Judie succeeded in sneaking Mike out of the hospital that evening. It was an odd mixture of fear and excitement; fear that they would get caught and excitement at the thought of seeing Eden.

But he didn't see Eden.

They arrived at her home that evening to the disappointing news of her absence. She was with Philip, her grandmother had informed them. Then, she offered to host Mike while Judie spent the evening with Henry.

Highly uncomfortable, and desiring to return to his sick bed so he could mourn his miserable life, Mike reluctantly agreed.

"So, are you married?" Lynette made her way to him carrying two glasses of wine in her hands. Handing a glass to him, she settled on the couch beside his wheelchair and turned to stare at him through her glasses.

"I was married." He nodded in appreciation, taking a sip of his wine. Again, he was disappointed it didn't contain alcohol. He had been hoping to use the alcohol to numb his highly overactive emotions. Maybe he was starting to go crazy due to his lack of alcohol? Maybe it explained his highly annoying desire to see Eden.

"Divorced?"

He turned to Lynette then, seeing the resemblance between her and Eden. While her hair was completely grey, and her lips a little thinner than Eden's, both women had blue eyes, pointy noses, oval faces, and quite a flair for digging into other people's businesses. A flair he decided there and then, that he liked. Lynette didn't ask about his personal life because she was looking for some dirt on him, she asked because she cared. And so did Eden.

Eden showed up on that bridge that evening to stop him from killing himself, because she cared. She found his apartment and forced him back to work, because she cared. She brought up Maddie so many times because she cared.

Taking yet another sip of his wine that did nothing to calm his nerves, he shook his head. "She died... And so did our little girl."

Lynette frowned. "Must have been tough. I remember when my Joseph died. I've spent the last thirty years missing him."

"You have?"

"Oh, of course. You never stop missing a loved one that's dead. It's always the toughest when you have to do something you used to do together, all alone."

"The pain doesn't go away." He drained his cup.

Lynette shook her head. "It doesn't..." She sighed and placed her cup on the table. Turning fully to him, she said, "when Eden was a little girl, her mother left. She was about four at the time, and I had to raise her all by myself. I was a little old, and I desired nothing else but to enjoy my retirement, and move to an island somewhere where we're allowed to move around naked." She laughed. "All of that went down the drain when my silly daughter dumped a four year old on my doorstep. Needless to say, we were both frustrated. Neither of us took the news very well, and Eden, well, it was harder on her. She would act out and throw a tantrum... She hurt herself throwing one of those tantrums. It required going to the emergency room and getting the injury stitched... Worst night of my life. I cried myself to sleep. I woke up the next morning and there was blood everywhere. Can you imagine my shock? Turns out Eden had ripped the bandage off, as well as the stitches and we had to return to the hospital... Three times! It was an old wound, but my little girl didn't let the darn thing heal. Spent a fortune treating her." She sighed. "But I did learn something; a wound doesn't heal unless you let it. You keep ripping that band aid out, and picking on those stitches and it'll never heal. But you give it time, endure the pain, and endure the process? It does heal, Mike. And all that'll be left would be a scar, a scar that's got a background story. Pretty cool scar if you ask me."

"And Joseph?" Mike breathed, staring at his hands.

"I stopped ripping at the bandaid. When I look at my scar and when I think of Joseph, I think of all the wonderful times we had together. It was short, but those years were the best years of my life, and now I have Eden and I get to have even better years. Life is worth living, and when you've got the right people by your side, it'll be even better."

"What if I already lost the right people? Maddie and Sarah were all I had."

"Maddie?"

"Yeah. Maddie was my little girl."

"Well, that's odd. Eden has a greenhouse with red roses everywhere. She calls them Maddie's roses. "

Mike froze, his heartbeat slowing down.

"They were once in a garden she had created in the back of the house, but as winter approached, she got a plastic greenhouse, put all those roses in flower pots and kept them in the greenhouse. Waste of money, if you ask me."

"Cou-could I please take a look?" Sweat broke out on his skin. She kept the roses?! Of course not, of course she didn't!

Lynette began pushing his chair, his heart racing as she did. They made their way through the kitchen and out the back door. True to her words, there was a greenhouse.

Mike must have stopped breathing when Lynette wheeled him into the greenhouse, his eyes immediately coming to rest of several flower pots filled with roses.

Slowly, he struggled to his feet, ignoring Lynette's protests. She kept the roses... She kept them alive, and groomed them, and multiplied.

Pain fought for his attention, but the red roses kept his attention. His finger grazed one of the petals, images of Maddie immediately taking over his mind.

"Spring." She whispered, visibly tired. Her once bright eyes were now dim. Her head, once covered with glorious, curly black hair, was now completely devoid of hair. She was thin; the cancer had eaten so deep into her body, she was barely recognisable. "My wish for Christmas is spring, Dad. I'd like to see spring one last time. Red roses as well. Colourful butterflies... Our house looks its best in the springtime."

"Mike." Lynette took hold of his hand and gently urged him back to the wheelchair.

He settled on it with a soft sigh, and briefly closed his eyes while he battled his emotions.

"I'll leave you here for a few more minutes if you promise to remain seated?" He nodded, unable to speak. "And Mike, we never run out of the right people, we're just too busy ripping our band aids out, to notice."

When she walked out of the greenhouse, Mike gave in to his grief for the first time since the evening his daughter died.

~*~

"Keep smiling, babe." Philip leaned close and whispered to Eden who was already exhausted from having to smile. She was tired of these events, and she was tired of the media.

"I would like to leave, Phil," she whispered back.

"Not now," he ground out through clenched teeth, a smile on his face. "We still need to do the interview."

"Does it matter that I'm exhausted?"

He turned to her then, a wide grin on his face. Burying his hand in his pocket, he pulled out a black box. "Merry Christmas, honey," he said, all little too loud.

"What?"

"Here," he said. He pulled open the box, and turned slightly —in her opinion, for the cameras to catch a glimpse of the diamond necklace. He pulled out the necklace and walked around her. She felt the cold metal settle on her neck, the camera lights blinding her. Philip's lips settled on her neck, as he whispered into her ears: "At least pretend to be excited."

Eden wanted to yell in that second, to tell him she wasn't excited, she was exhausted! She didn't want to be before a bunch of cameras, she wanted to he home in her bed. But rather than yell, she forced a smile to her lips.

"Thank you, Phil."

Philip made a show of French kissing her before the cameras. He laughed too loud, and talked nonstop. Eden stood by the side and tried to appear happy and supportive. It was after all the only reason she had agreed to come to this fundraiser with him; because she wanted to be the supportive girlfriend... Fiancée.

They didn't settle into the limo until it was midnight, and she didn't get home until an hour later.

"Looks like Grammie is still up." She motioned to the lights within the building.

"Or she forgot the lights on."

She shook her head. "She's up. You should say hello." When he opened his mouth to argue, she shook her head once more. "You could spare my grandmother ten minutes of your precious time, Mr. Kerr. Considering she means the universe to me, you could say hello."

Philip sighed in exhaustion, but she didn't care. She had been putting herself out for him all evening, the least he could do was put himself out.

She unlocked the door and walked in.

"Grammie?"

Cautiously, she made her way to the living room where the lights reflected in the hall.

Stopping dead in her tracks, Eden's lips fell open at the sight before her.

"Mike!" He turned sharply to her, confirming her suspicions; he was truly in her living room! Shocked, she clutched her chest. "Mike, what are you doing here?!" She stared briefly at his wheelchair, before lifting her eyes up to him.

"What the heck's this fellow doing here?!"

Eden jumped at the voice beside her.

"Oh hey Eden, you're home." Her grandmother entered the room from the kitchen with a bottle of wine in her hands.

"Yeah... Um... Mike is?" she asked, confused.

"Waiting for Judie to come get him. I believe she's running late," her grandmother said. "Hey Phil."

"Lynette. I should get going." Eden listened to Philip angrily storm out of the building.

Releasing a sigh in exhaustion, she shook her head and went after him.

"Phil!" she called as he hurried down the front porch.

He paused in his tracks and turned around, anger blazing in his brown eyes. "Are you seeing that loser?" he half barked.

Her jaw dropped. "Mike is not a loser, Phil..."

"So now you're defending him?!" He folded his arms.

"No!" She suddenly felt the need to defend herself and Mike, even if she couldn’t admit that to Philip.

"I already made it very clear, Eden. I do not want you hanging out with him! Now he's visiting?" He gestured to the building.

"Well you're starting to sound really possessive, Phil." She folded her arms, utterly frustrated. "You can't pick and choose who I associate with, I'm a grown woman!"

"Who is getting married to the future mayor of New York! I can pick and choose who you associate with! And a loser with a criminal record is not one of them!” he yelled and she gasped, shocked he knew about Mike’s criminal records. “Yes, I did my research about your stupid janitor and my suspicions were right! I cannot risk him, or you, ruining my chances! You'll just have to choose."

A mirthless laugh drifted from her lips at the ridiculousness of Phil’s demands; who did he think he was to try to control her? "Do not be ridiculous, Phil." She waved him off.

"What? You think that I'm joking?"

"No, Phil!" she erupted, her emotions finding expression through her lips. "No, I don't think you're joking! Neither do I think I have it in me to continue with this... Charade! I'm exhausted! My dress is too tight!” She pinched the fabric and released it, the thing slapping painfully against her thigh. “This stupid diamonds are so heavy that it feels like a chain around my neck!” She yanked at it, unable to get it off her neck. “My jaw hurts from smiling too much and my eyes are starting to see doubly from all the lights!" Breathless, she placed a trembling hand against her forehead. "Maybe it's best we call it quits."

Turning around stiffly, she began making her way to the door. A part of her hoped he would stop her, but there was the part that knew he wouldn't; she was right.

She pushed the door open, her eyes immediately settling on Mike who sat in his wheelchair, staring at her. And for a few seconds, she stood there staring at him as well. She knew she had feelings for him and she hated herself for feeling that way. She hated the guilt she felt for walking away from Philip. She hated the dull pain in her chest. But she especially hated the tears that slipped down her cheeks as she turned from him and made her way up the stairs.