Pausing before the glass doors, Mike took a deep breath and let it out slowly, in a failed attempt to dispel his anxiety. He was back to the hospital to finish his hours, but it was the thought of running into Eden that filled him with a feeling of anxiety.

For a second, he stood doubting his decision to return. It was Judie's words that stuck to him all evening, compelling him to come back, and so much more than that, she tried to compel him to tell Eden how he felt. While he decided to take her advice to return, he couldn't confess his feelings for it would be pointless to do so. Judie couldn't possibly understand how messed up he was, if she did, she wouldn't be hoping he would end up with her friend.

He took yet another deep breath, before making his way into the hospital. He took the elevator to the third floor, found the janitor's closet, and changed into the grey overall. He easily fell into his daily routine of cleaning and taking out the trash, all the while hoping to catch a glimpse of Eden. He didn't look forward to running into her, but he hoped he could at least catch a glimpse from afar. He missed her, and desired greatly to see her. But Mike was getting used to being denied what he wanted.

Mike forgot about the grief meetings, until he was walking into it. Grace was seated in her usual seat in the middle, with several familiar faces of women seated on seats surrounding her.

She turned briefly at the sound of the door opening, surprise lighting up her eyes. He hadn't seen her since he kissed her.

Forcing a smile to his lips, he offered her a nod in greeting, before turning to exit the room. He would return later, he decided. The last thing he wanted to do was face Grace and try to come up with an explanation for the kiss because there was no explanation, and it meant nothing to him —nothing but a desperate attempt to ease the pain and fill the void in his heart. But he couldn't tell Grace that, she was a lovely woman. He couldn't tell her he had stopped low enough as to try to use her. It was one of the many reasons he couldn't be with Eden; he was selfish.

He ate his lunch in the coffee shop across the hospital, rather than the cafeteria. He was afraid of running into Eden, or Judie. Yet, he found himself settling on the same table Eden had chosen to mourn her patient.

He ran his fingers over the table, vividly remembering how her tears had stained this same spot. He remembered being insensitive to her pain, standing over her and being a complete idiot. He had been the same way the day she broke the news of his daughter's death to him.

Even now, as he sat on the table with his eyes on his bagel, he saw her face; pale. Her shoulders were slouched, and the tip of her nose was pink. It was how he knew Maddie was dead; he saw the grief in Eden. She had been Maddie’s favorite doctor, the two having formed a bond over the year Maddie had been in and out of the hospital. It was simply impossible for Eden to have felt nothing over Maddie’s death. Still, he didn't care. He was too angry to care. The pain he felt in that moment as he struggled to maintain his footing, was like madness.

“Mr. Stacks, I'm so sorry,” she began, two worry lines pulling on the edges of her brows. “Maddie passed away this evening,” she spoke the words his heart already knew, knocking the air out of his lungs.

His fingers trembled, threatening to release their hold on the bouquet of roses, and box in his hand. His world stopped spinning in that second, his heart stopping as well. He lost control of his senses, and his temper with it.

“It's Christmas.” His own gruff whisper filled his ears. It was Christmas! She wasn't supposed to die on the day of Christmas, a day that was supposedly made for celebration.

“I know that Mr. Stacks,” her solemn voice broke through the commotion in his head, somehow gaining his attention, “and I'm really sorry.”

Could those words bring back his daughter?!

He shook his head at the thought; 'sorry' couldn't bring Maddie back. “It's Christmas, the season of good cheers and you know, the bullshit they tell us?!” How could his little girl die on a day the whole world celebrated? How could the world be unwrapping wonderful surprises, while he is left seeing about the burial of his four year old?!

“Mr. Stacks, perhaps there is a family member you would like to call at this time? I know how diff-”

Family? Maddie was all he had left. Maddie was his light in the dark world. Maddie was his family.

Mike didn't remember what he said to Eden, but he remembered the look in her eyes; guilt. He also remembered not caring how she felt. While he had a corpse of a four year old to bury, she had nothing. While she returns to a home, and a family, he had nowhere to return to —nowhere and no one.

He tried returning to the home he shared with Sarah and Maddie before they passed, but he couldn't make it past the front porch. He had turned away from that building that night, and never returned.

When he rose up from the table, he left his coffee untouched, and his bagel, barely eaten. He returned to work in the hospital, running into Judie once in the third floor. She folded her arms at the sight of him, raised her chin, huffed and walked away.

He didn't see Eden, not once throughout his shift.

Tightening his hold on the edges of his jacket, Mike began making his way out of the hospital that evening.

“Mike!”

He paused in his tracks, and turned around. “Grace.” He forced a smile to his lips and watched as she jogged toward him.

“It's been a while.” She paused before him.

He nodded. “It has.”

“I-um...”

“I'm sorry about everything,” he said, knowing he owed her an apology. “I didn't mean to...”

“Kiss me, and bolt?” She raised a brow.

He sighed. “I'm sorry.”

“Need a ride?”

He nodded and followed her out of the building to her car in the parking lot. It was a rundown Toyota, and when the engine came to life, he was somewhat surprised.

Other than give her directions to his apartment, neither one of them said anything else. Content with the silence, Mike turned to the window, finding a semblance of peace in the cold wind blowing on his face.

“Nate told me what his wish was.”

Mike turned to Grace, whose eyes was still on the road before her. “He did.” He nodded, barely surprised.

“Said Santa granted that wish quite early,” she laughed. “If only he knows it cost Santa a kidney to grant that wish. Doctor's letting him go home in two days. We barely have a home to return to, but I don't care. I'm going to take my kid on a ride through this city, and I'm going to have a wide grin on my face through it all.” She turned slightly to him, as the car began slowing down by the curb. She pulled it to a halt, and turned off the ignition.

“I am happy it turned out well for you, Grace. You deserve a merry Christmas.”

She turned fully to him. “So do you, Mike. You have given me the best gift this Christmas; you gave my son back to me. I cannot repay you for that.”

He nodded. “I don't expect payment, Grace.” He reached for the door.

“But I can tell you that she's crazy about you,” her words stopped him in his attempt to exit the car, sending a nervous shiver down his spine, “and so much more than that, I can tell you you're good enough for her.”

Closing his eyes as her words sank into him, he whispered,“You don't know that.”

“I think you figured it out a long time ago, Mike. I think you figured out you are good enough but you're just afraid.”

His heart drummed slowly in his chest. He turned to the side, his eyes immediately locking with Grace's.

“Of loss?” She raised a brow. “When it comes to love, nothing can stop us; nothing but fear. Fear of losing her like you lost Maddie and Sarah?”

Mike knew Grace was right. He had suppressed his fears long enough to ignore them, but as she spoke, he realized that was the true reason he stayed away from Eden; it wasn’t because he thought he was unworthy of her, because he knew he could be better and do better. It wasn't because of Philip, because she had confessed to loving Mike. He could have confessed to loving her in return. He could have embraced love, but fear held him back.

Still he was afraid of loving. How could he love again without experiencing the pain of loss?

“Death is not the only way to lose a person, Mike. When we push them away, we're going to lose them. We're powerless against death, but quite capable of stopping a wedding.” A small smile curved her lips, her eyes lighting up.

Smiling softly, he knew she was right: the pain of not being with her was as the pain of losing her. And surely he could not let his own fears stop him, could he? Sighing softly, he knew what he had to do.

“Want to go for a drive?” he asked.

“Where?”

“Home.”