He was an idiot.

A fool.

A... he couldn't even think of the word.

He was low, lower than low. So low that when he looked up, he could see the scum of the Earth.

He'd cheated on her. He didn't remember much from the night before, such as dancing on a table such as Trace had described, but he did remember that.

Lips that weren't smooth, breath that wasn't warm, wandering hands that didn't make his skin tingle. Now that he thought about it, his skin had more crawled than tingled. His eyes dropped as he thought about it again.

He'd long since forgotten her betrayal. He'd forgotten the morning he woke without her laying beside him. Yes, she had lied to him. She'd done some damage, and it hurt knowing his own wife didn't want to have his child, but atleast she'd been faithful-as far as he knew, she wasn't out fornicating with some strange person at a bar.

If that night had done anything for him, it had only clarified the fact in his mind that he needed her back. He needed her to laugh with him, smile at him, hold him, kiss him. He had to be missing her a great deal if he was seeking out her qualities in other women. That's what he'd been doing and nothing more. He wasn't attracted to the strange girl, he just confused her with someone he held dearly in his heart. Now he needed to know that they were okay and they were stronger than this. He needed to know that when it came down to it at the end of the day he really was her Prince Charming, and she was his Princess.

"What the fuck is wrong with you man?" Trace plopped down next to him.

Justin'd been sitting there for hours, slumped over chewing on the corner of a pillow.

"I have a problem man. I'm in such deep trouble I don't know what to do," Justin sighed.

Trace's eyebrow raised.

"What is it man? What's going on? You can tell me."

Justin glanced at him, slightly hesitant.

"Come on man, how long have we been friends? When have I not had your back?" he put a supportive hand on his shoulder.

Honestly, whether it be drugs, alcohol, debt, whatever, he was there for his friend one- hundred percent.

"I cheat-cheated on McKayla, at that club, with that girl," he said.

Trace snatched his hand back immediately.

"Oh you're in trouble," he said, "You're going to get it. McKayla is going to kick your ass when she finds out about this. Not even kick your ass, she's going to kill you. Not even kill you kind of kill you. More like gut you like a fish and hide your body in the bottom of the Atlantic kind of kill you."

Justin glared at him.

"You think I don't know that?! Fuck Trace, what am I going to do?"

"You're going to keep my name out of it for one thing," he joked, trying to lighten the moment, "I don't need her coming after me, trying to blow my house up in the middle of the night. I didn't do anything wrong."

"This isn't funny man! This is the rest of my life we're talking about. I can't tell her, but if I don't and she finds out, I'm in that much more trouble."

Justin let out a childish whine and slouched down alittle farther.

"Ok ok wait. Maybe you're over reacting, what happened exactly?"

"I kissed her, after you and those two girls left."

"You kissed her? That's all, nothing else?"

"That's all."

"How long was it?"

"Like, point two five second."

"Well it's not so bad. All you have to do is explain to Kayla that you were drunk, didn't know what you were doing, and that it didn't mean anything to you," Trace suggested simply.

"Think she'd buy it?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't mean anything to me huh? Why didn't I think of that?"

It could possibly work. The girl really hadn't meant anything to him at all. McKayla had to realize that he didn't even care enough to listen to her name when she tried to tell him. She'd either look at it like that, or call him a dirty nasty easy male ho who didn't bother with names. His guess was the latter of the two.

"No," Justin shook his head, "She'll be too busy trying to go Lorana Bobbit on my ass to hear that."

"You could not tell her at all. I mean, what you did wasn't really that bad. It's not like you have sex with her or anything else. Right?"

"Right," Justin responded quickly before he pondered the idea.

Not tell her? Not telling her could work. But then, it could very easily backfire and she'd be twice as angry with him. Plus, it just felt so wrong. He'd felt scummy ever since it happened, and he hadn't been able to shower it away. He had a pretty good idea that telling McKayla would get rid of that feeling. Things were best out in the open.

"No, I should tell her. I need to tell her. She has the right to know," he decided.

"So how are you going to do it?"

"The ball," he pinched his lip between his thumb and his pointer finger, "I'm going to find her at the ball and I'm going to apologise and I'm going to tell her everything, and then I'm going to get her back."

"Get her back? Whoa, J, I don't think it's really-."

"I know she'll be pissed to hell at me, but I need her to come home, even if she's not speaking to me. I'm going crazy without her, I want human contact and conversation and frankly I'm sick of seeing your face every day, Trace."

McKayla was numb. Void of emotion and feeling.

She'd known it all along, the idea eating away at the back of her mind. Call it woman's intuition, but she did know it. Still, knowing didn't soften the blow of actually having the proof in her hand.

She looked down at the wand in her hand, the blue line staring back at her.

'If pregnancy is indicated, a blue line will appear,' the box had said.

The line couldn't get much bluer than what it was. A pregnant was definately indicated. And part of her had known all ready. The sickness, the fatigue, the feeling that something was just different. She'd gotten pregnant, whether she wanted to or not. It was here, it was happening.

McKayla ran a hand over her face and climbed up off the floor where she'd been sitting. The bathroom mirror was there, staring back at her, letting her know that she looked like hell. When the line first started to appear she'd slid down the wall and pulled her legs to her body, rolling herself into a ball. The answers had all been so clear before. She knew what she wanted, she knew what to do, now it was all so different. It wasn't easy to say she didn't want kids when it was just a thought, but now that it was a reality, the words where burning her throat as she muttered them.

She was going to be somebody's mother. She couldn't give it up for adoption -she knew that already- and Justin would set the world on fire if she had an abortion, so that narrowed down her options. But she wasn't sure if that was good or bad. She was feeling both forced into a position, but at the same time willingly walking into it. She ran a hand over her tummy and stared at it intently, willing something to happen, something to make it just that much more real incase it wasn't real enough yet.

She'd told Justin before that she wasn't ready for a baby because she needed more. There was something inside of her that needed to be filled before she could settle down and be a family woman. But standing there, knowing that his baby was growing inside of her because of a moment when they wanted to express their love for eachother, she'd never felt more complete. Or more confused. Or more alone. He was supposed to be there, sharing the moment with her, holding her hand, telling her everything would be fine and making plans on what to do one way or another.

Yet, he wasn't, and she felt herself aching to physically call out for him, scream his name. But just because she wanted him didn't mean that they were meant to be together. Plenty of people in Hollywood had 'Baby Mama's' or 'Baby Daddy's'. It in no way meant that she got the fairytale.

"McKayla!" Athena's voice filtered through the door, "Are you alright in there? It's been awhile."

The door swung open and McKayla slowly shuffled out. She held up the wand.

"Do I get to ditch the ball now?" she asked.

Athena slowly sat down on the bed and Shannon put a hand over her heart, not sure whether to be excited or upset.

"Oh. My. God."

"Welcome darling welcome! Welcome to The Ellington Ball."

The Ellington Ball was a big charity event, that McKayla and Justin were in attendance to every year. It was expected, damn near required, for anyone who was anyone. Everyone dressed up in their Sunday best, and spent the night sipping alcohol and dancing in the ball room or sitting in the grass under the stars. McKayla knew her husband was going to be there, and she couldn't let the fact that she missed him and the news she'd just gotten the day before affect her.

She had a job to do and a role to play, and that involved insuring that she and Justin would be happy, even if that meant with different people. She wasn't going to be deteared from that because she was pregnant and missing him and sexually deprived. But how was she going to tell him when it did come to that time? Would he be happy? Confused? It would definately be confusing for him, because it was confusing for her. Her head saying one thing and her body doing another.

But which one was the right one?

As far as Justin was concerned, the right one would be which ever one ended with them home together, travelling together, in love once again. He let out a puff of air and clapped his hands together. She was there somewhere, mingling with the crowd, sipping her champagne in some gorgeous gown. He was going to find her, and he was going to tell her about his infedelately and he was going to get down on his knees and apologise for it and for their arguement and then he was going to beg for her to come home so they could talk about it. Yes sir, that was the plan and nothing was going to stop him.

"Hey, is that her?" Trace motioned across the room.

Justin spun around, careful of the expensive tux he wore and let his eyes dance around the room wildly. There were blonde's, redheads, dark skin, light skin, and olive skin, but no Kay.

"I don't see her."

"Right there, in the black."

Justin looked again, his eyes squinting as he shook his head.

"No, it's not-."

The girl turned, and his eyes fell upon shimmering brown skin.

"Wow."

It was her! She looked different. Her hair was flipped at the bottom, her neck clearly visible. Had her neck always been that sexy? Maybe it was the dress and the way it displayed her new hair color. The strands had fadded into a slightly more reddish color, that really made her kind of glow. Her eyebrows were still black, but different somehow. Thinner maybe. Were her teeth even whiter? She was smiling like there was no tomorrow. What had she been doing without him? She looked good, too good. If he didn't make a move, he was worried someone else would.

Plan A: Beg, was now aborted. Plan B: Seduce Her, was now in motion. There was no mention of anything having to do with an affair involved in Plan B. How could he walk up to her, with her looking the way she did, and tell her he'd been unfaithful? He wouldn't have a chance in hell of getting her back after that. The girl at the bar would have to remain a secret until he was secure in the fact that she wouldn't murder him and walk out again.

McKayla turned, having heard her name somewhere, and searched the room for the source. It was never found, her mission was sidetracked by someone else. His blue eyes met her deep brown ones and for a moment her smile faltered.

There he was, all 6 foot 2 inches of him. She'd known he was going to be there, but this was the first time she'd actually laid eyes on him, and he was staring right back at her. He looked so handsome in his tux done up to his chin, though she could tell he would much rather have been in one of his Harley Davidson teeshirts and a suit jacket. That's just the type of man he was.

"Kay?" Athena tapped her arm and her attention was withdrawn.

She turned her back to him.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

"No, no, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You've mingled with everyone here, you don't have to stay."

"Really, I'm fine. I'll have to be in the same room with him eventually ya know. Perhaps I'll even talk to him."

Athena's eyes moved past her and widened slightly.

"McKayla?" she didn't have to look to know who it was.

Good God, she hadn't meant now. She'd meant the future, she'd talk to him sometime in the future. She turned and gave him a tight smile.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi."

He nodded politely to Athena and Shannon before settling his gaze on her again.

"You look really nice."

"So do you," she replied. He really did.

There was silence for a moment and the tension grew. He had to get her away from the two other women that accompanied her. He had to get her in some position where no one was listening, but she couldn't yell at him, and couldn't walk away from him.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked.

"Uh... no thanks. We were just about to leave and-."

"Oh come on. It's one dance, for the road? Please?"

One smile and she crumbled.

"Well, one, I guess," she turned to look at Shannon, but both she and Athena had strangly disappeared.

Justin took her hand and pulled her out to the middle of the floor, where they would be hidden from prying eyes like Trace's or Shannon's. They assumed the standard dance position, one of his hands on her hip, one of her hands on his shoulder, their bodies 5 inches apart.

"You really do look great," he said.

A slight blush crept over her cheeks as she muttered a thanks.

"When did you get this new look?"

"A few days ago," she shrugged, "I needed a change."

"It's definately a change. But I like it, it's sexy."

McKayla wasn't sure how comfortable she was with the conversation. Yes he was her husband and he'd commented on her sex appeal before, but they were quote unquote seperated, so should he be commenting on her sex appeal right now?

"Well," she gave him another tight smile and looked away.

Her eyes danced around the room, looking anywhere but at the blue orbs staring back at her. What was she supposed to say, 'Yeah, thanks, you're sexy too?'

A frown formed on Justin's face as he watched her. She was so stiff, so rigid, so... nervous. Nervous to be around him, to touch him. He didn't like it, not at all. Slowly, he took both her hands and placed them around his neck, before sliding his arms around her and pulling her closer, itching to dance with her properly. Her eyes widened and she glanced at his face with shock before moving down to look at his collar.

"McKayla," his smooth voice flowed into her mind, "Kay, look at me."

McKayla glanced at him quickly.

"Kayla please."

She shook her head in the negative.

"Why?"

"I can't."

His hand moved to cup her cheek and she allowed herself to lean into his palm just a little. This moment could work in the positive for him a little more, if he could conjure up some happy, fond memories of them.

"Do you remember when you came home from Miami? That night?"

She didn't answer, but he knew she did.

"I remember. I remember that we talked, and we laughed, and we danced," her mind unwillingly thought back, "I remember that you loved when we danced together. What did you like so much about the way we danced McKayla?"

She sighed, but still didn't look at him.

"I liked that we were together. I liked that for a moment, we were wrapped up in eachother, in front of everyone. That they could see what we had. That no matter where we were, it was always just you and me, even in the middle of five-thousand people."

His thumb rubbed her cheek as he looked over her face. Same long lashes, same light freckles.

"Are you coming home?"

"And where would home be exactly?" she countered his question with a question of her own a little to quickly for his taste.

"What do you mean where... home is with me, in our house, in LA."

"I wasn't aware that I was wanted there."

"Ofcourse you are. I love you. It's not the same without you there ya know."

McKayla was fighting not to let herself be so easily moved by a smile and a few nice words. She took a deep breath and kept a stiff upper lip.

"Well I'll come home when I know that I'm safe, and that I'll be happy."

"Ofcourse you're safe-."

"Am I? You scared me Justin."

"I know."

"You were throwing glasses-."

"I know," his forehead touched hers and she closed her eyes.

It was the eyes, that was his way back into her. She couldn't look at him, atleast not until she had convinced herself that she was stronger than this.

"I know that that hurt you, and that it scared you, and baby I am so sorry. I was just so mad at the situation and I was pissed off and I know that doesn't excuse it but, I am so sorry. And it'll never happen again. I know you're thinking that it's clique and they say it in the movies all the time and stuff but I'm for real. That'll never happen again. You know I would never try to hurt you."

McKayla moved her head back alittle, to give them space and squeezed her eyes shut. He was saying everything she'd wanted him to say, but she couldn't. She just couldn't. Their relationship was all wrong, screwed up from the beginning. They needed to make this seperation work.

"Please come home with me."

"If you want me home so bad how come you're just now saying something? It's been 3 weeks since I left. You don't call, you don't write."

Little did she know.

Before he could answer she stopped dancing and dropped her arms, expecting him to let her go.

"This isn't the place to have this conversation anyway."

"Will you go somewhere with me where we can talk?"

"No," she gave him a look.

"Then this is the perfect place to have this conversation," his hold tightened and he motioned for her to continue dancing. McKayla rolled her eyes and put her arms back around his neck. Didn't he realize they were around Hollywood royalty here?

"So you never answered my question. Why didn't you call?"

If she was going to be stuck with him, she might as well get some information out of him.

"I didn't know what to say or where to begin. There's so many things I want to say to you."

"Yeah, me too," she admitted softly.

Like, I'm sorry.

I love you.

I miss you.

I'm pregnant.

"Kay," he leaned down, his mouth next to her ear, "If you can't come home with me tonight, atleast tell me you'll be coming home soon. That you'll think about it."

McKayla's eyes closed once again as his lips brushed the tender spot near her ear and her nose inhaled the masculine scent that adorned his skin.

"Please Kay," her arms tightened with a sigh as she felt his tongue flick across her skin, "Please."

"God Randall don't do this to me," she pleaded, though she made no attempts to stop him. Justin smiled to himself, she'd said the nickname he'd been so despirate to hear. Atleast some part of her still wanted him.

His pleading mixed with the affection he was showing her was a dangerous mix, one that she as meerly the woman in love with him could not ignore. He looked good, he sounded good, he smelt good, and he felt so so good.

He leaned his forehead against hers again, his lips a breath away from her own.

"Why aren't you mad at me?" she whispered.

That's what she couldn't get over. Why wasn't he upset with her anymore?

"I'd rather deal with it, let it go, and have a chance at being with you, then hold onto it and let you walk away from me again."

Damn him. Damn him and the words he knew would eat away at her small pathetic excuse for a shell. Her hands slid past his shoulders to his biceps where she squeezed with frustration.

Lord, if she couldn't walk away from this man, she was no where near as strong as she thought she was.