I loved Julian.

How blind could I have been? I refused to see him for what he was, I only saw what I wanted to see, I never accepted him as my husband. Never gave him what I shouldn't have denied, I always saw Paul, I always saw Chris, and I always looked past Julian. Julian who was trying desperately for me to see him, I never saw. How cruel for me to marry him, then refuse to be what he needed me to be, how foolish I was to leave him alone in Spain, he needed me, did I not feel his need because I only wanted to feel Paul's and Christopher's needs? I wasn't sure, but I needed to see Jule, I needed to tell him how sorry I was, that we would make it through this.

That I was pregnant with his child.

I swiftly strode down the long, sickly hallway of the hospital, eyes raw and swollen from the many tears that had spilled past the lids on my way here, Chris was following close behind, his protectiveness nearly radiating from his pores.

I reached Julian's room, Chris had directed me there, now I was sure he'd want to follow me in, but he knew I needed time with Julian. Alone time, and although I knew Chris was extremely wary of Julian, I had to do this. I had to see my husband. "Thank you, Chris." I breath out, catching his cerulean blue eyes that were full of worry and anxiety, I'm sure they mirrored my own. "I'll be down the hall, if you need me." He replies shakily, Madame Marisha had not yet arrived though she had been notified right when Julian was admitted into the hospital. I knew there'd be hell to pay when she got here, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

I slipped into Julian's room, eyes falling on my Julian's limp, hurt body. I choked back the onslaught of tears as the nurse watching over him jumped to her feet, I inhale shakily, delicate hands fluttering to my neck, tearing at invisible cobwebs as I staggered to the side of my husband's bed, the nurse, sensing that I needed time with him, quickly left her post to wait outside.

Tears spilled past my eyes, down my clammy cheeks as I kneel down helplessly next to Julian's bed, a sob ripping its way past my throat as I pressed my forehead to his hand, hoping that i wouldn't be hurting him by this simple gesture. "Oh, Jule, why?" I choke out, locks of lank blond hair hanging limply from my head. "Why? I love you, Julian, I always have, I've been so blind, forgive me for not being the wife I should have been, forgive me, Julian." I could have went on for minutes, hours, I wouldn't be able to tell the difference. All I know is that again and again I pleaded with Julian for him to open his eyes, see that his wife was here, that I had forgiven him for ruining my things and was now begging for his forgiveness.

Finally, he woke.

His dark eyes merely cracked open, rolling around the dim hospital room before falling to a shut, he didn't even take my in, take in my weary, emotional appearance, but at least he was awake. "Julian?" I whisper past dry lips, inhaling shakily, feeling as though I was ready to pass out. Chris had popped in maybe once or twice, I couldn't be bothered to count, I remembered something about him trying to persuade me to eat something, but I refused.

No response from Julian.

"Julian, please, I'm sorry I left, I wouldn't have if you would just let me see Chris graduate...I'm so sorry for leaving you alone, I should have been a better wife, I didn't know.." Didn't know what? That he would do what he had done? I should have known, should have known that he'd do this to himself in order to get me back.

"What are you doing here?" He asked coldly, blank eyes staring at me, I inwardly cringe, but outwardly stay cool. I know how to deal with Julian, how to calm him down, and it was always with soft touches and kisses.

Why wasn't I sure if that would work this time?

"Jule, I'm your wife, I've been your wife, how could you do that to all of our things? How could you destroy all the things we bought with such care? How? All of my clothes, in tatters, all of my jewelry is smashed, how could you?" I choke out, losing some of momma's composure as my hands flutter near my neck, grasping at invisible cobwebs.

"Oh, that wasn't me." A nasty smirk forms on his sensual lips, eyes narrowing hatefully. "That was Yolanda who did that, my sweet, darling wife. Now let me tell you something, I don't want you anymore, you useless trash, you string me along for years like some country bumpkin, you marry me, finally, but you still won't even love me, it obviously isn't me who's wrong, so what's wrong with you, my dove? Why wouldn't you love me? All these years I've been longing for you to tell me "I love you" and mean it, you never do, it's in your voice, your eyes, I only see any love whenever you look at your Doctor, and strike me dead if I don't see you looking at your brother the same way." He snarls, grunting in effort to sit up before hissing in pain, falling back down onto his hospital bed. I stare down at him in awe, I knew that it would take some time to get him to warm up to me again after leaving him alone, but I never anticipated that he would want me to leave, never.

"Julian, you can't mean that, I do love you, it took me so long to realize it but I do.." I whispered, eyes misting over with tears as I try to steady my bucking knees, heart ripping into two. "I'm pregnant, Jule, there'll be a number 14 in the line of male dancers, you're going to be a father, you can't leave." I gasped out, grasping for Julian's hand and holding it tightly, ignoring his efforts to pull it away.

"I don't want the child, kill it, Cathy, 14 is no more of a lucky number than 13." He stated coldly, turning his head away from mine, I opened my mouth to speak, feeling my very world crumbling around me. Finally when I see the light and reach out for Julian, he pulls away. How could this happen? How could I have been so stupid? Now Julian might never dance again, and he didn't know that, he didn't know it yet, how would he react? So many questions drew to an abrupt halt when I heard the hospital door open and turned my head to see the small but feisty Madame Marisha.

I sunk down to my chair.

I could have screamed at the frustration I felt.