need? Like, half an hour?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay," Ian said. "I know exactly where the diapers are, and how to change one. Plus, you've got all that milk in the fridge if Iana gets hungry. And if she spits up, I know where the clothes are, and where her bath is. I know I can take her outside for a few minutes, and I know where the baby suntan lotion is. You've been over this with me on countless occasions, Murphy—have some faith that I can handle it. Okay?"

I smiled, pulling back. "All right, all right," I said, getting my bag. I walked over to the crib, where Iana was taking a nap. Bending over, I kissed her forehead, and was relieved that she didn't wake up. "Well, okay. I'll keep my phone on my in case something happens while I'm gone," I said, walking towards the door.

"We're fine," Ian said. "Trevor's coming over in a bit, so I'll have back-up."

I laughed. "Okay, fair enough," I said, fishing my keys out of my pocket and making my way downstairs and to the front door. Letting myself out, I locked up behind me and went towards my car, feeling weird at being separated from Iana, but also knowing I'd have to prepare myself for it in September, when I started work again.

The drive to the firm was uneventful, but when I arrived, Rachel and Cindy were all a-flutter, so I handed over the baby pictures I'd meant to mail them. That appeased them, which made me laugh to myself as I walked over and into my office. Once there, I went through my desk and found the information I'd slowly been gathering, which had to do with some off-shore accounts that Paul Farris had, and the possibility that he had Jackie kill his father, because of his insider trading deals. So, it had had to do with money, just not in the way Nicholas and I had originally anticipated.

"Murphy?"

I looked up then, seeing Nicholas standing in my office doorway. "Hey," I said, in what I assumed was a noncommittal manner, as I lowered my eyes back to my documents. "What brings you here?"

"Well, I heard you were here," he said carefully. "Are you back?"

I shook my head. "Unofficially," I replied. "I was just picking something up I needed for working from home. My maternity leave stops in September."

Nicholas nodded. "Got it."

"Do you?" I asked him, slamming my desk drawer shut.

He blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I sighed, bringing the documents close to my chest, which likely wasn't a good idea, but I was currently on the offensive and not really thinking straight. "I just want you to know that Josh told me what happened," I said quietly.

"He told you?"

I nodded. "Yeah. What happened to make you despise one another. He said he can forgive you, but he can't ever forget...what happened to Desmond."

He sighed. "He tell you I push him?"

I tilted my head to one side. "What do you think?"

"I think that son of a bitch is still spreading lies, and I can't stand it."

"A lie?" I demanded. "A lie?! He said that you shoved Desmond off a building after you beat him up—"

"And that now he's paralyzed from the fall?!"

I nodded. "Yes!" I hissed back. "That's what he said!"

"Goddammit," Nicholas whispered.

I lifted my head. "What?"

"That's not the full story, Murphy."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, really," Nicholas said angrily, coming into my office, the door shutting automatically behind him.

"Then tell me," I said, shocked at how close he was to me. "Tell me the full story, Nicholas, if it means that much to you..."

"It was a set up."

"A set up?"

"Yeah, between the two rival gangs."

"Desmond was in a gang?"

"Yes, Desmond was in a fucking gang," Nicholas said, growing impatient. "Anyhow, Desmond owned my top dog money, and since he refused to pay, it was my job to beat him up until he would pay up."

I shrugged. "So, you lost control, and he fell off the building."

"No," Nicholas replied. "I wanted out of the game..."

"Out of the game?"

"Yes. I wanted to be done with all of it. I knew my top dog's play, and I thought something was up, so I said I couldn't do it."

"So, what happened?"

"Josh's sister, Clarissa, who was only fourteen at the time, stepped in," Nicholas replied. "We told her the situation, and when Clarissa saw our side of it, she told Desmond to pay up, and when he refused, she began hitting him."

"And, of course, Desmond wouldn't hit Clarissa, because she was his little sister, and a woman on top of that," I said, putting two and two together.

"Exactly," Nicholas replied. "So, when I told Clarissa that Desmond had had enough, she refused to listen. I stepped in between them, telling her to stop, and when she refused, she ended up attacking me," he replied, moving his collar to the side, where scratch marks were on his neck. "I always said a dog attacked me, because I was embarrassed..."

"Clarissa do that?"

"Yeah," Nicholas said, pulling his collar back in place. "Anyhow, when Clarissa attacked me, I stumbled backwards, into Desmond, and that's how he fell off the roof," he said quietly. "So, did I throw him off the roof? No. Did I accidentally knock myself into him, which caused him to fall off the roof? Yes. Do I blame myself for all of this? Absolutely."

"Does Josh know?"

"I don't know, and I don't fucking care," Nicholas replied, staring down at me. "All I wanted was for you to know the truth."

I felt my breath hitch in my throat then, knowing that I shouldn't be feeling this way, but also wanting all the answers there were. "And is that... Is that all you want, Nicholas?"

"It's all I can want, Murphy."

"I don't believe that," I said, walking after him as he turned away from me. "I don't believe that for a minute, Nicholas. I don't."

Nicholas stared down at me. "You know my situation."

I nodded. "I know. And I'm saying I don't care," I whispered, slamming him up against the wall without hesitation, our lips meeting immediately, and the fire was ignited. I felt my hand dropping automatically to his belt—I needed this, needed him—but as I got his belt undone and stuck my hand inside his pants, Nicholas caught my wrist.

"Murphy..."

"What?" I whispered, staring up at him. "What's wrong?"

He shoved me away from him. "I'll forgive you, because your hormones are fucking off the charts right now, but...stop."

I blinked, surprised he was acting this way. "Why?"

"Because Jasmine is fucking pregnant! I told you!" Nicholas said, staring at me in a way where I physically felt the hate from his eyes and land into my chest. "Stop acting like a fucking..." He stopped himself then, shaking his head. "You're better than this, Murphy. I know you are. And we need to stop all of this. You're just my partner in the courtroom, Murphy. That's all," he said, spreading his hands as if to make a point, before he walked out.

I turned around then, walking towards my desk and gathering up my paperwork and putting it into my bag. I felt myself going numb, as I so often did when my mind knew that it wasn't fully prepared to keep the rest of my emotions in check. I slipped my bag on over my shoulder and opened the door to my office, making my way down the hallway and towards the elevators. I waved to Rachel and Cindy as I walked by, relieved that they didn't let on that they'd heard my conversation with Nicholas as I pressed the elevator button door.

I pulled out my phone then, texting Ian. On my way home now. Need me to pick up anything on the way?

When the elevator arrived, Ian texted me back. All good here—thought we'd do takeout tonight since it's so hot out. Everything okay?

Things are fine, I wrote back. Unforeseen complications got in the way for a moment, but we're all good. Be home in fifteen.

I looked up then, just as the elevator doors were about to close, and saw Nicholas running for the doors then. In that moment, I could've pressed the button to let him in, but I decided to make him wait. He was staring at me, though, so I didn't think it was the elevator he wanted after all as the doors slammed behind him.

Funny, I thought to myself, that one massive building would only have one elevator working today, and the stairwells closed off for painting, I mused as the elevator took me downstairs and to my car, so I could get back home to my daughter, who should have been, and truly was, the most important thing in my life.

END OF SEASON TWO