Complicated

Chapter Sixty Three: Always

When That Ol' Song Comes On
Together We're Singin'
Forever We're Singin'
That Ol' Country Song

Tim McGraw and Gwyneth Paltrow – Me & Tennessee

Don was sitting on the wooden back porch he'd helped his father construct in his early twenties. They had made a project out of it on the weekends when he was free. The varnished decking gave him a bird's eye view of the plush, green, large garden in which he'd spent his childhood playing in. The swing set was still erected and kept in excellent condition. His mother and father had been awaiting grand kids for a long time and now he was risking the two missing out on it's life. Don knew that Grace would never do that, even if he had no involvement with that child she would make sure it had contact with it's grandparents.

He nursing a can of coke in his large hand as he stared out across his father's back garden. This was a great place for a kid to grow up and run around in. Don pursed his lips together, clenching the empty aluminium can. He longed for a drink, a cold beer to rinse down all the hurt and the fear that ate him up inside but he had sworn himself sober when he'd started taking the medication to help beat the PTSD.

Don flicked his phone open once again, Grace's number was already on his display screen. All it would take is a simple push of the connect button and the two of them could talk again. He could apologise and smooth things over for being so thick headed and spiteful. The truth was he didn't have the guts to reach out to her again, not after what had happened back in the crime lab. He was disappointed in himself for letting his temper get the best of him. He had never meant to hurt Grace or their baby, the words were up and out of his mouth before he'd had the chance to stop himself.

He shouldn't have said such a horrible thing, but there had been an element of truth in his words. He had been cold and withdrawn over the past months but she has been selfish and he understood why. Their baby was her priority, he was supposed to be supporting her but he couldn't right now. Hell, he needed his own support. He was finding it hard to function without her in his corner.

No matter what happened Don missed her. He missed the way she felt curled up in his arms at night when he buried his face in her. He hadn't touched her in an age and he craved it, he needed the comfort her physical being gave him, her reassurances. Above all he needed her belief that he could get over this, that Maplin wasn't going to win.

Don could smell the scent of her floral perfume on the wind and closed his eyes at the fact his imagination was running wild. Grace's hand enclosed on his firm shoulder, her thumb caressed lightly over the knots in his shoulder massaging it tenderly before she came to sit down beside him. Don opened his eyes to find his wife sitting down beside him. Grace still looked the same as she had this morning. Her dark hair was clipped back away from her face with a gold pelican grip. She was wearing an olive green wrap around top with a black waist coat left open over her shirt and black fitted trousers. Her stomach was rounded against the shirt, showing a baby bump.

"I think the two of us should talk." Grace said quietly, rubbing her hands together back and forth.

"I've been thinking about calling you." Don told her, tucking his cellphone into the front pocket of his jeans.

"Don, I know." Grace began tilting her head so she could read the profile of his handsome face. "I know you have PTSD."

Don bowed his head as he exhaled, clasping his fingers together as he shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't grown used to talking about his condition, there was a stigma that came with mental illness. He was frightened it would taint everything it touched, his career, his home life. It was already stealing his soul out from underneath him. He needed Grace to return it to him, to bring him back even from the brink he was standing on.

"You never think it'll happen to you." he said into the open night time air as he stared at the swing set illuminated in the distance. "That bastard really did a number on me."

Grace's arm slipped underneath his, separating his hands so she could entwine her slender fingers with his. Their connection hummed to life at the briefest touch. Don breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar sensation of it filling his frozen insides up with it's heat. For the first time in a long time he thought he was starting to feel again.

"I'm sorry." she said as she squeezed his hand lightly. "I was selfish. You were right. You should have been able to lean on me."

Don shook his head in response to her words. The need to explain was burning brightly within him for the first time. He wanted her to understand why he had left, that it wasn't her fault.

"I was going crazy, being at home with you..." Don trailed off, swallowing hard. "I was becoming more violent outside of the apartment because I was hiding everything, trying to shield you away from it. You didn't need to the pressure and I didn't want you to experience anything like what Hamlin did to you. I feel so bitterly ashamed about hurting you and what I said this morning."

"Your hurting deep inside." Grace recounted. "And I wasn't there, I should have been Don and I'm sorry about that."

"Your here now." Don replied, tilting his head towards her so he could stare into that stunning grey gaze.

"Whenever you need me to be." she whispered, reaching out as their heads bent even closer.

Her fingertips trailed along the line of his finely stubbled jaw. Don closed his eyes as his entire body trembled at her light touch, her thumb smoothed over the shape of his lips with a tenderness he knew that only he was privy to. That touch said everything that they couldn't say with words.

I missed you, I love you. I'm here for you.

The depths of their emotions were played out in every single impulsive movement. Don heard his own intake of breath as Grace's nose traced along the line of his own gently until their lips were only inches apart. She hesitated, giving Don the chance to draw away if this was too much, too overwhelming. Instead he took his chance and kissed her.

Grace had never fallen as hard for someone as she did in that moment. She felt that deep rush of hopeless, desperate love claim her once more drowning out the agony that had been dragging her down over the past few months. His lips were soft as they caressed her own pouring every single emotion he had ever encompassed for her into that kiss. She was everything to him, she was his hope, his lifeline and with her by his side he could beat the PTSD. Grace made him feel stronger, she made it easier to cope, there was a future when she was around him.

"I love you so God damned much." he whispered against her lips.

Grace opened her eyes to find him staring intently into hers. There was a wealth of secrets buried deep within him and once she had known every single one. Now she was learning, rediscovering every inch of his heart, mind and soul all over again. He was hers still and that spoke volumes to her. It meant there was a chance of saving him, a possibility of her yanking him back from the edge of the cliff by his shirt tails.

"I'm here." she told him. "Forever and always."