"I have come to accept that my Lia is gone, and that nothing is bringing her back."

His words made me sick to my stomach. His Lia.

Yesterday, I had been on cloud nine. Today, I've come crashing back to the ground.

His abrupt departure this morning confused me and then, when he handed me those papers, everything made sense.

I had actually managed to push my husband away by...

My mind tries to remember every detail of last night.

Gripping, pulling, tasting.

Something happened. Something clicked in his mind that made him realize this wasn't what he wanted.

He used to tell me it was me or no-one. I realize now that it's either the older me or no-one, and it's a painful realization.

-

"Dad?" I croak when my father answers his phone after the third ring. "Can the kids and I come stay with you?"

"Of course, Sweetheart." The resonance of his voice helps to soothe my aching heart. Everything in my life seems to have changed except my father's natural instinct to love and protect my brother and I. "That husband of yours starting to travel again?" He asks, continuing to speak without waiting for my answer. "You should leave the kids with us and go with him, it'll be good for you marriage."

"We signed divorce papers today, Dad."

There's an eerie silence that follows.

"Dad?"

"Amelia, I know it's hard right now, Sweetheart, but-"

"He asked, Daddy." I cry, a traitorous tear sneaking out. I feel like a small child again, crying about things out of my control. "He's not happy, he doesn't want me."

I never realized it was possible to be jealous of yourself but I know now that it is.

His Lia has so many good memories. His Lia has his love. His Lia has him.

-

"Mom!" Xander gets out of the patrol car he's pulled into the driveway of my childhood home, and starts running toward me.

Cameron left for his office hours ago, his parting words being 'let me know if you need anything' just before he walked out the door.

"Mom," My son pulls me too him. "Don't worry." He breathes into my hair. "Pops told me everything, I'll talk to Dad, it'll be okay, I'll fix it."

"Xander, there's nothing to fix." I pull away, looking him. He's still the same boy he was twelve years ago, the same fearful boy just trying to keep his family together.

I was supposed to give him a family that he didn't have to keep together and I failed.

"I'm sorry, Xander. I'm so sorry."

-

Meghan is the next to storm into my parents home.

"When you told him you loved him, what exactly did you say?"

She storms up to me, gripping my shoulders as if this is a life or death situation. Her red hair is tied up in a sloppy bun, nestled loosely at the top of her head, and her green eyes are sparked with a serious intensity.

"Well I didn't actually say-"

Her hand leaves my shoulder to be held up in front of my face while her eyes, flickering with impatience, close.

When they reopen, a chill passes through me. I'm in trouble and I have no idea why.

"You didn't tell your husband you loved him?"

"I love you."

"Mhm."

"I love you."

"Ahhh."

"Well, no, but-"

"Oh my gosh. And I guess you really did call Ryan too?"

"How-"

She lets out a frustrated breath while shaking her head. Then she mutters something like 'You can't hit a pregnant woman.'

"How do I know?" She asks the question I had been trying to ask. "Because your husband told me."

"Oh yes," She reads the shock on my face. "He heard, and he's convinced himself that you want to be with Ryan which is why he got the papers. He thinks it'll make you happy."

"But I don't want a divorce!" I shout so frantically my voice gives out. "I love him."

"Amelia," She sighs, sounding like a disappointed mother, and I look up at her. "I don't know what else to say, other than tell him, say the words so he knows."

-

"Amelia." Cameron whispers, relief quickly replacing the panic in his voice as he looks at me.

"I'm married."

"Good morning." I whisper, clenching the white bed sheet that covers me more tightly. His eyes, currently wandering over me, as if to convince him I'm truly there, make me feel conscious of my dress, or lack there of. "Has your memory caught up with you yet?"

He swallows thickly. His green eyes finding mine and remaining unmoved.

"I love you." I whisper to his stunned form. "I love you the way a wife should love her husband."

Wordlessly, and looking quite dazed, he reaches up to brush the back of his hand against my cheek.

When my fingers curl around his wrist, his eyes jump to his hand then back to me.

After a moment, I press the gentlest of kisses onto his inner wrist.

He suddenly launches forward, his hands gripping my face, his forehead resting against mine.

"I can burn the papers?" He questions, his breath fanning my lips, causing a series tremors to roll through my body.

"Please do."

"Tell me again." He says, not loosening his grip on my face, nor moving his forehead.

Although he doesn't says what he's referring too, he doesn't need to clarify, I know exactly what he wants said.

"I." I lift my face to press my lips against his forehead.

"Love." My lips peck his nose.

"You." This time, my lips mold to his.

And then he shows me how a husband is supposed to love his wife.