(CHRIS)

She probably thinks she's sneaking up on me but I spotted her the moment she came round the corner. She's mere steps away when I speak, "Go away, I'm tired of talking." Ten bucks says she's not expecting to hear those words falling from my lips.

And it has the required effect. She stops short, unsure of herself now and I can almost hear her thinking; what do I do now?'

I'll help her with that decision. Turning my back on her, I say, "Go away" and silently start to count to ten. That's all it should take.

But this time she does surprise me. Instead of turning on her heel and fleeing as fast as she can, she stands her ground. Interesting.

"I'm not leaving. You don't have to say anything, I just want you to listen," she tells me and she actually sounds like she means it.

I decide to call her bluff. "Fine you talk, I'll listen."

And of course she clams right up.

I've played this game so many times before that I'm tired of it. Completely, %+%@+*% weary of it. We both start talking at the same time but her voice is louder and I stop what I'm saying.

"I know I've beat the horse to death so to speak when it comes to feeling I'm not enough for you," she finally admits. "But its something I've tried to work on." Her voice cracks a little as she continues, "But when you say something to me like what you did at the house when you misunderstood what you saw when I was comforting Joe after hearing about Kent's death."

"Oh give me a break," I snap right back. "You always turn to Joe for comfort." I don't want to be reminded of what I said to her at the house, it was wrong. It was a lie. I told her that she had good reason to worry about not being enough for me and that she was the last woman I wanted in my bed because I knew it would upset her. I acted like a complete, insensitive moron.

But of course right now she's going to defend Joe. "He's one of the reasons I'm here. He's the one who pushed me to go, telling me I'd regret it if I didn't."

That's the final straw. Advancing toward her I stop mere inches away. "Give me a %+%@+*% break. He told you to come, huh? You couldn't even make that decision yourself, someone had to push you to actually come pay attention to your husband. But I forgot, I take second place." I start shaking my head when what I really want to do is reach out and shake her. "You've done something to me no other woman has done. You cheated on me."

"Makes you feel like @*#%, doesn't it?" comes her sharp retort.

"Yah it does." I growl back at her. Then with the next breath it occurs to me that I really have no right to be so hurt, I've lost track of the times I made her feel the same way. Softly I tell her, "I'm sorry for every time I've made you feel that kind of pain."

There's surprise in her eyes and somehow that hurts more than if she had scoffed at me. Have I done that poor of a job of showing her that I regret the bad times we've been through? I thought I had done a better job. Guess there is still work to be done here.

"Any other man would walk the opposite direction and never look back. You are so difficult in so many ways. You don't believe I love you and only you. Don't believe I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I've tried my damndest to make you happy. But I've never been any other man and every time you pull the crap you pull it just makes me want you even more. It makes me want to make you realize that I'm the man for you. The ONLY man. I've loved you for ten years and while I might have been the ultimate #+%!#!% for the first half of those years, I've done everything I can think of to turn it around and prove my love to you."

"Shut up!"

Of all the things she could say, that's not what I expected to hear. But as the anger flares in me all over again, she continues to speak.

"Don't you think I know all that? I've been trying to figure out why I always seem to push you away when I should be holding on as hard as I can."

If I had a dime for every time she's said that, I'd be a richer man than I already am. "Well hurry up and figure it out, damn it. I'm tired of chasing you. Not sure how much longer I can keep beating my head against that same old wall. Not sure how much longer I want to," I add and it's the truth. I can't keep doing this. For every good moment in our relationship there's two bad moments. The bad times are starting to out weigh the good times.

She answers and her voice is so low it's basically just a whisper. "Don't you realize that's my greatest fear? That I won't be able to figure it all out before you give up? That's why I've faithfully continued therapy, that's why I'm still taking the medication. I'm trying to change."

"I never wanted you to change!" I say; my voice loud with anger. Then remembering that it's the middle of the night and that people may have their windows open as they sleep, I lower my voice again, but the anger, or maybe its frustration is still there. "I simply want you to understand, that I want you to let me take care of you. You think that you have to handle every problem all by yourself. You're afraid to lean on me and let me deal with things sometimes. I married you for better or for worse, I'm not going to run away anymore when the road gets bumpy. I want to help you deal with the depression and anything else that comes along. But you won't let me. You won't let me. And I'm tired of trying to make you let me. Very, very tired."

It's the truth; I'm weary to my bones.

"Think about it, Morgan. Figure out what you want. Please," I say to her then without waiting for her answer I turn and walk away. She won't answer me, I know that from experience.

I just wish I knew if she'll actually figure out what she wants. And I wonder if it's just too late now.

********************

(CHRIS)

It's been hours since our last conversation, if you can call it that, and Morgan hasn't reappeared yet. Maybe that shouldn't surprise me but it does. I expected her to be knocking on my door shortly after I walked away from her last night. When she's worrying about something, she usually keeps at it until everyone else wants to scream.

But there's no sign of her and I can't figure out if that's a good thing, or a bad thing. And I can't believe I'm actually considering going to find her myself. I've got to be the biggest doormat in the history of the world.

In a heartbeat I correct myself, I'm not a doormat. I'm simply a man fighting for something that he needs to feel alive in this world. Fighting for what keeps me grounded. Morgan means more to me than almost anything else in this world. I say almost anything else, because the music will always come first. There's no way I could walk away from that and still be me. But with out Morgan in my life, the music wouldn't be there. They are hopelessly intertwined.

So I really have no choice but to go find her. It only takes a quick call to the front desk and I'm taking a winding path through the lemon groves to her Villa, hoping that she's on one of the benches tucked into the walls along the way. But she isn't. Knocking on the door to her room gets me no response either. Suddenly it occurs to me that she might have left Italy all together. For a minute I stand there totally defeated. If she's left, I know there's nothing I can do.

Then I shake my head and tell myself I'm an idiot. If she'd left they would have told me when I called the front desk to get her room number. This whole mess really has me twisted up every which way. Banging on the door again, I swear when there's still no answer and debate my options. Breaking in will probably get me in trouble, but I'm not about to stand here and pound all day. Resisting the urge to kick the door, I take a few steps away and look around. Absolutely !*%%!@$ ridiculous.

But I can be persistent when I want and right now I really want to talk to my wife. Ten minutes later I'm swiping the pass card to the room through the lock, thanking my lucky stars I could sweet talk the desk clerk. Good thing she's a fan. It cost me an autograph and an advance copy of the next CD. The clerk called Morgan's room and there was no answer so I'm assuming she's gone out-probably souvenir shopping for the kids-and maybe that's a good thing. If she's out walking around, odds are she's thinking about everything and maybe by the time she gets back here, she'll be in a better, more agreeable, frame of mind.

Walking into her villa, I decide I'm going to sit down and wait. We're going to hash this out this afternoon for once and for all.

I haven't sat there very long when I decide that a visit to the bathroom is in order. The layouts of the Villas are pretty similar so I know that the door to my right is the bedroom and that the bathroom will be through there. The door is slightly ajar so I push it open so I can walk through. I'm expecting to find a perfectly made bed, it's one of the many things about me wife that can drive me crazy, her need to make the bed no matter what time we get up or how soon we'll be back in it.

But what I see instead stops me dead in my tracks. Not only is the bed not made but if I'm not mistaken Morgan is still in it. What the !!#*? It has to be four in the afternoon. There's no way she should be sleeping. If she were napping she would have simply thrown the other side of the comforter over herself.

But a closer check tells me that she's tucked into the bed the same way she usually is first thing in the morning. "Morgan!" I sharply say her name and there's no response. That gets my heart racing a little faster than normal. Stepping over to the bed, I touch her arm. "Morgan?"

Again no response.

"Crap!" I swear and kneel down beside the bed to look at her. Is she breathing? This time I swear my heart stops beating as I watch and finally I see the rise and fall of her chest. "Morgan, wake up."

0A This time when she doesn't open her eyes, I'm back on my feet, looking wildly around the room. I find her make up bag in the bathroom and when I upend it into the sink, the pill bottle her medication is in tumbles into it right along with her lipstick and mascara. The prescription on the front tells me how many pills were in the bottle when she had it filled. I know Morgan and she would have started taking these pills the day after she picked up the prescription. She's predictable that way and I've never once known her to differ from this routine. There should be twenty-eight pills left and I dump the container's contents onto the counter top, swiftly counting the round pills one by one.

"!!#*!" I swear when I realize there's only twenty-seven of them. Is she stupid? Why the hell did she double up last night? No wonder she's not awake yet, she's over medicated herself.

The only thing I can think to do is to try to wake her up and out of bed. I wonder if plying her with coffee or a cold shower would help? Maybe I should call her doctor. I dismiss that idea quickly knowing that I'd have a hell of a lot of explaining to do. If I can't wake her up on my own, I'll call the doctor and whatever the equivalent of 911 is here in Italy. The hell with the paparazzi and the tabloids.

Walking back over to the bed, I grab Morgan by the shoulders and shake her gently while calling her name. This time I'm rewarded with a fluttering of her eyes.

"Morgan," I say a little louder. "You need to wake up baby."

She mumbles something but I can't make it out.

"Come on baby. I know you're tired but you need to wake up. You've scared the %@## out of me."

This time she's a lot clearer when she mumbles, "Go 'way, sleepin'."

"You've slept enough," I say grimly and reach down to push the blanket off her. As usual she has the air conditioning blasting because she prefers to sleep with the covers over her. If she's cold, she should wake up more, I reason. "Wake up, Morgan," I order and shake her again.

"No," comes out clearer than anything else she's said so far. Good to know she still feels the need to disagree with me. She brings her hand up, pressing it flat against my chest as she pushes. "Go 'way." She opens her eyes long enough to give me what's probably supposed to pass for a glare, then she's reaching down for the blanket, trying to cover herself up again.

"Forget it! Time to get up and start the day," I mutter and reach over to slide my arm around her. I'm intending to pull her up and off the bed but she's got other ideas, pulling away.

"No damn it. Go away," she says again.

"I'm not going anywhere until I know you are awake," I repeat and reach for her again. As I do I notice a chain around her neck. Now I know she hasn't been here long enough to do any shopping. Unless she's been doing it in her sleep. I run my finger along the chain following it down to see what's on the end of it.

"A ring? Where the hell did this come from?"

I don't even realize I've asked the question out loud until I hear her say, "Joe."

I let go of the chain and the ring as though it's suddenly burning me and choke out, "Joe?"

"Joe," she mumbles a confirmation and this time when she tries to push me away, I let her. Joe gave her a ring? A !*%%!@$ ring!

Morgan reaches for the blanket, pulling it back over her as she snuggles her head back onto her pillow. She could care less what I just discovered and that should tell me something right away. Guess that explains why she felt the need to double up on her medication, she wants to spend the least amount of time as possible in my company.

Fine. If that's what she wants, that what she gets. I'm out of here. I think there is some where else I need to be and some one else I need to spend some quality time with. I can't wait.

********

(MORGAN)

I duck into the church and I'm instantly grateful for the cool, shadowed interior. My head is pounding and the heat of the day combined with bright sunlight outside isn't helping very much. Even with a good pair of sunglasses I still feel like I'm shrugging off the effects of quite the hangover. But that'll teach me to double up on my medication when I'm also suffering from jet lag. I swear I slept for at least eighteen hours, but right now it could have been eighteen minutes give the way I feel.

But maybe that's got more to do with Chris than the meds or the jet lag. The first thing I did after I got up and showered was to hunt him down. I dimly remember him interrupting my lengthy sleep but I can't remember what we talked about. All I know is when I went to his villa to try to re-start the conversation we'd ended in the wee hours of the morning, it was empty. There was no sign he'd ever been there. The room was vacant and tidy and every one of his belongings was gone.

The front desk could offer no information on where he'd disappeared to despite my pleas. My calls to him were left unanswered and even Simon didn't ha ve his new itinerary. I even reluctantly called Carolyn and Mel to see if either of them had heard from them, but they're as much in the dark as to his plans as I am.

Biting my lip I move through the church, stepping down the main aisle. There are several other people in here, a few of them in front of the ornate altar lighting candles. I sink down into one of the pews, grateful for the silence and the anonymity. No one else cares why I'm here; they are all focused on their own concerns.

I've never been one to pray to God for any kind of deliverance but maybe I should think about doing a little of that now. I'm scared. There, I've admitted it to myself. I didn't expect Chris to simply welcome me back with open arms; I expected a fight. I expected us to take turns hurling accusations at one another. I expected tears and pleas.

But I didn't expect him to walk away. Not in a million years.

Guess the joke's on me. Guess I really don't know him as well as I assumed I did. Even Chris has a breaking point and it's obvious I've driven him to it.

Silly me for thinking he would always be here for me. He's always been around, since that day ten years ago; when we first met in an airport. He's always been there even when he shouldn't have been, there he was. I guess I took it for granted that he always would be.

Now what do I do? Do I admit defeat and start planning a life without him in it? Even the thought of that makes my heart hurt. My hand moves and presses against my chest to try and stop the pain. And I feel the ring Joe gave me under my shirt.

He told me that he would always be there for me no matter how things with Chris turned out. That he was tired of pretending that I didn't mean the world to him. He admitted that I was his one great romance, but that he knew that he wasn't mine. That spot was reserved for Chris, and that I was Chris' great romance.

He encouraged me to go after to Chris and prove to him just how deep my feelings for him are. Right now I feel like calling Joe up and screaming at him that he's wrong. I could be screaming my love for Chris from the rooftops but I still think he'd be running as fast as he could the opposite direction.

Maybe I just need to face facts, I think as I stare at the soaring ceiling, with its paintings and ornamentation, above me. There's a good chance my marriage is over and I've got no one to blame but myself for its failure. And Joe made it very clear that he's not willing to be my back up plan. "I promise I'll always be a friend to you, Morgan. You're the mother of two of my children and you'll always have a very special place in my heart, but you know as well as I do that we aren't any good at being married."
Apparently I'm not any good at being married to any man.

Ugh. I hate this. I know that there are several people that would think that I'm only happy when I'm miserable but they would be very wrong. I want to get back to when Chris and I were first married. Correction I don't want to go back in time because I'm not all that sure we were the people we needed to be to make this marriage work. Duh Morgan, of course we weren't or I wouldn't be sitting here in Italy, in a church, by myself. I want to find a way to be happy here in the present. And the only way to do that is to find Chris. To find it in myself to let him love me.

As I sit staring at the candles that people have lit, it occurs to me that I've never really done that. I've never given the man in my life the opportunity to love me. I've never opened myself up and let him in. Allowing myself to be vulnerable is something that has always scared the crap out of me. But it's exactly what I need to do. It's easy to be strong, I've been doing it since my mother died and my father pulled away, but this time to get what I want, I have to surrender.

I have to put my faith in Chris and trust that he'll take care of me. And that's the hardest step of all.
But its one I know I have to take. Even if it scares me.

I want to be able to stand in front of him and simply say, "I'm yours" and mean it with all of my heart and soul.

I just can't help wondering if I'm too late; if he's going to look at me and say he's moved on. Without even really being conscious of it, I've made my way from the pew, up the aisle to the altar. With a shaking hand I reach for a candle and light it, closing my eyes and making a wish before I kneel down and pray.

Pray that it's not too late for a second chance.

Pray that I haven't pushed my husband away for good.

Pray that I can finally be the woman Chris needs me to be, and the woman I know I want to be.

***************

(JOE)

I stretch out on the lawn chair, laptop powering up on the table beside me, and close my eyes for a moment. The sun is warm on my face but there's a nice breeze wafting in off the lake to keep me cool. Besides if it gets too hot sitting here, I can always take a quick dip, the water is only a few short steps away. There's a Sea Doo buzzing past followed a moment later by the sound of several gulls flying overhead and I start grinning. Not often I can hear the typical sounds of cottage living, usually they're drowned out by the sound of three kids romping and playing.

But not this afternoon. Today Lily, Connor and Bella are all visiting friends. After close to two months here they've made several and when Callie called to see i f I'd mind letting them spend the day with her kids I wasn't going to be the mean dad and say no. In fact I pretty much jumped at the chance for a day to myself. I love those kids to pieces but it's also nice to have a little time to yourself once in a while.
When Annie was little it was just the opposite, I worked so much that I lived for those days when I could spend a whole day with just her. No demands for work, no nights out with Kent..... I still can't believe that he's gone. Soon I'm going to have to decide what to do with the charter business, not to mention the house back in Tulsa, but all that can wait. It's too nice a day to worry about anything.

Turning my attention back to the laptop, I see that it's ready for action. Pulling it over into my lap I click and check my email. There's an e-ticket for the kids and I for Hawaii. Soon I'll be able to lie on the beach and soak up some rays, who knows maybe I'll see just how rusty my surfing skills are while I'm there. There's nothing from Morgan. I'll take that as a good sign that things are going well between her and Chris, and she's too busy to call or email.

I know Hank is inviting her, and Chris, to join the rest of the Ross family in Hawaii. Will be interesting to see if they show up, after all Hawaii is a good place for a second honeymoon. Or in their case I guess it would be a third honeymoon. I can't help laughing out loud at that thought, I'm just a funny guy today.

Speaking of funny, there's a humorous email from Sierra. She's currently in Florida on a photo shoot and I laugh even more at her descriptions of the prima donna models she's photographing for a fashion magazine layout. She promises we'll get together soon for a weekend and I find myself looking forward to it. I'm really not looking for someone to get involved in a full fledged relationship with right now, but there's no doubt Sierra and I always manage to have a good time. And even better, she's a great listener. If it wasn't for her, and for Mel, I think I'd be in a lot worse shape now than I am.

I'm still chuckling over her descriptions when I hear what sounds like car tires on the gravel drive.

"What the hell?" I ask as I set the laptop back down on the table. If that's Morgan then I know I'm going to want to be beating the #*%! out of one Chris Gaines.

I get up out of the lawn chair and walk to the end of the porch closest to the driveway. Imagine my surprise when instead of Morgan Gaines getting out of the car, it's Chris Gaines.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask.

He slams the car door and makes his way over to the porch steps.

"You son of a $*!*!. You just couldn't leave her alone could you? You just couldn't help playing games with her head and her heart? I wouldn't have expected you of all people to use her to get back at me."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I ask as he comes up onto the porch. But instead of saying anything verbally, he answers with his fist. The shot catches me right in the side of the jaw and I lose my balance, staggering backwards. He turns away, shaking his hand from side to side and I regain my footing. "What the @$+%…." I could continue but instead I decide to follow his lead. Moving forward I lash out and punch him right back, giving him an uppercut to the side of the head.

That's all it takes to start the fight. We're pounding one another until we finally just collapse at opposite ends of the porch. I'm trying to catch my breath and wondering if some of the fingers on my right hand are broken. I can taste blood and i f the pain in my cheek is any indication, I think I'm going to have a black eye.

Great, just %@@%#!# great.

"Stupid %@@%#!# bastard!" Chris spits out. He's on his knees, his head hanging low in front of him. I can't see his face but I know damn well I got more than a few good shots in.

"I'm a stupid %@@%#!# bastard? Morgan flies practically around the world to get to you, and you're here? You're a bigger fool than I ever gave you credit for. She practically throws herself in your arms, asking for forgiveness and you walk away?" What kind of an ass is he?

Chris staggers to his feet, spitting a couple times over the railing, before he answers me. "Shows what you know. She did neither of those things. She didn't throw herse lf into my arms and she damn sure didn't ask for forgiveness. In fact I doubt she would have even mentioned your little rendezvous if I hadn't come right out and asked her, actually I never would have known about it if your wife hadn't let me know that you were here."

I shrug. "Kids will be kids." I'm going to ignore for the moment the fact that my soon to be ex was once again cavorting with the sad excuse for a man in front of me. Guess that might have a lot to do with why he's here instead of in Italy with Morgan. #*%!.

Chris straightens up and takes a few steps toward me. "What kind of game are you playing, Joe? You can't manage to find your own women so you resort to stealing mine."

Okay I'm not going to let him bait me. I'll be a man about this. He's angry and not thinking straight. "Wasn't aware I tried to steal your woman."

"Damn right you did. Coming here and playing with Morgan's emotions."

"Listen *$%%%%@, I told her that while she was my one great romance I knew that you were hers and vice versa. I did tell her that I would always be here for her, but only as a friend. I could have stolen her away from you without much effort...."

"In your dreams." Chris snorts.

But I ignore him and finish what I was saying, "But eventually she would have woken up, and realized that she was still in love with you. I've decided that I want to be happy for the long haul, not just for a little while."

"So I'm supposed to believe that after you slept with her the ring you gave her is just a friendship ring? How stupid do you think I am? Are you back in high school?"

"You really don't want me to answer that do you?" I ask with one eyebrow raised. Of course it's the one above the sore eye and I wince. "Besides you slept with both my wives."

"Don't recall either of them saying no." Chris smirks.

I sigh and think about every ache and pain I'm feeling right now. I can't even imagine what I'm going to feel like tomorrow morning. I have a feeling its going to be a hell of a lot worse.

But that doesn't stop me from pulling my arm back and punching Chris Gaines right in the filthy mouth.

**************

(CHRIS)

Damn. I hurt all over. Guess I'm getting old, nah, I think it's the mileage more than the years. This body has been through hell and back more than once. Today's beating is just the latest in bad decisions dating all the way back to when I was a teenager. Will I ever learn? Why is it when things seem to be going wonderful in my life I have to find a way to screw it up? Although I'm not sure I'm ready to accept all the blame for the mess my marriage is in at the moment. I think there is enough blame for the both of is. Why do we keep doing this?

Rubbing my hands through my hair, I just want to find the nearest bar and drown my sorrows in at least a gallon of whiskey. But the last thing I need to do is show up in some local dive all bruised and battered. Simon would kill me.

Movement off to my left catches my eye and I see Joe Ross headed this way.

"If you're headed this way for round two, I'm afraid I'm not up to it."

He shakes his head as he comes into the gazebo. "I don't think either of us would last through another round. Two were definitely enough." He sits down beside me and then leans forward setting a crystal carafe on the table in front of me, along with a glass. "Have another kind of round in mind."

"Yeah right. What are we going to do, drink one another under the table? Last one standing gets the girl?" I'm more than a little sarcastic.

Not quite what I had in mind." He reaches for the whiskey and pours a shot into the glass. "All for you big guy. In case you don't remember I'm a recovering alcoholic and I don't plan to fall off the wagon for you."

"Bet you'd do it if it meant you could have my wife," I shoot back and reach for the glass. If he's not taking it, I'm more than happy to.

"Chris, how many times do I have to tell you I'm not trying to take Morgan away from you? If I'd wanted to do that, do you think she really would have gone to Italy to find you?" I'm silent so he continues, "Didn't think so. I want Morgan to be happy and she seems to have gotten into that head of hers that you are the man to make her happy."

I snort and reach for the decanter, pouring myself another shot of the amber colored liquid. "She's got a funny way of showing it. The minute we're even remotely happy she's doing her best to %@*+ things up. Why does she do that?"

"Hell if I know." He shrugs. Then he leans forward, his arms on his legs, and adds, "The best I can figure out, she has trouble letting herself be loved. She's had to fend for herself basically since she was a kid. It's made her a very strong woman, but I think it also made it very hard for her to surrender enough control to be in a relationship. She won't let herself be taken care of. I'm not sure she'll ever figure that part out." He sighs.

I hold up my glass. "Sounds like you've figured her out."

"Don't go jumping to conclusions, Chris. I've had years to figure Morgan out."

"All the more reason for you to use that knowledge for evil purposes," I say dramatically, setting my now empty glass down on the table.

Joe reaches for the whiskey and pours another healthy dose into the glass before he picks it up. That gets my attention and just when I'm about reach over and pluck it out of his hand; he passes it to me once again. "As much as I'd like to convince her to drop you like a hot potato, I know that would be the worst thing I could do. She does love you Chris, even if s he doesn't always show it. And I know damn well you love her. The two of you are meant to be together."

I snort. "You can't figure out my relationship any better than you can figure out your own."

"I may have screwed up two marriages, Chris, but I have learned a thing along the way. Do you think Pam wants to be with you? Cause guess what, I'm here to tell you she doesn't. Sure she's attracted to you, she cares about you, but she doesn't want to be with you. You remind her too much of the past and what she could have had with Tommy. You also have the same disadvantage as I do. We've both been in love with Morgan. Pam doesn't want anything to do with any man who's been around Morgan."

She pretty much told me the exact same thing so I can't call Joe a liar.

"Guess that makes us both losers. Some guy out there is going to be very lucky when she is finally ready to love again."

Joe doesn't say anything to that; instead he looks down at his left hand where his wedding ring used to be. It's about time he had a regret or two over the break up of his latest marriage. He let one hell of a woman slide right through his fingers.

And I think I'm about to do the same.

*************

(JOE)

Chris surprised me by not finishing off the whiskey, drinking just enough to take the edge off of the pain of the cuts and bruises, I guess. Lucky him. I won't lie, it was hard to sit there handing him drink after drink and not indulge. Every time I picked up that shot glass and watched the light shine through the amber liquid inside, I was sorely tempted to let it flow down my throat. But there are so many reasons why I can't. The days and nights of hiding in a bottle are over. I want a better life than that; I want my children to have a better father than that.

We're still sitting in the gazebo, neither one of us saying anything. Not quite sure why I'm still out here or why I stayed out here watching him drink. There's probably still some remnant of our long gone friendship left inside me that I felt responsible for him. Didn't want him getting drunk and wandering off the end of the dock. Or getting behind the wheel of that ridiculous sports car parked in the driveway. That's the last thing the kids need.

Chris leans back against the wooden railings rubs his hands over his face and winces. I got in quite a few good shots on him. Of course he ably returned the favor.

He looks over at me, "So let me get this straight, you claim to be mine and Morgan's biggest supporter and yet you had sex with her? How does that work? "

I know this is the wrong way to go, but I can't help myself. I can't blame it on the alcohol, which is usually what gets people out of hot water when they say things they shouldn't. "If you don't know, that's probably why ya'll are having problems. I'll explain it to you just once. Take notes."

"I should have known you'd act like this is a *@*#%** game," Chris snarls. "It's always been a game; you want what I have plain and simple. You did it with Morgan, then you did it with Pam, and now you're back to Morgan again."

I'm not going to let him goad me into anything but I can't resist commenting, "Didn't realize you ever had Pam for me to steal away. That whiskey is really loosening your tongue, Gaines, anything else I should know about?"

"Pam and I may not have been a couple when you came along but we had a great friendship. You couldn't stand that, could you? You had to do everything in your power to put an end to it. Funny thing is though the more you tried to keep us apart the more determined she was to be my friend. "

I snort. "You have strange definition of friend ship there, Gaines. Seems to me you were more interested in getting her into bed than being her friend."

"Can you blame me? Have you looked at her lately? It's your own damn fault she walked away. You treated her like she was the hired help."

I'm sorely tempted to pop him in the mouth once again, but a quick flex of my aching hand and I decide that's probably not such a great idea after all. "You're a fine one to be offering me marital advice, buddy. You've had how many wives?" I raise an eyebrow and start holding up my fingers one by one.

"$%%% you!" He throws back.

"You're a man of many words, Chris," I tell him with a grin and shaking my head, settle back onto the bench seat. "If you want to be realistic we've both made quite the mess of our marriages. We're both guilty."

"Speak for yourself, you're headed for divorce court."

"And you're not?" I challenge.

"I'd be a hell of a lot further away if you'd stay out of the picture."

"You know, for some one so full of confidence, you seem remarkably willing to lay the blame for all your problems on me," I lightly note but even as I say that, I know I'm only trying to distract him from talking more about Pam. I know I'm going to have to face my guilt in the break up of our marriage, but I'm not quite ready to do that yet. And I'm definitely not ready to do it in front of Chris.

"I know that I've done my share of things to screw up my current marriage, but you didn't have to make it so damn easy for her to always go running to you. Maybe if you hadn't been so willing to welcome her back with open arms, she might have tried a little harder to stay home. Come to think of it your marriage might have been better off too. How many times did you go running to Morgan when you should have gone home? Do you even have a clue how much that hurt Pam? To know that you couldn't love her that way you loved Morgan?"

"Oh and you could have loved her any better?" I snort.

"Probably not. But at least she would have known that going in, I wouldn't have lied to her, let her believe that she was the love of my life. It doesn't matter any more. The way I treated Pam the night I found Morgan in your arms pretty much killed any chance of us even being friends. Nothing happened in Italy. She wouldn't let it."

"Yet I'm the bad guy because I was here taking advantage of Morgan. Is that the way you see things, Chris? That I'm just the evil presence in both women's lives, while you're the knight in shining armor, ready to protect them from everything bad."

"You haven't listened to a word I've said." Chris shakes his head in disgust and slowly gets to his feet. "Go on living in your dream world, Joe. But do Morgan and Pam both a favor. Stay away from them."

"Leave the path clear for you, in other words."

"You really are stupid." He shakes his head again. "For Morgan, yes. Get the hell out of the way. I love her so much it hurts, but this time it has to be her decision whether we stay together or not. As for Pam, that ship has sailed. She wants nothing to do with either of us. Too bad I'm the only one that seems to realize how sad that is. I feel sorry for you Ross, twice now you've let remarkable women get away. I'd be careful if I were you, life is stingy with second chances."

That's advice I should probably heed, as much as I'd prefer to tell him to stick it. Life has given me my fair share of second chances: after I beat cancer, after I quit drinking. Do I dare hope there's still one more out there with my name on it?

I guess only time will tell.

********************

(JOE)

Oh for the days when I was the one at the flight controls. Schlepping through airports with two kids is not my idea of fun. Sixteen hours, three airports and two very cranky children later we've finally landed in Honolulu. Thankfully we don't have much luggage and Hank has arranged a limo to take us all to the resort where we are all staying. A quick trip to the bathroom, with my hand over Lily's eyes, and we make our way to the meeting area.

"Unca GoGo!" Connor yells. He still calls Logan by that name.

"Hey Buckaroo," Logan answers as he sweeps Connor up into his arms for a big hug. "I see you survived the flight," Logan says to me.

"Barely." I joke and we chat for a few minutes about our respective flights. The fact we've all managed to arrive close to schedule is helping renew my faith in commercial aviation. Then I hold out my hand. "Good to see you." Looking around I ask, "Where's your Dad?"

"He and Mom made a pit stop. They will be here in a minute."

"Uncle Logan, where's Sydney?" Lily wants to know, no doubt weary of spending so many hours with only male company.

"She's probably still in the souvenir shop," Logan replies, giving me a look I recognize well.

"Get used to it, take 'em anywhere and the first thing they want to do is shop," I say cheerfully. I'm fibbing just a little, Pam usually avoided the gift shops for the first part of any vacation we took together, she was more interested in checking out the accommodations. That sends my thoughts straight down a path best left deserted and I shake my head and quickly change the topic. "How about your sister and her gang?"

"Not coming until tomorrow," Logan explains just as Annie, Tom and the girls come into view. The instant Lily spots Paige and Meghan she looks at me and I give a nod and she's off racing towards them.

"Hey Dad, you're a sight for sore eyes," Annie greets me with a big hug and a kiss then she steps back. "And you're looking good." She appraises.

It's my turn to take a step back and tease. "As opposed to the last time we were in the same place at the same time and I looked lousy?"

"You know what I mean" she says fiercely, giving me another hug. "And you sound good too. I'm glad."

"You aren't the only one, sweetheart. I feel good and that's been a long time coming."

"Yes it has. And I'm very glad to hear it," she says with a big smile and I just shake my head when I see her looking over me once again.

But there's further distractions when a familiar voice sounds close to where we're standing. "Sorry everyone we didn't mean to hold everyone up," Louise says as her and Hank join the group.

"It's okay Mom we're still waiting on Sydney, I think she's determined to spend all her money here in the airport." Logan chuckles, but he doesn't look the least bit upset about the prospect. I'd say the boy still has that honeymoon glow and I sigh a little at that thought. I might be on my way to another divorce but I can still remember how it feels to be a newlywed. There's nothing quite like it in this world.

The kids surround Hank and Louise, and I watch as they eat up the attention. They are the closest things Lily and Connor have to grandparents. Sydney comes over, bags in hand. Logan greets her with a shake of his head, followed by a lover's kiss. For a heartbeat I'm jealous of him, he's managed to find true love without all the missteps. It just serves to point out what's missing from my life.

"Well I guess everyone is here," Hank says. "And the limo should be here too, so lets' load up and get this vacation started."

"Wait, isn't Pam coming?" Annie asks.

"I got a text message earlier. Her flight has been delayed because of weather. She'll be a couple hours late," Hank announces.

I breathe a sigh of relief. I know I'll have to see her and that a conversation between the two of us is way over due. But I'm glad I get a chance to think about what I want to say to her. The last thing I want to do is ruin this celebration with a huge fight. I'm pretty sure I'll do what I can to avoid that kind of scene, I just don't know if Pam is in that frame of mind yet and I really don't want to find out the hard way. I've promised my brother I'll be a good boy during this family get-together and I plan to keep my promise.

************

(PAM)

We're finally on our way to Hawaii. Yesterday's weather was picture perfect, today some wicked thunderstorms rolled in and we were delayed for ninety minutes. Delays are no fun, but throw in two young children and it gets even less fun. Thankfully I had stuffed one of the carry on bags with snacks, books and toys. The delay did make me wish I was still nursing Jack, it would have been much simpler.

One of the lighter moments occurred once we were on board. Katy had flown so often that she can pretty much repeat the safety briefing. The stewardess noticed and had Katy stand in my lap and do it with her. Katy loved that.

Jack fell asleep shortly after take off as it was his usual nap time. Katy was happy for a while with some new books and just staring out the window at the ground. We have the bulkhead seat first class, Dad got us an upgrade with his frequent flier miles, so there is plenty of room for her to be on the floor coloring and "reading" once the seatbelt sign was turned off.

Now she's the one asleep and Jack is happily chewing on one of his toys. So I take advantage to flip through the Skymall magazine, does anyone actually buy any of this stuff? An automatic paper towel dispenser? A toilet valet? Hmmm the men's terry cloth wrap might look really good on Beck. When he stayed over the weekend he was sick, and I saw him standing there shirtless... be still my heart! Dang, it would have been interesting to see him in a swimsuit. Oh well. I don't really need that kind of complication in my life right now anyway. But damn.

Tucking the catalogue back in the seat back, I notice that someone has left a tabloid in the pocket. I should rip into little pieces, they really are horrid excuses for journalism; but I can't resist. I'm not quite ready to pull out the paperback I stuffed into my bag before we left Dad's apartment this morning, but a quick flip through the stories in the tabloid should help me waste a little more time. And this way I won't have to disrupt Jack while he's still content.

The paper is folded open to a story about Brad and Angelina and I glance over that one, before flipping the page over. Looks like they're giving Jennifer equal time and apparently now she's finally over Brad and thinking about babies herself. Well, good for her I think. Next thing you know she'll be adopting a child from another country just to compete with Angie.

Idly flipping through a few more pages, I learn that George is still determined to be single and is apparently planning to move permanently to Italy. Smart move, George, I applaud. On both counts. Less complications if you're single and I know from experience that Italy is a beautiful country. Maybe some day I'll have another chance to explore it.

Another page turn and it's a two-pager on the latest escapades of the trailer trash crowd, Brittney, Lindsey and the Olsen twins. Aren't their fifteen minutes of fame over yet. Thank goodness Katy is too young to want to emulate any of them. We rarely miss an episode of Hannah Montana however. But so far Miley seems to be behaving herself.

I glance over at Katy, she moves a little in her sleep but doesn't wake up and Jack is now staring out the window. I wonder what he thinks about this? He's been such a good baby so far, then again flying is in his genes.

Turning my attention back to the paper, I turn one more page and immediately wish I hadn't. There in living color staring back at me is my own face. I just manage to stop the curse word that wants to come out. Damn paparazzi! One of them managed to catch us when we were out having lunch. He or she much have been very determined, because there are pictures of us while we are eating, me leaving and me coming back.

And when I say us I unfortunately don't mean Beck and me. The tabloid is splashed with photographs of Chris and me once again. And of course with a little creative cropping and some good angles it makes it look like we're having some cozy tryst during a European getaway. Damn them!

But even as I'm cursing the paparazzi and the gossip rags like this one who give them a venue for their ridiculous photographs, I'm cursing my own stupidity. It's not like this hasn't happened before, in fact it's happened more than once. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson by now but apparently I'm a tough nut to crack. Or just a damn fool.

It's like watching a train wreck, I know I should just close the tabloid and chuck it into the nearest garbage, but instead I find myself scanning the accompanying article, wondering just what it says.

And of course what it says is that Chris is enjoying an Italian holiday while his wife is left at home alone with the kids. That the local music fest was just an excuse for us to have a romantic holiday. It says that because of the connection to Tommy, Chris just can't leave me alone. It even goes as far as to suggest that Chris has had enough of Morgan's depression and other ailments and is looking for some one less damaged.

There is just enough truth in what they print, that Chris probably wouldn't be able to sue, but the pictures sure tell a different story. I'm surprised they didn't bribe a maid for pictures of a rumpled bed and pair that with grainy telephoto shots of Chris and I through a window. Nothing happened that night, but if they had gotten a shot of the hug, who knows what would have happened. No wonder my Dad was questioning me and Carolyn took off.

I hate that I feel guilty when I know nothing happened. I hate that I really can't be friends with this man, I can't touch him or hug him like I can Clay, or Beck, or any other man in my life for fear someone will get the wrong idea. There's just something wrong with that and I swear I feel like standing up and yelling that out to everyone on this plane.

Talk about a way to make everyone think I'm nuts. Shaking my head, this time I do fold the paper in half and jam it back into the seat pocket. The last thing I need is for one of the stewards to walk by and notice the article and start asking questions. Or worse for Katy to wake up and recognize Mommy and Chris in the pictures. No, I have more than enough problems right now, and I don't need this added.

Slumping down in my seat I can't help thinking about the year so far. Six months ago the kids and I were on another airplane heading the opposite direction toward Ireland. I was trying to put as much space as I could between me and Joe. And now we're heading to Hawaii for, of all things, a Ross family reunion. I really must be out of my mind. In another few hours all the distance I've put between me and Joe will be gone and he'll be right there.

What was I thinking?

I was thinking that we need to find a way to make this work for the kids' sake. They love their Daddy and all in all he's a wonderful Dad. It's the husband part that he sucks at. I'm probably as much to blame as Joe is, truth be told we probably never should have gotten married. It happened too quickly; we didn't take the time to really get to know each other, or the time to get over previous relationships.

But as Jack starts to fuss and I set him free from the car seat, I know that there is no way I would go back now and undo my marriage to Joe, I can't imagine my life without him or his sister. Somehow I have to find a way to get past the hurt and the anger and the disappointment. I loved Joe Ross when I married him, head over heels, 'til death do us part, loved him. But he walked all over those feelings until there wasn't anything left.

And now I find myself dreading seeing him again instead of looking forward to. Things really haven't changed all that much in six months, have they?

*********************

(JOE)

The kids have all called it a day, and they've been asleep for a few hours but the adults are still wide awake and enjoying a quiet Hawaiian evening. We've all been sitting on chairs set up on the grassy area between all the cottages. Once again Louise has managed to find the perfect location to host this latest Ross Family reunion. Everyone has their own space but there are more than enough common areas where we can gather. And this common area is picture perfect with a view of the ocean and the sandy beach stretched out before us. We arrived too late to do much but follow the kids as they raced up and down the sand, but first thing tomorrow morning I'm going to suit up, grab a surf board and see just how rusty I am at one of my teenage pastimes.

Glancing over at Hank, I wonder if he still remembers how to hang ten. He must catch me looking at him; suddenly he's getting to his feet and beckoning me to follow. With a grin, I'm more than happy to do so; maybe I can get a small wager going. My brother has always been up for a challenge and I think I know just the one for us to tackle tomorrow.

However as soon as we get away from the rest of the family, I find out that my big brother has other things besides surfing. And he doesn't waste any time getting to the point once we are out of earshot.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he asks me, accenting his point with a shove to my shoulder.

"Umm nothing. I'm here, I'm settled in and looking forward to a great week. But apparently I've done something to piss you off. Want to let me in on it?" I ask him because I don't have a clue what's set him off. Normally I would say it's had something to do with my treatment of Pam, but seeing as how we haven't seen or talked to each other in almost two months, I doubt that's it.

"You slept with Morgan while you were in Minnesota, you ass."

%!@@. How the hell did he find that out? My mind is racing through a million options then I think of the only plausible one. He knows because Morgan told him. She's always looked on my big brother as a father figure and no doubt the minute she got back to Tulsa, she unburdened her soul to him. I can't blame her for wanting someone to talk to, to confide in. Lord knows her husband isn't providing that ear. Or much else in the way of support for that matter.

He's an idiot.

I guess I haven't acknowledged Hank properly; he suddenly reaches out and shoves me again. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Morgan and I are both consenting adults, Hank. Newsflash, we don't need your permission to do anything."

"That's true you are both over the age of consent, but I have my doubts as to whether or not either of you are adults. I know that you still have strong feelings for Morgan; you'll probably love her for the rest of your life. But you sure aren't acting like it. She has enough problems right now; she doesn't need you playing game with her head and her heart. Damn it the two of you need to stop using each other as back up."

"Maybe I'm not playing games, maybe this is an all out war and I'm in this to win her back." I bluff.

Hank looks at me like I'm the dumbest man on earth.

"Do you really want to live through that pain again? Do you honestly think she can stay away from Gaines and be the wife to you she wasn't the first time? What is it with you and him anyway? If I didn't know better I'd think the real I've affair here was between the two of you."

Now it's my turn to look at him like he's dumb. Or insane. Or both. "Yeah, that's what it is Hank, I admit it." I bow down in mock defeat. "You've finally caught me, I'm in love with Chris and I want to shout it from the rooftops." I pause for a moment then I lash out at him. "That man has spent the last few years trying to take every woman I've cared about away from me. Why wouldn't I take the chance to hurt him the same way when I can? Wouldn't you do the same thing if you were in my place?"

"Not at the expense of hurting those women. You're as stupid as Gaines is, Joe. All you ever think about is yourself. What about Pam? What about Morgan? Did you ever stop to think how they'd feel being used as pawns in your battle with Chris?"

"Morgan and I have made our peace with what happened. I encouraged her to go after that ass of a husband of hers. I told her that I would always be here for her.…" Hank crosses his arms and gives me that look that used to scare the crap out of me when I was younger and he was taking care of me. No doubt that fear of being on the receiving end of that look is what kept Logan out of trouble as a teenager. I hold up my hand to stop whatever it is he can't wait to say. "As a friend Hank, a friend. I could steal her away from Chris but eventually she would leave me for him again. Been there done that. "

Hank is quiet after my little speech, probably trying to come up with a new way to ream me a new one.

Finally he says, "And what about Pam? If you had left Morgan alone a little more you might still have a marriage left. She loved you Joe. "

"I know she did," I allow and there's a pang as I think about how much I've hurt Pam. She's been the person in the middle through all of this. She's the one we've all neglected to think of as we continue our twisted little dance. While I can probably argue that she spent so much time with Chris of her own free will, the fact remains that if I had loved her better, if I had given her more of my time, and more of my heart, she wouldn't have felt the need to search out companionship elsewhere.

A sudden thought comes to mind as I study my brother, wondering if this tropical getaway is meant for more than just a yearly family reunion. He's done this before, invited me and my soon to be ex spouse together to see if any new romance would sprout.

"Umm Hank, you wouldn't have invited us here together, to see if you can get a reconciliation going, would you?" I may as well be blunt with him, that's what he understands best.

"I won't lie and say that thought didn't cross my mind. But after talking to Morgan before coming here, I think Pam would be far better off without you." He says and walks away, back towards the fire and the rest of the family.

I can't even say he's wrong. I guess time will tell.

*****************