Blake looks back at me and grins. "Hey, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Don't blame me, blame my hormones."

I give him my most disapproving look. "Gross, Blake."

Elbows behind his head, he leans back into the couch and props his boots up on my coffee table. I push them off with my foot. "Don't get all huffy because I didn't approve of your date. You could've done much better. And her dress," I wrinkle my nose and shake my head at him, "was rather unfortunate. Teal? Really? And it barely covered her a.s.s. Don't even get me started on her inebriated state. I was actually embarra.s.sed for her."

Blake immediately cuts me off. "First of all, the girl I really wanted to take was...unavailable. Second, she didn't keep the dress on that long anyway. Trust me." I make a much louder, much more overdramatic gagging sound. I can actually feel the bile in the back of my throat.

Blake rolls his eyes at me and smiles a s.e.xy lop-sided smile. "Third...what do you mean you didn't approve?"

"Okay...that's really gross, Blake. I really don't want to talk about her anymore." I give him a light shove on the leg with my foot. "And of course I noticed. As your first best friend, I reserved my right to judge your dates. I just never said anything." And I did. I remember that now. No one ever seemed good enough for him.

He gives me a satisfied smile. "Okay, we can drop all discussion of Ashley Thompson." He shifts his body to face me. "How old is Rylie again?"

I let out a sigh of relief. Really, that woman gets my blood pressure abnormally high. I sit up and hug my knees to get comfortable before continuing.

"She's four. She's a handful, right?"

"No, not really. I think she's pretty much a normal four year old," Blake says confidently.

"How do you know so much about kids, anyway? Is there something you aren't telling me?" I gasp and point my finger at him. "You're not the father of her illegitimate children are you?"

He lets out a laugh. "Nope, no illegitimate children. But, Rebecca does have two legitimate children of her own. I hang with them all the time. They actually live about thirty miles from me, so I spend a lot of time over there. It gets kind of lonely living by myself sometimes. "

"Oh my G.o.d! I completely forgot to ask you how your sister's doing! I'm such a s.h.i.tty friend, Blake, I'm sorry."

"Alex, it isn't like we've had a lot of time to sit down and chat. We've been kinda busy with bar fights, finger contusions, gla.s.s breaking, Barney and his crazy adventures... don't worry, it's fine," he says with a rea.s.suring smile. "She's good though. Happily married to her college sweetheart. She's the stay at home mom of Jonathon, who's seven years old, and Timothy, who's five years old. She's really happy."

"That's great. I'm glad for her. She was always so sweet to me. I remember that one time I fell down and ripped my skirt climbing your tree and I was freaking out that mom would find out...remember? She sewed it up like that," I said with a snap of my fingers. "Mom never knew a thing. I guess she always had that maternal instinct. Me not so much," I finish with a laugh.

Blake smiles back at me. "Well, I don't know about that. But I do know you have great kids. They each have a different piece of your personality. Even for the short time I've been around them, that's pretty easy to see. They love you so much, Alex. You have no idea how lucky you are."

I nod my head in response. "Yeah, I definitely have great kids. I mean, don't get me wrong. It hasn't always been easy. Especially after Derek pa.s.sed, it was pretty difficult. But they're strong and they made it through the hard parts. I think they're happy. I hope they are at least."

I can tell Blake is shaking his head, but I opt to keep looking at my feet.

"They're strong because of you Alex. You're one of the strongest people I know. You had the strength to make it through the loss of Derek, carrying your children along with you. That couldn't have been easy. And look at how wonderful and loving they are, even after everything that they've had to go through. That's a powerful testament to you and your strength. You should be proud of that, Alex. Not everyone could have handled that. But YOU did."

I let out a sigh, finally picking off the last bit of nail polish from my toes.

"I guess. Honestly, I wasn't sure I was going to make it. Blake, telling those girls their daddy wasn't coming back to this day I don't know how I did it, but they were strong too, and I guess that gave me strength. I think that's why we're all so close. Going through something like that together, well it makes you really grasp how important your life is," I say to him, shrugging my shoulders.

Blake seems to hesitate for a second. I know what's going through his head before he even asks it, and I'm prepared for it.

"Do you mind if I ask what happened that day? The day Derek died?"

Seeing as though I've already met my emotional breakdown quota over the last couple of days, I actually feel okay sharing this piece of my life with him. I find myself wanting to share it with him, like, he needs to know what happened that day in order to really know me. Because of this, I nod my head yes, grab his hand, and begin to tell him my story.

He sits quietly as I tell him about the phone call to the office. I tell him how Harlow drove me to Round Rock and about both of us trying to hold it together. Next, I tell him about seeing the accident on the way his eyes widen in surprise when I describe to him the state of Derek's car as it lay alongside the highway. I go into detail about Derek's appearance when I first saw him in the hospital and how badly he was hurt. Finally, I tell him exactly what happened when Derek pa.s.sed.

He continues to hold my hand, squeezing it to help give me the strength to get through the more difficult parts. And I squeeze his hand back, because I have to keep in mind that although Derek was my husband, he was also Blake's friend. And as difficult as it is for me to relive that day, it's probably just as difficult for Blake to hear. Coming to the end of my story, I find my hand contract around Blake's rather tightly. As I lessen the hold, I tilt my head, shrug my shoulders, and smile a sad smile.

"Then I came home and had to tell the girls that he was gone. That he had an accident and he wouldn't be coming home."

Blake continues holding my hand. "What did you tell them? I mean, how did you explain something like that to your children?"

I shrug my shoulders again. "Well, I explained to them about death, about Heaven, and about guardian angels...because I believe that Derek watches over us to this day. I made sure to tell them that every single bit of him still lived through them. How incredibly blessed they were to have been able to know and understand what a wonderful daddy he was. I let them know that they were so lucky compared to Rylie. She was so young; she wouldn't have many memories of him if any. But they did. I told them that they should hold on tightly to those memories and remember how much he loved them. Remember how he would play horsey on the floor with them, and wrestle, and carry them on his shoulders when taking them to bed. I let them know it was okay to laugh when they remember his silly faces, his tickles, and how he would play Big Bad Wolf or zombie while chasing them around the house."

I find myself smiling as I relay this part to Blake. Derek was a really good zombie. He kinda creeped me out actually.

Blake smiles back and nods his head, encouraging me to go on. He stays silent, allowing me as much time as I need to speak.

"I told them they should smile when they remember his hugs and his kisses, how he would throw them up in the air as high as could, and how he would often fall asleep with them in their bed reading their favorite bedtime stories. I wanted them to be proud of him and to never be ashamed that they missed him. I encouraged them to cry as much as they needed to cry and to talk when they needed to talk. I wanted them to know that even though they lost him, I would always be there for them, to help them. But I didn't really set a great example in the beginning."

I sigh heavily. This part of my life was the most painful to talk about.

"It wasn't easy by any means, Blake. There were some days I couldn't get out of bed. As much as I love my girls, I was just so sad. So sad I can't even put it into words. Completely broken. The pain in my chest was unbearable some days, like my insides were completely hollowed out. Some days I couldn't breathe, some days I would cry all day long, and some days...I couldn't do anything but sit there in my bed because my body was so physically exhausted from the grief. I would just lay there and think about Derek. Questioning how in the world I was supposed to make it without him. He was my life for so long, I didn't know how to live it or even function without him. Thank G.o.d for Harlow and Nancy. They took turns making sure the girls were okay while I dealt with everything. They cooked for them, bathed them, read to them, got them up in the morning, took them to school. They did everything they could to make sure my girls were completely taken care of while I took the time I needed to grieve. I mean, some days were okay, but some days were well...they were just really bad."

I look down at my hand because it's tingling and I realize that Blake's squeezing my hand so tightly, he's completely cut off the circulation in my fingers. When I glance back to his face, I find his eyes wandering all over mine. Surprisingly, for once, it's not the look of sympathy that I have grown to hate over the last three years. His expression is one of such compa.s.sion and tenderness that I catch myself holding my breath.

But I can also tell he's upset about something. The look on his face isn't quite matching up with the death grip he has on my hand.

"Blake, I'm okay now," I say with a smile because, honestly, I'm completely dumbfounded by his reaction. I can't help but find it humorous. I look back down at my hand. He follows my gaze and when he sees my purple fingers, he immediately lets go. I wiggle my fingers to get the circulation going again.

"I only have one good hand left, Blake, please be careful with it," I say with a chuckle.

Before I have a chance to say anything else, he's up off the couch, pacing back and forth through the living room, raking his hand through his hair. He seems extremely aggravated about something. What the h.e.l.l just happened in the last couple of seconds?

I stand up and use my body to block his path. He finally stops pacing.

"What is wrong with you? What's going on? Why are you so upset?"

"It's just I...Alex..."

I put my palm flat on his chest. I feel his heart beating rapidly. "Blake, I'm fine. I promise. What's going on with you?"

He looks away and I move my face into the path of his gaze. "Blake. What is it?"

"I should have been here," he says through his teeth.

I hold his stare. "What? You should have been where?"

"I should have been here, with you," he says emphatically, pointing towards the floor. "I should have been here, Alex. To help you. To make sure you were okay. To protect you. But I wasn't. And you were here, all by yourself. Handling it all by yourself. Dealing all by yourself. All because I couldn't come back here. Because I was scared to come back; scared I couldn't face what was waiting for me here. Scared, Alex," he says a little louder, but catches it and lowers his voice. "Scared. While you were dealing with this s.h.i.t, I was hiding in Colorado. Jesus, that kills me."

I move my other hand up to his chest. It's throbbing almost in time with the rapid beating of his heart. "Blake, that's ridiculous. There's nothing you could've done. I had Harlow and Nancy. And I made it through, eventually. It just took a while. I'm okay now."

I reach up and put my hand on his face. I pull it towards mine until our eyes meet. "Look at me, Blake. I. Am. Fine. And with the way that I treated you...you had no reason to come back here to help me with anything. I don't blame you, so stop blaming yourself."

"That's not an excuse, Alex. I told you that I would always be there for you, even when you didn't want me to be, but I wasn't. Not when you really needed me. I can't imagine what you went through. But to hear that you were in so much pain, so sad... to think I wasn't here to help you through that, to hold your hand, to protect you. I just..."

I turn my hand over and stroke his cheek. He puts his head down and I force him to look at me again.

"Shh, Blake. That's enough. I don't want to hear any of that right now. Derek's death was tragic. It was heartbreaking. It was too much for me some days. But you listen to me. There is nothing you could have done if you were here that would have protected me from that pain. You need to know that. You need to believe that. I refuse to listen to you tear yourself up over something you had no control over. It happened. It's over. I'm fine. End of story."

He says nothing more. He just grabs my wrist and pulls my body into his, being careful not to hurt my hand. He rests his cheek on top of mine and whispers solemnly into my ear, "Never again, Alex. Never. Again."

He leaves his cheek against mine and I feel his breath in my ear. He wraps his big arms around me and we stay like that for some time. The warmth from the closeness of our bodies and the heat of his breath in my ear cause my heart rate to triple. Yet, with my heart beating a million miles a minute, I feel a strange calm. I want to let go of everything. I want to sink my body into his and let him be strong for me. I want to let him take my pain, my sadness, my exhaustion...everything that keeps me from being truly happy. I want his arms to stay around me... his warmth and protection. But as a familiar lump forms in my throat, I know this will never happen.

I can't allow it.

I won't allow it.

Blake is more right than he could possibly know.

Never. Again.

It's around midnight when I finally get around to taking those d.a.m.n pills. Blake and I have a minor "disagreement" regarding me taking them this late at night. Obviously, I don't want to take them so I'll be able to get up with the girls in the morning, but Blake won't hear it. So here I am, at midnight, in the kitchen, glaring at the prescription bottle...again. I absolutely hate having to use these pills to help me sleep. But the truth of the matter is, the pain in my hand is getting worse and I really doubt I will get an ounce of sleep without some major pain relief. I let Blake think he won his stupid little argument, but I take comfort in knowing the decision was all mine.

That doesn't mean I have to like it.

After eating the last couple of pieces of a loaf of bread, I chug some water along with two of the pain pills the doctor prescribed. Putting my gla.s.s in the dishwasher, I hear Blake enter the kitchen. "How ya holding up there, champ?" he asks, grabbing the wadded up bread bag off the counter and putting it in the trashcan.

"I'm good. Just took my pills, so I'm sure I'll be feeling even better soon. I'm exhausted," I say, attempting to cover my yawn.

He smiles at me. "Yeah, me too. Let's get you to bed." He puts his arm around me and gives me a quick squeeze before releasing me. "You need to get some rest; it's been a long day."

"Yeah, it has," I say, walking out of the kitchen. I head to the girls rooms for one last peek to make sure everything is okay. I can't help but smile as I look at them, all piled on Nycole's bed, sleeping peacefully.

"Do you think we need to move them?"

I turn back to find Blake standing directly behind me. I shake my head. "No, they're fine. If they get up, then they get up. I'll deal with it."

"No, you won't. I will. You rest. I've got everything covered," he states quickly. "Otherwise, what's the point of me being here?"

I make sure to exaggerate my groan so he can note my strong objection to having him help me in the middle of the night. "Okay Blake, fine, but promise you'll wake me if you have any problems with them. Kyndall sometimes has nightmares and usually needs me to get into bed with her. Please come get me if that happens."

"Alex, I have experience with kids you know. It'll be fine, I promise. But I also promise that if I feel like they need you personally, then I'll come get you. You have my word." And as I look at his unwavering eyes, I know he will.

I nod my head. "Okay. Let me go get changed and I'll bring you some blankets and pillows for the couch. I'm sorry..." He stops me immediately.

"Alex, it's fine. It's better for me to be out there anyway. That way I can hear if they need something. Don't worry about me sleeping on the couch. Go get your pajamas on, bring me the pillow and blankets, and we'll watch some TV before you go to bed." I nod my head again as I try to cover another yawn. I am so tired right now, words just seem like unnecessary energy expenditure.

I walk to my bedroom, grab my flannel PJ bottoms and one of Derek's old "wife beater" tanks, and throw them on. I pull my hair back in a headband, no ponytails for a while obviously, wash my face, one handed of course, and brush my teeth, that was an interesting adventure. Then I head to the closet and grab extra sheets and pillows for Blake. I head out to the living room where he's sitting on the couch, fully dressed, flipping through the channels.

"Blake," I say, throwing down the sleeping essentials for him on the couch, "let me get you something to sleep in. I'm sure I have some of Derek's old stuff you could use."

"No, Alex, it's okay...I wouldn't want to"

"Shut up, Blake. It's fine. They're just sitting there. There's no reason for you to sleep in your clothes." I take note of how good he still actually looks. Must be nice to have had a s.h.i.t day, but still look freakin' awesome.

"Well," he hesitates. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

"If it was anyone else but you. But it is you, so no, I don't mind." I turn and walk back into the bedroom. I approach the drawer that contains Derek's old sleepwear. I grab an undershirt and some pajama bottoms. While holding his clothes, I gently place my hand on them and take in a deep breath. I'm surprised that the knowledge of handing it over to Blake doesn't bother me. I'm surprisingly okay with it. I let out the breath, carry the clothes into the living room, and place them on his lap. Taking them from me, he stands up and lingers for a minute, but eventually makes his way to the girls' bathroom.

When Blake emerges, I take in a deep breath through my nose, hold it my lungs and brace myself against the couch. I know it is my imagination, but for a split second, I swear it's Derek walking out of the bathroom. An electrical shock whizzes through my entire body, and by the time my brain grasps the fact that it is just Blake, my heart is already nearly beating out of my chest.

Blake watches me for a second, as though trying to make sure I'm okay. I give him a weak smile. "Sorry, it just took me a little by surprise."

"Alex, if it bothers you, I can"

"No, Blake. It's okay, really. It was just a bit of a shock. It's fine, I promise. If I wasn't comfortable I would let you know," I say, attempting to persuade both of us. I've opened up so much to him tonight; I'm not going to let something as small as seeing him in Derek's clothes ruin how far we've come this evening. I shared things with him that I haven't even shared with Harlow. This friendship is important. I trust him, and he needs to know that. Even though I'm still a little freaked out, I smile and add, "Let's see what's on TV before these pills take me to never-never land."

We both plop down on the couch. He sits at the other end, obviously trying to give me s.p.a.ce if I need it. So to let him know I'm okay, I turn so I can put my feet in his lap and lay back on the throw pillow behind me. Putting my hurt hand above my head as I lay there, I grab the remote and start flipping through the channels.

We ultimately end up on The Breakfast Club, laughing at the coincidence because we lived and breathed this movie growing up. As we watch it now, in my living room sitting side by side, I feel like I'm twelve years old again. We laugh with each other as we quote our favorite lines from the movie out loud.

We're right in the middle of the scene where Jon Bender is re-enacting the life at 'Big Bri's' house. As soon as fishing and doing homework on the boat are mentioned, I turn to Blake, excitement flooding my features.

"Oh my G.o.d! Blake! That totally reminds me! I was going through some things the other day and I found something very interesting!" I bolt up excitedly to fetch my recently found treasure. Unfortunately, as soon as my feet hit the ground, the room starts spinning around a full 360 and I fall back to the couch. Okay, the pain pills are definitely working, which makes sense seeing as though I just jumped up without feeling any pain in my hand at all.

Blake is immediately in front of me. "Alex, we can just do it later. Seriously, you can't even stand up right now," he says with concern in his eyes.

Annoyed, I start to push myself off the couch but I'm unable to find my balance. I fall back onto the couch. Blake lets out a laugh.

"Why don't you just tell me what it is and you can show me tomorrow, when you're not under narcotic influence."

"Ha-ha, Blake," I say sarcastically. "You're the one who made me take the d.a.m.n things, so you lose all right to make fun of me." I think I'm starting to feel a little drunk. I sigh loudly and notice my face feels numb. I rub it with my hand and pull my lip out. I'm not surprised when I don't feel a thing.

With a chuckle, Blake grabs me under my knees and arms and whips me against his chest. I'm completely off the ground. I look down and start giggling.

"So thisiswhat.i.tfeelslike," I start to slur.

Still chuckling, Blake asks, "What what feels like?"

I roll my eyes because all of a sudden, I'm super annoyed he doesn't understand what I'm saying. "h.e.l.lo! To be this tall...you're a freakin' giant!" I laugh to myself because I have just become the most hilarious person in the world.

Blake looks at me, his eyes full of amus.e.m.e.nt. While he's staring, I allow myself to gaze into them. My face is dangerously close to his, so close I can feel the heat from his skin. I peer into his beautiful green eyes, feeling strangely sober all of a sudden. I inhale a quick breath. "Yeah, things definitely look a lot different from up here."

I begin to feel the room starting to spin again so I stick my head into his neck and breathe in his scent. Leather and soap. "Mmm," I let out as I smile to myself. I feel so peaceful.

It's so nice, that I almost protest when he lets go of my body to lay me down on my bed. Sadly, I'm too tired to put up the necessary fight. So I lay there as he fluffs the pillow behind my head and pulls the covers up to my neck. I put my arms over the covers and smile a drunken smile.

"Blake, I'm so glad you're here. You make my life...happy..." I say as I begin to feel the heaviness of my lids. Jeez when did my eyelids become one hundred pound dumbbells?

"Thank...you..." is all I can manage to get out before sleep finds me. And for the first time in years, I don't dream about Derek's death or sadness or darkness. I dream about lakes and fishing and warmth from the sun with a beautiful boy in front of me. I can't see his face. All my eyes can gather is how the sun just barely peeks though the strands of his light brown hair. The vision soothes my soul. And as I continue to sleep, I find my heart completely enveloped by a warm ray of peace and tranquility... providing a brief solace from the pain and emptiness I'm so used to greeting me every night.

Waking the next morning, I extend my arms above my head and stretch the entire length of my body, all the way to my toes. The warmth of the sun hitting my face reminds me of my peaceful slumber. My heart feels full of joy. So much so, that I'm pretty sure this goofy grin is stuck on my face for a while. Well, I hope it is anyway.

I let out a content sigh and smile as I bring my arms back over my head. I catch sight of my hand as it pa.s.ses in front of my face. I'm pretty sure these throbbing fingers were not part of my peaceful slumber, but I continue smiling because it seems that not even that can bring me down right now. I sniff the air and my stomach rumbles as I notice the distinct smell of bacon in my house.