Sheridan lifted the house key, ready to insert it into the lock when the door suddenly opened from the inside. She stepped away from the overhead porch light, waiting. Whoever it was, she didn't want them to see her too closely. Her eyes were no doubt red from crying, and her face streaked with dry tears. She recognized his voice as he said good-bye to Miguel over his shoulder and saw the shock on his face when he turned to find her standing there.

"What are you doing here?"

Sheridan stared at the figure standing in the doorway with dismay. She'd hoped to sneak into Luis' old room without anyone knowing, she was tired, hurting, she just wanted to be alone. But now she would have to wait, she would have to explain why she was there. With a weary sigh, she blurted out the first excuse that came to mind. "I came to see Pilar."

"At this hour? She's already in bed," he said, then suddenly he stepped out onto the porch with her, closing the door silently behind him. "Is something wrong?"

He was standing right in front of her now, and she couldn't move further back into the shadows without him noticing. "No."

He didn't believe her. She could see the concern on his face, hear it in his voice. "Why are you really here, Sheridan?"

It was useless to continue lying. If she did, he would know. And then he would be even more worried about her then he already was. "Luis and I had an argument," she explained, keeping her voice light. She didn't want him to think it was anything more than a disagreement between a husband and a wife, one that would be quickly resolved and forgotten the next day. But his scowl told her he wasn't buying it. He stared at her wordlessly, waiting for her to continue. She did, reluctantly. "I left . I needed a place to stay." She prayed he would accept her explanation and leave it at that, but she knew he wasn't going to.

"What did you argue about?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

He didn't say anything for a moment, just watched her. "You could have come to me," he said softly, his eyes searching hers, then suddenly his voice turned bitter. "Or were you afraid of what people might think if you did?"

She answered him calmly. "I don't care what other people think about my spending the night at your home. But I do care what Luis would think."

He tucked his hands into his pockets and gave her a wry smile. "Why? Doesn't he trust you?"

His question broke her. "That's just it," she whispered, unable to keep the hurt out of her voice. "I'm not sure." She fell silent, thinking about Luis' earlier words. "I watched you," he'd said. He thought she was lying to him, that she was seeing Antonio behind his back. It wasn't true. The only reason she hadn't mentioned running into Antonio was to avoid another argument. She hadn't wanted to make things worse between them, especially at a time when she needed him the most. It hadn't even been worth mentioning. It was a chance meeting, innoccent, meaningless.

She looked up to find his gaze focused on her neck. She hadn't looked at herself in the mirror, but she knew Luis had left marks on her. She resisted the urge to lift a hand to cover her exposed throat. "You're staring," she said.

He lifted his eyes to hers, and she realized that he was mad. "You wouldn't be here right now if it was just a simple argument," he said, his forehead creased in concern as he looked at her. "What really happened?" He suddenly hesitated, his eyes moving over her, searching for bruises that weren't there. "He didn't...hurt you did he?"

"No," she said, angry that he would even think such a thing. "How can you even ask that?" Folding her arms across her middle, she looked away, saying softly, "It's not what you think."

He was silent. "I hope not, for Luis' sake," he said finally. "If I find out he ever laid a hand on you---"

"Look, I appreciate your concern, Antonio," she interjected gently. "But you have nothing to worry about. Luis would never hurt me, he loves me." Loved me, she corrected herself silently. She wondered where he was at that moment, what he was thinking. Dare she hope that he regretted letting her walk out on him.

"I love you too, Sheridan. And I can't stand to see you so unhappy."

She was tired, so damned tired. She wanted to crawl into bed and stay there forever. She wanted to be left alone. "Don't worry about me," she said lightly, hoping he would let it go. If he wanted to continue their discussion another time she would be okay with it, but just not now. She'd had all she could take for one night. She closed her eyes for a moment, too exhausted to keep them open. "I'll be fine."

She felt him move closer to her, felt his hand cup her face. "Are you all right?" he asked softly.

Sheridan opened her eyes, nodding weakly. "Just tired."

"Get some rest," he said, dropping his hand to her shoulder. "If you need anything, just call me. I'm here for you."

Again she nodded. She wanted to smile, to give him some sign of reassurance that she was fine, but she was too miserable to even make the effort.

"Good night," he said.

Sheridan whispered her goodnight, and watched him hesitantly turn to leave. She went inside, closed the door behind her then leaned back against it. The house was dark, peaceful. She didn't want to move, but she forced her tired feet forward, quietly making her to the tiny bedroom at the end of the hallway. As she stripped off her clothes, she stared at the bed with it's soft cotton sheets and fluffy white pillows. It seemed like ages since the day she'd made love to Luis in that bed. It was summer, only days after he'd told her he loved her. They'd been in the living room watching a movie with Theresa and Ethan. She'd ended up falling asleep before the movie was over and when she woke up she was alone with Luis, his mouth at her breast. He kissed his way up, whispering his need against her mouth. He couldn't wait to have her, he wanted her there and then. So he'd carried her into his bedroom and he'd made love to her, not caring that his mother was sleeping down the hall, not caring who knew what they were doing inside that room.

There was no love or need when he'd taken her tonight. It was loveless, without tenderness or sweetness. If he was trying to make her feel worthless, he'd succeeded. If he wanted to be free of her, then she'd granted him his wish tonight. If a divorce is what it took to make him happy, then she would give it to him. She would miss him, ache for him, cry for him, but she wouldn't go back to him. She wasn't desperate and she wasn't weak. She would survive this like she'd survived everything else.

Her decision had too many regrets to count, but the biggest regret was for her unborn child who would never have a real family. She'd avoided telling Luis she was pregnant for almost three weeks, afraid of his reaction to the news. She wondered how he'd react after tonight. Would he ask her if she was sure it was his? And if he did, would she be able to bear it? Whatever his reaction, she had no intention of keeping her pregnancy from him. Besides, if he'd already found the gift box, he knew by now. It was just as well, it would save her from seeing the look on his face when he found out. Just hours ago, she'd thought she would see joy on his face when he opened her gift, right now she could only picture disappointment on his face. Tomorrow she would think about what she was going to do, where she was going to go. But tonight, she wanted only to mourn her unbearable loss of man she loved.

He entered the old building, taking the stairs to the second floor, and knocked on the door. No one answered. He knocked again. Finally, the door opened and he found himself staring into his brother's resentful eyes. He knew, Luis realized. And that could only mean that either Sheridan was there with him, or she'd been in contact with him.

"Is she here?" Luis asked, his voice sullen.

"Who?" His hair was rumpled and he wasn't wearing a shirt. He looked like he'd just gotten out of bed.

"My wife. Who else," he said, fighting for control.

He stared at him hard. "No," he said. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorjamb, watching Luis through angry eyes. "What makes you think she'd come here? You really don't trust her do you?"

"I trust her," Luis replied calmly. "It's you I don't trust." It was the truth. God knew Sheridan had had plenty of opportunity in the short duration of their marriage to cheat on him. He was at work more hours than he was at home; if she'd chosen to see someone behind his back it would have been too easy. But she hadn't. She loved him. She'd been making every effort to make things work between them while he'd done nothing but make things more difficult. He wondered now if it had all been some kind of cruel test. Had he purposely been pushing her away to see how much she could take, how much she loved him?

"I'm not going to steal her away from you, if that's what you're worried about," he said, bringing Luis out of his musings.

"I'm not." he replied, turning to leave. He didn't have time to stand around and discuss his wife with his brother. He had more important things to do like finding her. He had a sick feeling htat he would never see her again. It didn't help that she had a habit of running away from her problems rather than facing them. If he'd never followed her to Paris that first year, would they still have been apart to this day? No. They would have found a way back to each other somehow.

"I won't have to."

Antonio's cool confident words halted him and he turned back to face him. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

"It means that I won't have to do a thing to get her back. Sheridan will come back to me as I've always known she would."

Luis stepped closer to his brother, until he was standing face to face with him. His hands were clenched into fists, but he resisted the urge to use them. "You're fooling yourself if you actually believe that."

"Am I?"

"What the hell makes you think she'll ever go back to you? She wasn't even herself when she met you. She had amnesia, or have you forgotten?"

His cool expression suddenly crumbled, his eyes darkened in a way Luis had never seen before. "Because I ran into her not too long ago, and she made it clear enough she didn't want anything to do with you."

It had become obvious some time ago that Sheridan wasn't with Antonio. But he'd seen her tonight, he'd just admitted as much. He wanted to ask him where, but his stubborn pride wouldn't let him. Besides, he already knew Antonio wouldn't tell him. Not when he wanted her for himself. The anger he'd been trying to keep under control for the past several minutes suddenly snapped. "And you planned out your whole future with her based on that?" he said tauntingly.

"She still loves me," he said fiercely. "I know she does."

"What the hell makes you think I'm going to stand by and let you interfere in our life. She's my wife, I love her. I would do anything to keep us together."

"How can you claim to love her when all you do is hurt her?"

Luis didn't respond, fearing his response would be physical. "Aren't you even going to defend yourself?" Antonio asked. "Of course your not. Because you know I'm right."

Luis knew he should turn around and walk away before his temper got the best of him. He wouldn't hit his brother, it wouldn't solve anything. Antonio was angrier than Luis had ever seen him, and he understood his reasons. Hell no one was angrier than Luis was with himself, he'd messed everything up. He'd let the only woman he'd ever loved walk out of his life. There would be other days for Antonio to rip him apart, just not today. The best thing to do was just walk away. But he never got the chance to do the right thing, Antonio took that choice away from him the moment he grabbed him by his shirt, shoving him against the nearest wall. "You bastard, you don't deserve her."

Luis' last bit of control snapped and he shoved back. That's when things turned really ugly.

He didn't go back to the cottage, knowing he woudl find it empty. Heading in the opposite direction, he drove the shorter distance to his mother's house, parking in the alley behind the house. He entered the kitchen silently, not wanting to wake anyone. The last thing he wanted was to run into his mother. She would ask him how he got the cut on his cheek bone and he would have to tell her the truth. And of course, she would immediately side with Antonio, her first born son, as she always did. No, he definitely didn't want to see his mother right now.

He found the aspirin, popped four tablets into his mouth and washed it down with a cup of coffee, then headed down the hall towards his room. Before doing anything, he needed a shower and shave, he didn't need a mirror to know he looked like hell. He closed the door to his room as quietly as possible and stepped out of his shoes. It wasn't until he turned around to head into his shower that he noticed her. She was in his bed, wearing his T-shirt, sound asleep. He stood there staring at her, wondering if he was imagining things. After several minutes he decided he wasn't imagining anything, she was really there. He eased himself down on the edge of the mattress beside her, watching her over his shoulder as she slept, his heart filled with relief.

She didn't sleep for long, she came awake slowly, sighing as she rolled onto her back. She stared at the ceiling, her eyes heavy with sleep, then slowly her gaze came to rest on him.

"I've got to give you credit for finding the perfect place to hide from me," he said, his voice low, tired. "I would never have thought to look for you here."

She bit her bottom lip, remaining silent. She didn't look at all happy to see him. "Who told you I was here?" she asked finally, her voice husky from sleep.

"No one," he said. "I just stopped by to take a shower and found you instead."

"Are you disappointed?" she asked, her voice merciless.

He turned on the bed to face her, a mistake. She noticed his injured cheek bone immediately. "What happened to your face?" she asked, leaning forward to touch the tear Antonio's fist had caused. But her hand stopped just short of making contact as she realized what she was doing. She dropped her hand, her face expressionless once again. Wordlessly, she got out of bed, and walked into the adjoining bathroom, leaving Luis with the image of her wearing his T-shirt and not much else. She returned a moment later with a wet wash cloth. Sitting down on the bed in front of him, she wiped away the dry blood around the wound. She pressed harder, making him wince, and he thought she might be enjoying it. But when he opened his eyes, he only saw concern on her face. "I think you might need stitches," she said softly, setting the cloth on the night stand.

"I'm fine."

"What happened?" she asked again.

Reluctantly, he said, "I pissed someone off."

"Who?"

He didn't want to tell her, not right now anyway. But he didn't want any lies between them. He wanted everything out in the open, even at the risk of starting another argument with her. "Antonio."

"Luis," she said, her voice mournful. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," he replied tightly. "Why do you automatically assume it was my fault. He hit me first." He knew he sounded childish, but it was the truth. He'd wanted to walk away but Antonio had kept pushing him until he'd finally snapped. Although if he was honest with himself, he would have to admit he was just as much at fault.

"You went to his apartment didn't you?" she said, getting angry. "You thought I'd gone there. What were expecting to find, me in bed with him?"

"No," he said, raising his voice. He paused, taking a long breath. "I was desperate okay. I needed to find you. I was afraid you'd leave town."

"I thought about it," she admitted quietly.

"What stopped you?"

She remained silent for a long time, her eyes focused on the bed. "I'm pregnant."

"I know," he murmured, bringing her gaze back to his.

"It's yours," she said calmly.

"I know that too. I never had a single doubt that it wasn't, Sheridan." He reached up to caress the side of her face, something he hadn't done in a long time. "But I can see why you'd think I would. I've been acting like a jealous idiot ever since I found out you were engaged to my brother...that you were lovers." The words were still hard to speak with any level of calmness. He hated the thought of his brother being intimate with Sheridan. But what he hated more was hurting her. "I've been taking all my frustrations out on you. And I'm sorry. So sorry." He paused, his eyes searching hers for forgiveness. "Say that you'll give me another chance, Sheridan. I promise I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us again."

Sheridan closed her eyes, feeling her resolve weakening. His words were sincere, she knew. But she still had so many doubts, doubts he'd caused. She got off the bed, turning away from him to look out the window. The sun was up, a new day was beginning. But she still felt trapped in the previous day, with all it's misery and pain.

"Why do you want to make things work now, Luis. Your feelings couldn't have changed that easily," she said voice soft and even. "I doubt one night was enough to make you forgive and forget the whole year I spent with your brother. "

"I never blamed you." "Actions speak louder than words." She was aware that she wasn't wearing anything except a T-shirt and panties. She should get dressed. She could deal with Luis better if she wasn't half naked. She wouldn't even be able to walk out on him if she wanted to, dressed the way she was.

She heard him sigh. "You're not going to make this easy are you?"

"No."

He grabbed her hand, turning her around to face him. She looked dwon at his face, his pleading eyes, and she wanted to forget everything else. But the ache in her chest prevented that from happening. The memories of the night before were too fresh and too hurtful to just forget.

"I love you Sheridan," he said, his voice desperate. "I don't want to lose you."

"Are you sure it's me you don't want to lose, Luis?" she asked. "If you're worried about me taking your child away from you, don't be. I wouldn't do that."

"That's not---" he began angrily, then stopped, closing his eyes for a moment before slowly opening them to look up at her again. "God I hate seeing you doubt my love for you."

"Well you have no one to blame but yourself," she said, holding back a sob. She couldn't hold back the tears though, they slid warmly down her face despite her promise not to cry. She tried to pull her hand free from his, but he wouldn't let her go. He pulled her closer, between his knees, and buried his face against her chest, his arms wrapped securely around her.

"You're right," he said in a low voice. "I have only myself to blame. But I can't control the way I feel Sheridan. The thought of you still having feelings for my brother makes me crazy. When I saw you with him yesterday, I wanted to kill him."

"I ran into him Luis," she said, lifting her hand from his shoulder to stroke his hair. "We had coffee together, we talked for a bit. That's all."

"It looked like more than that to me," he said quietly.

"How are we ever going to work things out if you don't trust me," she said sadly. "I care about Antonio, I always will. But I love you, and only you.......it breaks my heart that you don't believe me."

"I do," he said firmly, lifting his face to look up at her. "But I admit that a part of me wasn't sure. After we got married I started wondering if I pressured you into it. I couldn't help but think that if I'd given you more time to figure out your feelings, your decision might have been different."

Any misgivings she was still holding onto faded as she looked into his eyes, until they just ceased to exist. She touched his face lovingly. "You didn't pressure me into anything," she said, her voice soft, yet firm. "I wanted to marry you." Lowering her head, she tentatively touched her lips to his, whispering, "The only thing I ever wanted was to be your wife."

"Sheridan." Before she knew it, she was sprawled on the bed on top of him, lost in the most wonderful kiss. For the first time in three months, she didn't feel the underlying coldness behind his desire. Instead of rushing to get it over with as he usually did, he rolled her onto her back, taking his time to undress her and pleasure her. He entered her slowly, kissing her mouth as he moved inside of her. Unlike the night before, she didn't want it to be over quickly, she wanted it to last forever. He waited for her to come first then allowed his own orgasm to take over his body, spilling his seed deep inside her. Afterwards, he didn't pull away from her, he held her. For the first time in almost three months, he held her. It was the way it used to be, the way it was supposed to be.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked almost an hour later.

"Leaving Harmony."

"What?" Sheridan lifted herself up on one elbow to look at him. "Is it because of Antonio?" she asked softly, her heart sinking. Weeks ago, she'd still been clinging on to the hope that with enough time, Luis and Antonio could work out their problems. But it had soon become clear that that would never happen. She'd caused a rift between them that was too wide to ever close.

"No," he said, raising a hand to caress her cheek. "It has nothing to do with Antonio or anyone else. It's something I've wanted to do for a long time. Since I was in high school, in fact. But it's entirely up to you, it has to be your decision. If you don't want to move, we'll stay right here."

"I don't care were we live Luis, as long as we're together. But are you sure it's what you want? Your family is here." Pilar would be devastated to learn that her son wanted to leave Harmony.

"I've stayed in Harmony for my family, they needed me," he said. "But they don't anymore. Theresa and Miguel are all grown up and have their own lives. And Mama has Antonio now. For once, I want to concentrate on my life, our life."

The more Sheridan thought about it, the more she liked the idea. "Where do you want to go?"

"California. I've always wanted to live there."

"California.......sounds wonderful," she whispered, trying to picture their life there. She'd always wanted a house on the beach. She would miss Harmony of course, as would Luis, but she suddenly couldn't wait to start their new life together, far away. They still had so much to work through, and she wasn't sure they could do that in Harmony. There waw too much outside interference, too many people who didn't want them to be together. Luis was sure Julian and Alistair were behind the boat explosion in Bermuda. Her own father and brother had tried to kill her to protect their dark secrets. They would try again now that she was with Luis again. She didn't want to run away. She wanted to show her father and everyone else that there was nohting in the world that could tear her and Luis apart. But that had changed the moment she found out she was pregnant. She had their baby to think about now. She didn't want to live the rest of her life looking over her shoulder. She wanted a safe peaceful life, with the man she loved. If leaving Harmony would give her that, then she couldn't think of a single reason to stay.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly. "I don't know about you, but I don't know anyone in California. It'll but just the two of us."

Sheridan guided his hand to her belly. "Three of us," she corrected him softly. "And yes, I'm sure."

"Three of us, " he repeated, his palm warm against her abdomen. She felt tears fill her eyes as he leaned forward to kiss her mouth. "I like the sound of that."