"You really should answer that." My sister says after my phone has rung for the third time.

"It's not important." I wave her off, continuing to work on my suit's tie.

"I'm sure it is." She insists while I check the suit in the mirror. Sleeves fit better. "Cameron."

Other than being nosey and obsessive, my sister is a brilliant seamstress.

"The suit is much better, thank you."

"Cameron.." My sister quirks a brow. "Answer it."

"It's just Meghan."

My sister eyes be through the mirror. "I know."

Suspicion fills me. "Melanie.."

"You're gonna be mad but.. it's a good idea!" My little sister shouts as I turn to her.

"Melanie, what did you two do?"

"Well, Isaiah said you shouldn't go by yourself tonight."

My hands fist inside my dress pants.

"Damnit." I walk through the sister's boutique to where my suit jacket hangs. "Meghan." I growl though the phone. "What the hell?!"

"I agreed that it was a good idea." A soft voice responds and I sigh, pulling the phone away from my ear to check the caller identity. My Love.

"Do you really want to go?" I ask into the phone while glaring at my sister. "This is a huge benefit, there will be photographers at every turn, everyone coming up to you and asking how you are, we have to seem normal."

"The best way for everything to get back to normal is to pretend it is."

"I'll be there in ten minutes, alright?"

"See you in ten." She responds quietly and the call clicks to an end. Without taking my eyes from my sister, I shove my phone into my pocket.

She breaks-eye contact first and I start toward the door, stopping in front of her.

"When this goes bad, I will blame you."

"Cam," She reaches over and hugs me, causing me to stiffen. "Everything will work out."

"Everyone keeps saying that." I sigh. "And each time I believe it less. The press is gonna all over her." My anger starts to build. "And it's your fault."

Ten minutes later I'm pulling up the driveway when Megan drives past.

Her truck slows, causing me to slow my SUV.

"Why did you think this is a good idea?"

"She asked me." She pushes up her sunglasses so they pull her hair back. "She asked where you were going and wanted me to help her. She's waiting for you." She states before flicking her sunglasses back down and driving away.

'This isn't gonna end well.' Is my thought as I continue to drive up the driveway. But that thought leaves as soon is a see my wife standing standing on our porch.

She looks like she's just stepped out of some modeling magazine.

I have always thought my wife was beautiful, but right now. The black evening gown, the tulle flowing in the breeze along with her hair.

The SUV stops and she takes the few steps down the white wrap around porch. When I get out of the car, she stops.

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you." She whispers, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. I stretch a hand out for her but she doesn't move. "So was there a reason you didn't want me to come tonight?" She asks, taking a step toward me and then gripping my hand.

"Our first time in public since the accident shouldn't be a hospital benefit." I turn her hand, letting my thumb rub against her rings. "Our life is so much different that it has seemed the last three months."

"It want to see." She squeezes my hand. "Tonight, we are, as Meghan says, the amazing power couple that everyone wishes they were."

Unable to withhold my smirk, I bring her hand to my lips. Her positivity has always been contagious.

The flashing on reporters cameras can be seen from a mile away.

"We have to stop for a few pictures and then we'll head in." I explain, stopping the car. "Alright?"

"What is this even for?" She asks, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles in the tulle.

"Meghan didn't tell you?"

"No."

I resist the urge roll my eyes but can't stop my sigh. "We're opening a new pediatric wing on Monday. The staff and heavy benefactors are celebrating."

"And you're a heavy benefactor?" She questions with a slight grin.

"We are." I smile. "This is your idea."

"Mine?" She frowns, turning to me. "I mean, it's a wonderful idea but I made you donate?"

I shake my head in response. "You never make me do anything. You mentioned that, God forbid, our children ever end up needing to be here, it's a bit out of date."

She pauses, considering my words.

"I thought it was an excellent point, as much as I hated to think about it."

"You love them very much." It's a statement, not a question so I don't address it.

"Are you ready?" I ask her, gripping the door handle.

She responds by opening the door to the a SUV and jumping out.

"Mrs. James!" "Mrs. James!"

"Amelia!" I groan, as she's practically assaulted by reporters.

Once I'm out of the car I toss the key to a valet.

"Mr. James." The reporters shift their attention over to me. "Mr. James, what can you tell us about the new pediatric floor?"

"Mr. James, is it true that you now own a controlling percent of the hospital?"

I grab the hand of a frozen Amelia and pull her forward and out of the road.

"I won't be discussing business tonight, thank you though." I respond and the next reporter steps forward.

My arm moves to Amelia's waist and I pull her close to my side.

"Alright?" I ask and she confirms in the same way.

"Mr. and Mrs. James, how has the accident influenced your marriage?"

"We're stronger now." Amelia answers before I get the chance. Kissing my cheek before turning back to the press and smiling. "And that's all that matters."

"Mrs. James, how has the pregnancy been so far?" One asks and another follows up. "Has the accident influenced your pregnancy in any way?"

My hand rests on the small bump that is especially noticeable in the tight evening gown.

"We're looking forward to a healthy baby in six months." I answer, pulling Amelia away. "No more questions, thank you."

Lights continually flash as we walk into hospital.

"Well, I think that want well." She whispers as we enter to reception area.

Security automatically steps to the side. "Enjoy your evening."

"Finally," A familiar voice whispers from behind us. "You guys arrived just in time." Isaiah slaps my back before moving to hug Amelia.

"You look gorgeous."

"Thank you. What are we just in time for?" Amelia asks, tilting her head in curiosity and I send a questioning glance to my best friend.

"Some doctor from L & D was flirting with me," He starts to rub his baby blue suit jacket as if he can get rid of the germs. "And Meghan saw and now she's stalking me, waiting to strike." He starts to look around and I notice Amelia frown.

"Meghan said she couldn't make it."

"She's catering." Isaiah's eyes widen as he glances behind me. "She found me."

"Did he tell you?" The annoying voice of my wife's best friend reaches me ear and my eye twitches. Her starched black suit makes her look even more uptight. I care for Meghan but sometimes she's too much, especially since my Amelia hasn't been around to talk her down a few notches from insanity. "I'm here working my ass off and I see some doctor trying to- what?"

"You done?" Isaiah questions, taking a glass of water from a server as he walks past.

Fire ignites in Meghan's eyes, but she turns from her husband stomping off in her usual fashion.

"Well she certainly hasn't changed over the years." Amelia's mutters, taking a sip from the glass of water I've handed her.

Isaiah starts laughing. "No, no she hasn't."

"Unfortunately."

"Cameron," My wife nudges me. "Since when do you and Meghan not get along?"

"Since she wedged herself into my marriage." I respond instantly catching Isaiah's disapproving glance.

We don't see eye to eye on Meghan's meddling. I think it it's brash and disruptive and he thinks it'll lead to Amelia having a breakthrough.

"Can I speak to you for a minute?" Isaiah asks me, motioning to a quiet area on the set-up ballroom floor.

Amelia reaches forward and squeezes my hand. "I'm going to go find Meghan."

As she pulls away I motion for Isaiah to go and follow him.

I get stopped a few times. Handshakes and congratulations are thrown my way before we're able to make it across the room.

"How are you holding up?"

"Peachy." I respond, nodding at another shareholder.

"Did she over step?" He asks and I shift my gaze to him.

"She always does."

"I know you hate it, but she knows best in this situation. She sees it from the outside, she loves Amelia enough to care more than anyone, but you," He adds quickly. "but she's not blinded by that love."

"And I'm blinded?"

"You always have been." He smiles and I follow his traveling gaze to our wives across the room. "I know you don't see it, but as someone looking from the outside, this has helped your marriage."

"Really?" I scoff. "How so?"

Isaiah sighs, his hands getting tucked into his pants. "The old Amelia loved you too much to tell you when something you did bothered her; this one, and I'm sorry if this sounds harsh, doesn't love you that much."

"I don't understand." If I weren't so confused, I'd be furious with his blatant statement of the facts.

"Remember that time you kept hiring maids and Amelia kept not liking them?"

"Yes?" I question, not really understanding where he's going with this.

"You told me that you would just let her decide on one because she didn't like the ones you were picking."

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask, my eyes searching for my wife. "I was there." There she is, her head thrown back in laughter at whatever Meghan is saying. "Get to your point before I leave."

"Amelia didn't want a maid, you were too eager to spoil her, you didn't ask her how she felt about it." My eyes jerk back to him. "And she loved-" I feel my left eye twitch at the use of a past tense verb. "You too much to tell you she didn't want one."

She would have told me. We're always honest with each other. She would have told me if she didn't want a maid.

"What about the year you bought Amelia flowers every single day and she literally couldn't stand the sight of them anymore."

That one is a bit of a sucker-punch to the gut.

"What do you mean?" I can still see her smiling, when those bouquets were brought in day after day. "She loved it."

"She hated it Cameron, that's why Meghan told you to stop."

I feel my forehead wrinkle as I frown in confusion.

"At first it was nice, sweet as she called it, but then, after a month, it was driving her crazy. She told Meghan that she didn't want to seem unappreciative of your love, so she let it go on for a year."

Again, my eyes search for my wife. "She should have just told me. I would have understood."

"Sure, and Amelia knows that but she just didn't want to seem ungrateful, that's how much she loves you!" Isaiah's voice gradually becomes more insistent. "Your marriage was too perfect. It's okay to fight every now and then."

"I can hardly stand you and Meghan's marriage, and I'm looking at it from the outside."

He has a secret smile on his lips. "You've never experienced make-up sex."

"And you lost me." I muttering, watching as Amelia's new neurologist, William Spencer, taps on my wife's shoulder.

"I'll talk to you later." I wave Isaiah off, walking toward her.

"Cameron." He sighs tapping on my shoulder.

"Isaiah." I growl, turning to to him but seeing a tall blond woman.

Her dark, olive colored eyes look me up and down. "You're Cameron James?" She asks while Isaiah approaches.

"Raelynn," He says, "nice to see you. Cameron was just on his way to talk to your husband."

She chances at me. "Are you the jealous type?" There's a twinkle in her eye as she asks the next question without waiting for me to respond. "My husband is too. That being said, would you like to dance?"

"He'd love to." Isaiah answers for me, stepping back. "I'll talk to you tomorrow brother."

Spencer's wife grabs my hands, placing one on her shoulder and one on her waist.

"You always this quiet?" She questions as we start moving.

"With women I've never met, yes."

She smiles politely and we silently dance through the next slow song.

"Rae." A voice approaches and I glance behind the blond woman to her husband, my wife standing behind him.

"Sweetheart," the doctor says. "I believe Mr. James owes his own wife a dance." He nods to me before turning to my wife. "It's an option if you'd like to look into it."

"Consider?" I ask Amelia, gripping her hand and pulling her closer than she's been in months.

"A brand new type of therapy. The use of incredibly small electrical currents to trigger memory."

She wraps her arms around my neck, allowing us to start swaying. "And he didn't want to mention that last week when we were at his office?" I ask, trying to reign in my temper.

"He said he couldn't remember if it was safe this early in pregnancy and he called a few colleagues to confirm."

"Hm." I hum, trying to keep my opinions to myself.

"I'd like you to tell me what you think about it."

"I don't like it." I sigh, my left hand moving from her hip to her head, pulling it so it rests on my chest. She doesn't resist, her arms moving to comfortably rest between the two of us. "If it's a new therapy they can't be completely sure it's healthy for the baby or that it's not frying your brain."

"I'm glad you agree." She mutters, tilting her chin to look me in the eye. "I didn't like the idea either. Cameron," She mutters, slowing our sway.

"Hm?" My eyes, which earlier had closed, open at her soft tone. Her familiar scent relaxing me better than anything.

"Would you normally kiss me at one of these things?"

Our sway comes to stop. "Amelia," I breathe, unable to stop grip from tightening.

"Kiss me, Cameron," She maintains eye contact. "Kiss your wife." Is all she says before allowing her eyes to flutter closed.

Slowly, my neck bends, and my lips connect with hers. Electric is the only way to describe it. I've missed her taste, the feel of her lips. I've missed her.

In a way it's like the way our first kiss should have been. Slow, hesitant, and soft. After a few seconds I pull away, my neck still bent allowing me to rest my forehead against hers.

"I love you more than you know."

"I know." She whispers back, her breath fanning my lips. "Thank you."

I spend the rest of the night holding her tight as we sway, avoiding reporters and fellow businessmen.

-

The evening ends sooner than I'd like considering I've been able to hold her closely for the past few hours.

"It's almost midnight." Amelia whispers after we've crawled into bed.

"The fairytale is about to end." I mutter, rolling to my side of the bed.

"Fairytale?" She questions, and I feel her turn to me so I roll to face her.

I smile at her sleepy form. "I've held you in my arms all night. I was able to kiss you. And now the night is ending and I have to let you go."

Her face, light by moonlight, looks serious. "Cameron?"

"Hm?" I hum, my hand coming up to rub the frown lines from her forehead.

"Will you hold me tonight?" She requests and my thumb freezes. "I want to know what it feels like."

"Come here." My hand moves from her face to her waist rolling her over she can press her back to my chest.

"Cameron," She questions, slowly.

"Yes?"

"Are you breathing?"

"No."

She giggles and I can't help but laugh too.

"I can feel your heartbeat." She whispers a few minutes later. "It's racing."

"You do that to me."

Suddenly she reaches behind her, finding my hand and bringing it to her stomach.

My fairytale didn't end at midnight, but it certainly did the next morning.

-

A sudden large movement jolts me from my deep sleep, the best sleep I've had in the past three months.

"Amelia?" I question, rapidly blinking, trying to adjust my eyes to the light. Her eyes are wide and her face is more flushed than I've seen in a long time.

Her sudden embarrassment suddenly makes sense as realization dawns on me.

"I-"

"It's not your fault." She mutters quickly. "It uh- It happens. I'm gonna go make breakfast!" She squeaks, jumping out of the bed, and running out of the room.

Fuck. Frustration fills me.

"Cameron!" I hear Amelia call and I sprint, not caring about the awkward situation in my shorts.

The news is on and the reporter's comment makes me freeze. "Is the perfect power couple finally crumbling?" The idiotic brunet with too much makeup, asks the camera. "The evening spent at the benefit for St. John's new pediatric wing shows billionaire construction mogul Cameron James is on the brink of divorce with his wife of eight years."

Images of us dancing then kissing appear on the screen.

"A failing marriage and a baby?"

"Brink of divorce?" Amelia questions, frowning. "We look perfectly normal."

"No, those pictures show the truth." I grab the remote from the coffee table, pausing the screen. "You don't look in love."