Elle Steiner couldn't say that she was shocked by what it was she was looking at simply because she knew the man she was married to —the greedy bastard that was her husband.

Letting out a loud sigh, she shoved her anger aside long enough to fold the pieces of paper in her hands and stick them in an envelope. Turning to face the door, she stormed out into the buzzing streets.

“Conniving liar!” She growled under her breath as she marched through the streets —and to think that he had managed to ruin her relationship with her son, Matthew! She thought she knew the extent of her husband's deceit but she had been completely wrong. He would do anything and everything to keep everybody under his manipulative grip.

If she had been less selfish herself, perhaps all of this mess could have been avoided and perhaps Matthew would still be talking to her? She had been wrong, absolutely and completely wrong about everything. She had thought that Matthew deserved to be with Gretchen but then, they had returned from California, after Matthew kicked them out, only to find out that Gretchen was as broke as the next street urchin.

It had all been of no use. She had done nothing but ruin her son's life and her over ambitious husband had been the one holding the reins all these while.

Well, she was going to change that! She thought as she marched down the street and into the post office. She was going to change everything.

~*~

Sharon still had nightmares of herself falling down the stairs, tumbling uncontrollably until she was lying at the feet of Matthew and his mistress while they kissed before her.

It was a nightmare that plagued her every night since the morning she fell down the stairs four months ago. It didn't seem to matter how often she told herself she had nothing to fear or how much she tried to take solace in Gretchen's absence and Matthew's presence, she was as afraid as ever. She could barely dismiss the feeling of loneliness, or the disturbing thought that Matthew was only with her because she was pregnant with his child.

“I will have you under locks and keys and bloody chains if I have to!” His words from weeks ago stayed with her, haunting her every second of every day. “And when that child is born, I will escort you off of my property.”

Like every other night, she laid in bed having the same nightmare. It would always begin with Matthew dragging her down the stairs by her hair. He would drag her through the house and to the front door, ignoring her cries of protests. Once they were outside, he would let go of her hair, stepping back just as Gretchen appeared by his side, holding her child and laughing.

She would stand there on the front porch, admitting to herself that they made a perfect couple and that her marriage was over because of her, and not Gretchen. Still, she would always be unable to turn away. She would instead stand there, crying and yelling her love for him. But it wouldn't matter; no matter how much she yelled in his face, telling him constantly that she loved him, and that she couldn't live without him, he would always be adamant about decision to kick her out.

“Sharon,”

“I love you, Matthew! Please believe me! I love you!” The words poured from her lips as she wept into her hands.

“Blondie,”

“Please!”

Something brushed her forehead.“Wake up, sweetheart, it's only a dream.”He urged, causing her to tear her eyelids apart. Her nightmare gave way to her dimly lit room.

She tried to move, realizing then the strong arms that held her in place; Matthew. He was here, in her room! When was the last time they were on a bed together? She couldn't remember. His decision to maintain separate rooms was another thing that helped to heighten her fears that her nightmare might eventually become a reality.

“Blondie, are you alright?”

Shaking her head, she failed in her attempt to keep her tears at bay. She didn't want to lose Matthew, or their baby, or her home. She didn't want their marriage to end.

“Blondie,” he touched her hair, pulling her further against his chest. “Blondie, look at me,” he urged, nudging her shoulders slightly. But Sharon didn't want to look at him! She couldn't bear the sight of him when she knew she would eventually lose him.

“Blondie,” he urged once more.

Heaving a soft sigh, she turned then, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. She was reminded afresh of her love for him; of how much she wanted to stay here with him forever, to be in his arms, to kiss him...

She stared at his lips, desiring its warmth.

He reached out then, touching her cheek as a slight frown creased his face. “It was only a nightmare,”

Sharon wasn't certain whether it was the words he spoke or the way he said it —as if he heard her thoughts and wanted to reassure her that she was never going to have to live without him— that made her close the gap between their bodies and capture his lips.

She kissed him for several seconds, his body stiff as he stood unresponsive to her kiss. Still, she didn't stop —she couldn't stop. She didn't want to stop.

Placing both her hands against the sides of his neck, her lips explored his face.

Something touched her face then, urging her down until he was claiming her lips. She moaned, tearing her lips apart as his tongue explored her mouth.

His arms circled her form, drawing her forward until she was pressed against his firm chest. The action sent a sharp pain through her abdomen, evoking a small gasp from her lips that was quickly silenced by his kiss.

They must have been kissing for only a short while when she felt the pain again, only this time, it succeeded in forcing her to withdraw from his arms, gasping.

“Sharon?” Concern laced his voice.

She opened her mouth to say she was fine but a yell escaped instead as the full force of the pain shot through her stomach.

Gritting her teeth, her fingers curled around the bed-sheet as she fought to keep from howling.

“Are you okay?!”

She shook her head, deciding she couldn't speak.

“The baby?!” He asked, and she realized that he was most likely right.

She nodded.

“Okay, I'll get Nana to sit with you while I get a doctor.” Fear laced every word, and when he leaned down to kiss her head, she felt his hands trembling. “I'll be right back.” He announced, rising to his feet and hurrying to the door.

She listened to him hurry through the house, and leaned back against her pillow, fear clouding her mind at the possibility of birthing a baby prematurely.