My Baby, My Darling.

"Is it...is it yours, Dexter?" My words came out very carefully, barely above a whisper. I spun around slowly to face him, immediately meeting his eyes which I realized were only inches from mine. I had forgotten just how captivating his eyes were.

Dexter pursed his lips slightly, shaking his head. "No. No, it's not mine."

"Are you upset? That the baby isn't...yours?" I furrowed my eyebrows, trying desperately to figure out why his expression held such hollowness, such defeat. I had never seen him in this state.

"That's not why I'm upset." He let out a breath of air, breaking eye contact with me as his eyes dropped to the floor. "Her daughter, Lydia, she's turning three this January. Monica was pregnant on our wedding day." He explained, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes traveled past me. "But I know, I'm certain that the baby isn't mine, it isn't possible."

I nodded, licking over my lips, choosing my words carefully. "Do you know who the father is?"

He sniffed, looking down and breaking eye contact with me. "No. She wouldn't tell me. It must have been someone I knew because she's doing everything to protect him. She won't give me a name."

He laughed lightly, sarcastically as he shook his head. "She cheated on me. She left me at the altar that day because she was pregnant with someone else's baby. It wasn't because she couldn't handle marriage. She couldn't handle the guilt. All this time, I thought..." He trailed his last words, letting out a deep breath and shaking his head.

I didn't know what to say. I knew that I needed to console him in some way. But I didn't know how. I've never been good at consolation, I avoided it at all costs, and even when the situation did come to it, I had no words that would make it right, make everything okay. I wish I knew how to take pain away. So, I said what I thought someone would say in a time like this. I said what I had heard a million people say numerous times before me. I searched the depths of my emotions to rightfully convey the words, try to make them believable. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't," he spoke abruptly, harshly. Now eyes met mine, hypnotizing my own. "I didn't tell you so that you could be sorry for me. I told you so that you would know."

He backed away from me slowly, shaking his head and wetting his lips. "From what I'm assuming, I messed up a shitload of things with you last night. I just, I needed to forget about everything for a few hours and I resorted to the only way I knew how, the same way I forgot about everything when she left. And that's not an excuse, by no means is it an excuse and you know that. That was the old me, the person I'm not proud of and I didn't want you to see that guy again. It won't happen again because I know that next time might be far more worse than last night and you don't deserve that. You shouldn't have to deal with that. I'm sorry."

"I forgive you." I nodded, assuring him as I examined his facial features. His face was serious as his eyes bore into my own, trying to convey his sincerity. His grey orbs intensified. I was worried about him. "None of it is your fault, Dexter. You need to know that. You can't blame yourself."

"That's what she kept trying to tell me." He scoffed, running his hands through his hair as his eyes dropped to the floor, a sarcastic smirk on his face. "But I don't want to talk about it right now. I'm not ready to talk about it."

I bit my lip, nodding slightly. "You don't have to."

---

"Holy shit, she has a daughter?"

"Yup." I nodded, popping the p at the end as I continued shade intently onto my sketch pad. We were currently stationed in the living area of my apartment. Dexter left for his shift at the hospital a few hours ago after we ate breakfast in complete silence, no one wanting to say something wrong. Because frankly, I didn't know what to say. Apparently, neither did he because he never made eye contact with me once except to tell me that he had to go to the hospital and would call me tomorrow. I knew that I needed to keep my distance because he needed to deal with all of this on his own. It wasn't my place to get involved. I wasn't capable of doing anything either way. I had no way of helping him through this.

Nicole wanted to come over and spend some time with me before I started my shift at the Cafe. She said she needed "best friend bonding time."

Nicole's eyes widened as she continued to clip her coupons from the newspaper. "But it's not his?"

"Nope." I shook my head slowly, never looking up from my work.

I heard her let out a puff of air an slam her hands down onto the table. "Homeboy needs a reality show or something. This is some Jerry Springer shit!"

I raised an eyebrow, finally meeting her eyes as I stifled a laugh. "You're going to quote White Chicks right now?"

"Too much?" She smiled lightly, biting her lip.

I laughed lightly, shaking my head. "Three much, honeybooboo."

"I'm just saying." She shook her head slightly, turning her attention back to her coupons. "Dexter has gotten himself into a pretty intricate web. You guys have practically been through the same thing."

"I don't think you can compare my experiences with Dexter's." I shook my head, pushing pieces of hair out of my face. "I know we were both cheated on and betrayed, but I don't think I'd handle it if I were faced with what he's facing. He doesn't deserve all of the crap she's thrown his way. If only I could find out a way to help him out, ease the pain, or anything."

"And to think, he was just supposed to be the rebound guy." She smirked, dramatically cutting through a section of the newspaper. "But you've surely developed some real feelings for this guy, honey. I don't think I've ever seen you so concerned. You've changed."

There it was again. I've changed. Why is it that once one person says it, the whole world is obligated to repeat it? I hadn't changed, I've always been this way. The only difference is that this time, my walls have been broken down. That's how I've been able to let Dexter in. And now, I'm more concerned about him than about myself. I'd rather be with him when I used to love being alone. I didn't depend on him, because I could honestly do without him. But I loved being around him. I loved being around him because I loved the way he knew the answer to almost everything and could explain even the most remote topic in great detail. I loved how he could be in the most focused state but still be able to crack a joke. I loved how he was able to listen to me and not jump to action to figure out a solution to my problem, but assure me that he was there if I needed him and that he supported any decision I made. He made me comfortable, secure, loved. The change that has happened this time is that I love Dexter.

I bit my lip, continuing to sketch. "I guess I have, Nikki."

"What are you sketching anyway?" She raised her eyebrows, leaning across the table. "Is it an exact image of Dexter?"

I scoffed, shaking my head. "More importantly, what are you doing? You've never clipped coupons in your life and all of a sudden you're coupon queen?"

She smiled lightly, shrugging her shoulders as she at back into her chair. "Gabe and I were watching TV the other day and Extreme Couponin came on-"

"Wait." I held up my hands, dropping my sketchpad. "You were spending time with Gabe yesterday, alone?"

She shrugged, like it was the most common thing in life. "Everyone else was busy, and your homegurl was bored."

"What happened to Daryl?" I laughed.

She waved him off at the mention of his name. "That guy was never going to last. He couldn't even sit through horror movies without screaming like a girl."

"So what, you're going to date my cousin now?" I joked, smirking lightly.

"No." She scoffed, shaking her head hesitantly. "Me and Gabe? Heavens no."

I raised my eyebrows, knowing she was going to continue.

"But would that be so bad? I think I've grown a tolerance for him, and he's really not that bad if you're alone with him enough. He can be really sweet and he's such a good kisser-"

"Stop! Ew. Oh my god. Please, stop right there." I gagged, dropping my sketchpad onto my couch and standing up.

"I probably should have left out that last part, huh?"

"You've kissed him?" I scoffed, still gagging. "Why is all of this happening all of a sudden? You can't just date my cousin, Nikki."

"Why not? I've known him for forever and for how long has he been hitting on me?"

"Exactly!" I threw my hands into the air. "He's been pining over you for years. You can't just play him like you do all the others."

"I'm not going to-"

"Promise me." I raised an eyebrow, locking eyes with her, "you won't get involved with him unless you're serious. You won't just jump him and move onto the next."

She threw her hand into the air, "Alright, I promise! Geezz."

I nodded officially, hesitantly making my way back towards the couch and pulling my sketch pad onto my lap and continuing my drawing of the llama in the rainforest.

Suddenly, her voice erupted from beside me. "But he really does know what he's doing-"

"I'm leaving!" I stood up from my couch and made my way out of my apartment, hastily grabbing my apron and cell phone on the way out.

---

Dexter POV

"And the patient is now stable. Vital signs are normal and I have her scheduled with Dr. Morrison tomorrow for a follow-up so that he can give the patient the all clear to send her home."

"It sounds good, McHale. Go ahead and sign off now. You're done for the day." Dr. Arora, a petite Indian woman in her mid-forties, nodded officially as she checked off a few papers in her clipboard before waving me off.

I gave her a professional nod and made my way toward the break room a few doors past the nurses station. I brushed past a few interns discussing something about new bar opening up in the city.

I made my way over to my locker pulled out my sweatshirt, pulling it down over my scrubs and slinging my backpack over my shoulders. As I was exiting the break room, one of the interns called out to me. I think she introduced herself to me last week as Jenna, or maybe it was Jessica.

"Hey, Dexter! A few of us are going to the new bar opening across town. Wanna tag along? You're the only attending that we don't fully...dislike." She smiled lightly, biting her lip.

Her long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, which she stroked fairly often, always trying to smooth out non-existent tangles. She looked to be about 20 but her face was always piled with make-up, trying too hard with her appearance for a work environment. I always questioned why so many girls did that to themselves, fiddling with their natural appearance to appeal to guys. I'm glad Chelsea never did that. She rarely ever wore make-up, and would only wear a small amount if she did choose to. She really didn't need it, she was naturally beautiful.

I shook my head slowly, blinking my tired eyes. "Nah, it's okay. I think I'm just gonna go home. Thanks, though."

I turned around, about to make my way through the door again when she grabbed my arm, not harshly, but enough to make me turn around and raise my eyebrow.

"If you change your mind, we'll be there until pretty late. And you promised to help me brush up on my chart examining skills, remember?" She fluttered her eye-lashes slightly, biting her lip as her grip on my arm tightened slightly before dropping her arm at her side.

I shook my head slowly. I really wasn't in the mood to deal with this, but I tried to maintain a civil tone. "Maybe if my girlfriend's up for it, we'll stop by for a little. But I have some flash cards that might help you brush up on your chart reading skills. But, you know what? Take a shot for my girlfriend and I if we don't make it, yeah?"

Her smile dropped slightly as she tried to maintain her chipper composure. She nodded quickly, "S-sure thing, Dr. McHale."

I nodded and flashed her a forced grin before finally making my way out of the break room.

As I made my way out of the hospital and into my car, I kept thinking of how different the situation would have been five months ago. I was a completely different guy, always so focused on getting girls like her into bed or partying harder than the last time. Everything was different now. And frankly, I wasn't in the mood to deal with the intern right now. Too many things were clouding my mind.

All I wanted to do was forget about all the time I spent pining over Monica, all the time I wasted. I wanted to forget in the only way I knew how. Had I not been with Chelsea, surely I would have taken the intern's offer and even gotten the her into bed, which would have been pretty easy considering the way she was eyeing me. But, I wasn't going to do that. I wouldn't resort to that lifestyle ever again. I knew I didn't need to because I had Chelsea. She was all I needed. Because when I looked at her, my past didn't matter, none of the shit Monica put me through mattered, nothing else in the world mattered.

And that's what was going through my mind as I, without knowing it, drove to her apartment instead of my own that night; why I found myself knocking on her apartment door so vigorously, threatening the importance of what I was about to do.